The Chapters

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Straps. Wide, loose restraints I can feel as I move my wrists and legs. I can't see them, and in fact I can't see anything. Wherever I am, I'm not quite locked down onto a chair and blind as hell.

Mica? Glittering words appear like magic in the pitch dark, illuminated but somehow not giving off any light. Are you okay?

Mica? Is there someone named Mica here? Did they get into an accident or something?

Oh shit. You can see the words, right?

Am I the one being asked by the magic words? I try to open my mouth, but my lips won't move. They're sealed together by something, keeping me from speaking.

It's okay, you can just think your responses. Can you see me?

I shake my head. I can see the words, but not their source.

I meant the words. So that's still working. There's a pause before more words appear. Are you hurt anywhere?

I'm not hurt as far as I can tell. My shoulder hurts and my knees are sore. My right for arm feels a little weird, too, but that's about it.

Good. Exactly how much can you move?

I test my range of motion by twisting my neck around first. There are smooth braces a few inches to either side, keeping me from turning my head completely. The restraints around my wrists and ankles allow a centimetre or so of movement each, and a tight one around my waist keeps me from standing up at all. I can bend over freely, but the strap cuts into my stomach if I do.

Okay, that's not too bad. You're not acting very concerned.

Should I be? Being silenced and restrained in a pitch black room isn't normal, but I think I'm in one piece. I don't feel any real urgency right now.

I'd expect you to be freaking out.

Do you know me?

The same words hang in the blackness. A while passes before a word appears again, one slow letter after another. Yes.

Oh.

Do you know yourself?

Not at all.

Fuck. The words come much faster now. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hello?

Yes, what is it?

I shift against the restraints again. Do you have any idea where I am?

The start of a new sentence begins to show at the same time that I hear a creaking noise and  a stream of light blinds me. I have to blink quickly to adjust between nearly-complete darkness and the new brightness. When I'm able to stop squinting, my eyes can pick up a whole new world of information.

A doorway in front of me, where the light is streaming through. A light tilted floor underfoot. Small tables with wheels on the bottom and all sorts of strange items on them. A huge tube and canister on my right.

Two things command my attention the most. One is the man who had walked right through the doorway. The other is the huge black spear protruding through the ceiling.

To my eye-bulging surprise, the silvery words, which are no longer silvery, come as the spear dips down and moves around. That 'spear' is my pencil, ignore it.

Ignore it?

Focus on that man, please.

I keep on staring at the pencil and words. What the hell is going on?