Eternal Hearts by Lucy Taylor

Author:Lucy Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: White Wolf Publishing AB

CHAPTER TEN

Blindly, methodically, Rapunzel clawed and chewed and scraped at the earth, but as the hours passed - or was it days? - she grew increasingly confused and exhausted, her strength ebbing at a frightful rate. Occasionally, she was able to move one arm enough to explore herself in places, but this, she came to realize, was a terrible mistake. From what her trembling fingers found and didn’t find, it was clear her body, her face especially, had been brutally redesigned. Things were missing, added, shoved off-center, and misaligned. Not only had she died a monstrous death, somehow along the way, she had been made a monster, too.

The discovery of her appalling disfigurement sapped her strength more than the digging. Lethargy settled into her muscles. A languid torpor invaded her limbs and mind. She lay still, floating in the silence like a dead embryo in an icy amniotic sack, her consciousness flickering and dwindling.

But slowly, subtly, something else began to happen, something that the one who had buried her might not have foreseen - or at any rate was helpless to prevent. In life, Rapunzel had entertained herself with an active fantasy life as much as drugs and sex. Now, in such a state of total sensory deprivation, her mind began to over-compensate with self-generated stimulation. A pyrotechnic porn show, rich with sounds and colors and laser lights, orchestrated itself in her brain. Body memories so vivid that her dead synapses shivered with phantom orgasms passed through her like electric current, emotions and sensations inundated her lifeless cells.

She didn’t just remember - she re-lived. And the re-living was both a salvation linking her to some remnant of sanity and a terrifying return to the horror that had led up to her death.

She was a prisoner not just underground, but a captive inside her skull where, if she didn’t free herself, she’d spend eternity re-living her last mortal days.

Rapunzel opened up her dirt-clogged mouth and screamed her lover’s name: “Dracon, Dracon... Dracon!”

And in her mind, like a summoned god, he came to her.

Her Dracon, her master, her death sentence.

From the beginning, she had guessed that everything he told her about himself was a lie. How could it be otherwise? Wasn’t deception almost the unwritten rule behind computer sex? She’d been surfing the Net since she was twelve. She knew her way around a chatroom as well as she knew the ins and outs of male anatomy and - Lord knows - had represented herself as everything from a transvestite porn star to an obese housewife into water sports and snuff flicks. Did tall, blond ad executives with violet eyes and Porsches in the garage, as Dracon had originally described himself, really pass their time trying to score with fat, sick chicks on the Net? Not likely.

So she’d figured Dracon’s description of himself was as much a fabrication as her own when, on a whim, she’d decided to portray herself as an overweight mother of four who spent her afternoons scarfing down homemade chocolate chip cookies and masturbating with a double-pronged, vibrating dildo.

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