The Darkness Within

©2004 By J. Nicholas Lewis

In the cold decrepit basement of Lila Bathory’s capacious mansion a phonograph played a soothing yet garbled melody, resonating calmly throughout the room. Though the melody was garbled, it held a hint of darkly symphonic beauty, befriending the room’s abhorrent antiquity. Throngs of spider webs were honeycombed amidst the worn black ceiling, convoluting around dozens of pendulant chains whose ends formed into crescent hooks eager to pierce living flesh. Decaying columns of brick stood helplessly. The ground laid smothered in mottles of muck and moss with debris sprawled slovenly about. Scrupulously set upon the decaying walls bared symbols and hieroglyphics whose artistic value was so archaic and uncanny to have been inked by anyone of the modern age. Through the only window of the basement, the night’s phosphorescent full moon coruscated through in a great pool of light, its ethereal glow shining upon James lying upon the ground with his hands propped behind him in handcuffs and his eyes obscured by a thick velvety veil. He had been in a state of torpor for quite sometime. All he could remember was walking into his home in ruins and the blunt end of something metallic clashing against the back of his head.

Lila’s servant, Nicholas, emerged from the Shadows, splashing a pale of water onto his face, awakening him from his slumber. The man writhed frenetically upon the ground, his eyes straining to pierce the veil hindering the horrific visions before him.

Seeming to come as a whisper in the shadows, an erotically placid voice spoke to him, “Hello darling…”

“Wha—wha—who’s that… who’s there!” the man responded.

Nicholas pulled him to his feet by a tuft of his short black hair. He reached into the pocket of his suede-coat, pulling out the keys to unlock the handcuffs. Upon freeing him of his restraint, the man struggled to free himself of Nicholas’s grasp. But in his endeavor Nicholas kneed him in the stomach, forcing him to double over, kneeling pitifully to the ground, gasping for breath. Nicholas grabbed a pair of shackles attached by chains that hung from the ceiling not but seven feet from the ground directly in front of him. He pulled the man up to his feet, forcing his hands above his head, locking the shackles firmly around his wrists where he then removed the veil from his face.

The man gazed around the room in fear and befuddlement. He had never been to a place so desolate and so aberrantly grotesque as this. It was but a few moments when his gaze set upon the silhouette of Lila’s tall slender figure lingering in the shadows, standing aside a tripod with a camcorder propped upon it.

Lila hit the record button. “You’ve been a bad boy haven’t you…”

“Wha—wha—what!?”

Lila didn’t even need to interpret the shades of his aura to know how frightened the pitiable man was. Just by the inflections in his speech and the way his body shook, it was common sense.

Lila walked into the light of moon to reveal her frighteningly beautiful physiognomy. Fear changed to lust the moment he laid his eyes upon her. His eyes boggled and his mouth jarred open. Her dark blood-red hair was neatly slicked back in a long ponytail that fell to her waist. Her cold-blue eyes glinted like emeralds frozen in ice. Her outfit featured a black-leather bondage corset with open cups, sturdy spiked-shoulder straps, and a zipping front busk along with a pair of black leather pantaloons whose visibility was vague, thigh-high silk-stockings held up by garters, and her favorite pair of black knee-high boots. The most threatening characteristic of her outfit was her belt. From her belt hung several devices of restraint and torture—studded collars, floggers/whips of many lengths and sizes, and an arsenal of scalpels and knives.

“Nicholas, sweetie, leave us be…” Nicholas didn’t dare challenge his mistress’s authority. He knew exactly what she was capable of. He walked out of the basement leaving the two alone.

“So, tell me honey… why is Mr. Frost so displeased with you?” Lila knew the answer to that question; Frost had already told her of his issues with him. However, the man didn’t have the slightest idea why he was displeased with him nor did he understand what brought him to this cataclysmic fate. He just stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what to say.

“What’s the problem dear?” Lila removed a flogger from her belt, sticking its black metal handle against his crotch, pressing it lightly into him. Her eyes glued to the awestruck expression upon his face. “Aren’t ya’ gonna’ answer me?” The man was far too caught up in the moment to even begin to ruminate the notion of responding. His phallus was erecting to its full. Lila could feel it through his pants even if she wasn’t actually touching it.

Out of sheer curiosity, Lila studied the intricate patterns of his aura. Fear and lust were predominate. She saw the very same emotions in Nicholas the first time she met him. She smiled as the situation reminded her of the experiences she once had with Nicholas when he was mortal. But unlike Nicholas, there was nothing charismatic or intriguing about him. Lila knew that he would be of no use to her. She brought the handle back and speared it into the man’s privy. The chains prevented him from doubling over. All he could do was bow his head, clinch his privy between his thighs, letting the agonizing pain take over. “Do you not hear me you fool!” Lila yelled, “I asked you a question!”

Lila threw the flogger to the ground and took a surgical scalpel from her belt. She yanked the man’s head back by his hair, observing assiduously the fear in his face, sliding the scalpel ever so gently across his face, taunting him. “What a pitiful man you are…”

“Wha—wha—wha… what do you want me from me?” Trickles of tears took shape in his eyes. “Awww… Are those tears?” Lila giggled and dug the scalpel into his face tearing a deep slit into his left cheek, eliciting a scream that vociferated across the basement. “Go ahead… Scream! Squeal! No one’s going to hear you!” Lila continued to cut slits into his face, laughing maniacally as he screamed. The sensation of torture overwhelmed her in its abysmal embrace. It was reaching the point where she could feel the beast emerging from the very corner of her heart. With each stroke, she cut deeper and more frenziedly into his flesh, the blood splashing in copious amounts upon her face. She began to snarl like a rabid dog. Her eyes glowed a vibrant-red, her fangs elongated, and rage consumed her like a black hole. It was at that moment when her vision dissipated to blackness.

When she awoke… mangled chunks of flesh and bloody viscera were sprawled messily about. The only thing left of that poor man were his hands dripping of blood from the shackles. The phonograph continued to play its garbled melody. The camera watched on as silence filled the room. Lila looked upon the bloody mess. She was upset at the fact that the beast emerged so soon and that she was unable to control its urges. She hated that she wasted all of that time beautifying herself and getting all dressed up and ready to go just for the experience to last but a few measly moments.

Lila, disillusioned, turned the camera off and summoned Nicholas to perform the tedious chore of cleaning up the mess.