(The Inferno has a natural grainy photo filter that blurs all pictures. It’s part of the curse.)
Welcome to the Inferno!
From the outside, working at an art gallery seemed chill, but this art gallery, The Inferno, was baleful. Walls oozed angst and ire, asphyxiating hope from ever reaching inside. Physically the gallery was an architects’ masterpiece, a piece of history melded with a contemporary vision. Decades ago it was a brewing factory at the brim with beer, but re-purposed to hold works of art. Now to the average guest that’s all it seems, but when one listens closely, a piercing scream will bring about an unrelenting trepidation that will linger until the grave.
To get inside, you have to go through the heavy doors, a sign to keep people out or better yet, to keep evil in. A dragon resides within, breathing smoke and flames, hoarding art and worker’s souls. It’s an understatement to suggest the gallery was running smoothly. It had rotting floorboards from the original brewery, held dust, bug carcasses and trinkets between small cleaves. I kept asking myself, how this place hadn’t succumbed to the chaos, yet there it stands, a brilliant edifice hiding a secret.
Underground, the safest place where the dragon rarely visits lies the warning message for those who willingly give their souls. “Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here,” the last words of an abducted soul, lost to the gallery’s bitter turmoil. A warning from a valiant hero cautioning the lost souls who dare to venture deep. Had I adhered to those last words?