Blade

He sighed as the steel was removed from his throat. The man brandishing it put the knife back on a holster that he noticed was very intricate, patterns built around the leather - was it? - holster. Beautiful, intricate, gleaming. Telling a story. The steady drip of water continued, the place was dim, lit only by the glow of lights that hung somewhere up high, but he could not see where. He was in a large cavern, and he suspected that if he screamed, his voice would carry very far.

There was a huge monitor screen blinking, no, a set of monitor screens, each showing different images. Two from the middle were black. One had a giant crack running through it.

The Detective rubbed his throat. He could still feel the ghost of the blade on it. His head was swirling with questions. He did not know if he could ask them. He had somehow ended up here from the place in the woods. He did not reme- 

Oh wait, it was starting to come back to him. First the feel of the woods, then the feeling of wetness on his head, then he looked up, and saw something heavy and thick in the hand of the man who had been standing there with him. The forest fell down, the sky came into his vision, then darkness.

He woke up and did not know or understand where he was. His head felt like lead. It was dim, but it was not natural light. He could not see the light above, the sky of his world here was made of stone. He tried to use his hands to get up, but they would not move. Only his fingers twitched. Panic had begun to spread through his immobile body until he took deep frenzied breaths that became calmer and calmer, alongside him. Slowly feeling came back into his limbs and he got up, a little rusty, the joints in his arms making a cracking sound, his legs creaking as if a great weight was being placed on them. His head felt numb, a little caved in, he rubbed his hand through his scalp, there was a huge bump.

Slowly the shape of a cavern began to take place in his head, and as soon as his vision had finally become used to the darkness, his head was banged against a wall, and a knife was placed on his throat.

The man began to ask him questions that he did not understand.

Which of the three sent you?

Why are you on Hūr’s trail?

What is your mission?

He was bewildered. This man must be crazy. Or had him confused with someone else. The situation was so ludicrous, he almost laughed. As it was, a single tear, unsure why it was leaving his eye, left it.

As he did not answer - he did not know how to, the man mumbled to himself. 

Stone… dancer… Kohath…. idiot…. 

The blade was removed by itself, and the man turned on his heel and walked away. Pacing, it seemed.