Ymiden 43rd, arc 719
Sybil's room was pitch black. Absolutely no light could be seen from any nook or cranny. The slave, Zemos was given specific instructions on how to keep the room. The floors were to be scrubbed to an absolute clean. Every sharp object was to be removed from the room itself. Sybil's wrists were to be tied behind, at the small of the back, and attached to the body itself. The legs were to be restrained against the bed. The windows had to be covered with canvas bags, and draped with blankets. The door had to be covered in linen cloth, layered and layered upon itself. The room in which served as Sybil's tomb, was none other than the room in which the student slept. And Zemos, the ever faithful slave, was to be moved to the room in which he claimed as his own bedroom, and not to leave unless the agreed upon words were spoken. Precautions upon precautions were put into place beforehand, dulling each sense of the mind.
There was no light from the lanterns outside. This was done at night, so not even sunlight could intervene. The sounds were dulled from outside, most students long since attending classes, or have gone to sleep. Movement was restricted by the fabric which kept the weak student in place. Even if Sybil wanted to move, wanted to see, wanted to experience the sensation of sunlight, it would be impossible. Even if the temptation would be something that asserted it to the forefront of Sybil's mind, there would simply be no way to make good on it. Complete, and total sensory deprivation. At least, as close to such a feat that was needed for the student's purposes. It would be impossible to reach the necessary equipment on this sort of budget without any sort of disposable income. So the student lingers in this restrained darkness, mind slowly filtering through thoughts. Searching for something in specific; moreso, someone.
Slowly, Sybil began to sift through thoughts. Slow, careful breaths are taken, svelte body straining against the leather binds that ensured immobility. The Mistress was being channeled. A powerful empty that seemed to scrape against her prison with each and every waking moment of the day. The very creature that had altered Sybil's physicality in her likeness, but unable to take control. Sybil remains the consistent, and dominant, controller of this body. Rightfully so.
Thoughts began to slow, as mere trills passed. Time was no longer a factor that could be visibly be perceived. While the dead silence was enough to make Sybil's heart race, it served a greater purpose. The student could see the bluish violet stars that came with the darkness that the eyelids brought with it. The lucid imagery was something that Sybil couldn't even manage. The flesh, and the maddening torture... It was some sort of defense mechanism, rather than something available at a whim.
The silence continues. Sybil's ears felt like they were opening against the strange sensation. What was once just the absence of sound, occupied by thoughts, seemed to be rapidly replaced by something high pitched. Some sort of crystalline ringing that almost deafened the ears. Sybil's brows furrowed, as at first, the only thing that was coming from this whole experience, was understanding that silence indeed had a sound. But even that, was something that would soon prove to be quite transient.
