Pandora’s Box is a public secret. The kind of thing that everybody knows about, but nobody seems to know the truth about. It’s a nightclub, a lovers’ playground, designed to entice young and old alike, and named after the ancient story of Pandora. In the story she closed her box after releasing all of the monsters and fears of the world, with only hope inside. The club advertised itself with the tagline “Hope for a better relationship.”
The truth, however, was a strange and twisted thing. Nobody ever saw the club’s employees during the day, and the club had taken a year, and a dozen private contractors, to build. Far longer than it should have given the interior design. The cost of the club, and the amazingly low rates on rooms, all managed to arouse suspicions. That was why I had come to the club: to answer my own questions.
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