Un Souvenir d'Événements

The Room of A Thousand Tortures

The palace had now been under construction for a little over two years as October fell again, and in those two years, I had met and been able to speak with Erik three, perhaps four times. I would catch fleeting glances of him in my house at times, but as for proper meetings, they were few and far between. The palace would be finished by eighteen forty eight, but it seemed that the genius behind it wouldn't be there to see it happen.

Only now had the new torture chamber opened, and I was invited- though it was more of a demand than an offer- to attend its opening. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it. I'd had to attend a few executions, though usually I was lucky and would be elsewhere in the world when they happened. But for the past few years I hadn't left Persia, and as a result, I was required to be attend. I arrived and met with the Shah who led me inside.

The room I could see before me was of hexagonal design. Each wall consisted of a large, clean mirror, though there appeared to be no door or entrance to it anywhere. It was completely enclosed but that only added to the illusion that it created.

Erik had told me that this room was a work of art, and I knew he wasn't keen on it being used for these reasons, but he'd had no choice in the matter. But now I could see his work, I had to agree with him.

It was not furnished in any way apart from a large tree that had been constructed out of iron; I had mistaken for a real one for a few seconds as it was so exquisitely crafted and painted to look realistic, though yet again, it was there to aid in the illusion, for when looking into any of the mirrors that lined the room floor to ceiling, the tree was reflected a indefinitely, creating the impression of a forest. On this tree however was something else, the only other piece of 'furnishing' in this room of mirrors. A very fine length of rope was hanging from one of the iron branches. I didn't have to ponder over what its purpose was.

For a while, I had to try to remind myself of what I was looking at, as even though I wasn't in the room myself, I couldn't see anything but the illusion, it was incredibly frustrating.

I realised that I was stood behind one of these mirrors. It was made in such a way that I could look into the room without being seen by the occupant inside. On large rollers, elaborate and yet again exquisite scenes had been painted on in painstaking detail so that the illusion of being in a vast forest or desolate desert.

The ceiling above was lit and had the capability of being heated so that the room with its barren floor and reflective mirrors would warm the room to temperatures to match the settings shown. Indeed, it was ingenious! I knew its creator would be proud of this work of art, but whether or not he would be proud of its use would be another matter entirely.

I stood beside the Shah, peering into this miraculous room anxiously as a man was pushed inside, from where I'm not quite sure, as when I looked around, I couldn't see any door that had opened.

The man looked around and quickly became disoriented as the mirrors reflected hundreds of rooms around him and every way he turned looked the same. He began to walk though ended up colliding with one of the mirrors so he held his arms out in front of him as he tried to navigate his way around the room, but ended up going in circles.

Soon it became apparent that his hands were burning as he touched the glass as the heat in the room continued to rise. He was sweating profusely, both from the heat but also from fear as he began to panic as he couldn't escape and he continued to desperately look for the way he'd entered into this miraculous room of death.

As the heat increased, the scenes changed and atmospheric noises began to sound. I could only stand and watch in awe as this scene of a desert came to life before my eyes. I wasn't even stood in the room yet I was still fooled by the illusion, I couldn't work out how the noises were created or where they came from. But despite the noises of lions and insects that frightened the poor man to death, the worst torture by far was the sound of water.