I staggered back in shock. My hand went to my throat, which was pretty stupid, because it's not like I could hold my gaping wound together and keep myself from dying in the next few seconds. Unnervingly warm blood was running down my hand and onto my chest. My vision was going kind of blurry, or maybe it was just the effect of whirling around in panicky death throes.
Niven was remaining motionless, staring at me with this really creepy disaffected gaze.
The pit guards were staring in horror. A few of them dropped their weapons and backed away. One of them whispered something in awe but I didn't catch it.
General Gavsot began barking orders to them, shouting at them to pick up their weapons and restrain the captive. They seemed hesitant to comply, which made Gavsot shout even louder.
Torvin suddenly returned with a big wooden box which must have contained the interrogation weapons I'd requested. As I lay on the floor in a pool of my own blood, I watched him enter, gasp, drop the box on his toes, and scream like a child.
I was this close to literally dying of laughter.