For the first time in her long memory, Syri was running. She was running, and running fast.
The thrill of it would've been enough reason for her to keep going, the wonderful feeling of the wind against her face and the sensation of her lungs and legs pumping and propelling her forward through the darkness of her world. Even the terror of her situation wasn't enough to fully dim the euphoria she felt. But it was enough to ground her thoughts, keeping her focused on the present and the fact that she was being chased and it wasn't Kaze trying to catch up with her.
Listening to the sounds of her footsteps, she quickly considered her options. She could hear her footsteps sounding against something in front of her, but open space to her left and right. Decision made, she veered sharply to the right. Praying that she wasn't going to hit any walls, she kept going.
Just as unfamiliar pain was starting to settle into her muscles she heard the sound of her pursuer's footsteps coming closer. Weariness forgotten, she poured every ounce of her strength into her legs. Going faster than she ever had before, she didn't realize that she was actually headed towards her house and the safety it offered.
Adrenaline could only keep her moving for so long however, and luck never lasted. Before she could do more than give a cry of surprise she felt herself being tackled around the middle. Her attacker's weight bore her to the ground and Syri yelped as she slammed onto the cracked concrete, clothes and flesh ripping on contact.
Feeling blood dripping down her cheek and the fire of several other scrapes, the blind woman lashed out with her way-cane, terror guiding her. The sound of the makeshift weapon impacting flesh only fueled her fury and fear, and she struck blow after blow, sending her attacker reeling. Scrambling to her feet and grasping her impromptu club in both hands she lashed out, trusting the sounds of pain her assailant made to guide her to her target.
It wasn't until the person yelled for her to stop that she realized who it was. Dropping her way-cane with a clatter she breathed, "Carlos...?" Relief flooded her system and Syri cried, "Oh, Carlos, it's you! I'm so sorry! I thought you were a mugger or something!" She laughed, a delighted smile stretching across her battered face. "Goodness, I was so scared!"
For the second time in one day Syri found herself yelping as she was violently forced to the ground, this time by Carlos kicking her in the stomach. Curling into a ball, she gasped in muted agony, pain lancing through her body. The first blow was followed by more, and she was soon swimming in a sea of blind anguish. Syri covered her head with her hands, sobbing as she tried to curl into the smallest target possible.
"This is for being yourself, Lady Dark." Carlos muttered, leaning over her abused body while he casually kicked her. "It's your fault that I'm having to resort to this. All you had to do was sleep with me, y'know. Then none of this would've had to happen."
He knelt down, fisting his hands in the collar of her shirt and lifting her to her feet. She swayed drunkenly, her hands clenched against her lips as she fought to breathe. Syri couldn't see the malicious smile that flashed across Carlos' face before his fist connected with her cheek, sending her to the ground again.
Her head cracked against the concrete, sending stars of pain rocketing through her skull. She barely noticed when her attacker straddled her hips, so distracted was she by the fiery agony that licked at her mind and body. It was only when he leaned down and whispered, "Now you're mine, Syri," that she realized what was about to happen.
She screamed.