Unrivaled pt. 3

He was startled awake by a rude buzzer and a voice from a speaker announcing “10 minutes until scheduled activities”. The clock said 06:20. He had been asleep for 12 hours, he realized. No one had given him a schedule, but he assumed he would have to be dressed. He got up and made his way to the pile of clothes he had been handed the day before, hoping they had dried. Looking at his body he could see that it looked much more like it used to, except his veins were larger than they had ever been and popped as if he just had been doing push ups. “So that’s what they changed yesterday”, he thought. He quickly formed a plan of resistance. He would stay calm and just follow all commands well enough to not get a new punishment, but doing as little as possible to pass them. Hopefully then he could get through this with the the least amount damage. Sure, he would bulk up more than he would like, but how often do guys complain about their muscles sticking around for too long?

At 06:30 the door opened and someone who introduced himself as Jon carried in a tray with breakfast. He looked like a 30-something gym-bro, and explained that he would introduce Trevor to his daily routine. He handed over some sort of smart watch and told Trevor to wear it at all times outside of the cell. It would display the day’s schedule on the screen, while at the same time record his data like temperature and pulse. Trevor quickly cleared the bowl of yogurt with fruit and crunchy things, and a side of pills. He then played with the watch while waiting for Jon to come back. There wasn’t much he could do with the watch, but he could scroll through the next couple of days schedule. He didn’t understand almost any of the directions or locations.

At 07:00 Jon returned and showed Trevor the main gym area. They started out slow, with Trevor spending an hour walking on a treadmill. Then Jon took him on an actual tour, introducing the parts of the facility that he had access to during the scheduled hours, introducing the trainers present that day, introducing the schedule he was required to follow, and then started working on the exercises according to the schedule. It was all focused on how to perform every exercise perfectly, with almost no weights. A system of cameras throughout the large gym constantly recorded his movements, and Jon got immediate feedback on a tablet on how Trevor’s form needed adjustments. Although Trevor had to perform the same exercises over and over to get them right, having already spent a lot of time in the gym building strength for his dancing, he had no problem enduring. There wasn’t much time to be social with the other inmates. He basically had PT time all day, but he did get to talk to them over lunch. They came in all ages and sizes, and they were all genuinely happy with how they were treated and the results they saw with their bodies.

As Trevor got familiar with the staff, the equipment, the exercises and the daily procedures over the following days, he started to get into a routine. Wake up, lights out, shower and meal times were the same every day. The activities in between however looked almost random to Trevor. No set time of day for cardio or for strength, no specific leg day or arms day or push day, and certainly no rest day. Despite doing his best to not go full out, he was exhausted every evening and slept all 10 hours per night. Breakfast and dinner were served in his cell room, and he quickly became bored with the time between dinner and lights out. The TV only had a blend of sports and health programs, but even that was less boring than just waiting for the lights to go out.

It had almost been a week when Monday morning came, and the first scheduled item was “Progress assessment”. He was back in Mr. Thompson’s office, hoping it would turn out better than the last time. Mr. Thompson’s face told him that wasn’t likely.

- I am so disappointed in you. You’ve been quite dishonest, haven’t you?
- What?
- If we combine your biomechanics model with your actual results and look at your pulse, blood oxygenation and posture when you exercise supposedly to failure, we can clearly see inconsistent results. Inconsistent for someone who would do his best, that is.

Trevor didn’t know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut.

- Is it true that you have been holding back, despite being clearly instructed to push yourself, so we can ascertain your limits?
- Yes… Sir…
- And at no point did you think that falsifying the results would be harmful to you? That it would waste time and resources? That it could put others in danger?
- No, sir.

He truly hadn’t thought of any side effects of not following instructions. Had they now overdosed him since they didn’t get the response they expected. Trevor didn’t know what to expect, and Mr. Thompson didn’t show any hint of what was coming next. He stood up and put his hand reassuring on Trevor’s shoulder.

- There now. I know this is all very new and bewildering for you, but let’s not make a big deal out of it. Just make a real effort from now on, and we can move past this with minimal punishment. Will you promise me that?
- I promise.
- Good, come with me.

Trevor followed Mr. Thompson, and after a few turns he realized they were headed towards the medical section, and again into one of the procedure rooms. The room was almost empty, save for a hospital bed, a small stainless steel table with a syringe on, and a waiting nurse.

- Undress and lie down.
- What is this for?
- Punishment for not following protocol.

Never a straight answer. Trevor did as he had been told. Once on the bed, the nurse injected the syringe and within seconds everything went dark.

Trevor woke up in a different, but almost identical room. Neither Mr. Thompson, the nurse nor anyone else was in the room. His clothes were neatly folded on the steel table, and somewhere in there was his watch angrily beeping. He picked it up and saw that it was lunch time. Assuming he was now back on schedule, he quickly got dressed. He had almost forgot that something had been done to him. Was that getting too normal? He quickly inspected himself. He had more pubic hair and armpit hair than before. Was that all? He touched it. Perhaps it felt a bit coarser than before. Perhaps it was imagination.

Read the continuation.