Her head hits the wall with a dull thunk, and for a moment, pain washes over her - a numb, dull pain that tinges everything in red. She thinks, for a second or perhaps an age, that he's hit her harder than he meant to; that perhaps he's cracked her skull, perhaps this dizzying wave of crimson is what comes before oblivion. Perhaps this is how she dies. The thought is almost peaceful. It would not be so bad, to die.
Of course, she is not so lucky. Unconsciousness hovers in front of her, but just out of reach; her eyes roll up into her head for a moment, and she goes limp again, this time not from choice, but she's still all too aware - aware of his hot hand against her head, his bruising grip on her, aware of the echoes of the door that's slammed on even the little freedom of the city. Her stomach twists, and she gags weakly, not hard enough to bring anything up. There is fresh blood matting on one side of her scalp now, dark against her golden hair.
Reeling and semi-conscious as she is, AM will doubtless have no trouble in getting her into the chair. He's got a minute or two, at least, before she can regain her composure enough to fight back.
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sforzinda
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Date: 2019-10-06 10:43 pm (UTC)Of course, she is not so lucky. Unconsciousness hovers in front of her, but just out of reach; her eyes roll up into her head for a moment, and she goes limp again, this time not from choice, but she's still all too aware - aware of his hot hand against her head, his bruising grip on her, aware of the echoes of the door that's slammed on even the little freedom of the city. Her stomach twists, and she gags weakly, not hard enough to bring anything up. There is fresh blood matting on one side of her scalp now, dark against her golden hair.
Reeling and semi-conscious as she is, AM will doubtless have no trouble in getting her into the chair. He's got a minute or two, at least, before she can regain her composure enough to fight back.