Try as the girl might, her struggling was futile. The enormous Machamp had her arms pinned to her waist in a grip that made the Dragon Trainer's seem gentle, his second pair of arms restraining and outstretching her wings. With his hands idly behind his back, and a wicked smile curling his lips, Nightmare stood directly before his ensnared prey, the two now seeing eye-to-eye, thanks to the good twelve inches of space between the ground and Otomé's feet.
"Ahhh, finally," the ex-Executive cooed triumphantly, ignoring Jet's snarls and death threats to put a hand under the Water Trainer's chin and thus force her to meet his gaze. "No interference this time. No miracles or last minute escapes…"
But he was interrupted when she growled and suddenly lashed out with a violent kick. But in a single, fluid movement, the blonde moved aside, grabbed a hold of the seventeen-year-old's ankle, and introduced one of her cheeks to the back of his hand in a slap so savage it would surely leave a bruise.
"Defiance is what got Integra killed," he hissed venomously, letting go of her leg in favor of burying his hand in the feathers of one of her wings. "If you keep this up, it'll also make your death more painful than it already will be!" He emphasized his last word by simultaneously grabbing a handful of blue feathers and yanking them out, just as she herself had done on the Starshine Island's beach what felt like a lifetime ago. Though Otomé had bitten down on her tongue to resist crying out, her only show of pain being a glaringly obvious flinch.
Disappointed by his victim's lack of screaming, Nightmare frowned boredly, letting the feathers fall from his grasp as he pondered something for a moment. The girl knew something was wrong when the man suddenly took on a grin only the devil himself could wear. Again, he put a hand to one of her wings, running long fingers over the many feathers, from flight to down, almost in a caressing manner.
"Such pretty wings… It would be a shame if anything… happened… to them…" It was such an innocent statement, yet it filled the Water Trainer with so much terror and foreboding.
"No…" She choked out in a voice barely above a whisper. "No… You wouldn't…"
"Machamp… Break one of those pretty wings… The left one."
As soon as the order left the former Executive's lips, the Articunomorph renewed her struggling effort, practically thrashing now in hopes of wriggling free of the fighter's grasp and saving her doomed wing. But like previously, it was hopeless, and a well-placed, dead-centered Karate Chop instantly paralyzed her, the loud, sicken 'CRACK! that resulted in such a move resonating through the ears of everyone who heard it.
For a split second, all was quiet and serene, as though nothing were amiss. But the silence was shattered by Otomé's agonized, pain-soaked shriek. The force of the Karate Chop had not only snapped the main bone like a brittle twig, but it had also shattered it slightly and forced the now-jagged ends to pierce the fragile feathered skin, creating an injury that was anything but a simple fracture.
Cruelly, Nightmare chuckled.