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Hugh sat in his private suite with Trinity, Jackson, Tim, Dr. Kalper and Townsend. He was exhausted—physically and mentally. They’d been at the Warehouse District well into the night, investigating and then arranging for the transportation of all the Servants to a vacant shelter until they could examine the bodies.
He struggled with the fact that someone could do something like that. He couldn’t even imagine the pain the Servants had endured. They’d been butchered without any form of anesthesia or pain killers. They’d been tied or held down and cut open while alive and cognizant. Only the blood loss or the removal of a necessary organ had alleviated their suffering.
“This can’t keep happening,” said Kalper.
“Keep happening? It’s happened before?” He’d never heard about anyt
