Dimension

Chapter 5

The distant stomping smacked against the metal floor, echoing across the long metal hall. Every few meters the metal had formed a few dents. The bolts were hammered deep into the grey walls. Hospital white light shone above the two men heading over to the classified zone of the facility. The smell of disinfectant reeked in every room of the building.

The stomping came to a halt in front of the thick metal door with a single bullseye window. With an exchange of glances, the door opened after the rooms pin and keycard were inserted. With a loud groan the door slowly swung open to reveal one side of the room seperated by a armor window. A single chair was shoved neatly underneath the grey table which was proped by the glass wall, a small microphone, check-in papers laid across and an emergency button.

The blonde off duty nodded to the facility manager, thanking him for this brief opportunity to communicate with the young woman who had successfully attacked his best friend.

The click and rumbling of locking doors was a sign for him that they're now alone apart from the security camera to the right corner of the door. The rubbing of metal against metal made an uncomfortable squeel as he pulled the chair back, letting himself fall into it. His poisonous green eyes darkened with fury as his eyes immediately daggered through the chained up girl.

Her body was tangled up in said chains which were hanging from wall to wall in the cussioned cell behind the glass. The glittery hands were contaminated in a big block of metal attached to the floor. It tore her whole upper body down, her spine was revealed clearly through the orange jumpsuit which color coded the woman as highly dangerous. Mattened, ashened colorful Hair covered her facial features giving him no sign of her knowing that he's here. Or if she's even alive.

"Hello, nr. 7786! I'm here for questioning!", squeeled through the speakers, but she did not flinch. His grip tightened around the straw-thin mic, "It's about the hero Eraserhead! The pro you've fought against two nights ago".

His voice was firm and serious, a side anyone rarely sees from the loud and cheerful Yamada. She did not move, not even a single hair strand. The AC on the wall and the light above buzzed simultaneously, giving the seperated rooms life to the dead silence.

"We both know you won't open your mouth, but I won't give in so easily! Were are Aizawas whereabouts?", if the mic was thicker, Yamada's fingernails wouldn't be digging into his palm.

The lack of emotions and movement pissed him off. He imagined biting into the mic and was certain he'd be able to break it. Wishing he could scream the woman to Oblivion, he knew it wouldn't help him further. To him it's like the calling of the void, wanting to jump off a cliff with no suicidal intensions.

"Is he save? Or at least alive?"

Her body slightly heaved, a creepy grin stretched across her humoured features, but it did not make Hizashi any more proud of that reaction. It made his blood boil and it exhausted him. How can that Bakugou boy keep up with this facade? It felt like a closed pot full of boiling water about to shoot the lid off, bubbles already crossing the line and aggressively sizzling against the fire.

White knuckles, red faced and a knotted rope replacing his throat bothered him to the point that he'd lash out on himself, but a temper tantrum would only enlighten the woman across him. She was waiting for the entertainment. The smile was being a sign of excitement that she knew that the party has only begun, and she was the center of attention.

The chains and locks felt like satin cloths gracing her skin yet bruising her with every move as she walked down her own red carpet in black. The parade of people eyeing her and bowing at her power gathered around in awe and fear. It was finally time for her to be heard and acknowledged.