Bose had extensively studied the effects of psychotropic drugs on the mind; perused innumerable research papers on the topic. He had even taken to supporting drug rings just so he could study the effects of the substances on the human mind first hand, after all, weren’t all these ‘volunteers’ just waiting to test out his concoctions.

They were always chasing the newest high and Bose’s drugs were top notch. The best part? Bose didn’t even have to pay them to test out his concoctions… in fact, they were willing to beg, borrow and steal just to get the next hit.

And if some of the drugs turned out to be a bit too potent and someone stopped breathing? Well, thousands across the world died of overdosing… they wouldn't be missed.

With abundant resources and ‘lab rats’ at his disposal Bose’s research had progressed with leaps and bounds.

He had found a breakthrough to accessing the Dreamland in the phenomenon known as the ‘drug trip’.

Many users of crack, LSD or other hallucinogenic drugs reported having visions and out of body experiences after they had snorted the stuff or pumped their veins full of the nefarious chemicals.

Bose conjectured that they weren’t so much hallucinating as taking a ‘trip’ to the Dreamland.

He had been extremely excited. If an ordinary human mind could access the Dreamland under the effect of drugs what about genetic cultivators? Would their enhanced soul show a different reaction with the drugs?

He had immediately set about testing it and met success after success in thinning the barriers between the Dreamland and reality.

But he had soon run up against a bottleneck.

Though the test subjects could access the Dreamland, but thy could do little within it. Even worse, they couldn't remember much from their ‘trips’. Understandable as they were high as kites at that time and their cognitive facilities greatly impaired.

In fact, the results were far less encouraging than that of the government and its approach of putting people into deep sleep to naturally explore the Dreamland.

Bose had vague notions of unifying drugs with extreme emotional simulation to somehow rip open a portal to the Dreamland, but he suffered from lacking a proper direction in his research efforts.

He was but a single man and he was fumbling in the dark, hoping to pick the pebble of success from the mountain of stones of failure.

It was then that a mysterious organization had contacted him and guided him to Prelati’s Spellbook. It had all fallen into place.

He had learned that there was an entire hidden force with interests similar to his and resources that could subvert a nation. They had delved far deeper into the Dreamland than he had dared to imagine and they had cracked several of its mysteries.

If he succeeded in his summoning, he had been promised a post in the organization.

Thus, filled with fiery ambition, he had begun his preparations.

The first thing he needed to summon a demon into his body was for the Dreamland to condense. The festival of Durga Puja, specially its climax during Dashami was the perfect opportunity.

That was why he had plied his connections and built the bunker below the pandal. He had poured his money into the pandal to maximize the footfalls and therefore the degree of condensation of the Dreamland.

His efforts had paid off, even without the help of drugs, he could feel the presence of the Dreamland all around just with his level of soul cultivation.

The second problem was ripping open a gap in the Dreamland in order to let the demon enter the real world.

That was where his previous research had come in handy.

Pumping his ten soul cultivator subordinates full of his most potent hallucinogen had caused their souls to leak out, generating a conduit to the Dreamland. The sex had been to intensify their emotions and therefore the firmness of the channel.

As for the spikes currently impaling their screaming and writhing forms…

That was the final part of the ceremony.

Bright red blood flowed down the screw like grooves cut into the spikes even as the ten figures writhed in pain trying to pull themselves off the sharpened bit of metal.

Unfortunately, the ends of the spikes were curved backwards like a harpoon and their efforts to pull the spike out just caused their gashes to tear further and large gouts of blood to flow out of their wounds, flowing down the grooves cut into the spikes.

The blood ran down the channel and fell into the pentagram cut into the concrete floor.

The pentagram filled with blood, the channel like depressions filling with the crimson liquid like some macabre imitation of ink.

Bose looked on unemotionally as the men and women with limitless potential writhed and flailed as they slowly bled out.

One girl had her heart directly pierced and with his senses he could feel her breathe her last.

His sensation of the soul was special. He sensed souls as scents. Emotions to him were like fragrances.

Currently, the bunker positively reeked of fear and death. The perfect conditions to summon a demon wouldn't you say?

The contrast between the pleasure they had been experiencing through the effects of drugs and sex and the excruciating agony of being impaled further heightened the emotions of the nine survivors.

Their souls began to riot within their bodies in their desperation to survive.

Bose took a deep breath. He could smell something new. The scent of the Dreamland.

It was finally time for him to transcend and join the ranks of the enlightened.

Opening up his Heaven Chakra his soul gushed out and connected with the nano-photons in the blood-filled pentagram and through it, to the panicked minds of the nine flailing soul cultivators; using them as a conduit to the Dreamland.

His mind touched a vast and foreign consciousness. It was like he was a drop of water in front of the sea. He smelt curiosity and… hope; all wrapped up within an envelope of anger and bloodthirst.

For a short moment he wondered whether he had made a huge mistake before his time for ponder was over as the foreign consciousness gushed into his body.