She remembered dying: It was still clear in her mind. The van was filled with gaiety, alcohol and pot, all overpowered with a dense cloud of sexuality pulsing with desire, when in an instant it all changed. Sexuality became terror as the van left the road preceded by the sound of metal enmeshing with the guard rail. Laughter was replaced with screams as the van tumbled through the air. Alcohol and pot dulled her mind, banishing the chaos surrounding her as a scream welled up in her throat. As quickly as it had started, it ended with the deafening sound of metal in agony as the van impacted the bottom of the gorge, taking her life from her.
~*~
Life, death, Heaven, Hell, God, Satan...The words resounded in her mind like a mantra: Words rather than ideas. Having never thought of the words as real concepts before, they brought no memories; neither did they evoke any fear. The only memory she could find was of her death, being neither vivid nor clear it was certain. Being sure she was dead, the only wonder within her was how she remembered anything.
A nervous laughter arose in her mind as she realized she remembered her death yet had no memory of having lived. Maybe I'm not dead, she thought to herself. As soon as those words arose in her mind she recoiled as the thought assaulted her rationality. No: I'm dead. That thought shocked her even more, being clear, distinct and lucid unlike her memory which was in contrast unfocused, somewhat unreal, more dream like.
Lucidity brought with it logic: If I'm dead, I must have been alive. Searching with willful intent she could find no memories, not even her name, all that remained in her cognition was the wreck which ran through her mind like a repetitive loop, and the surety of her death. Thinking she should be afraid while intellectually wanting to scream she could find no emotion within her. Even as awareness faded there was no panic. Knowing she was dead, she was somewhat relieved, thinking she should fade from existence: It seemed right.
~*~
Intense blinding pain filled her body letting the scream that had welled up in her throat out of her mouth as another jolt of pain expanded into the remotest corners of her mind filling it completely. Still unaware of her own identity, the body she was in seemed somehow wrong. Again her mind contorted in harmony with her body as she screamed, pain filling every part of her. Panic filled her mind, fear took her sanity while terror took all rationality as she screamed hysterically unaware of who or where she was. Through it all there was only one thought: I'm dead. This can't be happening. I know I'm dead.
The droning chant filled her mind as consciousness expanded out from her, slowly bringing her world into focus. Lying on a cold stone altar, bound into place she strained to see in the dimly lit room. The pain this time came from a whip applied strongly to her upper thighs. Writhing in pain her scream was cut short with the forceful addition of a ball gag into her mouth. Within the chant was laughter, cold not warm. The whip fell in cadence to commands coming from a hooded figure as her hands and feet were released. The commands were spoken in a feminine voice while the harsh whip seemed to be wielded by a male hand. "Get up on your knees. Sit up straight. Bow your head. Hold your wrists behind your back."
Each biting slash of the whip brought forth a scream muted by the ball gag in her mouth, adding to the chant rather than interfering with it. Scrambling to obey her orders in complete submission to the voice commanding her, the room came slowly into focus becoming less dream-like, more real. Dim flickering candles and a dense cloud of intoxicating smoke from the brazier created an eerie environment but not unreal. Being surrounded by hooded figures chanting with power seemed familiar yet did not raise a memory.
There were memories in her mind however she was sure they were not her own. They belonged to someone named Ann. The memory of Ann's death was as vivid in her mind as her own. Having no time to think about it, her attention returned to her body as the whip kissed her harshly across her ass. "Listen carefully. The body you are in is not your body. Your body is dead. Obey me exactly and the body you are in will become yours... The memories you have are not your memories. Pay them no mind, they will soon fade"
Any attempt to make sense out of the words was interrupted by harsh irregular slashes of the whip as it laid new red stripes across her ass and thighs, bringing muted screams from her mouth. Hooded figures closed in around her filling the space with their chant while exploring her body intimately with their hands. The hands caressing her seemed to have their own life, not seeming to be connected to the chanting figures who owned them, raising her new body to arousal.
As if coming from a distance, the words were barely heard; however they were clear in her mind as the ball gag was removed and the chalice was pressed to her lips. "You are Alice. This is your memory. Drink it... Remember... Remember when the hands first touched you. Remember the party. Remember the lust. Remember being Alice, a little slut... You must retrieve your memories or you will fade with Ann's memories. Drink your memory or you will soon be as dead as your body.
Fear ruled her mind, bringing blind panic both wanting to scream and wanting to run. The memories in her mind clashed within her consciousness vying for acceptance. The memory in her mind of Ann's death was as real as the memory of her own. A shot of pain erupted on her body trying to enter her cognition. Experiencing the pain vicariously, arousal was now firmly within her cognition as moans of passion filled her mouth as well as her mind. For the first time she feared death. Fear melded with pain raising her arousal to lust.
The same way fear kept her hands clasped to her wrists in self-bondage; unfettered fear demanded she drink deeply from the offered cup. Laughter filled the room as the memory filled her mouth expanding into her mind like a cloud, ethereal rather than substantial.
Diabolic laughter faded into the laughter of gaiety surrounding her as she remembered. Bits and pieces of Ann's memories pulsed in and out of her consciousness as her memory became more real while Ann's memories became less real. Before they left completely she became aware Ann had not given up her body willingly. Her life was taken from her in a ritual on the altar Alice now knelt on as her memory expanded taking her back in time and space removing her awareness away from the ritual and the altar; however the sound of the chant went with her.
As her memory solidified around her the only connection she retained to the ritual and the altar was the chant, almost drowned out by the blaring rock and roll music filling the area around her. In her memory the bondage she was in was not self-maintained rather her hands were bound behind her back with a bright red silk scarf. Being led into the revelry by the leash attached to the wide sequined collar around her neck keeping her head high while her eyes lowered in submission.