Imogen heard nothing, being that she was immersed in water, but what opened her eyes was the movement of her hair. Six muscle bound clowns, three on each long side, were hobbling her see through cage deeper into the Tent of Sorrow. Her knife was still in her hand, yet she couldnâ€™t bring herself to harm the clowns. The clowns didnâ€™t do anything personal to her, only to the others. No, she was saving her strength for the throats inside the tent- the surgeons. Taking up a bothersome strand of pearls, she wound it through her mass tresses of hair so that it wouldnâ€™t block her vision. Clearing her mind from thoughts of fear and terror, Imogen angled the knife to her chest and waited for what lied beyond the tent flap.<br/><br/>One thing she didnâ€™t expect was seeing only one surgeon in street clothes and the covered tank in a trailer.