|Starring:||Elisabeth O'Day, 169/60/20|
|Eric Raymond Conner, 182/96/35|
Elisabeth lived in Harrisvill, Arizona. Every year, the voluntary
theatre group would arrange a charity play for the city. She loved the plays, and she had
gone to see them every year since she was three. Since she moved away from home, the plays
had been a chariest excuse for a family get together.
An evening, just a week before the play, Eric, one of the actors, called her. He explained the Lisa's son David had the flue, so Lisa couldn't come to the rehearsal. Lisa's role was not difficult. Did Elisabeth want to stand in for her?
Yes, of cause she would. She was thrilled to contribute to the play, and she'd love a little sneak preview. She had to be at the outdoor scene at 10 PM. She could hardly wait.
When she arrived at the scene, she was very nervous. Eric had
invited a small audience to witness the preview. He explained that Elisabeth didn't have
to do much. She should just act scared, and follow the other actors orders. It wouldn't be
Elisabeth loved the costume. Old fashioned, and very pretty. She was supposed to be a witch who was caught and questioned by the inquisition. Before she was tortured, Lord Falcion, the hero, would ride in and rescue her.
When it was her turn, two extras grabbed her wrists and
dragged her onto the scene. A big wooden cross was laid out on the floor, and they pushed
her down on it.
"Oh god, that hurt", she yelled. What the fuck were
they doing? This was not funny. She felt the tip of another nail press against the palm of
her left hand. She tried to pull her band back, but someone held her wrist. She looked up
at the other extra, just in time to see him raise his hammer.
"Get them out. Get them out, damn it!", she screamed
as she felt the cross move. The two extras pulled it up.
"Be quiet, Beth", Eric said. "Soon this rod
will be ready for you" He shuffled the coals a bit, then he pushed the rod into the
center of the heat.
This had had to be a nightmare! It just couldn't be true. They
couldn't torture her. She hated pain.
"Now we are ready, Beth", Eric said, and pulled the
iron rod out of the coals. The tip glowed with a burning yellow light. The panic in
Elisabeth's eyes were exquisite, as her eyes fixed on the rod. He moved it towards her.
Her eyes stuck to it, like she was mesmerized.
She stared at the glowing tip of the rod, as it slowly came
closer to her face. She was frozen almost solid. Eric brought the glow up between her
eyes. She could feel the searing heat of the iron, even though it was several inches from
her face. It jerked her out of her silence.
She felt the iron touch her left eyelid. The pain hit her like
a hammer. She felt her skin burn and stick to the iron, tearing, as the rod was pushed
deeper, burning into the apple of her eye. The iron hissed, as the glowing tip submerged
in her blood and the juice of her eyeball. The pain mixed with her fear and the rush of
adrenaline, filling her with panic.
"The poor girl hangs at the cross, awaiting her fate",
she heard Eric say, "What do you think, gentlemen? Innocent or guilty?"
She could hear the men laughing through the wall of pain which surrounded her. Everything was pain and darkness, and their hideous laughter. She was just a girl, who wanted to help them with their play. And now she was blind. And dying.
"Guilty", she heard them yell, as with one voice.
"Then watch her die!", Eric yelled. She could feel him pull up her dress. The men in the audience laughed, as Eric exposed her to them. God, this was humiliating. Please be quick, she begged. Please just kill me.
"She will die by Lord Falcion's sword", Eric laughed. She felt cold steel touch her labias. The tip slid up her pussy. It was so cold. Then is stopped.
"Gentlemen! This is not an act, this is the real thing. You'll see a young woman die now. I give you Elisabeth O'Day, 20 years old", Eric grinned. Then she felt the steel move inside her, tearing through her uterus. She begged to god, but it just kept on moving, spearing her like a full roast pig. It felt so cold, and so painful inside her. She could feel her hot blood flow down her legs, soaking her dress, and splashing onto the wooden floor of the stage. The cold filled her, spread to every limp, washing away the hot pain from the iron rod. She could hear the men laughing as she was slowly bleeding to death.
"Help me! Please! Please! Help me you monsters!", she screamed.
"And thus she curses us with her dying breath, proving her guilt beyond doubt", she heard Eric laugh, as he pulled the sword home. "The good men of the inquisition rejoice, for the Lord has been served!"
She felt her body pull tight around the blade. It filled her. The coldness of the steel filled her body. The laughter of the men drowned in a sea of pain. Then there was silence.