It had been almost a month since Paige accidently discovered her husband’s secret journal and learned of her husband’s darkly perverted fantasies. Dark blood-soaked
nightmares of diabolically brutal torture echoing with the agonizing screams of women enduring unrelenting torment, of women slowly being tortured to death by David her husband.
At first her husband’s darkly sadistic fantasies truly horrified Paige but as she continued to read the entries within his journal she suddenly realized how sexually aroused she was becoming with each entry she read. Her husband wrote not of the erotic intimacy of the bedroom but the erotic intimacy of the dungeon, not the intimacy of lovers but the intimacy shared between the victim and her torturer, an intimacy that transcends both pleasure and pain, the ultimate intimacy of a woman enduring a painfully torturous death merely for another’s pleasure. And, almost as terrifying as the unspeakably torturous demises the victims in her husband’s journal was that they all went to their deaths with utter willingness. In fact, it seemed all of them had intentionally sought out and paid for her husband’s diabolically deadly services.
Reading David’s journal Paige noticed each entry was dated but it wasn’t until she reached the final few entries that she finally realized the significance of those dates. Her husband David traveled extensively for work and the last few entries corresponded to his recent business trips, all his recent business trips! Flipping back through the journal entries Paige suddenly noticed they all seemed to occur in the same place, the cunningly concealed sub-basement beneath an abandoned factory high in the hills above their town.
Waiting until the following Monday morning, her husband on a teleconference from his home office Paige drove to that abandoned factory and found her way down into the basement. A railroad locomotive factory build in the late 1800’s the site had sat abandoned since the 1950’s, the factory grounds so polluted with toxic heavy metals as to make the site cost ineffective to renovate. The electrical junction box was just as described in her husband’s journal, opening the cover Paige entered the same “666” code used by all of her husband’s willing victims and pressed the enter key. As the hidden entrance opened before her eyes she could feel her heartbeat racing, what if my husband truly is a serial killer?
Knowing that there was no way back, Paige descended the torturously steep steps that led down to the factory’s hidden sub-basement, but nothing in her worst nightmares could have prepared her for the horrors she discovered at the bottom of those stairs. Beyond imagining, the chamber’s subtle overhead lights revealed every instrument of diabolical torment she’d ever imagined. Everywhere she looked screamed pain. Fearful for her sanity it took every last fiber of Paige’s being not to flee back up the stairs.
Slowly, Paige made her way through the vast array of torturous deaths her husband’s hidden torture chamber offered. Past the torture racks and the beds of spikes, past the whipping posts, past the drowning pools and the tanks of flesh consuming acid, past the spike-lined iron maidens, until she finally reached a door labeled “Production Editing”. Three hours later Paige stepped out of the “Production Editing” room and softly closed the door behind her before leaving the factory, so much to consider, so much to think about, so much to ponder.
Three weeks later...
The torturer entered the dungeon to find his latest victim already waiting, her upper body on the table, her hips and legs already helplessly and suggestively suspended from the chamber’s high ceiling.
“Hello David, I hope that discovering your latest victim is actually your wife doesn’t alter you diabolically torturous plans for the evening.”
Smiling beneath his face concealing hood David replied, “Not in the least Paige, I fully intend to torture you to death, in fact I intend to make your demise excruciatingly memorable.”
Trying desperately to hide the fear in her voice, Paige responded, “And how are you going to explain the release of a snuff film that stars your wife?”
Fighting back the urge to laugh, David replied, “Silly girl, since the moment I discovered that you’d read my journal, to the time the hidden cameras recorded your first visit to my dungeon, do you really think I’d release your snuff film to our general audience?”
Paige was still pondering her best response when David shoved that oversized ball gag into her mouth.
Looking down at his wife’s startled expression David smiled darkly, “Your death will be a thing of legend, so much pain, and so much pleasure. Still in the end the pain will win out and I promise you’ll die screaming in agony. So my little pain toy, shall we begin?”