“Perhaps it’s because of all the books I’ve read or the movies I’ve watched, but I’ve always had dreams of peril, especially on stormy nights like tonight. Dreams where I’m that provocatively clad damsel in distress, fated to die an agonizing death merely for my evil abductor’s amusement.”

“Perhaps, I’m tied to the tracks, screaming in terror as that speeding train approaches.”

“Or, I’m watching in horror as that buzzsaw’s razor-sharp blade moves smoothly upward between my legs. With every passing second, its deadly spinning blade moves steadily closer to my crotch.”

“Or, perhaps, I’m suspended over a bed of sharp-looking spikes, tied tightly to a massive wooden St. Andrew’s cross, slowly tilting toward those waiting spikes. I struggle against the ropes, but it’s hopeless. In mere moments the far end of the chain holding the cross will slip free, plunging me down onto those deadly spikes.”

“In my dreams, the death traps are endless, and in the end, I always die a gruesome, agonizingly painful death. I’ve often wondered if my dreams aren’t delightful harbingers of my future. Perhaps I’m destined to be that damsel in distress after all. Abducted to suffer a painful, unspeakably torturous death for my evil abductor’s amusement.”

“Dreams of peril, so darkly seductive, a girl can always hope...”