Girls' Talk
Thud.
“Ugh… ahh….”
Inside the cramped cell where they huddled close together, Leviathan glanced in briefly, fixed each of them with a cold stare in turn, then shoved Yejin’s body through the doorway as if he were simply dumping her.
“….”
His icy gaze froze them all solid. For reasons none of them could name, a terror that felt ready to burst their hearts seized every one of them.
Clang. Bang. Rattle. Click.
Without leaving a single word behind, Leviathan shut the cell door and walked away.
What remained was Inmate A691—their cellmate, Kim Yejin.
“Phew…. Ha. Ugh….”
Once Leviathan’s presence had faded, Yejin, sprawled on the floor, blew the hair that had been covering her face aside and tucked it behind her ear. Depending on how you looked at it, the gesture still carried a stubborn refusal to break. But the face that emerged was the worst any of them had ever seen on her.
“Ugh… nngh….”
Bruises ringed her eyes; blood seeped from a split lip. Her face was only the beginning. Like Jaehee, her clothes had been torn past the point of existing, and her body was a map of purple welts and scabbed-over wounds. Strands of hair ripped out during the drag back here clung to her skin, and some glossy fluid—whatever had been done to her—smeared her in sticky patches.
“…Hah.”
Yet the light in her eyes held. That, more than anything, felt like the Yejin they knew. They still didn’t know her well, but this was exactly the image she had always projected.
Then her fingers brushed her own thigh. Even with both hands locked behind her back she twisted with surprising flexibility, bringing one hand forward to open the conversation first.
Don’t make that weird face. Doesn’t hurt much.
The message she scrawled with trembling fingers was pure bravado. Looking at her, the narrator answered honestly.
Stop bluffing and rest. Going to sleep right away?
The reply must have surprised her. Yejin stared at the narrator’s face for a long moment, then slowly shook her head. Of course. Her body was far too wrecked for sleep.
Even if they tried to use one another as pillows the way they had the night before, the wounds made every position dangerous. In the end they all had to sleep sitting up, backs against the wall, curled in on themselves.
Was it because four people now filled the cell, or because Yejin’s return had triggered an extra dose of recovery fluid? The humidity inside felt noticeably higher. Sweat actually beaded on their skin.
Tell Luia next to you it’s okay to stretch her legs more.
OK.
Once their eyes adjusted to the dark and sleep became impossible to fight, they finally settled into the least painful arrangement they could find. Bodies could not press fully together, so they shifted carefully, reducing contact points while hunting for any posture that might let them rest. It would never be comfortable, but they had to try.
I’m fine—lean on me if you want.
No. If you lean, Yejin next to you will suffer.
OK.
They kept adjusting until everyone could coexist: backs to the wall, each pair of legs slid carefully under the legs of the person beside them. It was the only position that lessened the shocks and still allowed a miserable kind of sleep.
I’m going to sleep.
Yeah.
The space was merciless. A cell barely large enough for one person to rest now held four; the strain was crushing. The narrator had only been here three days, yet Jaehee—who had lived like this for a full year—suddenly seemed extraordinary. Would the narrator ever adapt? Would she one day be able to lie down for days at a stretch the way Jaehee did?
Ah… that reminded her of the reward A701 had asked for the day before yesterday. She had begged Marmon for one night of use. Presumably, a night spent in the guards’ quarters would at least let her stretch both legs out while she slept. The quality would depend entirely on the guard’s mood, but if they had actually let her rest that way, the reason A701 had chosen that particular reward suddenly made perfect sense.
It was truly… unbearable. Everyone suffered here; they all endured it. Still, the simple freedom to lie down flat was something she ached for.
“Hah….”
“Hnn… hnn….”
While worry piled higher, Jaehee—who had taken the worst beating—drifted off with soft snoring. Head dropped forward, using her own knees as a pillow, she somehow kept the posture even in sleep. Beyond impressive, it was heartbreaking how exhausted she must have been.
“….”
Next Luia fell asleep. Her body tipped slightly toward the narrator; the soft weight of her full breasts pressed against arm and shoulder, waking a perfectly measured ache in the bruises there.
…Right. Sleep. She had to sleep. Tomorrow would again be filled with training and torture—another endless, painful day. Thankfully her own eyelids were finally surrendering to exhaustion. If she closed them now, she could rest. A few hours, maybe only a few dozen minutes of remaining sleep had to be claimed. She had no confidence she could survive another day of drills and torment on no sleep. Judging by the guards’ natures, even if she collapsed they would not stop.
Sleep. Sleep desperately.
She shut her eyes and gathered the drifting fragments of sleep against her chest. Through the slowly closing lids she could still see Yejin panting through the pain. Please, fall asleep soon too. Holding tomorrow in their minds, they slipped one by one into the world of sleep.
Yesterday the same as today. In ordinary life the phrase proved boredom; here it was the most accurate description of their pain.
They woke and dozed in cycles. The bodies that had leaned against the wall ached from constant shifting, and the postures they had carefully arranged had long since fallen apart in sleep.
“Ugh….”
The only mercy was that they had gotten through the night without complaint. Only when they finally pressed their hips to the wall and leaned fully into one another did real sleep claim them—an arrangement born of half-conscious desperation while every one of them was already sleep-deprived.
Then morning arrived.
“Haa. Hah….”
“Mm….”
“Cough!… Haa. Hah….”
Everyone, including the narrator, opened their eyes. Eye gunk crusted thick enough to annoy, yet with hands still bound none of them could rub it away. They simply blinked, scanning the dark, ready to give any still-sleeping cellmate a little more quiet. No one wanted more sleep. In the gloom they carefully moved their battered bodies, working out the worst of the stiffness.
Fortunately Leviathan had not yet come. Being dragged out the moment they woke would have been pure hell; the small window to check on one another and prepare for the day felt like a genuine mercy.
“Mm-mm.”
They confirmed one another’s awareness in silence. Then Jaehee made a soft sound that drew every eye. Yejin reacted first. After a night of constant groaning she seemed a little easier now; she shifted close to Jaehee and began lightly tickling the other woman’s thigh, clearly passing a message.
What were the two of them talking about? In a place where they could be dragged out at any second, their sudden activity was worrying. Come to think of it, Leviathan felt late today. Was that only imagination?
“Hm.”
While the narrator fretted, Yejin finished the exchange and nodded vigorously. Then each woman passed the message to the person beside her. Jaehee’s fingers settled on the narrator’s thigh.
After counting to about five hundred, I’m going to speak. Don’t panic—just stay quiet and watch. Got it?
The content was unexpected. What conversation could possibly be worth that kind of risk? Speaking without permission earned punishment on Prison Island. Worry surged, yet the narrator still nodded. Yejin and Jaehee’s faces were too resolute for questions, and after so long inside these walls they were unlikely to do anything truly stupid.
“….”
Silence stretched. Tense, they counted silently in their heads. No one kept the same pace, so the numbers inevitably drifted, but the point was simply to finish roughly together.
“….”
Numbers ticking inside their minds. Time sliding past. Counting slowly to five hundred should take about ten minutes. What ten minutes meant here was a mystery, but they waited without a word.
“Hoo.”
Around the moment the count was ending, Jaehee—who had been resting her head on her knees—lifted her face and spoke toward the ceiling.
“Ah. I’m bored.”
Neither soft nor loud; the words carried clearly to every corner of the tiny cell. Everyone tensed. Yejin, who already knew the plan, and Luia, who had received the same message, and the narrator, who had been pulled into the situation without full knowledge—all of them held their breath and waited.
“….”
A long, breathless pause. Jaehee’s words stopped there. After what felt like an eternity a presence stirred outside. Would that single sentence be enough to get them dragged out? Hearts hammering, they stayed rigid.
Several more minutes passed before the presence proved to be nothing more than imagination. Only then did another voice speak.
“Hoo~ Jaehee, you did great. Looks like Leviathan’s on leave today.”
It was Yejin. She let out a long breath, gave a rough little laugh, and addressed Jaehee directly.
“Yeah. Thought my heart was going to explode…. When I roughly timed when you got brought back, I half-suspected it. Any idea what time you actually returned?”
“No idea.… But thinking about it, I must’ve been worked over for a few hours, so maybe around four or five in the morning?”
“Then he caught the first shuttle home.”
“Probably.”
The conversation had begun. For a moment the narrator could only stare in confusion, still catching up. Jaehee and Yejin both snorted softly and explained.
“Ah. Nayoon… right? Heh. Leviathan’s hilarious. We used to call each other by name, you know. Anyway, finally getting a proper introduction.”
“Uh… ah. Yes….”
“Hoo~ Speak casually. I told you yesterday—remember? When a guard takes leave, there are days we just stay locked up. Today’s one of those.”
“On a guard’s day off we don’t get food or water, but talking is allowed. If we get too loud the control room steps in, but as long as we don’t get caught, nothing happens.”
“Ah… I see.”
Finished explaining, the two edged a little closer. Luia scooted in as well. Their bodies still ached, but quiet conversation required proximity.
“Hoo… that aside. Yejin, are you okay? What the hell happened to you last night?”
“Ah… just the usual. That sadistic bastard Leviathan! Ugh, now I’m pissed again. He wasn’t like this when he was still a fresh-faced newbie, but ever since A479 dumped him he’s been a little unhinged.”
“A479…?”
“There used to be an inmate like that. Same cell as me once, already a re-enrolled veteran, so pretty experienced. Anyway—last night? Last night was just….”
Yejin looked down at the wounds covering her body, clicked her tongue, and began recounting the night’s events.
“After torture time ended, while he was taking Jaehee back, I headed to the guards’ office first.”
“Whoa! You went there after that whipping? That’s insane….”
“If I didn’t go he’d just drag me anyway…. And look at me—yeah, a few more hits and it would’ve been dangerous, but I could still walk.”
They had always known she was tough, but hearing it from her own mouth hit differently. Leviathan’s earlier comments, her own confidence, and above all the fact that she had walked to the office after taking more than a hundred lashes—all of it proved her physicality was anything but ordinary. Come to think of it, she had said she was a trainer. A gym trainer, maybe? The random curiosity was set aside so she could keep listening.
“So I was waiting, and Leviathan walked in. He hung me from the ceiling by both wrists in the exact same position as the whipping, then started punching my stomach like I was a sandbag.”
“Your stomach?”
“Yeah. Beat me until I actually threw up. See here?”
“Ah…!”
Yejin indicated her abdomen with a glance. Bruises clustered especially thick around her lower belly. Hidden under the whip marks, they had gone unnoticed until now; looking closer, the deep contusions could never have come from a lash.
“That bastard. Seriously… hoo…. Anyway, he put on something like brass knuckles and just kept hitting. Before I got locked up I was living soft, so I’ve got a little padding now, but I used to have clear six-pack abs. I can usually take a gut punch no problem… but Leviathan was a real demon. After about ten hits I couldn’t breathe.”
“That must’ve hurt….”
“The pain was one thing, but not being able to breathe almost drove me crazy. Anyway, that was just the appetizer….”
“What…?”
“The real thing came after.”
Last night’s story—events that had happened only a few hours ago—continued without pause.