Page 50 of Dark Night of the Soul

I didn’t wait long.

The guard who smashed my face earlier entered the room. Closed the door. Stood there looking at me like I was something to be inspected.

I pushed myself to my feet.

My fingers twitched as I waited. My breath even. My heart controlled. I noted all of it. None of it felt urgent.

There was no panic. There was no fear. There was nothing but calm.

And then he moved.

Not fast. Testing. Trained.

He took one step toward me. Then another. He was close enough I smelled him. Sweat and something sour underneath.

I responded before my thoughts did. My weight shifted. Options surfaced. Immediate. Clean. Efficient.

I didn’t choose one. I tried to stop—tried to find the pause—but my body moved without asking permission. His hand came up into a fist. I locked my hand around his wrist, bent his arm back into an awkward angle. A move that should have taken training I didn’t have.

His eyes widened in surprise.

I shoved him backward to the wall. His back smacked it with a dull thud. My forearm landed across his throat.

Not strength. Accuracy.

Something inside me notated the action was complete.

The room was silent except for his breathing which was fast and uneven. My pulse remained steady. My gaze locked on his. And his—wide, unsure, unbelieving.

“Good.” Sebastian’s voice crackled from the speaker by the two-way mirror.

The world clicked back into place. I stepped back at once. My hands at my side. No shaking. No ragged breathing. No elevated pulse.

I sat back on the metal bench, my hands in my lap. They were steady.

And that’s when the fear punched through me.

Chapter 19 | Anna

They took me from the observation room and put me back into the wheelchair. But instead of returning me to the room I was in before, this one was different. This room was as sterile as the others. White walls. Bed. Chair. Small bathroom. No windows.

Like time and space moved differently here. Like they didn’t want me to know if it was day or night. Sunny or cloudy. Spring or summer. Contained. Isolated. Sensory deprivation at its finest.

No clothes. They were keeping me in his godforsaken hospital gown. Stripped of my dignity.

I expected restraints. There were none.

The guards didn’t touch me. They kept their distance.

And for a moment, I thought I heard the whispers.

She’s dangerous now.

They weren’t afraid of me before. They were afraid of me now.

They locked me in the room alone. And I realized that I was in a holding pattern. Waiting for the next test.

I sat on the edge of the bed like I did the bench. Legs crossed in front of me. Hands on knees. I tuned into myself. Listening. My breath was steady. My pulse was even. My heartbeat calm. There was some pain, yes, but I compartmentalized that. Pushed it aside. It didn’t matter.