Warning: Story involves torture. Reader discretion is advised.
Soon the outside exercise part of the day was over and all the prisoners went back inside. All but one. Even the sun had abandoned him early. Winter this far north made sure most of the time would be night, and it was still early in the winter.
“You are not permitted to leave this place until you get rid of all the snow in here.” #143 looked hopelessly around the giant courtyard covered in snow. Then back at the shovel they'd given him. It wasn't even a snow shovel. “It's time for my dinner. Start working now,” the guard ordered, showing #143 his whip as a warning.
#143 whimpered as he began the never ending task of scooping snow into a wagon that he had to haul with him. Meanwhile the hose filled his “ice robe” with water and made sure he was always wet. The freezing night air whipped across his naked body as he worked to stay warm. If only a little.
To keep him alive, a pattern of 3 minutes of warm water followed by 10 minutes of cold water is repeated.
The snow days had just started.
The robe of ice had been a complete success and it was a popular attraction for both guards and prisoners alike. They'd kept the boy out there continuously all week and seemed to have found a perfect balance on how to treat him.
The warden looks down at the boy in the courtyard from his warm office. A guard had just tied him up for the night. Still outside, still constantly sprayed wet, still naked, the prisoner had his hands secured up in the air, tied to a tall poll so he could stand by and watch as the falling snow once more covered all he'd managed to clear that day. They'd just finished giving the prisoner his evening ice water enema and whipping session before leaving him there in the freezing wind to sleep.
The warden's most trusted entered the warm office and removed his thick winter coat. He was the guard in charge of prisoner #143. Time for his weekly rapport.
“Prisoner 143 has cleaned up half the snow piled up on the yard. Lately it snows every day and 143 is locked up outside before he gets to finish with the snow. However, after the night, the snow piles up again.”
The guard continued, “For meals, he only eats a sludge of semen mixed with vitamins. Without warming his body his arms and legs grow cold and become numb. We don't give him a bit of meat or starch to prevent him from gaining muscle. He gets skinnier and skinnier, using his thin arms for the heavy physical labor, forcing him to endure it. I think we've just about found the right nutritional balance to keep him just barely strong enough to keep working.”
“With the water coming from the ice robe also not stopping, he has been forbidden to touch any cloth, not giving him a chance to dry his skin.”
“Every time hypothermia occurs, it paralyzes his muscles. We then send warm water through the pipes. After he regains consciousness the ten minutes cold, three minute warm cycle continues. Even when resting or sleeping he isn't given permission to get indoors through the winter.”
“Well done,” the warden commended. “I trust you'll get that delicate balance just right. I'll be exciting seeing how he reacts when winter truly gets under way.”
“The body alterations the machine did on him sure helped too,” the guard said. “He may feel just as cold, but his body is incredibly resilient to the cold.”
“Quite right. We need to continue to see what other limits we can push on him. Make sure he doesn't get a full night's rest.”