"My guess," Methos continued as he further examined the incisions on the girl's body, "Either whoever did it wasn't seriously intending to cut her open, or, they had no idea what they were doing…note, none of the cuts are deep enough that she'd have to be stitched back together."

"Doesn't matter," Caspian replied, "An infection this big could spread and turn into gangrene, so the effect will be about the same, either way she's bound to die from it."

"Now I know she's insane," Kronos told them, "Nobody," with the exception of them of course, but he didn't feel a need to add that, "Could walk around for days half cut open without making a solitary noise about it."

"Well, Doc," Caspian smugly remarked, "Got anything for this one?"

"I might," Methos replied, "Go look in the bathroom, we'll see if we can't get the infection out." Once Caspian was gone from the room, Methos told Kronos, "If she lives, this is going to be one hell of a scar job."

"Tell me about it," Kronos said.

"You know, Kronos, I've been thinking," Methos told him.

"Oooooooohhh," Kronos sarcastically responded, "What a shock."

"I was looking at the clothes she wore…none of them fit her and they're all about ready for the rag pile, and she wasn't wearing any underwear."

"Nice," Kronos cynically remarked.

"Not exactly too common a choice these days I don't think," Methos told him, "Not as much as it used to be anyway…I'm figuring she grabbed those clothes from someplace just so she'd be able to get away without drawing much suspicion to herself."

"You think she was locked up somewhere?" Kronos asked.

"She'd have to have been for this to happen," Methos gestured at the cut-up job on her chest, "But where?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Kronos answered, "I thought practices of this sort went out in the first half of the 20th Century."

"Maybe there's somebody else out there who loves the old ways best," Methos thought.

It was a couple of hours before Methos came downstairs again, and when he did, Kronos noted that he looked about ready to drop dead from exhaustion.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well," Methos replied, "First we tried drawing the infection out with heat…that took about an hour."

"I could've guessed," Kronos said, "And now?"

"After that we tried drawing the rest of it out with alcohol," Methos answered.

"Any luck with that?" Kronos asked.

"That 50 percent crap from the store? No, we decided to use our own stuff to try and sterilize it…200 proof vodka, we used it under the kill or cure theory…if it doesn't kill her it has to cure the infection," Methos explained, "The infection's about out but it's going to be hell when it starts to scar up."

"I can imagine," Kronos responded.

"Yeah, well can you imagine who would do something like that?" Methos asked.

"Sure, in the old lunatic asylums," Kronos answered, and grumbled as he remembered those days, "Electroshock therapy, strait-jackets, chained to the wall, taken out in the snow and drenched in ice water…"

"Iron crowns," Methos added.

"Oh yes, who could forget those things?" Kronos said with a chuckle, "Caspian must've had one hell of a time trying to eat with that thing on."

"Who wouldn't with a large birdcage rammed on their head?" Methos replied, "But I don't recall any of them doing a butcher job like that…"

"No," Kronos agreed, "Not too many of them…now the Nazis…" he glanced over at Methos to see if the 5000 year old volcano was about to erupt, he seemed dormant at the moment, "Their doctors, that's what it looks like to me."

Methos said nothing and only nodded his head. Kronos could just tell what name was resting on Methos' tongue but he wouldn't bring that word to see the light of day.

"Has she woken up yet?" Kronos asked.

"A couple of times," Methos answered, "Silas is up there with her now, trying to get her to eat…" he looked over at Kronos and said, "So far that plan hasn't worked."

"Just as well," Kronos remarked, "She'll probably throw it all up anyway. And just where are we going to put her tonight?"

Methos could tell that Kronos was just waiting for him to make some comment of her staying with him for the night, but he wasn't going to give Kronos and his gutter mind the satisfaction, "We can put her down here on the couch, I think it's a safe bet that she won't try anything."

Kronos wasn't sure about that, but he figured it was worth a try…he certainly doubted now that their visitor could ever hope to get far from the house if she did attempt to escape.

They heard Silas coming down the stairs and when he came into the living room, they inquired if he'd had any luck feeding the prisoner.

"Not much," he answered, "She didn't want to eat the food but she had no trouble biting me three times," and he rolled up his sleeve to show where the teeth marks hadn't disappeared yet.

"Of course," Methos confided in Kronos, "We could put her with Caspian for the night."

"Now that would be good," Kronos said, "Maybe we'd get lucky and they'd eat each other."

"I already told you before," Caspian said to Kronos later that night, "I've been working as a cop off and on for 20 years now, I've never seen anything like that thing upstairs."

"Are you sure?" Kronos asked.

"I've been called out to check on a few hacked up bodies, sometimes the nut with the knife got creative in his work but never to that extent. It's nothing we've had to work with before."

Kronos scratched the back of his neck and asked Caspian, "Do you remember if they've got any asylums around here?"

"What kind?"

"For the criminally insane," Kronos answered.

"You think she is?"

"Well she had to come from somewhere and I doubt somebody did that hack job in the privacy of their own home," he said.

They heard two people coming down the stairs and killed off their conversation. They looked up towards the stairs as they heard a familiar, but somewhat quieter stomping noise with every other step taken up there. Appearing at the end of the stairs were Methos and the girl, dressed in one of his nightshirts that came down so low on her it looked like a full fledged nightgown.

"What the hell was that noise?" Kronos asked.

"This thing," Methos said as he shoved the girl over towards them, "I don't know what it is, I just know it's her."

"Come over here," Kronos told the girl.

But she would not. She stayed where she was and looked at the other two men with a blank look on her face, like she didn't understand them.

"Maybe she is deaf," Caspian remarked.

"Well I know one way to find out," Kronos turned to Caspian and told him, "Go open the window."

Kronos went over to a nightstand and took out a gun. He aimed it at the window and pulled the trigger. The echoing noise had both Methos and Caspian groaning and grabbing at their ears, but the girl stayed where she was, not a single muscle out of place in her whole body.

"Well she's not deaf, just stubborn," Kronos said as he put away the gun.

"How the hell can you tell?" Methos asked.

"Because even a deaf person knows to be afraid when they see a gun being pulled on them," Kronos told him, "She's not deaf, just been trained very well not to respond to noise."

"Hmmm," Methos remarked, "She must've had one hell of a teacher."

Methos crept downstairs early the next morning to make sure nothing had happened during the night. The girl was still asleep on the couch, completely oblivious to everything. He wasn't sure whether to take that as a good sign or not; all the same he left her alone and headed into the kitchen. It quickly became apparent to him that she had gotten up in the night to eat; there were several empty cans and jars spread all over the counter.

At this rate, he thought to himself as he dumped everything in the trash, he'd be having to go into town again to stock up on groceries. Another thought came to him and he decided he'd really have to see about pairing her up with Caspian the next night.

He heard somebody coming down the backstairs and looked up and saw Kronos, who said only, "Well?"

"See for yourself," Methos told him and gestured towards the door, "She's still asleep."

Kronos saw the mess Methos was cleaning up and inquired, "And what's all this?"

"Either our guest has a tapeworm," Methos said, "Or the ants are on steroids."

"Again?" Kronos asked sarcastically.

"Exactly what are we going to do with her?" Methos asked.

"Well I can think of a few things," Kronos said.

"I'll bet you can, but that's beside the point," Methos told him.

"Well what would you suggest, doctor?" Kronos asked.

"I still want to find out where the hell she came from," Methos said.

"Why? And bring home a few more of them?"

"Don't you want to find out how the hell that happened?" Methos asked.

"Not particularly," Kronos responded.

"Liar," Methos returned, "You're just as curious as I am to find out what the hell's going on around here. If for no other reason, then to find out how the hell that kid even got into this house."

Kronos didn't answer him but Methos knew he was right; little things like that always seemed to bother Kronos.

"Think about it, Kronos, do you think it's just a coincidence that whoever did this, did it to her?" Methos asked, "You think whoever did it doesn't know what she is and what she'll be?"

"It's possible whoever's responsible doesn't know," Kronos replied.

Methos could sense the doubt in the way his brother said that, "But?"

"But…I'm with you, I don't know of too many mortals who would do something like that, now Immortals I can think of a few people who'd like to try it just for the hell of it and see what happens."

"That's what I'm thinking too," Methos said.

"What about…" Kronos tried to think, "What about those friends of yours, the Watchers?"

"I can check the files and see if they have anybody on their list with a medically induced sadistic streak but you know how long that'll take," Methos told him, "Those specifics alone could warrant a long list."

Kronos said nothing and only nodded his head in agreement.

"I forgot to tell you something I found out the other day," Methos added as he shoved the empty cans into the garbage, "When I was examining her, I found that she's had a few teeth removed, and from the looks of the scar job I'd say it was by nobody with a dental diploma in this century."

"Recently?" Kronos asked.

"Looks like it was about a week ago," he answered, "It's a safe bet whoever did it, didn't supply her with any Novocain or nitrous oxide to dull the senses…so I hate to think of that additional pain she has to have been in."

"So why the hell doesn't she say anything?" Kronos asked, "That's what I want to know. What're they doing, improving on an anti-bark collar for humans?"

"Maybe," Methos thought, "Certainly just about anything is possible and this isn't even some of the weirder stuff we could think up."

"Unfortunately," Kronos responded.

"Okay, so we can't identify her by what she looks like, maybe we'll get lucky and she's been arrested before," Methos told his brothers later that morning, "All we have to do is get her fingerprints and we could run them down to the police and see what they find."

"Assuming she even still leaves fingerprints," Caspian remarked.

"Shut up Caspian," the others told him.

"To make it easier, is there anything lying around here we know she's touched?"

"That knife she had but let's face it, you take it down and people are going to start asking questions," Silas told him, "It'd be easier just to get her prints on something now."

"Where is she now?" Kronos asked.

"Upstairs in my room," Methos said, "I'll see what I can do."

"I'll go with you," Caspian added as he got up, "I have an idea with this woman, you're going to need all the help you can get."

The two brothers headed out to the hall and climbed the long staircase up to the second floor; as they approached Methos' room, they felt the girl's quickening but noticed how quiet everything seemed. Methos turned the knob and they headed in and though no lights were on, they could see the girl, still dressed in Methos' night shirt, in one hand she clutched a book from his shelf. Despite not having the benefit of light to see, Methos was able to make out the title and the author, The Nanny, by Evelyn Piper, and he saw a perfect opportunity.

"Give me that," he said as he swiped the book away from her, "Last thing we need is you getting new ideas on how to kill us."

The girl looked at them with a perfect look of indifference on her face. She looked slightly confused but as though it had absolutely nothing to do with what had just happened.

"Okay," Methos told Caspian as they left his room, "You're the flatfoot," he held out the book, "You take this to the precinct and see if your boys can find anything on it."

"You got it," Caspian tucked the novel under his arm and headed down the stairs and for the door.

Kronos waited until Caspian was gone before he said to Methos, "You really think they'll find anything?"

"Well if she was institutionalized, then it would have to mean she was found criminally insane, meaning she would've been arrested for something and found not guilty due to mental defect…all of which goes back to meaning somebody would have her prints on file. But if they don't, and I don't know what the odds of that are, then I'm out of ideas."

"You, Methos? Out of ideas?" Kronos shook his head, "Unthinkable."

Methos made a face and replied dryly, "Your confidence in my is overwhelming…well, while Caspian's gone, I'll see if I can find out who among us has a sick need to hack open people halfway, but like I said, knowing our kind, that's going to be a lot of potentials to sift through."

"Unfortunately those people you work with who make all the records," Kronos told him, "Can't determine if any of the victims would be pre-Immortals, so that puts us at a great disadvantage."

"The real disadvantage we have is that that girl will not talk," Methos reminded him, "She has to be capable of speaking, but for some absurd reason she chooses not to."

"Unfortunately there's not much we can do for that," Kronos said, "She's already been cut open and taken halfway apart and she says nothing, I doubt much we could do would have any different effect on her…where is she now?"

"Still in my room, why?" Methos asked.

A mischievous smirk appeared on Kronos' face, a very telltale sign for Methos, who had known him for 4000 years and knew what the look meant.

"I'd like a chance to examine her myself," he responded.

"I'll just bet you would," Methos said.

"They say never look a gift horse in the mouth, well this is no horse," Kronos said as he gripped the girl's jaw and looked in her mouth, "This is a…"

"Watch it, Kronos," Methos warned him.

"In any case, she only has 24 teeth," Kronos told him as he let go.

"I know…meaning those weren't wisdom teeth that she had ripped out," Methos said, "Because her mouth isn't big enough to hold them and all her regular teeth…which is just as well I suppose, if there'd been enough room, when those were taken out she would've needed stitches, and without them, I hate to think what shape she'd be in now that could be worse than she already is."

The girl seemed to pay no attention to what the two men had to say about her; in fact she seemed about unconscious again. She paid no attention to Kronos pulling the bedcovers down to get a better look at her.

"You said 140 pounds?" he asked.

"That was my guess," Methos said.

Kronos slipped one hand under the girl's back and the other under one thigh and lifted her up. She barely moved, as though she were already dead.

"You're crazy, she's 165 pounds if she's an ounce," Kronos replied as he laid her back out on the bed. As he did that, another thought came to his mind and he started to push up the nightshirt she wore.

"Now what're you doing?" Methos inquired.

"Take another look at her, Brother, a closer look," Kronos told him.

Methos looked and tried to see what it was that Kronos was seeing. He didn't think he was, that much was obvious to Kronos.

"You spent so many years as a doctor, focusing on the death and the decay and disease, you don't even know what to look for in a live one anymore," Kronos told him. He grabbed Methos' hand and placed it on the girl's leg, "Give it a squeeze and see what you find."

Methos was tempted to remark that his brother was just being an old pervert, but he did and what he found surprised him. "All muscle…right up to the thighs."

"Not a very common trait anymore in women this age," Kronos said.

"Especially this young, unless they're in training for something," Methos thought.

"No," Kronos replied, "If she were, somebody would notice she was missing."

"You've got another idea?" Methos asked.

"Hard labor would be my guess," Kronos said, "Turn her over."

Methos still didn't get where Kronos was going with this, but he did, and rolled the girl over onto her stomach, and Kronos pulled the shirt clear up to her shoulders.

"Hell of a view," Methos commented in his usual cynic matter. But he could tell what Kronos was coming to, he reached out and placed his hand on the girl's back and felt up and down it…all muscles bulging out from it, very little fat anywhere in it. Then he thought of something else and reached over and grabbed the girl's hand and felt it, the skin was callused right under the fingers.

"Well, it's a safe bet she's no heiress," he said as he pulled his hand away and rolled the shirt back down to preserve some dignity for the poor girl, "But it still doesn't say much."

"I think it says damn plenty," Kronos argued, "If you're going to snatch up somebody for your own sick uses, the person most likely for you to target is somebody weak and quiet, won't give you any trouble…and that sure as hell isn't this kid."

"So…what're we thinking?" Methos asked, "Whoever did it, might have known her?"

"It's a good guess that what happened to her was personal," Kronos said, "As we said before…something of this sort being done in a random nature…that hasn't happened since…"

"Since the Holocaust, I remember," Methos said, "Or maybe it's not that…maybe it's another Jack the Ripper in the making."

"Jack the Ripper cut his victims into pieces left and right," Kronos reminded him, "Kidneys here, the heart over there, a head only still intact by a thread of skin."

"So maybe this guy's still an amateur," Methos thought.

"To pull something like this off, they can't be an amateur anything," Kronos insisted.