Wilbur Soot's Guide To Torture

Part 1: Mental Torture

Well, last night was surely a shock. Being chloroformed has never been a pleasant experience, and this time was no exception. I turned my head up to look around. I was in a dimly lit room. It had a single torch above the table I was chained to. My legs were tethered against a metal chair and my wrists were handcuffed to a metal arch on the table. The room was super creepy and I really don't have the energy to deal with it. All I wanted was to sit down, have a drink, and watch a true crime show. Is that too much to ask for after a long week?

On one wall, the one I'm facing, there's a darker shadow of a human. Well, maybe not human. A hybrid of some kind. It flicks it's hair and I realize who it is. This room seems far too smallband my suit is too tight. It feels like the clothing is clinging to my skin in the hot, humid room. I push against the chair, attempting to get as far away from the figure as possible, causing some pain in my wrists where the chain is pulling against my hands. It's never a good sign to be alone in a room with the Blood God himself. I take a deep breath. I'm not having a panic attack right now. Not a good look for the president of Manberg. Not a good look for business man. I gather my nerves and look at the silhouette, hopefully in the eyes.

"Hey Techno. What're you doing here?" He snorts out a small amount of air. In Technoblade fashion, he doesn't say a word. It smells terrible in this room. "Where are we?" I ask him in disgust. 

"Pogtopia." I sigh, all tension from the threat of Techno gone. It's just those idiots I exiled. You know, I've only been chlorophormed about eight times. Six of those times have been Wilbur. I suppose it's seven now, given he's the most likely person. I deducted that the person was bigger than I was, so it immediately ruled out Tommy. In hindsight, the person was taller, not muscular, therefore ruling out Techno, who's 6'1. He and Wilbur may have been identical twins when they were born, but Wilbur grew far beyond Techno and Techno slowly became more pigmen-like. I don't think they ever really figured out why.

A door opens and light shines in, quickly blocked by a figure. They're wearing a trenchcoat with one sleeve rolled up, exposing bandages. Their hair is a wavy mess, most of it hidden beneath a beanie. They close the door and pull out a seat from under the table, across from me. 

"Good evening, Mr. President. Enjoying your stay?" If my wrists weren't handcuffed to the table, I would smack that smirk right off his face. Wilbur Soot is quite possibly the person I hate the most in this world, which is saying something. "I hope you had time to greet your guard, Techno." I put on the most sarcastic smile I can and turn to Techno.

"Yeah. We've been having a good time, Techno and I. Right?" There's no response from the piglin, as expected. I turn back to the human. "I'm having a wonderful time, Will."

"Good." He says through gritted teeth. "Then I suppose you won't mind getting to know each other better. Perhaps you'd like to stay for a bit? It gets lonely here, you know." His accent, while most would find sweet, is sour to me. I've been tricked by it too many times. Damn pretty boy. He gives me an arrogant grin. "Defenselessness looks good on you." I frown at him. He leans forward. The grin he wears would fit a jack-o'-lantern. "It suits you." I scowl at him.

"Why don't you untie me and we can see who's defenseless then. I may not have weapons, but I can sure as Prime beat you in a fistfight. You've always looked good with a bloody nose." Wilbur gives a laugh, failing to hide the nervousness behind it.

"Feisty as ever, sweetheart. But no thanks. Can't risk my life just to feel you on me." I roll my eyes, almost puking at the thought. Does everything he says to me have to be inherently sexual? It gets annoying. 

Techno rolls his eyes, clearly disgusted at his brother's comment. "Now, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." I shrug and lean back a bit in my chair.

"Not really." Wilbur is annoyed at the reply, as expected. "Let me guess. Going to kill me unless I give you the presidency? Good luck, lover boy. Over my dead body. Literally." I chuckle at the joke while Wilbur smiles.

"We won't kill you, Schlatt. No. We have something much different planned." Different, hm? What could he possibly do? "How well do you respond to torture?" I shrug. I've been tortured my fair share of times. No one knows that better than Will. In all, I didn't give up any information.

"Pretty well, I suppose."

"Good. Then I think I'll have some good fun with this." The Brit stands to leave. "Enjoy your stay, Schlatt." With that little comment, he leaves, Techno behind him. Immediately I deflate, all of the faked confidence from before gone in an instant.

I need a drink.