White Room Torture Novels & Stories

'New idiots. — Understood, miss. She's in room L. — The rooms are like those used to interrogate people when police capture them; you can see every person they're torturing. 'They don't see you, but you see them.' The hallway is white, not the same with the rooms, which stand out with a beautiful red color as decoration. In some of them there are corpses; in others, cleaning is going on. — Open the door. — I tell one of my employees as we arrive at the room whose name doesn't matter at all.

This woman was really something else. I held her hand while she looked around in the underground passage. We came to a stop in front of the door, and I turned her to look at me. “You don’t have to do this, I can still find someone else.” I asked her one last time to make sure she was truly fine with it. “I want to.” Althaia said, looking determined to help. “This is not a normal room. We call it The Chamber of Torture and you will see all sorts of weapons and tools present.” I observed her facial expression but she gave a small nod, not showing any sign of discomfort.

I walked down the narrow passageway, past the holding cells, and towards the torture chamber. The torture chamber was a dark, damp, and dingy room with stone walls and a low ceiling. The room was dimly lit, with torches flickering in the corners. Rusty chains and shackles hung from the walls, and a large wooden table sat in the center of the room. The table was stained with blood and had various instruments of torture scattered around it.

ARLETTE’S POV Holy shit! The Red Room is enormous, and it isn’t a room painted in red, it’s a fucking torture room. I’ve barely been here an hour and I’m going to be punished? “Oh God!” I murmur as I look around the room, the chairs positioned in a way that if you lie down with your stomach, you ass will be lifted in the air and the person punishing you will be able to see everything below your waist. I wrap my arms around my chest, twisting my head away from Charlie, obviously still mad at her.

Lucas ignored him and stepped out by himself, even though his knees almost failed. Adrian saw. He said nothing. That silence made Lucas hate him less for one second, so Lucas hated the silence instead. They entered a private medical room beneath one of Adrian’s smaller buildings. Everything smelled clean and expensive. White lights. Glass walls. Steel trays. Lucas froze at the doorway. White walls. Gloved hands. A voice saying he must not remember. Adrian noticed at once. “We can use another room.” Lucas forced his feet forward. “No. I am tired of rooms deciding what I can survive.”

A question I must've asked her close to a thousand times already, and just like every other time, she remained silent. "Do we need to revisit the fun house?" Jace snarked, referring to the off-site torture building. Being as high up as we were in the FBI meant that not everything showed on the books, including having an unspecified facility guarded around the clock. This allowed us to use more intense techniques to convince a convict to speak. The building was designed to break a person. There were numerous chambers set up with things from nightmares. There was a room designed to pull out even your darkest of nightmares. Many have gone crazy from being in there after only a few minutes. The

He said in a cold and a dead serious tone as his Palm met with her ass cheek twice in a row spanking her heard which made her scream out loud as she burst into fresh tears. TORTURE ROOM Rania and Shay were screaming their hearts out with tears in their eyes, with blood all over their body as they looked weak and tired from the torture they’ve been going through. They were both stark naked as they were made to lie down flat iron table and tied on it. Rania and Shay’s scream filled the whole room, the torture continued for two hours and by the time they both fainted immediately. Catherine signaled one of the guards to bring the very cold water placed in the torture room with them forward,she p

VALENTINA After I agreed upon helping them, Agent Vitali lead me to the room which is right beside that interrogation room. He asked me to rest and he went to talk to the seniors or whatever. Where he has locked me this time is a plain room. White room. A white bed. White sheets. White floor. White attached door. This is unbelievable. I am beginning to despise white color. I sigh out and jog toward the bed before laying down over it. I have been unconscious for a whole day and when I woke up, I was already in that interrogation room, handcuffed to the table.

He stopped in front of her, lifting her average face with his fingers. “Do you know why this room is so empty?” he suddenly asked her. The maid could only shake her head. It did strike her as odd, but that was not something that really stuck in her mind as she was being chained to a wall and having her ankles thoroughly stabbed. In fact, the pain made it even harder to focus. “Our ways of torture are unique,” he explained. With two fingers, he poked her arms and sides. With a snap of his fingers, a wave of pain shooting through those specific points. It was as if there were thousands of poison needles shooting up those points, infecting her with toxic substances. Her vision went blurry, the

"But if I don't find any evidence now, surely my career will really be over. I cannot let that happen. I'll prove to them that I could also solve a case on my own." I looked around and there is nothing different here, perhaps aside from being a typical inpatient room. Although, I don't know who proposed the idea of using white rooms in most psychiatric asylums, I could clearly tell that white room torture are kind of outdated already… I could still see evidence of it in this room, however it is safe to say that there is no longer any visual and auditory deprivation. The senses are being given limited consideration, by using a glass door allowing sound to enter