I start to a cacophony of sounds and smells, scratching at my senses. Drums pound to a rabid beat while shrieks of laughter and whispers fill my ears. Intoxicating scents of spiced wine and incense weave through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of damp moss. Then my nose wrinkles in disgust at the unpleasant sickly-sweet smell of vomit.

Warily, I prise open my eyes and stare at the overwhelming maelstrom that surrounds me. A mud-splattered clearing stretches out in front of me and it’s enclosed by a ring of enormous pine trees that stretch up into the clear night sky. In the glade, there is a massive swarm of creatures. Maenads, adorned with ivy and grape vines, whirl in ecstatic abandon, their laughter a symphony of madness while Centaurs and fauns lounge around desperately clutching at goblets of wine. Bonfires roar, painting the night sky with fiery hues as the revellers lose themselves in ecstasy, a spectacle of primal joy and unbridled passion under the moon's luminous gaze.

As I blurrily take in the tumultuous scene, panic constricts my throat. Desperately searching for a way out, I home in on a towering throne. I stumble through the crowd, getting jostled by inebriated beings, and squint up at the sprawling figure. Upon his head sits a crown of grape vines and he’s wrapped in a plum toga. Draped on the throne, he looks like some monstrous wildcat.

“I want to leave…” I feebly croak out in a raspy voice.

The clearing goes silent.

Dionysus raises his head.

He bears into me with cat-like eyes. A blaring headache slashes through my mind and my vision swims as I collapse on the ground hallucinations dancing around me. All I hear is the soft, venom-filled words of: “No one leaves my party.”