The City of Taxon

"Goddamn son of a bitch!"

This is probably not the best introduction to a strange new world that one should have. Mabel, however, is too busy getting up from the floor that wasn't there a second ago and rubbing the arm she had landed on. It takes her a few moments to adjust to her new surroundings (which is of course accompanied by more swearing), making a few important observations while doing so.

The first is, obviously, that this is some strange metallic chamber and not the old rotting house she had been running for her life in. It was somewhat fortunate, for moments before she had tripped on a rotting board and was in the process of falling down the stairs, but still aggravating nonetheless. The second, and thoroughly alarming one, was that there was some strange sort of band on her wrist that she can't get off and trying just leaves scratches on her skin. This just Should Not Be and she makes a note to thoroughly panic about it when she has the time. The third observation is about some unflattering comparisons to the room she's in and the lame sci-fi movie she had watched a few days ago in which the space-like set designs were obviously fake.

This? Not so fake, or so it seems. She picks up her baseball bat from the floor once she notices it; it's made of metal, dinged in several places, and is covered in something black and dripping (it's best if why is not given much thought). The tablet gets examined, but she isn't picking it up until she knows what the goddamn hell it is for.

"All right," she says, holding the bat as if she's ready to swing it at something if need be. "What the goddamn hell is going on here?"