How the Tables Turn

Phoenix flipped through the book he was holding between his hooves. It was his journal, where he kept track of his resistance training. Sometimes it became so extensive he wouldn’t remember what he did the night before, so he started a journal, so as to not end up repeating training that he didn’t need or that his body hadn’t already recovered from.

He returned to his most recent page, foggy memories of the previous night accompanying the words on the page, which were written shakily by his trembling hoof.

Day 1565

Phase 1: Rope Burn

The burns are in locations where they are not noticeable to the public eye. Training has proven successful – rope burns are painful, but ultimately no longer that bothersome. Being a more common method used by guards, tolerance to them will prove helpful.

Phase 2: Sleep Deprivation/Shock Therapy

Since these are both common methods of torture, and they are commonly lumped together by guards, I decided to do so as well. If I drifted off it meant receiving another jolt and bumping it up to a higher level.

Phoenix mentally reminded himself to burn this book when he got out.

This training has proven much less successful. Large amounts of sleep deprivation coupled with fear of electric shock result in sleep rejection and insomnia in the long run. Shock therapy has a good effect: the training must be repeated.

Phoenix stared at the last line. For years he had been trying to prevent that problem, and it never worked. He could not escape the effects of shock, despite his best efforts. He knew he had to face it when the guards were at him. It was no secret that that was his weakness, and the guards loved taking advantage of weaknesses. But he could not rid himself of the phobia that plagued him. He had dealt with it for years, and yet it still caused something inside him to tick.

However, now was not the time to be thinking about that. He still had to review his entry.

Phase 3: The Five Senses

It is said that when you blind yourself, your hearing will compensate for it. When you are deaf, your feeling will compensate for it. It’s like having a net to fall on. In the Dark Corridor, however, it’s more like a bed of nails. So, what better way to train the body to make the metaphor more literal? Tacks on a board, dead silence, and a blindfold.

I thought I knew pain before this. I thought pain had no more surprises left for me.

Well, surprise.

The extent of the pain had an interesting effect. It was painful at first, but after a few moments, it was disorienting, confusing. I felt the pain deaden over time, along with all of my feeling. My head became foggy, like I was falling asleep. It couldn’t have been a near-death experience. Torture can’t cause death unless you are shocked too hard or bleed too much. Well, I guess I had been shocked and I was bleeding. Neither was enough to kill me on their own, but together…

If anything, though, I probably just went into shock.

This should become a regular training process. I don’t know what happened, but I don’t like it, and if a guard finds out before I fix the problem, well, that’s just one more weakness hanging over my head.

Phase 4: Citric Acid

Dear Celestia, this won’t last much longer…

Phase 5: Fire and Ice

This will definitely raise a lot of questions from Ashes. I couldn’t get dry ice for the ice half of the training. I normally never can. But, fire resistance is at an all time high.

Phoenix was unaware of how shaky hoofwriting could get until now. Surely there was no phase six. If there was, he might have gone insane last night…

Pha

The writing stopped there. There were definitely plans for a stage six. What they were, he would never know, because his memories of last night’s occurrences ended there. Judging by the sloppiness of his writing, he had slipped into unconsciousness right then and passed out next to his book. But, if that’s what happened, then how did his equipment get put away? Nopony but him was there to clean up, and if somepony else saw that scene…

His mind flashed back to what the room had looked like last night. A tarp sitting on the floor. On top of it, a board covered in tacks and a considerable amount of a mixture of blood, citric acid, and vomit. A discarded blindfold. An unplugged generator.

It was a worse image than a Dark Corridor room after a long session.

He hadn’t found the strength to bring himself out of his house yet. Last night was way over the top, even by Phoenix’s standards. He still felt a throbbing pain in his back when he attempted to move at all. He wondered if Ashes was worried about him. He was normally up and by Ashes’ place long before this.

He winced, brought on by a combination of literal pain from the hangover he had from last night’s amount of adrenaline and the guilt he felt for making Ashes worry.