The body twitched, jerking with convulsive motions as it struggled to raise the tray to chest level. Dry, paper-thin skin ripped as the abomination attempted to perform its programmed task. The silver tray shook and fell to the floor with a clatter, its contents of chemical vials and the bone-handled brush clattering to the floor.
“I would consider this one a failure,” remarked Melianna in a silken voice. She gazed at the re-animated corpse, noting the detail of each scar that crisscrossed its form, and reveling at the sweet memory of each mark’s origin. “Remove it, and string it from the balcony. The next one will have to last longer if Gil’Her thinks to build any favor with me.” Her words were answered immediately as black-clad bodyguards dashed from their guard points at the archon’s chamber doors. With prenatural grace, they hoisted the offending corpse and swiftly carried it out of the chamber.
Melianna sighed. Why couldn’t her servants perfect this small level of re-animation? She was sure that almost all of the other archons of the Last Hatred possessed simple playthings like this. She had been delighted with the dancing corpses on display in Archon Thyndrak’s grand ballroom. They were marvelous creations, trapped in a form of semi-consciousness and continually pleading for their suffering to end. The mere thought of their plight, brought color to Melianna’s face. “Patience love,” she whispered to herself. She reached to the floor and retrieved a vial of stimulant that the corpse had dropped, and selected a needle from her table to administer it with. As she performed the routine injection, she resigned to obtain more subjects for experimentation. Perhaps a pact with the fleshcrafters was in order for a few advances to the research. She scowled at the thought of owing those ghouls more wealth, but knew it was likely necessary to obtain the desired luxuries.
A small chime echoed in the archon’s chamber as her guards returned. One stepped cautiously into her presence, bearing a sealed box in outstretched palm. “Lady,” his cold voice spoke, “the messengers arrived bearing this.”
Melianna took the trinket and dismissed the guard to his post with a gesture. She noted the sigil of the Red Sorrow and the personal seal of Nyssa Lystaryx. A smile creeped to her lips as she opened the lockbox secreted in her grooming station and selected the antidote to the poison Nyssa would have used on the seal. Injecting the serum, was a rush of almost-sexual ecstasy, it composition, along with the poison was designed to stimulate the proper endorphin receptors. She then broke the seal, feeling the poison permeate her skin, and immediately acting with the antidote to provide another rush of bittersweet pain. Skin glowing, her eyes devoured the contents of the message within. She sat back to contemplate the news, mind already racing to think of what delights could be mined from the world described therein. The level of conflict that could erupt from a maiden world dispute was enormous and could bring so many toys her chambers.
Melianna rose, her flawless features reflecting in the eyes of the seven bound slaves, restrained and suspended above her grooming station. She gripped a bone-handled knife from its place beside her brushes, and reached upward to open a bleeding gash on the thigh of a young male slave. He winced and struggled against his bonds and gag, and the blade’s neuro-field caused all of his pain receptors to scream as if they were on fire. Melianna’s practiced cut was too much and he lapsed into unconsciousness from the pain. The archon drank in the feedback from the blade, and while it was not enough to sate her, she knew that great prizes were on the horizon. Blood dripped from the wound and splattered across face.
“Ready the skiffs, we leave immediately after I have had my bath.”
Melianna took the trinket and dismissed the guard to his post with a gesture. She noted the sigil of the Red Sorrow and the personal seal of Nyssa Lystaryx. A smile creeped to her lips as she opened the lockbox secreted in her grooming station and selected the antidote to the poison Nyssa would have used on the seal. Injecting the serum, was a rush of almost-sexual ecstasy, it composition, along with the poison was designed to stimulate the proper endorphin receptors. She then broke the seal, feeling the poison permeate her skin, and immediately acting with the antidote to provide another rush of bittersweet pain. Skin glowing, her eyes devoured the contents of the message within. She sat back to contemplate the news, mind already racing to think of what delights could be mined from the world described therein. The level of conflict that could erupt from a maiden world dispute was enormous and could bring so many toys her chambers.
Melianna rose, her flawless features reflecting in the eyes of the seven bound slaves, restrained and suspended above her grooming station. She gripped a bone-handled knife from its place beside her brushes, and reached upward to open a bleeding gash on the thigh of a young male slave. He winced and struggled against his bonds and gag, and the blade’s neuro-field caused all of his pain receptors to scream as if they were on fire. Melianna’s practiced cut was too much and he lapsed into unconsciousness from the pain. The archon drank in the feedback from the blade, and while it was not enough to sate her, she knew that great prizes were on the horizon. Blood dripped from the wound and splattered across face.
“Ready the skiffs, we leave immediately after I have had my bath.”
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