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It started as a training exercise - or some poor attempt at an excuse for beating her up some more. Roderick fitted her with a blindfold and noise cancelling headphones, and Kamaria was supposed to use air movement and the vibration of the floor to sense when he was coming at her. To begin with it wasn’t that bad. She didn’t exactly manage to make a successful block every time, but she did at least turn in the correct direction and make some kind of contact with him before he could fully hit her.
He was taking it easy on her those first few times, though. After that, he started moving more carefully, making himself almost impossible to detect. She couldn’t tell where he was until the last second. By then, it was too late to keep from getting punched or backhanded or kicked. The longer it went on, the more tense she became, anxiety at not knowing where the pain was coming from growing and only making the task more difficult.
Clearly he wasn’t thrilled with her performance. The attacks seemed like they’d never end, until suddenly - without warning or explanation - her hands were being cuffed behind her back. She was shoved to her knees, ankles also shackled together and the two restraints attached so she couldn’t get up.
Now she’s alone in the darkness and silence. It’s impossible to fully relax when she doesn’t know where Roderick might be, if he’s even in the room anymore or if he’s going to show up and hit her again at any second. He has a few times already. Right as the endless nothing feels like it will consume her mind, a boot will slam into her spine, or a fist into her cheek.
She can’t even trust her mind anymore. It’s started to play tricks on her. Kneeling there, tense and everything throbbing with pain, she’s convinced she feels the air move next to her face, or the floor vibrate a little, and she jumps, expecting to be struck. Those are the times that nothing happens, though.
The longer the time stretches on, the easier it is to get lost. The darkness is never ending. The sound of her own blood roaring in her ears is maddening. She can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours, but her legs have long gone numb and her mind is following them.
Surely he’ll come back soon and actually release her. It’s been a long time since he last hit her, too, hasn’t it? Time doesn’t make any sense anymore.
She tries to focus on something beyond the darkness and silence, to learn something from this ridiculous training, so that maybe, maybe she’ll be allowed to move on.
But there’s nothing there. And the nothing just goes on and on and on.