Nothing. Only me and my memories, wrapped around themselves. Only my prison.And something else. A whisper. A fragment of a whisper. Greedy for noise I...follow, and something miraculous happens. I smell. Blood. Essence. Power. Do I hear, or only remember hearing? I am a fragment of thought atrophying outside space and time. I cannot perceive, and yet I do. I open my eyes.The ceiling above is grey stone, chipped painstakingly into the mountain, not built. No mortar lines. Flickering torchlight. This was the first of many nights like this.Over the following months, Nick Drew became Nicki Sweet and, after one fateful trip to amazon.com he realised that there was nothing stopping him anymore.The advert was on the homepage, 50% off women’s wear. Something clicked in his head. He could have anything he wanted delivered to his door, anonymously. It would just be a box, he would just be a credit card number. He could be…her. His basket filled quickly some panties first, then two pairs of. More

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