Below is a Recollection–this is not a review, but rather a full spoiler walkthrough of the author’s experience in The Parallel/Heretic’s V A N II S H Part Four (Death). This is only one experience out of many that can occur when you flat-line, so all Deaths are expected to be different. Death is also one part of the larger narrative of V A N II S H, which spanned three distinct nights and two separate DEATH experiences. As each experience is separate and distinct, they will be split into individual Recollections. Please read Part One, Part Two (Death), Part Three, and Part Five to get the full narrative. In this experience, the author died during Part Three of V A N II S H, and was forced to face DEATH in order to continue with Part Five. There is no safe word, only an ease up word.
On a cloudless night, I stare up at the moon.
I hear footsteps behind me—I know it’s coming—but it doesn’t hurt any less when an arm is thrown around my neck and I am dragged down an alley and into a small garage. Darkness and fog surround me and I am thrown onto a bed.
Three tormentors emerge from the darkness. One settles at my feet, swiftly duct-taping them together at my ankles. The second grabs my arms, tying them together with rope. And the third forces my mouth open with a plastic mouth form. Once this is accomplished, I am sat up—and I am suffocated in plastic. Wrapping around my head, I attempt to remove it, but my arms are bound. I struggle to breathe. The room gets darker as I use up the last of my breath. But my captors poke a hole through the plastic–just enough for me to breathe through my mouth. They then bring me one more gift: a collar for my neck. It wraps around my neck until it is tight and vibrates, teasing that it’s no normal collar. And to prove its point, it shocks me. The electricity courses through my body and I realize how scared I truly am.
They let this feeling sink in too. I am left utterly alone, restrained, and short of breath with a shock collar on. I hear voice call out from the darkness. It’s the Australian man from night one again. He’s leaving a voicemail to his wife–is she okay? He’s worried. Why isn’t she returning his calls?
As the voicemail ends, a naked girl emerges from the darkness. She straddles my body, putting both hands on my chest.
“I love your tits.”
She squeezes my chest fondly. She is not violent, she is not scratching me. This is more caring—the touch of a lover.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
She gets closer to my plastic-wrapped face. She looks right at me, tilting her head to the side, “but you look different.”
She takes out a bondage mask and places it over my head. With the plastic and the mask—I can no longer see and my breathing is even more labored. She tells me her husband can’t find out about us, but she wants to be with me. “Don’t you want to be with me?” I nod, and she puts her hand down to my crotch. The memory of night two is strong, but I’m not me; I’m a woman. She begins to finger me, moaning into my ear. I don’t moan back initially—but my collar goes off, shocking me. I begin to moan and I fake climax for her.
Pleased with herself, she stands—and while I can’t see this, I hear it. She is grabbed from behind and chokes. Her body lands on top of mine and she gurgles and coughs up blood, spit, vomit. I feel her dragged from the bed as I hold onto her hand, trying to keep her close for just a moment longer.
Another voice speaks to me: “You had a dream—you dreamt of your wife. Your wife was dead, and a beast—a beast was tearing off pieces of your flesh and eating it.”
I sit up, trying to see who the voice belonged to. Hands grab at my face and the bondage mask is pulled from my head. Someone—something—grabs me. I am lifted up and slammed back into the bed. I am pushed to my side, lifted again, and slammed into the floor. This brutal physicality continues.
The man pauses for a moment, moving to grab something. He returns and begins to spray something onto my hair. I smell it and the scent is suffocating. It smells like straight alcohol. I time my breathing to his sprays. But I can’t keep up, and take a large breath of it. I feel nauseous, coughing violently to expel the noxious fumes.
I am flipped onto my stomach and my shift lifted. My back begins to burn! Is it on fire–no, it’s ice, it’s cold. But I don’t have time to worry about the pain. A hand pushes my face into the mattress and my eyes are held open. A knife is placed inches from my eye. “Kiss it,” he says. And I comply. They continue to play, poking and pinching at my ribs and pulling my hair.
I am lifted up, and they pull out a dripping wet glass dildo. One forces upon my mouth as they insert it and begin to fuck my mouth with it. When they grow tired of this, they discard me onto the bed—and leave me there.
I hear a voice from the darkness:
“You will go to this hotel room; you will do what we tell you. We will send them in one-by-one, and you will kill them. If you ever want to find out what happened to your wife, you will do as we say. Do you understand?”
I say I do—I will kill them one by one.
The female tormentor emerges, as if to reinforce their position. She reveals a large cattle prod, activating it and I see the electricity illuminate the room. The voice instructs her: “Use it on him, he doesn’t think we’re serious.” She steps forward and pushes the button again—but nothing happens. She seems frustrated that it’s not working.
“You died!” Another voice breaks the silence.
A blindingly bright light is shined into my face. A female voice—softer, kinder—instructs me to open my eyes. I comply, but it’s still too bright. I realize I am now outside. In an alley. A medic stands over me, and tells me I died for a moment, but they were able to bring me back. She helps me stand and inspects me for injuries. I shake myself off and realize what I must do: I need to go to the hotel room—I have a job to do.