The most notorious compound at the Manus Island detention centre does not appear on the official map. The four main compounds, Delta, Foxtrot, Mike and Oscar, are all clearly marked. But not this one.
They call it Chauka, and it is made up of a series of converted shipping containers, each containing a single bed and no windows, configured in the shape of a triangle, with a courtyard in the middle and just one way out, marked by a sentry post.
Its official name is the Managed Accommodation Area and it is where "misbehaving" asylum seekers are taken as part of the Behavioural Modification Program, run, naturally enough, by the Behavioural Management Team.
Several weeks ago, two of the asylum seekers who were housed in Mike compound had never heard of Chauka. One of them was an eye witness to the murder of Reza Barati during the night of violence that engulfed the centre in February.
All that changed when they voiced their opposition to changes to the detention centre policy covering phone and internet access, insisting the changes made it almost impossible to talk to family members still in the Middle East.
In a graphic account subsequently posted on Facebook, the Iranian who witnessed Barati's murder described being taken to Chauka, fed bread and water for three days and sleeping on the muddy ground.
"We were crying and asking what is our fault?" he wrote on the post. "They said: 'Because you always object to all of our rules'."
During their ordeal, the men claim they were cable-tied to chairs and beaten about the body to avoid noticeable bruises. Sensationally, they also assert they were threatened with rape and murder if they did not retract their statements to police on what they saw at the centre on February 17.
Their case was taken up by Benjamin Pynt, the director of human rights advocacy for Perth-based Humanitarian Research Partners, who forwarded their complaints to Australian Federal Police and the office of United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights.
But they seemed to go nowhere.
It was the asylum seekers' word against those running the centre and their allegations of inhumane treatment were dismissed as baseless by Immigration Minister Scott Morrison, who said through a spokesperson that he had been advised that "two men became abusive and aggressive and were moved in accordance with operational policy within the centre".
Now, Pynt's calls for an independent examination of what took place have been strengthened the leaking of dozens of pages of internal documents that describe the circumstances of the two men's transfer to Chauka.
What we are talking about here is a total institution where there is no independent scrutiny of what goes on and we know that, within those types of institutions, abusive practices inevitably arise.Dr Peter Young
What is revealed transcends their predicament, shedding light on the sad, bleak and surreal world inside one of the world's most remote and controversial immigration detention centres, a hugely expensive enterprise with the sole purpose of deterring others from attempting to come to Australia by boat.
Tucked inside a Navy base, it is dehumanised place, run by people who have invented their own vocabulary to describe how they keep it ticking over, how they keep things "calm".
Here is a crowded parallel universe, where common sense ideas for making life more interesting and bearable, such as allowing detainees to cook for themselves, or grow vegetables, are seen as potential dangers and forbidden.
Daily "sitreps" (situation reports) begin with an executive summary of major or critical incidents that took place in the preceding 24-hour period and a "mood indicator" indicating the tension level in the preceding weeks.
It looks like a bushfire alert graphic you might find on the weather pages, except that the temperature gauge relates to levels of anxiety, with anything under 10 denoting calm; between 11 and 12, "unsettled"; between 13 and 14, "agitated"; between 15 and 16, "aggressive" and anything between 17 and 20 "volatile".
A footnote tells you that each mood indicator is calculated by "analysing inputs from baseline support monitor engage plans, baseline behavioural management plans, adverse incidents, missed meals and known intelligence reports".
A typical report notes the number of "transferees" who missed all meals in the 24-hour period in each compound, the number of assaults or acts of self-harm, and the number of people on high or moderate Whiskey Watch.
Whiskey Watch? Another footnote tells you: "Whiskey Watch is monitoring of a transferee by BMT [the Behavioural management Team]." It explains that Whiskey Watch observations can be "ongoing" (minimum three-hourly checks in); "moderate" (minimum half-hourly checks) and "high" (requiring the detainee to be kept within arms' length or line of sight, depending on the circumstances).
No fewer than 30 detainees are described as on Whiskey Watch in one of the leaked daily dossiers, where a mug shot of the asylum seeker being monitored appears next to the reason he is of concern and the "care plan" for service providers to manage him.
While many are being observed for aggressive or "non-compliant" behaviour, others are being monitored because they have undertaken real or threatened acts of self-harm, acts summarised in such blunt language as "attempted hanging".
Then there are those among the all-male population who simply appear to have lost it: "Found in toilet naked and semi-conscious," was one description. "Noose discovered in room. Mood appears very low," says another.
The contents of the documents come as no surprise to Dr Peter Young, who until July was director of mental health for International Health and Medical Services (IHMS), the private contractor that provides medical care to detention centres on the Australian mainland, Christmas Island, Nauru and Manus Island.
"What we are talking about here is a total institution where there is no independent scrutiny of what goes on and we know that, within those types of institutions, abusive practices inevitably arise," Dr Young told Fairfax Media.
"This particular place has been shown to have worse mental health outcomes than other detention centres, with people who were vulnerable because of their past experiences becoming more traumatised by the detention experience."
The incident that prompted the transfer of the two asylum seekers to Chauka is described in the report covering July 14 and 15, with the two men described as "community leaders" within the centre who "behaved in an anti-social manner" during a meeting to discuss new rules covering phone and internet access, prompting the decision to "remove both transferees to the Chauka compound".
Under the heading, Assessment and Outlook, the same report noted that the meeting was "certain" to have unsettled some of the transferees, with the word "certain" given emphasis by the use of bold type.
"The subsequent removal of two transferees to Chauka compound for anti-social behaviour is likely to have unsettled the friends of the transferees removed," it added. "The passive demonstration, later that evening, is certain to be a consequence of the removal of the two transferees rather than the internet and phone scheduling changes."
The same assessment noted that the deteriorating security situation in Iraq and Syria continued to be a catalyst for those in the "transferee population" with ties in those areas.
"As the issues in Iraq continue to become more widespread and involve surrounding countries, it is certain transferees from the greater region will seek to remain abreast of current occurrences. To date transferees have exhibited restraint and understanding in this context."
And there was another concern, too, one that highlighted the risk that detainees might seek to use social media to alert those outside to their plight.
"It is certain that transferees within Oscar compound are in possession of mobile phones. It is likely that the phones within the compound have photographic capabilities. It is possible that the phones mentioned are in Oscar compound."
The situation of the two who were sent to Chauka was addressed in another report two days later. It observed that their return to the Mike compound had "calmed matters".
After Fairfax Media reported the Facebook entry and that Pynt had lodged a complaint with the Australian Federal Police and the office of United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, another report, dated August 18, said the men's claims were unsupported and "deliberately misleading to create negative public opinion".
But the initial explanation for their transfer to Chauka for "anti-social behaviour" was upgraded. Now it was stated that they had spent "several days" in Chauka for "inciting mass unrest".
Having gone public with their claims of torture, the pair previously portrayed as "community leaders" were now described as having an "extensive history" of intimidation and threats and of making false claims about their treatment.
Aside from chronicling the mood of the camp, the reports offer an insight into what emerges as the overriding purpose of the centre: to warehouse the detainees as a deterrent to further arrivals, rather than prepare those who eventually will be found to be refugees for the huge task of rebuilding their lives.
More than 1,000 asylum are detained at the centre, but fewer than 80 have been given refugee status interim assessments (41 of them positive). Despite Tony Abbott predicting earlier this year that resettlement in PNG would begin in May, the Papua New Guinea government is yet to approve a refugee policy that might deliver on the formal agreement between the Australian and PNG government that is underpinned by Australian funding.
It was the lack of certainty about their future – indeed the certainty that they would be in detention for a long time with no prospect of resettlement in Australia or a third country – that was a catalyst for the unrest that preceded the violence in February.
In a numbing environment of low or no expectations of resettlement in a country that might offer some opportunity for what might be considered a normal life, those who remain resilient are the exceptions, and attempts to seek out some form of stimulation are viewed as unnatural, and even suspicious.
A report covering the first week of August, for instance, notes that transferees in the Mike compound, the scene of the worst violence in February, are participating in "organised gym/physical activities" each afternoon.
"Ongoing information was provided which indicates that the Iranian cohort are again extending their influence within the Mike compound and attempting to intimidate other transferees," the report notes.
It then concludes that the behaviour is more likely an attempt by the Iranians to "regain status" than preparation for "any action likely to impact on security and good order". Another possibility is not canvassed: that they were just trying to stay sane.
According to Pynt, the gym equipment has since been removed.
Pynt has now drawn on the documents in a submission to the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights. He says he has spoken to a medical professional at the centre who was in the Mike compound when the two men returned from Chauka.
When one of the men began explaining what had taken place, Pynt asserts, the other "curled up into a ball and cried uncontrollably" in a clear sign that they had experienced significant trauma.
His report also highlights the case of two brothers who claim they spent 12 days in Chauka in what amounted to "mental torture". When they were released from Chauka, the pair were placed in separate compounds and permitted to see each other once a week.
It makes several specific allegations of abuse and even torture and concludes that the documents show "show a remarkable normalisation of mental illness and the persistent use of harmful practices based on fear to manage behaviour".
But whether anything will come of allegations is doubtful, as the logical forum for them to be investigated is an inquiry set up by PNG judge David Canning that began taking evidence in March, including from the asylum seeker who made his allegations on Facebook.
The inquiry has been shut down by a legal challenge lodged by the PNG government and paid in full by the Australian government.