Incident [TEXT]

Your tongue.

True... but with the reputation these guys have, you're not sure whether to count yourself as lucky or not. On the one hand, you're still intact. On the other, it rather implies that they have some interest in what you have to say. The kind of interest that makes a mess of their nice clean knives and shiny thumbscrews.

You're guessing that's why you still have fingers.

You try not to think about it and open your eyes instead. Blinking, you twist your head away from the lamp aimed directly at your face. Nice. Very friendly.

A handgun. No bullets, obviously.

A machete that is so dull that it is better off to be a bludgeon.

Shifting around in your chair, (as much as the rope binding you to it will allow) you squint at the items just out of range of your feet: a machete, clearly completely useless even from this distance, and your handgun. It was loaded when you got into this mess. You doubt that's still true even in the most freakish of parallel universes. All you can think of is that your captors are trying to be funny, and putting almost useful items just out of reach is their idea of hilarity. But maybe if you run out of things to do you can try and claim the useless weapons.

Aside from that, all you have is the clothes on your back.

a toy gyroscope

...And the gyroscope, in one of your pockets. How did you forget about that? They probably didn't take it because they didn't understand its importance. Truth be told, you don't either, but if somebody uses their dying moments to point something out you're sure as hell going to keep hold of it.

Yes, the victim, the gyroscope. That's how it all started.

But you're not in the mood to dwell on that goddamn toy again. Better to focus on more pressing issues. For instance: where are you? And who is responsible for putting you here?