Solitary Confinement - Tumblr Posts

Pepper, Tony, Peter, Morgan, and May go out for a nice family dinner, but then disaster strikes. The owner of the restaurant tranquilized them. When they wake up, Tony panics as he realizes that both of his kids are missing. His kids had been taken by an unknown suspect, and he was terrified.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my plot.

@whumptober2021

journal / solitary confinement / make it stop (like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon)

They let her have a pencil and a pad of paper. As if she wasn't at risk of stabbing herself with the sharpened tip. It confused her. Weren't people in solitary confinement considered a threat to themselves and others? Yet they offered her a weapon - the pen, mightier than the sword, easily concealed and just as lethal when wielded with accuracy and force.

A pencil was just as dangerous as a pen. And she would be ruthless with either in her hand. Even the stack of paper could be used against her enemies or against herself. Crumpled up and stuffed down a throat. Or perhaps offering the death of a thousand cuts - paper cuts, that is.

Yet here she was, separated from the rest of her squadron, locked up on her own with only a pencil and a pad of paper.

She ignored the objects for days. As an only child, she was no stranger to loneliness. Born a military brat, her parents had been busy all her young life and moved her from base to base as their skills were demanding first in one spot and then another. She never made friends. But she did learn a host of fighting styles and self defense techniques.

And then in due time she joined the very service that resulted in the deaths of her parents. Life was hard, life in war times was harder. She'd thought it fate that brought her to Titan for the second war - the very place her parents had met their end.

And she fell in love. Hopelessly enthralled with a man for the first time in her life. An affection somehow reciprocated. Their time together was brief but made all the sweeter by the impermanence of their affair. They made the most of each and every moment they could steal away together.

In a world of sandstorms and trench warfare, they found a guiding light within each other. And when the illness swept through the camp, they clung closer than ever to each other. Fellow soldiers disappeared into the medical bay for testing, or vanished entirely into the dust beyond the boundaries they'd established against the enemy.

Not that anyone really knew who the enemy was. Ganymede forces? Venusian armies making a play for the moon? There were so many contenders, so much controversy. And the mysterious sickness running rampant through the barracks.

Was that why she was being kept alone now? Was she somehow contagious?

Her thoughts began to spiral after a week - or was it longer? It was impossible to tell. There were no windows. There were no set meals, just rations appearing whenever she fell into a troubled sleep.

There was just the pencil and the pad of paper.

Eventually she began to write just to see words in the world again. Language was important. Communication was crucial. She had no one to talk to so she had to maintain her mental grip somehow.

Some days she even tried her hand at drawing. Long thick hair, strictly against regulation. Dark eyes in a handsome face. Lips she longed to kiss once again.

Was he still alive? Had he succumbed to the virus?

Was she still alive? Or was she in some sort of purgatory?

There were no answers. No sounds made it through the thick walls of her prison cell. No one ever came to the door when she was conscious. She was alone in the room. No one there but the walls around her, the ceiling above her, and the floor below. Her safe little box where she was the only thing in existence.

Days passed, nights passed, she had no concept of time.

One day she awoke to find herself surrounded by butterflies. Thousands and thousands of silently flapping wings. They were innumerable. She couldn't understand why she was unable to touch them when she reached out. Why she couldn't hear the sound of their fluttering.

They flitted to and fro in her vision for hours or days or longer.

They were all she could see. Were they even real? Had she gone mad?

They were in the room when she woke and when she fell asleep. Beautiful creatures but horrible company. And eventually she couldn't stand it anymore.

The silence of her cell. The aching loneliness of this endless solitude. The presence of the butterflies.

Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop!!

And then she awoke to find herself in the infirmary of a transport ship. Voices speaking all around her. Kind eyes regarding her from behind masks covering noses and mouths.

There were no butterflies.

She was on her way home to Mars, she was told. The war was apparently over. Her service had been appreciated. No, the rest of her squadron was not there on the ship. No, there were not other soldiers either. No, there had never been a man on file by the name of Vincent.

Bewildered and apparently betrayed by her own mind - or whatever chemical warfare she'd supposedly been victim to - she was left back on Mars with more questions than answers. Cut loose from the military, they offered her a glowing reference and sent her on her way.

@febuwhump prompt: solitary confinement

***

He was enclosed in darkness. Trapped in a cushioned solitude that offers almost no room for movement. It is a worse confinement than the cage in the laboratory.

Well.

It is a smaller space, certainly. Less fresh air and no visibility which made the chaotic tumbling of his prison very confusing and very distressing. On the bright side, there are no injections. There was no monitor hooked up to his head. There are no lab coat wearing emotion-less employees scratching down information on notepads or inputting data into computer terminals.

There had been such a commotion in the night. He still wasn't sure what had happened... a gas had been released. He knew that because the air had taken on a cloying quality that made his nose twitch and had eventually tugged him into a state of unconscious.

When he awoke, it was to discover this new frightening form of solitary confinement.

It had been devastating enough to be taken from his mother and the others like him. To be chosen from his siblings for a dubious future just because he apparently seemed more cognizant than the others. How he wished now that he had not given off some appeal to these scientists.

It had been lonely, so lonely, in the lab. Hearing the ruckus of other animals - not canines like himself but all sorts of creature. At first it was nonsense. Shrieks and wails, howls and hissing. A lot of hoof stamping and wing flapping and attempts at accosting the coat-wearers whenever cages were opened and testing was conducted.

All of the animals had been kept separate, of course. Able to see one another and hear one another but not to interact physically. No cuddling up for shared warmth, no sniffing or licking or playing at all.

But one day he realized he could understand the others - some of them at least. And it seemed as if they could understand his yips and whines as well.

It lessened the loneliness a tad.

For a social creature like the dog he was... it wasn't enough. Even the times he was picked up and put on a medical exam table or strapped to a board to be put through a scanning machine... those weren't enough interactions to satisfy his desperate need to connect. His inherent desire for petting and to be able to snuggle like he had with his family before he was taken.

Sometimes he would shake from the despair of missing them so much. His mother, with her soft milky scent. His siblings with their rough-and-tumble play and their fast heartbeats a rhythm of familiar comfort and the gentle heat they exuded from their little bodies when they all lay together in a happy little pile.

Being cooped up was slowly destroying him. Even as his intellect grew, his energy began to drain. He was morose, his spirit flagging. The lab was no place for pups, no place for any of the unfortunate animals trapped inside those white brick walls.

But was this any better? Bonked back and forth within this little cage - some form of transportation unit? Being conveyed somewhere but by whom? For what purpose? Had he been rescued by one of the protesters they could sometimes hear shouting beyond the building? Had he been stolen by a competing team of scientists, the ones the lab coat wearers whispered about in uncertain tones?

It was a new type of hell. Being in this small space... being in the dark in so many ways. There were moments where he feared he might suffocate from a lack of new air. It didn't help that he couldn't stop panting from fear.

He was alone. He was lost. He was terrified.

He had to try and calm down. To think ahead and plan for what to do next. His prison would be opened at some point - that was inevitable. He would not be confined forever and when the brightness of the outside world peeked in on his trapped form... he would need to be ready to take stock of the situation.

Fight or flight, these were the responses a typical creature - even human - would jump to. But Ein refused to be guided blindly down either of those paths. He would take his time, at least at first, and ascertain his surroundings. Take stock of the life forms in his immediate vicinity to determine which were friend and which were foe. He would need to be smart to stay one paw ahead of the enemy.

He had to calm down. Relax his muscles so he could leap into action when it was necessary. Strain his ears to hear as much of the world around him as possible.

This was only temporary. This cage would release him into freedom... and from there? Who knew...

You ever been in the hole, brother?

Inmate.... disobey the rules and you're in the hole.

Effects of Solitary Confinement/Captivity

For all of you writers out there, it’s important to fully understand the tropes/ideas that you’re writing about. Specifically, solitary confinement is a commonly used whump trope that has many more psychological effects than we expect. Not all of these effects apply to prolonged captivity, but many of them do.

Beyond 15 days, solitary confinement usually causes severe psychological harm.

These effects are more powerful among adolescents because the brain is still developing.

Anxiety/Obsessions

Because of the limited activities prisoners are allowed (being inside room, going to the bathroom, showering, sleeping), they often develop intense obsessions for specific things. Some obsess over cleanliness, hygiene, exercise, self-care, while others obsess over self-mutilation, hallucinations, or a particular object. Anxiety can also develop concerning social interactions, hallucinations, psychosis, and soon victims lose the ability to tell the difference between reality and fantasy.

Decreased Life Expectancy

Due to lack of exercise and high stress, there is a higher risk of hypertension, heart disease, arthritis, diabetes in victims of prolonged captivity.

Depression

Emotional blunting (lack of emotion) due to loss of social contact and activities often leads to depression. Forced loss of initiation of activities/ideas/interactions combined with a sense of hopelessness about their situation leads to this state, too.

Difficulty Thinking/Memory/Concentration

Victims of solitary confinement or prolonged captivity don’t have to think. They don’t have the luxury of practicing and improving upon their mental abilities. Without mental stimulation, the brain deteriorates, leading to significant drops in thinking, memory, and concentration capabilities.

Disorientation in Time and Space

After extensive periods of time without a clock or without a variety of activities to divide time into manageable segments, victims often are unable to tell how much time has passed. They also can hallucinate distortions of space, or walls closing in on them.

Hallucinations of All Senses

Without the ability to see in far distances, vision fades. Also, when the victim’s surroundings don’t change (especially when captivity is in grey/black/white areas), our eyes can lose some ability to see color. Once outside of captivity, colorful surroundings can fade to grey. Also, victims often have intense hallucinations of sounds/smells/sights/feelings because they are perpetually feeling nothing, so their brain makes up anything it can.

Higher Rates of Harm (Self and Others)

Due to the violent ideation, suicidal ideation, and an inability to experience external stimuli, self-harm and violent actions are common amongst victims, specifically when in captivity. Inabililty to feel (due to emotional blunting) leads to a persistent, ever-growing desire to feel something, and many find that ability to feel through committing violent acts.

Hypersensitivity to External Stimuli

Victims often have a complete lack of external stimuli, other than that created by the prison staff, which is rare. Especially when external stimuli is commonly associated with pain (harm by prison guards, captors), hypersensitivity to external stimuli is common among victims. Long periods of time without any stimuli leads to overinflated terror of stimuli in general, as well as increased sensitivity to it.

Inability to Organize Daily Lives

Because victims’ lives are completely controlled by outside forces (prison guards, captors), their brain begins to rely on those forces to organize their lives. Once pushed out of this systematic organization, they often lose the ability to do it themselves and develop chronic lethargy or apathy in which they spend extensive periods of time without doing anything. Sometimes, they stop behaving altogether.

Insomnia

Insomnia is often caused by the lack of external change of the victim’s environment. Because victims cannot often tell day from night or one hour from another, they are in a constant state of time-related confusion, leading to an inability to sleep for a normal period of time. As sleeping is one of the things they can control while in captivity, it can become a sort of coping mechanism to rely on to escape from their outside world, but they often struggle to sleep for long periods of time due to this inability to discern time periods.

Loss of Social Initiation

When confronted with social situations, victims generally avoid initiating any social contact, whether it be physical, verbal, or nonverbal. This is partially due to a lack of previous social contact (other than prison guards), which leads to a sense of anxiety around all social interaction because they have so little of it. Also, the loss of ability to organize their own lives can contribute to this.

Overt Paranoia

Extreme paranoia is common amongst victims of prolonged captivity, especially when the victim experiences repetitive, severe harm. Combined with an inability to know what time it is, the victim is on constant high alert for any source of possible harm, meaning paranoia can develop with anything they associate with harm, whether it be noises, objects, or sights.

Poor Impulse/Emotion Control

Specifically fear and rage, victims often suffer from an inability to control their emotions and the behavior caused by any emotions they experience. Because they have so little social contact, any social experience they do have is often fueled by hours and hours of pent-up rage, fear, or anxiety. These suppressed feelings explode during social interactions, leading to acts of violence or panic attacks during these experiences.

Psychosis

The symptom of psychosis is often related to the hallucinations that victims experience when in solitary confinement. Due to a constant state of being alone, they tend to hallucinate social interactions with other people, voices, and feelings, leading to a state of disconnect from reality.

Suicidal Ideation

As well as violent ideation (towards others, especially captors/guards), suicidal ideation is relatively common amongst victims because they are isolated in their minds, forced to fantasize about ways to escape their captivity. These fantasies often involve killing the guards or killing themselves. These fantasies often have more violent tendencies due to the withheld rage/fear they experience.

If you’d like any other research-based explanations of any other whump tropes or writing tropes, just ask!

Sources:

What Does Solitary Confinement Do To Your Mind?

Solitary Confinement: Torture in US Prisons

Solitary FAQs

Why Solitary Confinement Is The Worst Kind of Psychological Torture

Solitary Confinement FAQs

I’m Still In That Box: 23 Years In Solitary Confinement

Solitary Confinement Facts