Chris Smith slowly awoke. His senses were dull, as if he had just come out of a deep slumber. He had no idea where he was, what day it was; let alone year, and even who he was. As his eyes came back into focus, he noticed he was in a small room, covered in white tile. He had never seen this place before and he was confused as could be.

As an instinct, he got up and realized that his legs could not support him. He immediately crashed to the floor. He once again attempted but like the last time, failed. When he attempted to get up, he felt his ankles give up. He came to the conclusion that his ankles were broken, how this happened, he did not know.

He started to feel his foot, trying to locate the center of weakness, and when he came up to the ankle, he felt only skin, no bone.

No ankle.

He did the same to his right foot to find the same thing. His ankle was gone.

Smith started to scream, but no words came out. You could only see the terror that was clearly shown on his face. As he realized that no voice was coming out of his mouth, only short desperate grunts, he started to panic.

At first, he desperately started to feel his throat and made his way up to his jaw. Quickly and panicky he patted his mouth and felt the same sensation as always. Lips. Nothing different.

Still confused and scared he opened his mouth and started to tug at his teeth, which were still present in the right places and felt just as normal. His fingertips made way to his tongue.

Or at least where his tongue should've been.

Chris Smith was stripped of his tongue.