We pushed open the corridor door and stepped into the second level together.
The second all four of us got inside, the metal gate of the level slammed shut and locked tight behind us.
The lights in the room were off.
Vivienne pulled out a flashlight and swept its beam across the space. The moment the full view of the room came into focus, she stumbled back several steps, trembling, until her back hit the cold, unyielding metal of the locked gate.
Right in the center of the room sat a massive, dented iron table.
It was cluttered with all kinds of stuff: sharp daggers, cracked leather whips, half-melted candles, smoldering cigarette butts glowing red, an oven radiating faint crimson heat, and a juicer that suddenly buzzed to life out of nowhere.
Every single one of these items was stre
