Warning: torture, violence, blood, NSFW.


The thumping electronic music pounding in the background helped soothe his nerves, helped him blank out his mind. He didn't want to think yet silence was all too often the cause and so he had turned up the volume, allowing the music to wash over him and envelope him in its pulsing embrace.

Mercury unleashed a series of solid kicks at the sandbag in front of him, putting every bit of energy and all of his weight behind his attacks. His muscles ached and drops of sweat rolled off his bare back but he never let up. He couldn't, because if he broke his concentration for even one second, he would start thinking again. He would start questioning his loyalty, start doubting his beliefs; and it drove him up the walls.

He smashed a leg against the sandbag once more and it swung far away from him. He stood his ground, one foot behind the other, both arms raised in a blocking stance. The sandbag slammed into him but he took the brunt of the impact with his arms and shoulder. Then he was off again, sending a flurry of kicks at the training tool.

His legs ached and his knee was sore but he didn't let up. He needed to feel the fatigue creep through his body, needed to feel the adrenaline rush through his veins. The blood had already seeped through the bandages wrapped around his knees, staining it a brilliant crimson. He had no doubt they were bruised and chafed, every blow only serving to worsen the injuries. But he didn't care. He needed the pain. He wanted to feel something. Anything but the haunting doubt plaguing his mind.

Someone entered the training room wordlessly. The interruption irked him but he didn't turn around.

"Is there something you want?"

"It's time."

His shoulders tensed and a sudden warmth flared up his back. Hands moved to slick his hair back away from his sweat-drenched face wearily.

"I see."

Mercury didn't bother grabbing a shirt but he stalked out of the room, eyebrows furrowed and eyes downcast.

It was time.


The details were still hazy at this point but from what he had gathered, Cinder had managed to capture Pyrrha on a scouting mission and she had dragged the battered and bruised girl to the cells for interrogation.

He hadn't understood the significance of such a move at that time, but when Emerald had dragged him down to the dungeons to watch the punishment with unbridled enthusiasm, Mercury had realized that it was nothing more than humiliation at its finest.

Stripped naked with chained feet apart, he watched as a White Fang member slashed at Pyrrha's body with a knife, the metal running up and down her back, her chest, her thighs and blood oozed out from every break in the skin. Pyrrha was struggling to contain the fear and pain, biting her lip to prevent herself from making any noise. But that only served to encourage her torturer even more as he unleashed his blows much more viciously and with more frequency.

Mercury adjusted his fingerless gloves once before folding his arms and leaning back against the stone wall, jaw locked and eyes grim as he witnessed the brutal display before him.

Mercury had no qualms with killing people, not if orders demanded that he do so. But he had never enjoyed needless suffering and pain. He derived no pleasure from inflicting such agony on others; in fact, he found it pointless and barbaric.

The torturer moved closer to Pyrrha, a hand reaching up to caress her face, knife trailing down lightly so as not to shred the soft skin, but with just enough force to leave red streaks on the side. Then, he continued his torture with a smirk on his lips.

Merciless was what it was and a scream finally escaped from Pyrrha's lips when she could no longer bear the pain. With a sudden flourish, the man stabbed the knife into her abdomen, just low enough to miss the vital organs but enough to inflict excruciating pain. Ragged gasps reverberated throughout the room and Pyrrha's body went limp, hanging loosely from her restraints. Mercury could see that she was delirious with pain at this point, body slick with sweat and convulsing intermittently.

The lieutenant paused to let her catch her breath and he could see the man's lips form soundless words as he leaned in to whisper in the female's ear. Pyrrha must have caught what it was though for there was a sharp inhalation of breath, her eyes widening in terror. The man laughed and slashed at her once more, eliciting another scream from her.

Panting, Pyrrha looked up, eyes glazed over in agony.

Their eyes locked briefly and Mercury looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

As much as he hated torture, it was not his place to step in and intervene.

He could not interfere in such affairs.

But as her screams grew louder and as more blood streamed down her body and splattered onto the floor, Mercury found himself growing restless. He closed his eyes, fingers digging deeper into his arms with every pained howl, every agonizing sob.

And when he opened his eyes again, he saw that even Emerald had left. He pushed himself off the wall and turned to do the same, but the subsequent cry caused him to hesitate. He glanced back reluctantly only to see the female fading in and out of consciousness.

Try as he may not to care, Mercury was not oblivious to Pyrrha's suffering. And though his face remained stoic, he was actually waging an internal battle as to whether his intervention was warranted or not.

Indifference for the female lingered in the back of his mind but there was an uncomfortable asphyxiation in his chest and he didn't know what to do.

For someone who had made such an effort to distance himself, he was doing a pretty shitty job at handling his feelings. And right now, he was a conundrum of contradictory emotions.

"Leaving so soon, Mercury?"

Cinder's voice floated over to him and he froze, one hand on the handle of the door.

He did not turn around.

"Yes, I find this…activity…rather tasteless," he said lowly and left the room with Pyrrha's screams still ringing in his ears.

And though he tried to convince himself that it was not something for him to interfere in, he just couldn't shake off the feeling that he was, to some extent…abandoning her.

He wouldn't lie. He hated the feeling.