Chapter 7: The Ethical Paradox
Stephen gazed at Julia, his eyes reflecting a mix of academic curiosity and personal concern. "Can you tell me more about Lucia's and Valentina's ordeal? The specifics of their suffering and eventual demise?" he asked gently, aware of the delicate nature of the conversation.
Julia hesitated, her emotions a tempest of guilt and intrigue. She took a deep breath and began to describe the details vividly and graphically. "Lucia and Valentina... they are crucified with their wrists crossed above their heads, nailed together to the same cross. Their bodies are stretched, their armpits exposed, making them even more vulnerable and... erotic," she confessed, her voice a blend of remorse and fascination.
Stephen listened intently, his mind processing the implications. "If you believe their story deserves a fitting conclusion, perhaps you should go on, even if it results in their agony, humiliation, and death. Otherwise, their worldly experience will remain forever unfinished, and from an ontological perspective, that might be worse than being nailed to a cross. Non-existence could be considered a fate worse than a painful, eroticized death."
Julia's eyes widened at the thought. "I feel like their executioner: kind but merciless. Deep down, I'm sorry for their fate on the cross, and yet... I'm amused by the show of their pretty naked bodies, their suffering, and their eventual deaths..."
Stephen nodded, understanding the moral quandary she faced. "It's a difficult position. On one hand, you have the power to end their suffering by not continuing the story. On the other, completing their narrative gives their existence meaning, even if that existence is filled with pain and erotic humiliation."
Their conversation was filled with long pauses, each contemplating the ethical implications of Julia's creative power. Stephen finally broke the silence. "Perhaps the key lies in how you view their existence. Are they mere characters in a story, or have they become real entities in a parallel universe, deserving of empathy and a complete life narrative?"
Julia pondered his words, her mind conflicted. "It's like I'm playing god, deciding the fate of two beings who have become real through my imagination. But if I stop now, their suffering, their entire existence, becomes meaningless. They become nothing more than unfinished characters in a forgotten story."
Stephen leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "There's a strange beauty in the paradox you're facing. The act of creation and the responsibility it entails. Whether you choose to continue writing or not, the fact remains that you've brought something into existence, something that resonates beyond the pages of your story."
Julia nodded slowly, a sense of resolve building within her. "I need to finish their story. It's the only way to honor their existence, even if that existence is one of suffering and death. They deserve that much."
Stephen offered a supportive smile, though his eyes still held a glimmer of concern. "Then write, Julia. Write with the understanding of the power your words hold. Finish their story with the respect and depth it, and they, deserve."
Their conversation continued, delving deeper into philosophical discussions about creation, existence, and the ethics of storytelling. But throughout it all, Julia couldn't shake the feeling of being an omnipotent author, holding the lives of Lucia and Valentina in the balance between her fingers and the keyboard.
Chapter 8: The (Un)bearable Weight of Creation
Julia spoke softly, yet with a certain resolve in her voice. "I'm not saying like 'I don't care': indeed, I care if my thoughts hurt and kill those pretty girls in the world I crafted for them. Still, albeit saddened by it, I shall continue imagining tortures and executions. There are so many limitations in our real life, that I don't accept further limitations in my mind's life, even if the price is agony and death for someone else. I think the characters that I imagine and torture and execute have just to... deal with it, the best they can."
"And that's all? I mean... nailed to the cross, and tortured... you said they will be penetrated in the pussy during their ordeal..." Stephen asked, trying to grasp the full extent of Julia's narrative.
"I might be sorry for them - actually, I am-, yet I won't spare them the ordeal and death I've in store for them. Probably it's just that I'm not such a good person, after all: I would accept the prospect of hurting and killing others as the price of not limiting my imagination. Under the façade of my smile, it lurks something dark I think, a desire to suffer myself and watch others suffering."
"Suffer yourself?" Stephen asked, his tone gentle yet probing.
"Yeah... when I write, I identify with my... 'victims'. In a sense, I envy them: they will feel and live some extraordinary experience... at least for once, before they snuff it."
Stephen leaned forward, his voice cautious. "Julia, this line of thinking is dangerous, it might induce you to..."
"To kill myself? I don't think so, don't worry for me Stephen...", Julia replied, attempting to sound convincing. However, her voice wavered, betraying her inner doubts and fears.
Stephen sighed, his concern deepening. "Julia, you're treading a fine line between fantasy and reality, between empathy and detachment. It's crucial to remember that your well-being is paramount. Don't let your imagination consume you."
Julia nodded slowly, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. She was drawn to the world she created, a world of pain, eroticism, and death, yet she was also aware of the moral and psychological implications of her writings. And to that world, she returned that evening, just as the hammer went down on the nail that would affix Lucia's wrists to the wooden cross...
... and down the hammer went, piercing Lucia's crossed wrists with a single nail. She screamed in pain, under Valentina's terrified gaze and the crowd's amused watching. The sound of the hammer striking metal echoed through the air, a grim symphony to the unfolding tragedy.
Valentina's eyes were wide with horror, tears streaming down her face as she watched Lucia writhe in agony.
"You're so beautiful, Lucia. All naked and pinned with your wrists above your head... so helpless and struggling. Truly a sight..." one of the guards remarked, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and sadistic pleasure.
"You're doing something very difficult, and you do that for our show. You can take pride in that, like a good performer..." Marcus added, trying to infuse a sense of pride in their cruel fate.
"Yeah, a performer of a pornographic torture-show, that will end in my death!" Lucia retorted, her voice laced with pain and sorrow.
"Still, it's a beautiful show. A spectacle that moves our deepest inner feelings, and that will be remembered by all who admire you now..." the guard said, his tone reflecting the complex emotions of the situation.
The guards held Valentina steady, preparing to nail her wrists next to Lucia's. The crowd was in a frenzy of excitement, their cheers and jeers creating a cacophony of noise that drowned out the girls' cries.
Lucia, despite the searing pain, tried to offer a reassuring look to Valentina. "We'll get through this... together," she managed to gasp, her voice strained with torment.
Valentina nodded, her resolve fortified by Lucia's bravery. As the guards positioned her wrists beside Lucia's, she braced herself for the excruciating pain that was to come. The anticipation was almost as unbearable as the pain itself.
As the hammer came down on the second nail, piercing through Valentina's wrists and pinning them to the cross with Lucia's, her scream joined Lucia's in a haunting duet of suffering. The guards stepped back, admiring their handiwork, the two girls now crucified together, their bodies a testament to the cruelty and eroticism of the spectacle.
Julia watched from her parallel reality, her heart heavy with guilt and fascination. The screams of Lucia and Valentina echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of the dark allure of her own imagination. She realized then that her story had taken on a life of its own, beyond the confines of her mind and the pages of her writing. In a parallel universe, Lucia and Valentina were enduring the pain and humiliation she had envisioned for them, their fates intertwined in an agonizing ballet of suffering and pornographic display.
