Walkin’ in a Whumpy Wonderland

like hell yeah dude go catalog everything the torture/illness is doing to you.

My morning routine remains monotonous, as I am sure most subjects’ are. My cellmate and I were awoken by our daily bucket of ice water before being marched to a room she has decided to name “The Experiment Chamber,” though I myself cannot help but believe that this whole ordeal is some sort of experiment, the subject of which still remains unclear. I surmise it may have to do with the strength of the human will.

Her hands were tied as she was beaten more savagely than as per usual, as punishment for her outburst last night.

My beating was the same it’s always been, though I do believe the skin upon my back is beginning to grow numb as Whumper’s whips dig into my flesh, undoubtedly a warning sign of nerve damage. Though I suppose it is my body’s way of doing her best to defend me from our daily onslaught of pain.

Today’s experiment was administered via a crimson colored vial, administered orally, though it burned my mouth and throat the whole way down.

I tried to question what was in the vial, but I received only a hard slap for an answer.

My cellmate, who received a green vial, has been sick all afternoon, and though I have done my best to comfort her, I find it difficult to do so between the bouts of dizziness and fatigue that strike me. I wonder if this is a trial of some sleeping draft, or perhaps a medicine to make us more submissive, but I have yet to obtain further evidence.

Even if this liquid was designed to weaken the body, it has done little to weaken my mind, as I begged our captor for an IV for my cellmate, who is quite dehydrated at the moment, and in desperate need of fluids. I was beaten for this outburst, from which my ribs appear to be broken, given the sharp pain they emit when I move about.

Whumper has made it clear she does not like when I beg for possessions, though I sense a hint of satisfaction in her eyes when one of us begs her to stop whatever harm she is doing to us.

Still, I should likely finish this entry up before our cell is plunged into darkness for the night. I shall report back tomorrow.

whumpee propped up against the pillows, eager to be active but unable to move around all that much; perhaps tomorrow they’ll be able to sit properly, at least

whumpee leaning on caretaker’s shoulder when they try to get up and walk for the first time since the injury

whumpee held up in a saddle, caretaker sitting behind them with their arm wrapped protectively around whumpee’s chest

whumpee sitting at the backseat of a car, their head pressed to the cool glass; they’re still shivering but caretaker’s coat’s warm and cozy, it feels like home, and they can’t help but relax

whumpee leaning on the table, eyes closed and breaths shaky, when a sudden fainting spell washes over them