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Something was definitely wrong. Sawyer surveyed the interior of the casino, taking in everything as her eyes flickered rapidly back and forth. The place was packed. She saw an elderly woman playing pachinko, a familiar punk-looking kid on the slots, and a host of men around a roulette, a pair of dames invested in a game of cards... Everywhere she looked, people were preoccupied with the casino's games. Some stood gathered off to the side chatting laughing. Sawyer was not easily rattled, but even she felt her hair stand on end. Grin spreading across her face, she strolled across the lobby and entered the fray, accepting the chips that were handed to her but declining the drink. The whole thing stank, and she planned to get to the bottom of it.

After prowling around the various games, Sawyer settled at a poker table. Arms folded, she beamed at the dealer, an impassive-faced man with slicked back hair. “Busy night, eh?” she asked. She withdrew a couple chips that she had received at the entrance from her pocket. “Why don't you deal 'em, cowboy?”

As the man shuffled the cards, Sawyer watched him carefully for any suspicious movements. No one got away with cheating while Sawyer was involved; not unless she permitted it anyway. No stranger to cheating herself (it was second nature to her), she had an eye for spotting various table tricks. In this case though, her dealer seemed a straight arrow. It was almost disappointing. A little unhappily she conceded to play a straight game. She was here for information, not cash, and getting thrown out before she could learn anything would make investigating a pain in the neck.

A moment later, her cards were laid out in front of her. She offered the dealer a lazy smile. “You might have to remind me of the rules.”

Consciousness returned in fleeting glimpses, like memories from dreams projected in a void. Everything was black and silent. Then shadows appeared. Then the sound of voices. Nothing was clear. It was hard to tell if she was truly awake or still sleeping.

Suddenly with a buzz the lights snapped on. Sawyer became self-aware in that instant. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she waded through her thoughts. A flood of memories came rushing back to her: who she was, where she had been, and the choices she had made that had led her to her current circumstances. Right. Her current circumstances.

For the first time since waking, Sawyer felt the bonds that held her. She was seated in a chair, strapped tightly to the back with rope; tightly enough to cut off her circulation. No wonder she had not noticed before. The whole situation was somewhat nostalgic. She found herself wishing that she could say it was a new experience, but... A rough street life made this kind of thing unavoidable. Even the classroom setting looked familiar.

As a voice blared out from the speakers sitting on the desk, Sawyer forced herself to focus. Maybe it was just paranoia kicking in, but her present dilemma gave her the sense that the stakes were higher than previous engagements. When voice went on though, she was less convinced it was paranoia. Considering she was tied up and being instructed that this was all part of a game, she was clearly dealing with some kind of psycho. Maybe a cult. Sawyer allowed her face to settle into a lazy smile. She could match psychotic.

“Can we volunteer for the breakfast fundraiser instead? I like to think of myself as more of an eggs and toast kind of person,” Sawyer asked. No sooner had the words left her mouth than the voice interjected, claiming players had to pay for their information. Fine then. She had expected as much. Her captors decision to drug her had only foreshadowed the nature of the game. There would be no fair play.

She heard the sound of a door opening, and caught a glimpse of colour out of the corner of her eye. A moment later, her chair tilted and she found herself being dragged out of the room, across the hall, and into a much smaller room. An attendant crossed her field of vision and shut the door with a click. She then walked around behind Sawyer. The chair tilted once more, and Sawyer was spun to face the back side of the room. A young woman and a boy sat across from her, bound and gagged. She remained impassive.

“Now,” the voice continued through the speakers overhead. “These are the losing players from the last game. A bunch of sore losers if you ask me.” Blah, blah, blah. And on and on he went. This guy sure loved the sound of his own voice. Sawyer could not wait to kick his teeth out. After she strapped him to the wheel of fortune and used him to practise her dart throwing technique.

“I have to choose one?” she whined. The remark earned her a look of incredulity and panic from her fellow captives. “Can't you just give me store credit? Or how about the attendant? Can I choose her?” Silence followed. Sawyer felt the beginnings of irritation. Acting cute would get her nowhere it looked like. She was obliged to play by their rules... for now.

Huffing a sigh, Sawyer nodded to the woman strapped to the chair. She reminded her of Renita. Kind of. Sort of. It was a vague, half-convicing resemblance. If Sawyer tilted her head just right, looked at her sideways, and thought about it really hard she could imagine her sister. "How about her then?"

That seemed to be the signal for the next step. Another attendant appeared, and cut away the boy's bonds. The boy leapt to his feet, shoving the worker away, but the first attendant stepped in. In absolute silence, the two woman overpowered him and began to drag him away. All the while he thrashed and screamed, his cries ringing in Sawyer's ears. She was impassive. She had no pity for strangers. Hell, she didn't even have pity for the people she knew. As he disappeared behind a heavy metal door, Sawyer caught a glimpse of the room beyond. Metal counter-tops. Conveyor belts.

“Where are they taking him? Not the fun factory, I'm guessing,” Sawyer asked.

“Are you sure you want to know?” The response did not come from where she expected. A third attendant stepped around from behind her chair. A chill passed down Sawyer's spine. How long had he been there? And without her even noticing...! The woman, still bound and gagged across from her was wildly shaking her head. She made muffled noises of agitation.

“I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know,” Sawyer replied, tone sharp.

“Then we will tell you. At a price.”

Sawyer only had a moment to wonder to wonder what the fee would be. Before, the announcer had told her that she had nothing to offer in exchange for information; information was after all a commodity. But sometime between then and now, she had acquired a bartering chip. Her gazed settled on the woman. Suddenly she understood.

A fountain of blood spurted from the woman's chest, accompanied by a loud buzzing and an animal wail. Sawyer was spattered. She flinched back, as flecks of blood flew into her eyes. The buzzing continued. So did the screaming. Squinting, Sawyer forced herself to watch the scene. The attendant, meat saw in hand, precisely carved the woman up, removing her flesh in measured chunks. Hands, arms, legs, torso, neck... by the time he was finished the only thing recognisable was her head.

Sawyer was too stunned to respond as the scene was hosed down and the parts neatly packaged. Even the head was wrapped up in a paper sack and tied off with a bow. What remained of the woman's clothing had been cleared away and disposed of in a chute in the corner. She heard a woosh come from below and then all was silent again. Just the crinkling of butcher's paper, as the packages were carted away. It was only as the last of the blood disappeared down a drain in the floor that Sawyer regained her senses.

She wanted to vomit. The scene was too surreal for her mind to compute. Instead she felt a removed sense of abject horror. Suddenly she became aware of the blood staining her face. Not just her face: her clothes too. Her stomach churned. She turned to look up at the final attendant, who was still as clean as you please and without shame.

Spitting some of the blood from her mouth, Sawyer spoke. “You guys are pretty twisted, huh?” she asked. “Chopping people up, and auctioning them off like cattle?” She studied the attendant. He appeared impassive. She on the other hand was furious. Her outrage far outweighed her terror or disgust. A wide, fearsome grin pulled across her face. “Well, get this. I understand that you're new here, but this is my city and I don't appreciate people like you thinking you can do whatever you want with my property. So enjoy it while it lasts, because before I burn this place to the ground I'm going to put that meat grinder of yours to good use.”

For a moment, Sawyer thought she saw a flicker of emotion. Was that fear? Or something else? Pity maybe. Not that it mattered. The attendant had seized the back of her chair again and dragged her into a dark hall. A faint outline of light appeared at the other end. Before they reached it though, they stopped. Anticipation mounting, Sawyer counted her heartbeats as a minute passed. She flexed her fingers. The ropes around her wrist fell away.

Startled, Sawyer experimented with moving her arms. Neither was tied down. Her bonds had been cut. She was free. Free of the chair at least anyway. Unsteadily she got to her feet. Her legs wobbled from such a long period of disuse. A tingling shot up and down her calves. Ignoring it, Sawyer glanced behind her. There was no sign of the attendant and behind her corridor stretched into blackness. No point in going back that way.

As Sawyer turned back toward the outline of light, she felt her stomach clench. Abruptly, her knees buckled and she hit the floor. Her mouth opened. Back arching, she vomited. Chunks of her lunch appeared over the floor. Streaks of bile clung to her chin. She vomited again. For a while Sawyer knelt there for a while, fighting her body's distress as she swallowed back any further impulses. At last her stomach settled. Sitting up, she wiped her face. Then she stood and faced the outline. Her eyes had since adjusted and she could recognise it for what it was: a door.

“Let's see what's next,” she muttered. She gripped the handle, pushed, and her world unfolded in harsh light.