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In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house to which you can get yourself. No receptionist will speak with you; they all are well aware of your hidden motives. It doesn't matter, though, because you will not require their help in the hunt for this object. You are going to have to be totally prepared to proceed, though, if you wish to suffer no eternal damnation during your search. Your mind must be absolutely devoid of pride, and lacking in ego, for if it is not you have no possibility of defeating this Holder - leave.
If, however, you feel secure enough in your mental stability, ignore the incriminating stares of the people around you and explore the premises for the nearest building map. Memorize the room layout; you're looking for the one door not found in it. It will be unmarked.
Upon finding said door, which should look wholly inconspicuous and could appear in any hallway in the institution, slowly achieve within yourself the focus required to defeat your unmet opponent, and open the door. Walk quietly into the cell, and sit on the bloody rug at the far side of the bile-covered floor.
Do not forget to first shut the door, or many people on the other side will be quite upset at you for allowing your new roommate to escape. The sleeping man chained in a medieval fashion to the center of the room is to be called Jim, and he is the Holder of Infinite Patience. Do not let Jim's emaciated form or peeling, charred flesh put off any of your guard, as the crimson rug on which you sit lies within the radius of Jim's iron chains, and he has not had anyone to play with for likely quite a long time.
When your scent enters his nose-hole, Jim is going to jump with the excitement of new company, whom he has waited for in his chains since the owner of the crusty blood you are sitting on attempted what you do today. The worst thing that you could ever possibly do in this situation is panic - don't do it.
Jim's playfulness can only go so far; your fear will not please him. Any of Jim's victims would tell you that the last thing that they did before meeting the gnarled ends of Jim's fingernails was panic, after which time they were thrown eternally into a room identical to the one you are in, cold, iron chains wrapped around them as fire seeped into their cell through invisible creases, scorching their wretched bodies.
No, instead stare Jim straight in the eye, without moving, without thinking, without breaking eye contact. With every sign of fear or self-doubt that you display comes a greater chance of your total damnation. The best strategy here is to just not be afraid of Jim, no matter how badly his hide stinks of madness and decay.
I fervently hope that your dead stare will stop Jim from claiming his new plaything, and if it does work, and Jim becomes still, seize this moment to address him by name: "Jim, why has He put you here?"
Jim may become gripped by emotion, if your timing is correct in your questioning and his mind is sufficiently still to coherently understand your words. Painfully he will moan the story of his wrongful arrest and subsequent imprisonment, of his world taken away from him in a single, dehumanizing instant, and he will likely weep assuming he still has tear ducts by the time that you reach him.
Do not attempt to console the devastated man; there is nothing you could possibly do to remedy an eternity in isolated torture. Also do not attempt to end his suffering through murder; if that were an option and Jim were a mortal, it would have been ended ages ago. The only thing you can do at this point is ask plainly of the poor man to kindly give up to you that which he holds.
He will offer you a handful of it. Take it and leave. Do not look back.
The melted flesh is Object 171 of 538. The suffering of an eternity resides inside.