'I am being strangled.'
Saint found herself strangely calm despite the fact that someone had wrapped a garrotte around her neck, as if situations like this were nothing new to her — familiar and trifling, rather.
She noted the strangeness of her reaction and filed it away to be analyzed later, reasonably assessing that now was not the time for self-reflection.
Her instincts kicked in, proving that countless hours of training had not been in vain. Before Saint could even register what was happening, her body moved on its own, and she just barely managed to insert her hand between the cold garrote and her neck before the sharp string drew taut.
The rain obscured everything around, its rustle drowning all the sounds. Light was pouring out of the hospital's windows no more than a hundred meters away, but even if Saint screamed, no one would hear her — not that she could scream with all the pressure being put on her throat.
'Ah…'
