Pride is the sin that sent Don Juan to hell.
You are not short of pride... Congratulations !

Thus your guide leads you through the room of honours door. Majestic in your large red cape you slowly walk to the centre. One thousand candles light up the room.

The walls hang up Flemish tapestries showing Sodom and Gomorra prostitution, Ahab's human sacrifices, Solomon's seduction by two of Lilith's creatures and Saul's visit to the witch. You are watching with delight two unknown paintings from Bosch and from Cranach ; their subversive fantasy makes you laugh : who could claim that they did not take the laugh at the people whom ordered the paintings ?

The great Chamberlain comes to you. Strange character! He looks like he is just coming out of the Garden of delights. He greets you with a tart " Eminence " and unrolls the festivity menu before your eyes.

Enjoy freely your own life.
You, magnificent one, shall shine to the firmament
like the red glowing star of the Fallen Angel
fading away in the early morning of a life.
To you who have no other homeland than the one
of free consented but always reversible ties,
the warm illusion of a place assigned to everyone
in the community of men,
the vain sense of duties that have to be fulfilled
in order to live in accordance to morality
but in reality with the unique intention to conform
to our fearful and herding nature,
the sense of community,
all that is totally unfamiliar.

Master of your own destiny, you shall enjoy a life
with clashes. Then, when pride
has disfigured your soul, remember
that life is not meant for happiness.

The blood letters pour before your eyeballs. You feel like your soul is reading what they mean.
Isn't this blood a symbol of death ? The announcement of a destiny hastened by the successive choices that brought you here ? Now you remember that red is also the colour of higher spirituality in Tarot magic...

In one second the chamberlain winds up the scroll and slips away. The truth is that you did not really understand what he wanted from you. Nevertheless, two seconds later you forget about it and start another visit around.

And it is as a landlord that you now walk around the room whereas just a few minutes ago you looked like such a shy and inexperienced apprentice sorcerer.

And you are charmed by what you see : a high ceiling supported by thin columns opening up in rib arcades propping up balconies on two different levels.

The balconies open out onto multiple tiny doors. Between each of them there are paintings of macabre dances and tortures of heretics. On some of them are the faces of being whose intellect seems totally dedicated to cruelty, portraits of which expressionism takes off all humanity.

A gateway with a massive and finely carved arch suddenly attracts your attention. The three arch bands are decorated with sculptures of various and wild series of copulation. That beats the range of positions you knew so far.

Some kind of western Karma Sutra. Thus you walk down the five stairs leading to the door and you open it.

What a shock ! At the end of the minute cell, a chained convulsed monster gives indescribable yelling as he sees you. Some sort of little demon swarming with uncontrolled spasms and glad to let you know that he is happy with his situation.
You wonder about the strange course that passed you through a monumental and promising door, which then shrank into a basement way to become a tiny opening and end up in this cell that nothing lights up...

... apart from the light coming through the doorframe.

You watch the gremlin with amusement – and terror too. Straight away you decide to find out what the other doors conceal.

A leap away you end up on the doorstep of a torture chamber where a high-heeled female creature is whipping a wretch stretched on a tilted table. Apparently, he too seems to enjoy his lot. Upside down with his head congested with blood, he urges his gorgeous torturer to punish him even harder. " He has sinned against the rule that stipulates to esteem oneself enough not to prostitute one's intelligence and soul in order to obtain favours from one's fellow men.
Living in good commerce with your fellow citizens, all right. Looking after appearences because they are nothing else but the reflection of what is inside, fine.

" Some very few beings among whom you seem to be "

And you had to come down in hell to hear about greatness of spirit ! This compliment about being among exceptional people goes right to your heart.

You take time for a further visit of the rest of the premises : amusing gargoyles, erotic illuminations heavily laid on large lecterns, episodes of Gilles de Rais' life from an unknown accomplice of his gruesome crimes. Then, on the course of your stroll, your feet suddenly crumple something on the floor : the piece of the parchment that the weird chamberlain of hell held out to you and took back ! Here, left on the paving, open on a passage of which several lines are preceded by three wax seals...

Taken aback you lean a bit closer. Next to each seal you read a inscription in Latin. Easy ! You translate :

Thus you realise that there is a choice to be made ; only one of the three seals can be taken off the page.