The void was timeless.
It was a heavy, suffocating ocean of black mink fur, silence, and the phantom, throbbing aches of Yanna's ruined body. She didn't know if she had been suspended in the steel cage for ten hours or three days.
Then, the acoustic foam was ripped from her ears.
Sound crashed into her skull—the deafening, rushing roar of the vault's air conditioning and the heavy, metallic screech of the cage door opening.
"Remove the blindfold."
Camille's voice was a physical strike.
Silas's gloved hands pulled the thick leather strap from Yanna's eyes.
The industrial LED banks of Vault B-4 stabbed her retinas. Yanna convulsed, a muffled, frantic squeal tearing into the heavy steel bit gag locked between her teeth. She squeezed her eyes shut, her hands—still raw and bleeding from the zip ties—flying up to shield her face.
"Did I authorize you to cover your eyes?" Camille asked.
"Mmmph!"
"Drop your hands, Dog. Look at your Owner."
