Dangling by her wrists over a flesh-searing pit of flame Kristine listened in disbelief as the goddess Ereshkigal said, "Dearest Kristine, tonight I give you a rare choice." The Mesopotamian underworld's supreme goddess of death smiled darkly as she continued, "Make no mistake Kristine, for regardless of your choice, both end in an agonizing demise."

"So chose Kristine, die by the sword or die by the fire. My husband Nergal, the Mesopotamian god of war and pestilences, already grows impatient. Now choose your demise or I will choose one for you."

Seeing the look of total shook in Kristine's lovely green eyes Ereshkigal continued, "Yes, I know of your dalliances with the hired help. Ironically, it seems, your latest lover, the Marquis de Sade, was actually rather fond of you. Perhaps he enjoyed the seductive sound of your screams a little to much."

Sensing Kristine's utter and complete submission Ereshkigal enjoyed a brief moment of utterly sadistic satisfaction. Kristine had once again proven herself worthy of her place as one of the death goddess's pleasure slaves.

Lost in the masochistic realization that Ereshkigal was truly her eternal goddess, Kristine failed to notice the swing of Nergal's sword before it's razor sharp blade bit into her waist.