Her footsteps echoed through the asylum's underground corridors. The attending constable looking to the cold stone walls, trying to avoid eye contact, or dwell on her disfigurements.

A soft smirk crossed her lips, "Just stare at my chest, it helps distract people."

The gentleman gulped, choking a bit on his words, "We're... we're there miss." Opening the door to the cell. "Will you be needing me to go inside?"

"Thank you, but no." she said as she entered the small room.

"God be praised." he whispered at that relief.

Watched, he noticed her pale yellow eye seeming to glow faintly as she looked around the room. With a sniff she could detect the faint odor of brimstone, "So... they tell me he somehow set himself on fire, despite having nothing to do it with?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Curiouser and curiouser." she muttered as she pulled off her glove and ran her living hand across the walls, tracing the bloodied writings. "His own I am to assume?"

"Yes ma'am. He started them ever since he arrived, and continued till his death last night... do... do you know what they mean?"

Looking over the intricate scribbles or runes and icons Miss Wintersong nodded, "IYes, it means war... It looks as if Cuthulu is coming, but Mephisto is claiming this city as his own. Won't this be interesting."