The girl sat in a bright room with a rusted crown of iron. It sat cold and dark on her head with streaks of rust, like blood. Veins ran from her head to a monster, a man misshapen and pale, with small black eyes. The girl tried to pull a large metal cube with a strand of hair. It broke and she cried out in pain.

Yelena swayed back and forth over a river cloudy with runoff from the mine. Titanium shackles held her ankles together and to a thick rope that faded into the darkness above her. An old rusted brank* sat over her face, spurs on the gag cut into her cheeks and tongue. The lock must have been made of aluminum because it didn't respond to her pulling. She felt like an ice pick was lodged into the back of her head from the blow she received earlier.

After an eternity, the thick smell of tobacco wafted through the air. Yelena twisted around to find the source. On the platform above her stood her captor. He wore a sweat-stained undershirt and khaki-colored fatigues tucked into old leather boots. His wiry gray hair was tied out of his bearded face, his eyes were covered by round sunglasses. A thick cigar sat in the corner of his mouth, obscuring a sadistic smirk.

"What do we have here?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth. He took his cigar out of his mouth with one hand and with the other he reached out toward Yelena. It was a sensation she had never felt, a pull on her magnetic field, like somebody tugging on her essence.

Yelena was pulled to the catwalk in a large arc, the rope still taught. Being raised up was a reprieve from the pressure in her head. The man pulled the brank back, stretching her neck and forcing her head back. It was sudden and the barbs on the gag dug into the roof of her mouth. She glared at him with bulging eyes.

"You're alive for two reasons." He held up two fingers in front of her face. She could feel grease and oil on his gloves. "One," he said, "Is because you might be useful. Then other, because I want to run some tests on you. You have a unique ability, in addition to being a glorified magnet."

Yelena snarled at him in reply. "Ooh, feisty, maybe I caught myself a Lycan." He laughed. "I'm going to take this off of you, no biting now." He reached behind her head and unlocked the brank, it floated away from her head and onto the platform. Her mouth was left with the taste of rust mixed with blood.

"Now, why are you here?" He asked. Yelena snorted and spat a bloody ball of phlegm at him. His face contorted with rage, and the pull on her field dropped. She fell immediately in a pendulum motion away from the catwalk. As she swung back in his direction he punched her in the face, causing her to swing back in a bloody spray. The momentum made her nauseous, and her stomach emptied. Vomit and blood ran up her face, it pooled and burned in her nose, causing her to cough and gag.

"You rotten bitch!" he yelled at her. "Fucking hang there." He retreated into the service lift behind him. Yelena slowly counted to thirty and pulled thebrank to her. On her second pass to the platform, she was able to pull it with her. In his anger, the man didn't seem to realize it disappeared over the edge.

The brank floated in front of her face and she pulled the this way and that on the gag until it finally snapped off. She let the rest fall into the abyss and sawed the rope binding her arm. It felt like hours before the barbs eventually cut through the thick rope, and her arm flopped down by her face. Her head was growing heavy and it was growing difficult to breathe, but she was not halfway free.

With a grunt, Yelena bent up towards her feet, she could barely reach the shackles with her fingers. She pulled on the metal anchor holding her rope to the ceiling. It was far enough that the pull was too weak to pull her to the ceiling, but it did allow her to grab the rope. Then shackles were tight around her boots, allowing her to shift her weight and use them as a point of leverage to straighten her body upright, her hand sliding up the rope and steadying herself. With difficulty, she managed to pinch the rope between her feet and her knees, she slid her arm up the rope and straightened out. She managed to inch up the rope, her arm was on fire, and her knees felt like lead, her breath coming in gasps. Yelena continued to pull on the anchor, the pull grew stronger the higher she climbed and eased the strain on her arm.

Eventually, she reached another platform and swung herself onto it. She landed with a crash and rolled onto her back, her whole body crying out in agony. She caught her breath, sat up, and fished the barbed gag from her pocket. She cut the rope off the shackles and then collapsed back onto the platform again. Her blood was pounding in her head and her body felt like jelly. With effort, she sat up again, she grabbed the lock on the shackles. The inside had a steel mechanism. She prodded at the tumblers and the barrel until she was able to "pick" the lock. Yelena threw the shackles off the platform.

"TRULY IMPRESSIVE" A voice crackled from a loudspeaker somewhere in the iron cavern. "I DIDN'T THINK YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO DO IT."

"Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up," Yelena muttered under her breath. Her energy was spent. She heard a door open to her right, the man stepped through it and began walking toward her. Yelena rolled over and tried to stand up, but he was too fast. He planted a boot between her shoulders and pressed her down.

Kneeling on her back he pressed the side of her face into the metal grating of the floor with his hand. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. "You know, alive or dead, I can get the answers I want from you, it makes no difference to me." He let go of her face, "It is easier if you're alive though. Your choice."

He stood up, and Yelena stood up with shakey legs. "Jesus Christ," she cursed as her legs almost gave out.

The man laughed, "You can just call me Heisenberg."

A/N: * wiki/Scold%27s_bridle