Club Valhalla
Chapter 7
“We advise all our clients not to enter the last house with two rooms. Few people take our advice. They don’t want to pay the money to leave the experience, or they think they have gone this far, so they should finish it. Well, brave Saoirse, don’t think you owe anyone that last house. It’s not the Camino de Santiago. You don’t have to walk the walk until you see the bloody cathedral. You can stop here. I will stop here and say goodbye to you. We will not see each other again. I want to tell you I think you have more willpower in you than most people think. I am impressed with you, and that is a big compliment. We will not kiss because I don’t want all that gooey stuff on my face. Have a wonderful wedding day, lots of orgasms on your wedding night, and never take your nipple rings off; they look gorgeous on you.”
Suddenly his tone of voice changed. “Hands behind your back.” He clicked a set of handcuffs onto her wrists and checked them to see if they were tight enough, but not too tight. As before, he just turned around and walked away without looking back once.
A chilly breeze made Saoirse shiver and her nipples painfully hard. When she entered the house, in the small entrance hall she immediately ran into two closed doors. The right door displayed “Life,” and the left one displayed “Death.” Then she realised the Viking hadn’t told her which door Aoife had chosen for her. Saoirse turned around to call him, but the exterior door was closed. Of course, Aoife would have chosen Life for her, which had to be the reason the Viking had said nothing. She gathered all of her courage and opened the door with ‘Life’. Not easy with her hands behind her back.
‘Life’ was closed. Even if she pushed hard, it was clearly locked. This was not funny anymore. This was not a game any longer. Was this Aoife’s revenge for our relationship troubles in the past? Did Aoife want her to die? Or was this the ultimate test of trust? Did she trust Aoife enough to guide her anywhere? In an instinctive attempt to escape, Saoirse grabbed the handle of the exterior door, only to find it locked securely. ‘With the door locking once the Walker enters, the only option is to proceed through the experience,’ she heard the echo of the Viking in her head. Without thinking about it any longer, she opened the door to Death and threw it open.
Her face went white. In the corner of the room stood what people call an Iron Maiden, a coffin-like sarcophagus with a hinged door lined with spikes, so someone could lock the victim inside, and the nails would pierce them as the door closed. And in the sarcophagus was her Aoife, her hands and feet locked in iron chains. Her eyes blindfolded and her mouth gagged with the remains of what once was a wedding dress. Two wedding dresses down. Fortunately, they had spare jeans and shirts in the car. For a moment, Aoife’s bald-shaven pussy distracted Saoirse. The landing strip had disappeared. It looked good enough to eat. On the left, another of the TV-sets was lighting up.
‘The door of the Iron Maiden is programmed to close within 26 minutes. Each minute the door will close one centimetre. If the door is locked, 31 holes will perforate your fiancée’s body. Most contestants find a way to save the one in the coffin, but twice they didn’t make it, unfortunately. That is why the legal stuff you both signed is so important to us.’
Next screen: ‘Suffice to say that Aoife completely cooperated in being tied into the coffin as she trusted you to get her out in time. 24 minutes left. Hurry, and good luck!’