Chapter 217: True Debauchery

With his heart thudding like a bass drum during a suspenseful trailer, he cautiously stepped toward the door, and reached for the handle.

His fingers hovered for a second above the cold brass knob. Every step he'd taken up to this point had felt surreal, but this moment? This one felt final. Like crossing an invisible line he wouldn't be able to walk back from.

He swallowed hard.

"Okay, okay... it's just a door," he muttered to himself, trying to summon whatever shred of courage he had left. "What's the worst it could be?"

His brain helpfully whispered: flickering candles, a pentagram on the floor and satanic rituals.

 Every instinct screamed for him to turn back, but the pull of curiosity was stronger. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was the mystery. Or maybe it was the same part of him that had followed glowing breadcrumbs down increasingly strange halls. Whatever the reason, he opened the door.