Love Me To The End

Chapter 1: Horror Bonding

In a secret location, a group of masked attendees are gathered before a small stage. On the stage is an ornate cabinet with a swinging door left wide open. The inside of the cabinet is lined with plush red velvet, contrasting with the dark, vicious spikes that line the door. A well dressed host is addressing the crowd.

Two figures mount the stage, dressed respectively in silvery grey and burgundy ballgowns with sequinned silk opera masks. The lady in grey whispers something to her companion before stepping into the cabinet and settling against the red velvet interior, facing out towards the audience.

A hush falls across those assembled as the lady quietly looks down, as if making mental preparations. After a dramatic pause she looks up and smiles, her eyes sparkling through the eyeholes in her mask. She makes one final glance around the room and gives a small nod. There is the sound of a spring being released and the spiked door swings forcefully around, slamming shut on the cabinet and its sole, willing inhabitant.

—–

This is a story of many little deaths, some not so little.

What is your darkest fantasy? Don't tell me you don't have one, if you're human you have a dark side whether you like it or not. You shouldn't be afraid to admit it, because the way we choose to deal when the darkness manifests is a huge part of who we are.

The ultimate darkness is, of course, our own mortality and that of our loved ones, and it is frightening as fuck. Some deal with it through denial, as if simply wishing the darkness gone is enough to make it so, usually by invoking religion. When that doesn't work they turn to righteous justification to deflect the darkness onto others. Others veer towards psychopathy and sadism, using the darkness as an excuse to hurt people simply for the feeling of power. Both of these groups are dangerous.

But then there are those that come to embrace the fear and intensity of their own destruction and make it into a game, the thing that shapes life itself, controlled, committed to and enjoyed as the ultimate thrill ride. When you meet the darkness on your own terms, by your own rules, it can even be befriended. The French coined "La Petite Mort" as a metaphor for the orgasm. The little death. Consensual, passionate, romantic, infinity in a moment and to Hell with everything else.

As you may have gathered by now I'm not everyone's idea of a people-person but I don't hate people or the world. I love it all, I just happen to find the shadows more comforting than the light, where, ironically, evil hides more readily.

I am Lexie. I am a gender non-conforming bi cult horror geek, a dreamer with a deathwish. I have a guillotine in my bedroom. Mostly I hang wet towels on it.

—-

Maise and I met in a shared house let by a landlord who crammed tenants into every part of the building that could possibly be called a room, down to, and including, the downstairs utility cupboard. We were all nominally "professionals" as per terms of the rental agreement, but mostly this was in the "desperate temp" sense of the word. The house was flaky, poorly maintained and with an aloof community of occupants who passed in the corridor or communal kitchen and knew or cared little of each others' business, which made it all the more interesting when you did happen to form a bond with someone.

Maise lived in the room opposite mine, up in the attic. She was a confident, good natured woman with a light olive complexion, long dark hair and chestnut eyes, who I often met while cooking in the communal kitchen. Most of the house's inhabitants lived off of takeouts and ready meals, so being the only ones interested in actually using the cooker and work surfaces was the first thing we bonded over. Sometimes we would pool resources and cook together. But aside from that, our relationship was limited to when we met on the landing in between our rooms on the way out to work, or if we happened to be going out in the evenings at the same time. Maise was a creative dresser and put together some beautiful themed outfits, I admired the eye she had for building an image. But after a while, an odd pattern started to emerge.