Slate
Member
Hematite looked at the girl, a sense of unease in his stomach. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be part of the hazing ritual– and the girl wasn’t really a girl, she was barely younger than him– but he wasn’t fond of the process. Obsidian was standing behind him, by the door, watching with a blank expression. The woman tied to the chair, whose name was Onyx, had grey hair and grey eyes and had extensive scars on her throat. He knew that was the reason she was mute. He knew all about her history.
“She’s refused to answer the questions. Now you apply the pressure. Give her a reason to want to, alright? Don’t worry, Pearl is currently in residence in the spare rooms upstairs. She might not be able to heal the damage to Onyx’s vocal cords, but she can heal the bruises and damage you’re about to do to her. Now work, Hematite.”
The young black man sighed, shaking out his dreads. He took the cord from his pocket and tied them back, getting them out of his face. Then, he shifted his skin, feeling it turn to steel. It wasn’t real steel, of course, but it’s structure was close enough to call it that. In reality, it had something to do with the iron in his blood and replicating the cells and combining them with other cells in his body. Either way, the effect left his skin shiny and metallic, and just as hard.
He swallowed and looked at her. Onyx was his friend. He had been on the team when they had rescued her. He’d just been a kid then. It had been one of the first things he had done alongside Malachite and Obsidian. It had been the mission he’d been introduced to Rhody on. Maria, his wife. He’d met Onyx then, and they had become fast friends.
That was why what he was about to do was so hard.
He would his arm back and swung, aiming for her cheek where it was the most fleshy. He wanted to hurt her as little as possible while also making it hurt as much as possible. That was what Obsidian had told him. Leave them in good enough condition to speak– or in this case, sign– but make them wish they couldn’t. The strike was true, and his cold, metallic fist connected with her soft cheek. Hematite winced and looked away.
It would have been easier if it wasn’t her.