As he passes through the gates, another door rolls in behind him, squealing shut on ungreased wheels, a great vault door locking him in... this would be repeated on each level he passed into. The way into hell, was not the way out.
The second level was lust and here there were great fans set behind the walls. Blowing with a near-gale force strength. Not enough to topple those passing through, only to make their journey that much more difficult. Here the center of the room had mannequins hanging from the ceiling on various miniature tracks that would let them be blown in circles but never come in contact with each other. They were dressed in torn and tattered clothing exposing what would have been their genitals had any of them been living. Lust was the wind, blowing them uncontrollably, never able to make a true connection and guided only by their carnal desires.
The door to level three was guarded by a towering robot of Cerberus. The three heads drooling mild acid over those who passed under their legs on the way to the hell of gluttons.
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