Miss Hakkandottir-Metal Hand #4

	There was a flash of metal, then pain raked his right cheek. He screamed and strained against his manacles.

	“I [Hakkandottir] ask questions, you answer. It is a simple arrangement. Do you understand?”

	Modo nodded, blood dripping down his face. Red stains spattered across his white sleeve. (Slade, 80-81)