White Room Torture Novels & Stories

- I didn't killed them earlier but I shot all their legs and their hands so that they won't run nor fights against my men. I walked towards the blue room which we held the torture for people who interferes on our way. We also have a red room for meetings. Black room for weapons and white room for my personal space. I open the door and walked towards them as I face them, they really look battered, I guess my men had their fill. I can't even recognize their faces, they are all swollen and still bleeding. "Have they said anything?" I asked Nikolai while I'm looking at them, they look pitiful.

It was an electric current passing through me killing me but yet I was still alive. I shouted in pain but Greg didn't stop. This torture went on for three good hours straight before they tossed me back to the white room. I don't know how many days that I was in this room but as the days went on Greg kept on changing the torture routine. The worst had been when they injected something in me that made me hallucinate that everyone was dead. It was painful and depressing but I was glad Greg was getting frustrated since I wasn't giving him satisfaction to all the torture.

Revealing a new chamber pulsing with red light. And in the center of the chamber… A heartbeat. Not metaphorical. Literal. A massive, suspended organ pulsing with veins of black and blue, thumping slow and heavy shaking the walls with every beat. Lola’s blood went cold. “Oh my God…” she whispered. Jayden stared, stunned. “That’s impossible.” Mirror-Jayden’s fading echo whispered through the corridor: “Not everything in the Doom Room is human. Some things… are older.” The heartbeat thudded harder.

Still there is no sign of her. Making my way up to the top floor things become a little more quiet and I realise the rooms have closed doors but there are viewing windows into them. I pause at the first room. There are two people only in this one, the woman is strapped to a large cross, ropes binding her breasts making them swell as a masked man takes a cropper and periodically strikes them making her cry out with a pleasured pain. I see the slight trails of blood running from her neck. This floor is designed for kink.

I ordered, “I have somewhere to be.” As they dragged her in, she resisted and continued to throw insults at me. I would deal with Catalina once I've cleared my mind. The dark room I now stood in was located in a secret room at my club. This room was made especially for offenders and to enforce discipline. The air reeked of sweat, decay, and the faint scent of fresh human blood. Flickering fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting an eerie glow on the arsenal of my tools for torture. Whips, chains, knives, and cat o' nine tails coil like snakes, ready to strike.

I cut the link and went out. The operating room was on the last floor where the CCTV and some other tech stuff were kept. Xavier was the tech master so he was in charge of the room. There were other rooms in the house. There was the torture room where we tortured criminals,the training room where we train,the storage room and some other rooms. I made a mental note to warn Tasha not to ever go into the Torturing room. She wouldn't have the stomach to see the hell that was there. “What's up?” I asked Connor as I entered.

Never would I ever think that Marcus was involved in Masochism. Every kind of torture materials were lined up neatly in sections at the side of the room. A four poster bed with pillars at each end stood in the middle of the room, followed by closets, wooden shelves filled with retraining cuffs, whips, masks, and so many other things I couldn’t even identify. Marcus stood behind me, and I could swear he was holding his breath. It felt like a nightmare and I really wanted to wake up and see that it was all over. “How long… have, uhmm, you been doing this?” I asked, trying to find my voice.

I had hoped my size would go in my favour, and once I got some of my strength back, I would be able to swing the bolt loose, but as my eyes trained in the best they could on the bolt, I realised there was no getting free of those fuckers. Scanning the room, I couldn't help but admire my surroundings. Clean white walls that stunk of blood and death, stripped of any signs of life, no obvious windows or doors, which I imagined made lesser men nervous, not knowing where the enemy was coming from. In the centre of the room stood a large glass cabinet holding what could only be described as my favourite kind of toy chest. Tools, I had no doubt, would be used to torture me soon enough.

(Warning: Slight Gory content ahead) SOMEWHERE A ROOM The room was pure white, not even a dent could be seen but unfortunately, this saintly picturesque couldn’t cover the tension in the air. A man could be seen, his limbs chained on the medium sized bed that was white just like the rest of the room. Beside the bed was a table filled with various tools meant solely for torturing a human body. The man that was chained shivered. He tried to wriggle his limbs out of the chain but to no avail. He wanted to scream for help but he couldn’t as his tongue had been cut off and his lips, sewn together.

inside her womb throb with a sickening, mechanical rhythm. Dante stood between her and the glass wall of the docking bay, his real-world body trembling with a mixture of withdrawal and a feral, protective instinct. The "White Room" was glitching. For a split second, the clinical walls would vanish, replaced by the damp, moss-covered stones of the Venetian cellar. The scent of disinfectant fought with the smell of rotting lilies.