They were playing with her. Giving her a chance to climb painfully to her feet, take a few swipes at the idiot that came at her first and then they would rush her and take her down. Then they would back off, give her time to recover. They slapped, punched and kicked her. They hit her in the places that hurt most, but they didn't use weapons. Though she was a mass of bruises, she didn't think anything was broken. Yet.
It was only a matter of time. She knew the Master wanted this to end in her death. They would become progressively rougher until there was nothing of her left. She had seen these beatings before. Failure was unacceptable. And disloyalty was worse.
"Stand up, bitch!" Someone snarled from behind her, kicking her thigh hard enough to knock her forward. Rain pelted her, plastering her cargo pants and white T-shirt against her body. She knew her shirt was becoming muddy and transparent, but couldn't bring herself to care.