Concrete brick walls, a mirrored window, a table with three chairs and one lonely lightulb lighting the room just enough to not trip; but who cares. A Detective sat across the suspect jotting down some notes. Looking up they set the pen down and started speaking in a stern voice. "Who else was involved in this work?" The suspect refused to answer and looked grimmacingly at the detective. Bursting into laughter the suspect replied but not to the question, "You would look lovely as a chandelier in my foyer." The Detective never had a case this extreme and tried to hide the tears of fear but the suspect noticed and fed off of this. "Tell me Miss, what was it again? Miss Faerie was it?" Miss Fae wrote something down and stood up. "I never bargain with the Devil but you are inferior to the Devil himself." She walked out of the room, door clicking shut and he smiled a grimm smile as he cocked his head to the left and looked at the mirrored window. 

     A couple hours went by with only two out of four questions answered. His name and his occupation were known. Guards posted all over the area he was in but at this point he wasn't planning an escape attempt but more or less enjoyed this form of torture. Detective Fae sat in the side room watching Maven only to find that he does nothing but sit there and not act out or speak. Morgan walks into the side room. "You caught Maven? Did he surrender or was he forced?" Fae breathes a sigh of relief, "Little bugger went into the hospital seeking help for a wound and they notified us and now here we are." Maven had fallen asleep. Morgan picked up the paper and walked into the room. "Maven Worren. The infamous 'Bear of Nortlem' landing here in Morrison Graveton. Tell me was this a coincedence or are you here on a business trip?" Maven woke up, noticing who it was he started trembling in fear. "Morgan Starsilver!? If I would have known you were here I would have never come here." Morgan stared at Maven coldly, "Just answer the question." Maven replied quicker than a snail falling to the ground. "Business trip." Morgan wrote down on the paper and asked the next question. "What is the business?" "Shipping Dragon bone and Harpies' Blood." He looked up confused, "Harpies' Blood?" "Yes." Morgan looked back at the paper and continued. "Who else is a part of this?" "That is classified. Even myself don't know. I just do it for the immunity." "Elaborate on Immunity." "That's the name of the business. Look I'll give you the name of the Head huncho but thats all I know." "Spill the name." "Henry C. Tracker." Morgan finished writing, "I have one last question." Maven scratched the back of his neck, "What's that?" "Where does he reside?" Maven looked more terrified and spoke quietly, "He hears everything." Morgan got up and left the room, door shut. Fae was on the phone as he entered, "Yes I'll tell him." She hung up and turned to Morgan, "Maven is a descendent of Henry C. Tracker." "That's not what you wanted to tell me." "Correct. Maven is his partner. He purposefully came in to kill you and stop the Organization from ruining their work. Call a Code Sev-" Glass shattered, Fae hit the floor. Red lights turned on but it was too late. Fire engulfed the room including Fae. Morgan escaped but glanced back to look for Maven. Maven had vanished.