You change your mind

You've only taken a few strides towards your cottage when you change your mind. The memory of the ceremony you saw last night has never been far from the surface of your mind, and when you see Chanel, the girl who was violated atop the altar last night standing with some friends it comes flooding back.

The underground temple with it's secret doors could not have been built in secret, you tell yourself. Even the part you could see was not small, and there were indications of other hallways or chambers leading off it. You remember that the balcony you watched from was poured concrete, the railing steel piping, looking far more modern than the ornate and macabre decorations of the temple.

There should be a record of its construction somewhere, you reason, turning your steps towards the library.