They returned to the spiral escalator and rode up to the next floor. “Instead of just passively watching the women be redeemed,” the guard lectured, “a lot of men choose to help the process. I’ll show you first the public rooms.”
They walked through a door into another dungeon similar to the one on the floor below. Here, too, women were being tortured—only here, their tormentors were men instead of machines. The torchlight, the stench, the screams were virtually the same, except the men seemed to take a more vindictive attitude; while the machines downstairs doled out their cruelty in an impersonal manner, these men took a positive delight in abusing their women, no matter how loudly they cried for mercy.
As Wayne watched, a man dragged a woman into the room, ripped the clothes unceremon
