Chapter Seven
I was still waiting to wake up.
Perfect evenings are exceedingly rare and impossible to plan. Serendipity requires a perfect alignment of heavenly bodies that occurs, at best, once in a life time. I had been too long denied to question a gift from the Goddess. It was my turn.
The stairway was constructed of steel plate treads welded to the risers. The handrail was iron pipe. Sin and I joined the procession clattering down to the dungeon.
Once it had been a boiler room. The floor and walls were stained concrete. Rusting machines had been pushed into the corners to clear the center for a rack, a whipping bench, and a St. Andrew’s cross. Candle flames were the main light source, dancing in the eddies of air that stirred as we entered. The music was more muted here. Folding c
