The Invisible String: Matt Murdock/ Daredevil

2.

Slowly, she retracted her arms and gazed upward. A young boy about her age had caught the snuffer in his hand and gently placed it back where it was. He had medium-length brown hair, brown eyes, and seemed uncomfortable in his environment. Uncertain of what to say, she stayed where she was, waiting for something.

"I'm Annalise. Thank you. Um, where am I?"

Mathew tilted his head slightly, unsure of what he was looking at. She remained still.

"Um, Clinton Church. I'll go get Sister Margaret."

He seemed on edge, though she couldn't say much for her current state, still perched on top of the stool in fear of touching the ground. As the boy left, so did the dimness, and the horrid sensation of movement returned, gravitating throughout her body once more. Did it ever stop?

She could sense Sister Margaret's footsteps approaching from somewhere across the church, Mathew following closely behind. Outside, vehicles stopped and slowed around her. The electricity in the air intensified near the power point across the room. She could almost trace the wires behind the walls with her finger. The water pipes echoed in her head as if she were inside them, feeling every drop rushing through the building.

Her head snapped from the wall to the door when those same warm waves scorched through her again.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware you had woken yet. Mathew came and told me."

Annalise nodded slowly, her head flicking in different directions as new sensations surfaced. Sister Margaret eyed her cautiously.

"How are you feeling?"

Annalise turned toward the kind-hearted woman at the doorframe. Sister Margaret moved to the edge of the bed across from her and sat down.

"I can feel everything. Everything is moving so much it hurts."

Her voice cracked at the end. Her head twitched toward the hallway where she sensed footsteps in a nearby room. Paper brushing against paper. Hands moving over the surface.

"Cars, water, breathing, heartbeat, footsteps, paper"

She muttered it all mindlessly. The heartbeat intensified. It wasn't something she heard—it was something she felt. Warmth in waves, speeding up.

"Stopped."

She whispered again as whoever was handling the paper came to a sharp halt.

Sister Margaret shuffled down the hallway and paused outside the room. Mathew sat at his desk with braille sheets in front of him. His hands hovered above them as if frozen mid-motion. They exchanged a confused look.

He whispered something as soon as Sister Margaret left. Annalise sensed the vibration of his voice but couldn't translate the words.

She lowered her head into her hands, trying to adapt to the shaking and energy that overwhelmed her. Sister Margaret and Mathew returned soon after, but the added sensations of people in the room put her on edge. Her hands trembled uncontrollably.

Mathew observed the girl still crouched on the stool. A large bruise had formed beneath her left eye, her heart rate pounding at a near-inhuman speed. He could hear how violently she was shaking.

"Who is supposed to be looking after you, child?"

The question came with such kindness it startled her. No one had ever spoken to her that way. She immediately assumed it was a trap.

"Please, please don't tell her. Please."

She whimpered and lowered her head again. She felt Sister Margaret silently nod.