Love Me To The End

Chapter 4: Head Girl

In the main hall of the Mortal Masquerade, all eyes are upon the newcomer with boyish blonde hair and sequinned mask. She knows what is to happen to her, having just seen the one who brought her here impaled in the very iron maiden in which she now stands. Before her are a crowd of masked faces, some ornate, some cartoonish, some grotesque. She hopes to die well for all of them, but for one in particular, wherever she may be watching from.

What the hell is taking so long? She glances towards the bank of vicious spikes on the spring loaded door, their tips tainted crimson from moments ago. She mentally calculates all the places on her body where the spikes will land. She can already feel them slamming home, penetrating through her.

She hears the click of the spring being released.

—-

The world looked very different after that night. First, the whole mindfuck experience of the sawing, how Maise played my mind like a harp to evoke the nerve sensations she wanted. I was running back every part of it in my mind trying to piece together what had happened to me, it was truly incredible and I dearly wanted to be able to do it for her too.

There was the discovery of a whole underground club dedicated to what I thought was an isolated, weird kink of my own. Sure I'd found the odd thing online, but much of it was crass, brutal and misogynistic, nothing that I felt comfortable getting close to. But the people in that video weren't exploiting anyone, the whole thing was fun and way over the top.

Then there was that footage of Maise, my love, being buried and encased in cement wearing that awesome stylish outfit I so loved on her. If it hadn't been for the strict no-copy conditions, I would have been looping that video on my phone over and over. I wondered if I'd ever get the chance to be buried like that myself, and began imagining scenarios.

With all this going through my head as I coasted through my data entry chores, the working day came and went like a passing wind, soon I was on the bus back home to my lover. We met in the kitchen as usual, but immediately she suggested we went upstairs. We had things to discuss that weren't for the ears of anyone passing through the communal area.

"I've been looking into getting you to the Masquerade," she said. "You must understand that it is a private members club with necessarily strict entry requirements, just one of which is being introduced by a current spirit. Of course, that will be me. You will need to be fully briefed on the conventions we work with, also we'll have to come up with a mask and costume for your first avatar. Don't get too attached, because that avatar won't be around for long – on your first night you will be required to take part in a deathplay. As your advocate I will be able to join you for that, but they will be watching how you conduct yourself to make sure you are the right material for the club."

I was eager to do whatever it took to get started.

"What kind of avatar should I have?" I asked.

"You're pretty much free to be creative with that. As you've seen, it's common for spirits to take on different gendered characters and I can't wait to see how you work with that. The only real rule is no child avatars, because it would be utterly inappropriate even by our standards to build scenes around killing children."

She paused, and gave me a smile.

"Shame, I can picture you in a cute school uniform."

"When might this happen?" I asked.

"Not immediately," she said, "there are still a few things that need to be arranged. But they'll let me know when they're ready for you. All you have to do then is show up and die beautifully. We won't know what the scene will be until the time comes, but it will probably be something fairly simple with nothing for you to do except face your fate. Don't forget, when your avatar dies you play dead and stay dead until they get you to Limbo. Then you can unmask and relax."