The Second Day
“….”
“Nngh… hah….”
“Hah…. Hah….”
The cell door opened, and I carefully stepped inside.
Past the narrow entrance lay a space just as cramped, where three inmates sat waiting. They too had been through torture — leaning against the walls, barely upright, their breathing ragged and broken by soft moans of pain.
Among them was A522, the one who had been hurt so badly.
“Well then. Have a good night.”
— Clank. Bang. Rattle.
With Leviathan’s parting words, the cell door locked shut once more.
Light vanished. Darkness settled over the space, and I crawled in search of somewhere to lean. Too narrow to stand, too tight to sit with any ease. Even with three people it had felt cramped the night before — now, with a fourth added, lying down was out of the question. Even resting against the wall without overlapping was a struggle.
“Hoo…. Hah….”
I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark, then moved into the space A522 had cleared for me. As if already practiced at this, A711 and A691 both shifted a little to make room.
“….”
As I drew alongside her, A522’s body came into view. For a moment the terrible state I had seen her in only hours earlier flashed through my mind. Was she all right? Why had she been hurt so badly?
Fortunately, every wound had been treated.
While I was still torn between curiosity and concern, A522 reached over first and pressed her fingers against my thigh, leaving a message.
Nothing complicated. Just rest.
The exhaustion I could feel in that message made me set my questions aside for now. There would be time to ask later — the way I had spoken with A711 in the guards’ office. For the moment, rest came first.
More than anything else — I was exhausted too. Worn down to nothing. All I wanted was to sleep.
“….”
Taking A522’s message as a cue, A691 — sitting on the opposite side — lay down first. She pressed her hips into one corner and stretched out in an L-shape, legs extended. A522 rested her head on those legs and lay down on the floor in the same posture.
My turn next.
No one had explained it, but I understood. This was the only way all four of us could lie down inside this narrow cell.
“…Hah.”
I pressed my own hips into a corner the same way and laid my head on A522’s leg. Her prominent thigh wasn’t exactly comfortable — but maybe because I was used to sleeping on high pillows, it felt better than the night before.
“….”
The moment I settled, I felt someone rest their head against my outstretched legs. Too dark to see clearly, but from the long hair and the position, it had to be A711.
Finally, once A691 rested her head on A711’s legs, we would all be using one another’s bodies as pillows.
It was certainly more efficient than dozing upright. Of course, efficient didn’t mean comfortable. Calling it “lying on someone’s legs” was generous — the space was so tight that, depending on the person, your head ended up on a thigh or a hip. Lying on our sides made the cuffed arms ache. And because we were all leaning on each other, any movement rippled through the whole arrangement.
“Hoo…. Hnk…. Hnk….”
Harsh as the conditions were, sleep still came. Everything the day had put us through. Bodies pushed past their limits dragged our minds down into dreams.
“….”
To have to sleep like this. I had always cared about my bedding — bought a king-size mattress, never skimped on sheets and pillows. For someone like me, a cell too small for even one person to lie properly was the worst possible bed.
And the ventilation was terrible. The smell was awful. Sweat. Blood from the torture… and the scent of arousal every one of us had produced. The thick cocktail of odors filling the cell was enough to make me irritable. Knowing some of that smell came from my own body pushed irritation past into revulsion — directed entirely at myself. On top of that, I was fairly sure my scent was the strongest, which only piled on a pointless guilt toward the others.
“…Haa. Hoo…. Haa. Hoo….”
One by one, consciousness slipped away into sleep. I needed to sleep too. But I couldn’t. Exhausted as I was, with sleep pressing hard against me, the wretchedness of our situation and that useless guilt kept swirling, and my eyes refused to close.
“….”
Add the anxiety that the Stimulation Spores might start moving again at any moment, and the confinement itself felt unbearably cruel.
Ah. I want a shower.
When was the last time I had washed? Come to think of it, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had gone to sleep without bathing.
A day that stood in total opposition to ordinary life. Feeling, in my bones, that not a single moment of ease was possible here — I finally let go. Only then did drowsiness pull a cover over my mind.
Ahh—
I’m so tired.
My eyes opened.
Or rather — strictly speaking, I had opened them more times than I could count. Once because the Stimulation Spores stirred. Once because of A691’s snoring… and beyond those, the thrashing and nightmares of one inmate or another, the dull ache of cuffs and shackles, had jolted me awake and dropped me back under again and again.
And then the itching between my legs. Where the healing salve had been applied, a constant sting and tickle meant that even when I managed to sleep, I woke almost at once. The others were the same. We tossed and turned and kept interrupting each other’s rest until even the guilt toward one another dulled.
A522 and A691, who had been in prison a long time, had been cycling through waking and sleeping with easy indifference from the start…
Will I end up like that too, after a few months?
A711, who had been resting her head on my legs, sat up. A691 smacked her lips and yawned, and A522 and I had no choice but to rise as well. Even if we tried to sink back into sleep with the dark for company, bodies that had recovered even a little refused. It hadn’t been enough rest — but with the worst of the exhaustion lifted, we were no longer worn down enough to sleep through the discomfort.
The thought of morning approaching made the fear swell. I understood now why A522 had trembled so hard yesterday morning. The training we had endured. Above all, the thought of facing torture again made the road ahead look pitch-black.
I asked A522 out of worry, and the answer that came back was at least that I wouldn’t have to suffer exactly what I had yesterday. I let out a breath of relief.
Of course… the content itself was bleak. Torture that changed every day — meaning torture every day. And “similar training continues” meant that whether it was sucking a dildo, being penetrated, or having our throats worked over… we would still be doing something that fell into the same category. Nothing to celebrate.
And yet I could still feel relief, because yesterday’s terror had cut so deep. Training and torture severe enough to break a person’s spirit in a single day. It had felt extreme enough that I would rather face an unknown fear than go through the same thing again.
As if she had read my mind, A522 offered new information.
Even so. The fact that lockdown looked preferable at all was only because I had already lived through a day in this place.
— Clank.
“…!”
“…!”
“Hmm?”
“….”
Right in the middle of our finger-written conversation, a heavy resonance shuddered through the iron door. The sensation of a heart dropping. Fear and dread of the day ahead came flooding in like a tide.
“Out.”
Leviathan’s indifferent voice. Another person’s words ringing in my ears pressed down on my heart. My body still hadn’t fully healed. The throbbing muscle pain made every movement hard. And still — I had to obey the order.
“Sleep well?”
I stepped out of the cell, squinting against the glare. For a moment the air felt different from inside, and I exhaled hard. Even a slightly fresher breath filling my lungs was enough to remind me all over again how wretched the cell environment truly was.
“Numbers.”
The procedure was the same as yesterday. Leviathan issued the command to the four of us lined up outside the cell, and we shouted in number order at the top of our lungs.
“A522!”
“Cough-cough. Hooo~ A691!”
“A711!”
“A713!”
Dust had settled in my throat overnight; my voice came out hoarse. Even so, A691 put on a playful swagger. That was going to get her in trouble.
Sure enough.
— Smack!
“Ugh…! Ah….”
“A691. You start every day by getting hit, don’t you. Fine. We’ll begin with you today. The Prisoner’s Oath.”
“…The Prisoner’s Oath.”
Cheek stinging from the slap for her insolence, A691 wet her lips and took position. Kneeling on the floor, looking up at Leviathan. And from her mouth, sullen but resigned, the Prisoner’s Oath began to flow.
“We are prisoners defeated by lust.”
“We are garbage without human worth.”
“We are crazy bitches.”
“Under the care and education of our guards, we learn the value of being human.”
“Guard… I will obey… without limit. I ask for your guidance again today.”
I had been tense the whole time, half-expecting her to deliberately flub a line and sour the mood — but thankfully A691 finished the oath properly. Leviathan’s expression, however, was not pleased.
“Your voice is too quiet. Go on, then. Keep flashing that defiant streak. I’ve told you before — we guards are not here to service your libido.”
“Ah… ahhk!! Uwaaaagh!”
The cruelty that followed. Apparently dissatisfied with A691’s volume, Leviathan lifted his foot and pressed it firmly down onto her kneeling thigh. He had only set his foot on her — and yet a scream tore from A691’s mouth.
“Ahhk!! Aaaaaagh!! Nngh! S-stop!! Ahhk!”
“I don’t know why you keep running your mouth when this is what you get every time. Hmm? A691.”
“Khhnk!”
“Answer me! A691!”
“Yes! Yes!!”
The way Leviathan barked at her was terrifying. In ordinary society he might have come across as a mild-faced, almost cute guy around our age — but in glasses and full uniform, he carried an atmosphere that went far beyond his looks. An air that said he was never to be defied. And that low, pressing voice.
“Looking at the state you were in when you came out of solitary yesterday, I figured you’d get cocky again today — so I made a special point of wearing shoes with spikes on the soles.”
“Nngh! Kh! Ahhhnk!”
“See what’s fitted to these shoes? You’ve heard of them, right? They’re called Eisen. Means ‘iron,’ apparently — and true to the name, it’s a device that mounts iron spikes under a shoe. How does it feel? Hmm?”
“Kyaaaugh!! Aaaagh!!”
“Even those thighs of yours, built up from all that exercise — this thing can tear them open this easily. Go on. Get cocky one more time. Next time I’ll plant both feet on your thighs and stand on you.”
“Nngh! S-stop…! Please!”
I glanced down out of the corner of my eye and saw thin streams of blood running down A691’s thighs. Just as Leviathan had said, the Eisen spikes had torn into her flesh and left wounds.
“Kyaaaaagh!! Kh!”
Leviathan shifted his weight further onto A691’s struggling body. He caught her jaw in his hand as she writhed in pain and issued another merciless order.
“A691.”
“Yes! A691…! Hhk… uhhk!”
“The Prisoner’s Oath. From the beginning.”
“Kh… The Prisoner’s Oath!!”
“We are prisoners defeated by lust!”
“We are garbage without human worth!”
“We are crazy bitches!!”
“Aaagh!! Under the care and education of our guards, we learn the value of being human!”
“I will obey the guards without limit. I ask for your guidance again todaaay!!! Ahhk! Kh…!”
The instant the words left her, A691 roared them out until her throat split. Loud enough not merely to be heard but to carry all the way to the end of the corridor. A scream? Or a cry of pure despair?
“A691.”
“Yes! A691.”
“Before you were re-incarcerated, your previous guard was Asmode, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right!”
“I know that big sister of mine is a little soft. So you probably thought this place would be easy — but you’d do well to keep the brat act within limits. And…”
“…Aaaagh!! Ugh!”
The moment he released her jaw, he lifted his foot as well. Leviathan let the sentence trail off, studying A691 steadily, then fixed her with a hard glare.
“Since you’re so proud of that body of yours, I think I ought to test just how durable it really is. Tonight. I’ll be using you — so after torture hours, come to my room.”
“…Uh… uugh!”
“Answer.”
“Yes!!”
Several deep wounds remained on A691’s thighs. Not so much cuts as holes punched into the skin; blood welled and ran down her legs. Leviathan took a pressure bandage from the basket he had brought and wrapped it around her thighs — movements so smooth and natural it was as if he had expected exactly this outcome.
“A713.”
“Yes!”
His call snapped me out of my daze. Terrified of ending up like A691, I answered in a rush.
“The Prisoner’s Oath.”
My turn now.