I’ve always had evil desires, my torturous death, the more agonizing, the more gruesome, the more erotically enticing those desires became.
Of course, I do have my standards. The guillotine with its deadly blade poised high above my neck or my neck across the block as the executioner raises
his razor-sharp axe high, enticingly terrifying yet far too quick. Perhaps, gutted by a sadistic serial killer, a slower and delightfully more gruesome
death, yet, while painful, it’s still too swift a demise. With their promise of slow lingering death, the gallows or the garrote, better but still not
torturous enough. Better yet, perhaps something a little more medieval, my body stretched painfully tight upon the rack, brutally abused with whips, hot
irons, and other gruesome instruments of torture until I die, ominously tempting but still too quick a death.
It wasn’t until I happened to watch the movie, the Virgin of Nuremberg, that I found the ultimate fulfillment of my evil desires. Something that will
delightfully haunt my darkest nightmares, death strapped tightly within the claustrophobic, spike lined interior of the iron maiden. Long hours, perhaps
even days, of unrelenting agony, brutally impaled upon dozens of razor-sharp spikes. Every shallow breath I manage to take, causing those spikes to twist
obscenely within my flesh, sending delightfully fresh explosions of unimaginable agony coursing through my slowly dying body.
To achieve my darkest desire, to suffer an unspeakably torturous death within the horrific confines of an iron maiden, one that holds the promise of a
fate that’s truly beyond mere evil, now that’s my idea of heaven...