The torturer of the Flaming Bloody Organs Sect was having a terrible day. This was not abnormal in and of itself, for he was a morose person by nature, prone to see the worst in the world, and twitchy from his time spent in the demonic sect. What was abnormal was that his victim was having a better day than he was.
The girl, Yue, had looked a little nervous when the higher-ups had brought her in, and tasked him to torture her until she spilled whatever secrets she still held. But while he was setting up the torture equipment she must have done or ingested something, for when he came back in the room her form was peaceful and her face radiated a quiet joy. She stared him clear in the eyes, her gaze warm but unrelenting. “So, what will we do first today?”
A twinge of sweat rolled unwillingly down his skin, dry lips cracked as he licked them. “The rack, we’ll start with the rack.”
Start with the rack. It was always a good idea, normally. The sight as he led them into the dark and filthy basement, the rack with the carefully cultivated blood stains on it, the burbling smoke rising from lanterns hung on creaking chains, all combined to wear down the mental fortress of the victim, even before the rack did its work. Once you started with the rack, you rarely had to go far. In this case, however, it didn’t go anywhere - she sighed in visible pleasure, then complimented him on having discovered a viable alternative to acupuncture. Not only did an hour’s stretching fail to distress her, but she became actively more relaxed the longer it went on, her form going from slightly limpid to a downright ooze.
Eventually, he desisted. The sight of the horrific rack coupled with the sounds of happiness wasn’t simply ineffective - in its contrast, it was downright comical.
He tried to squash the worries in his mind. Many weren’t responsive to one torture, and then were broken by another. He’d try waterboarding next. The terrifying room, its walls pulsing with statues of souls broken and dead, coupled with the feeling of descending underwater created a hellish sense in the victim, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to break down entirely before the torment even started.
He laid her out, then began filling the bucket. She watched him idly. “Can you please blow on it?”
He froze. “Blow on it?”
“Yes. The immortal Yu Tzu would place a bowl of water between his two elbows and blow upon it. He would use this water for medicinal purposes, giving it to the patient to drink if the disease was external and washing him with it if it was external. The ancient scrolls affirm, ‘in every case the cure was instantaneous.’ I’m not sick, but one should never miss an opportunity when it presents itself.”
“You… you are aware that this is torture, yes?”
“Aware? No. I know, of course, that you’re intending to torture me, but just because we’re sharing the experience does not mean we’re sharing the interpretation of the experience. So you say water cure; I say, water cure.”
The torturer had no response, not that Yue was expecting any, for in her state of relaxation she'd started to fall asleep. She yawned. "Whenever you're ready, you can begin the hydrotherapy. In the interim I'll take a small nap."
Needless to say, the water torture wasn't effective either.
The whip and the brand were equally ineffective (although potentially distressing enough to our readers that I’ve removed any description of them ~ The Editor), and his worries bloomed from a small discordant note to a full blown Symphony of Despair. As she continued crooning over the “sauna treatment” she had just received gratis, a small sob involuntarily escaped his lips.
She twisted her chains with surprising grace, and patted him on the head.
"There there. It's not your fault that the torture sessions are so relaxing and meditative."
"Relaxing? Meditative?”
“Then there was the dance instruction, which isn’t one of my usual hobbies, but when one’s on vacation, that’s the time to learn.”
“Dance instruction?! Do you mean the whipping? What sort of person confuses whipping with dance instruction?!”
“Wait, you weren’t focusing on my meridians intentionally?”
“Well, I was, but. . .”
“See? So you were helping me train my meridians, and I was doing so by moving in specified patterns. Sounds like dance training to me.”
The torturer decided not to debate the point. She was clearly crazy. "Okay, but when I put you in the iron maiden, you thanked me for making sure that your rest didn’t ruin your concentration!”
“Whether one is in heaven or hell, kensho is always possible.”
“Then, when I had the iron maiden begin moving, you made little ‘wheee’ noises!”
“It was just like surfing. I think. I’ve never been surfing.”
The torturer growled in frustration, then placed his hands together, wishing he possessed a tenth of the ability to enter samadhi that she did. "Enough. Out of respect to your sex and your civilian status, I've confined myself to external tortures so far, but no more. We'll have fun with the fish knife next."
"My sex? But I'm still a virgin."
The torturer shook his head in disgust and went to get the fish knife. When he returned Yue had positioned herself under the piddly window, and was vainly trying to tan herself. Her failure hadn’t seemed to disrupt her equanimity - quite to the contrary, she was even more at peace, her body practically dripping over the stone bench.
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He raised the knife menacingly. “It’s time.”
Yue glanced up at the torturer, unconcerned, and returned to tanning herself through the tiny window bars. The man looked at Yue incredulously. "How can you be so undistressed? I just threatened to skin you with a fish knife."
Without moving her limpid form, she handed the torturer a card. He grabbed it angrily, and read the contents.
The Noodle Shop Repair Sect
Restaurants Repaired
Orphanages Fireproofed
Damsels Undistressed
Puppies Unkicked
Interested in our offers? Contact us today
through the Ministry for Travel or local offices!
"I’ll admit, I was a little disappointed when I discovered the class was about instantaneously attaining a tranquil mind no matter the troubles assailing you. I assumed it would just be another one of those 'learn basic self-defence so you won't need a man to save you.’ But man, he wasn’t lying about the benefits of the class. I'm feeling utterly relaxed and undistressed right now. Really, they more than amply fulfilled the promise on the card - and his dictum, ‘if you’re secure in body, but insecure in mind, then you’ll always be a damsel in distress.’" She oozed further, at one with the uncomfortable stone bench.
"So… then you didn't learn basic self-defence?" It was a dumb reply, he knew, but it was the only thing that came to mind.
"No, though I did learn how to break out of handcuffs and then do a flying drop kick while prone."
"Oh, reall-" before the torturer could finish his sentence, there was a small click, the sound of a woman going HIYA!, and then a meaty thud.
The red glow of sunset was stretching its rubious fingers through the bars when he awoke. His head felt groggy, and rang with bells. It took him a moment to figure out where he was, at which time he panicked and leapt up.
“Are you awake yet?” His victim was free, and examining a particularly nasty looking device with ambiguous intent. She eyed him meaningfully.
“Ah… uh… ah…”
“So, what does this do?” The blood drained from the torturer’s face, his lips trying to reply only for mere noises to flit from their slips. Yue lifted up a mass of screws affixed to a serrated blade.
“And this one?” The torturer knew what was coming. He fell back in a dead faint.
He woke up faster this time, the light of the moon only just beginning to shine down from heaven. His head was now clear of ringing noises; they had transferred to the cell door, as someone began unlocking it. Yue idly paused in the middle of a yoga pose.
“Heya, Erh. Haven’t heard from ya in a while, so I brought you and the plaything some food for- hey, what are you doing out of bars!”
Once more there was a HIYA!, then a meaty thud, then silence.
The silence was broken by noises of someone chowing down. “This may be the finest stale, mouldy bread I’ve ever eaten. As it happens, I’ve never before had any stale, mouldy bread, but then I’ve never enjoyed the experience of being tortured before.”
Erh, the torturer, groaned. “If you’re not going to torture me, why are you still here?”
“And end my vacation early?” Her tone was affronted.
“Why would I do that, when I’m having so much fu-woah! Is that genuine Zhai era tilework on the walls?” She exited to the cell to admire the dungeon architecture.
“Yes, this fortress was built during the Zhai era. Wait, that’s what drew your attention?”
“Of course. One doesn’t see this quality of tiles often today. Too many view architecture as a lesser science, Hong says, unfitting of the status accorded to superior arts like painting or poetry. Ruins the atmosphere of the noodle shop when you’re eating in a structure which stands, and does nothing else.” She wandered down the hall, occasionally adjusting the position of random objects, her attitude unconcerned but strangely purposive.
“In the name of the Blazing Blue Baboon, you even have detailed ceiling carvings. Those were only made during the reign of Wu the Yeren-Obsessed, who insisted on having yeren carved on all of his ceilings. Few of those were made, on account of his having vanished early in his reign while hunting yeren in the woods, and fewer still are preserved, on account of the majority having been installed in yeren-watching cabins.”
Erh just sat there, absorbing this scintillating lesson on art history from the woman he was supposed to be torturing.
Her head poked back around the door. “Coming?”
Erh considered his course of action. On the one hand, she probably wouldn’t do anything to him if he said no, and joining her was a decidedly dangerous proposition. On the other hand, he’d all but certainly be killed for letting her escape, and after today he wasn’t sure he had the capacity to torture again - he’d always find her grinning, peaceful face gazing up at him, even as it was lit by the screams of some unfortunate.
So he followed her out the door.
They wandered down the hallway, Yue commenting on the history of the various art pieces while moving bits and bobs about, and the torturer trying to forget that today was happening. Suddenly, she stopped. "Where does that door lead?"
"That? Oh, that's the storage room, where we keep people's effects before processing."
As they were talking a guard left the storage room, whistling, baton swinging from his hip.
“Oh, hey Erh, was wondering where you went to- eh! What are you doing he-”
“HIYA!”
Thud.
The latest problem dealt with, the two entered the storage room, Yue admiring the various objects on display, and the torturer sweating as he looked at the chart for the rotation of the guards.
“Hmmm. Quite the nice collection of swords you have here. And is that a bronze sculpture of a daikon radish?”
“I still don’t know why that barbarian was carrying it around with him.”
She grabbed several dozen small objects, tucking them into her pockets, moved several objects around the room, and then finally zoomed in on the most important item in the room - a hand drum.
“Oh man, to think you guys would have drums. Best. Vacation. Ever.”
“We got them from a passing bard. Funny fellow; screamed that he’d tell us everything before the torture began, then escaped out the backroom. Ended up telling us nothing, but he was most insistent we keep the drums.”
Tsh tsh badadada tsh tsh.
“Yes, just like that.”
Tsh bada bada tsh bada.
“Yes… Can we leave now? I’d prefer as few of my employers see us leave as possible.”
“Tsk. You’re on vacation with me now; relax a little,” Yue muttered, walking down the hall, drumming on her drums, and continuing to put strange objects down in highly specific locations.
“I still don’t understand how you’re so calm.”
“Well, I suppose you could call me a Damsel in Destress.” Ba Dum-tsh.