It was too loud in Diana's silent car. She'd muted the radio, turned off her phone's blaring notifications and killed the idling engine on a secluded road.

And still, everything that surrounded her was a million times louder. As if with every sound it reverberated in his ears and bones over and over again. Shaking her from the inside out like an earthquake was shattering and wreaking havoc on her body. Each turn of the car's rusty rims and worn-out tires or with each time she shifted in her seat, the sound of the cotton seat fabric ripped her eardrums open with a jagged knife. 

Spilling herself from the confines of the car, Diana took gulping breaths. Her palm pressed aggressively into her chest as though the pressure might stop the battering ram of a heart which was fracturing open her ribs. Her knees pressed into the rocks and gravel spilled along the dilapidated sidewalk. 

"Hey! Lady! Give me your money." The man held out a gun, a semi-automatic pistol. The barrel staring own at her as she took in the scene. 

Anyone could tell they were hired, either too kill her or to intimidate her.  Beside him, two other men shifted side to side. Their eyes watching for movement in her shoulders and chest.

"Are you deaf? Give me your fucking money!" The man pushed forwards, his shrill voice like a screeching animal. He was being so damn loud. Everything was so loud. Too loud.

Blinking once, twice, three times, Diana surmised that most likely they were marines based off of the shitty haircuts and wide set shoulders.

Rising like a shot out of the dark, she barked and ordered, "Shut up!" There was a waver in his stance and she threw the first punch, decking him right in the chin.

Her hand throbbed and cracked after but the man in black shoes fell to the ground.

She stomped and stomped until he stopped speaking.

The second man, wearing a blue watch cracked out a small knife. The sight pulled up a flurry of feelings in her chest. With a forgotten speed, Diana clamped onto his wrist  and wielded his arm aggressively until the knife dove into his neck.

Blood seeped from the wound and down his dark clothing. His eyes went wide, almost like confusion.

Stepping away the knife dropped from his hand and clattered against the pavement of the alley. "Uh…sorry! Sorry!" Her hands began to shake.

The last man, the one with red hair charged at her. He caught in the stomach with a hefty punch that dove her form forward. Stomping down on the man's foot his attention was momentarily broken, letting Diana grab and pushed the back of his head into the brick wall behind them.

She drove and drove his head into the wall until he stopped squirming beneath her grasp.

Once her lungs stopped their greedy grasps for air, Diana's body finally ceased its shaking.

It was as if all the noise that surrounded her floated away as she took their lives. She couldn't even hear the sound of her own heartbeat.

She sat on the curb in the secluded street, blood marring her face and hands until her breath became slow and controlled once more.

That was the problem with the Diana that sat here, she was just as marred as the blood on her hands. The marring was deep beneath her skin, buried and irremovable. The tinge of cold metal still burned against her skin. As if, always waiting for their turn, the blades used in that dungeon would be right back against her.

Slipping and searing and tearing into her bones, into her flesh, into her psyche. There was not a Diana that existed that was unmarred anymore.