[ You enter the Bedroom. The decor reeks of sleaze— black floors polished to a mirror shine reflect you from below, the walls leather panelled, set with studs and mounted with sturdy rings. Leather straps and braided cord hangs from the coat hanger, and the bed is rumpled, unmade. An ornate side-table is topped off with expensive bottles of booze, more half-emptied than full. A dresser drawer is open, everything inside looking to be made entirely of black lace.

The only entrance to this room is to the west. It's a dead-end. ]