Sanctuary 038 Limitations Chamber

Sanctuary 038 Limitations Chamber could easily be called a torture room. It's located on the highest level of the Sanctuary, what was supposed to be only for storage. It is unkempt, with the ceiling dripping from the constant water hitting from the waterfall, and vines entering through the slots in the wooden door that leads to nothing but a ledge. The room smells ghastly, rust and mildew growing in every corner. A hard metal table and chair are in one corner of the room, the only place to sit that's relatively cleaner than the wet floor littered with dirt and bugs. Chains of various sizes hang from the walls all across the room, some just for hands, for legs, or, terribly enough, a head. Iron muzzles also hang on hooks near the wooden door, as well as rusty handcuffs. Most medieval torture devices thought to be long gone are all cramped into separate closet-like rooms, all designed to slowly kill whoever was thrown into it. The chamber got its name because it was used to "help" patients reduce the limitations of their powers. Although it still is used for this method, it is also a method of punishment much worse than the Cage. Along with the poison being injected into the patients, this so-called torture chamber is also used more frequently for making patients die from the pressure of their own powers. Only one patient has actually been killed here, for the President does not have enough supporters in her own Sanctuary to help get rid of them. This is why most patients are terrified of it, because even though they know they won't really perish, the torture is horrifying until the President decides it was enough for one day.

Emilia felt a pounding in her head, forcing her to wake up. She immediately groaned, blinking a few times to adjust to the strange orange lighting of the room. She became more aware, and realized she was in a chair. She looked down at her feet first, and yelped when a huge cockroach ran over her shoe. She tried to jump out of the chair but realized that something was pulling her down. She scanned the table and saw that only her right hand was attached to a rusty handcuff. "What the fuck?" she cursed, trying to pull her hand out of it but only scratching her wrist. She whipped her head around and saw Lyra, a wave of relief crashing over her. "Where the fuck are we?" she spat, cursing being her coping mechanism. She took in the rest of her surroundings and gasped at the different tools and... torture devices. She had learned about these in school as a child, since they were used only during medieval times and were made illegal because they were so inhumane. She thought she would never live to see any of them, but here they were, right in front of her eyes. She recognized a few of them that she saw pictures of before - a guillotine, a saw, a breast ripper. "Holy shit, holy shit!" she exclaimed, becoming flushed and trying to drag herself towards the rickety wooden door that they must have came in through.