It’s not the realization that he can’t remember falling asleep that’s most distressing. Matt scarcely sleeps any more. If it’s not his own tormented guilt keeping him awake, it’s the sounds of anguish from those around him — the ones they don’t even know he can hear. But when the dream comes to an end, everything is quiet now. The stillness is beyond that which he’s ever known. It’s that gentle sense of tranquility that brings Matt Murdock lurching to consciousness. For a man who’s used to an incessant cacophony of sounds and scents and vibrations, the total absence of anything at all is all the proof he needs that something is terribly wrong.

Not entirely nothing; not exactly. The bed beneath his shoulders is softer than anything he’s known in months, and the carpet between his toes is plush and warm. It’s a far cry from a prison cell. Under a different set of circumstances entirely, Matt might even call it hospitable. But with the steady realization that he is blind — well and truly without sight — it’s hard to appreciate these little niceties.

His first instinct is to reach out for anything with which to orient himself, but the particulars of his current environment are further away than they’ve ever been. Matt stifles his instinct to call out. He can hear his own hands on his skin, but not his heartbeat, nor the heartbeat of anyone else. If there is anyone at all. Head swimming with static, he takes one bold step forward and promptly rams his shin into the nightstand. The table lamp sways ominously, then crashes to the floor and shatters.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The Man Without Fear. Who would believe it now?

What better way to get to know his new confines than through a little bit of retail therapy? Matt certainly has a taste for the finer things, and after his stint in prison he's not apt to say no to a bit of shopping. Especially with the offer of a gift card. It's something of a trial by fire for the man, when the world around him seems so flat and so dull. But he takes his time to learn his surroundings as he browses.

paradiso

No surprise that among the first of what Matt locates is one of the most extravagant clothing stores the mall has to offer. It'll drain the entirety of his gift card to accessorize his feet alone, but that doesn't stop Matt from flicking through the racks and running his fingers over the various fabrics.

"What about this one?" Matt asks no one in particular, fishing off the rack a coordinating navy blue double-breasted pinstripe suit with gold buttons. (Emblazoned, of course, with the telltale Paradiso logo.)

Slice 'n' Dice Pizza

It's sure as hell no New York slice, but it's hot and cheesy and a far cry better than anything they serve up from the kitchens of federal prison. Matt's got two slices of cheese balanced precariously on a takeaway tray as he navigates his way through the food court. The cheery music coming from the beckoning indoor carousel is a good homing beacon. Unfortunately, the riders spilling off the little plastic horses are a bit tipsy from their tour, and when one steps in Matt's path he loses the tray and flings those two bubbling slices of pizza splat into the middle of their chest.

[Prefer something different entirely? Come at me with whatever you've got.]