Saturated colorful beams flash on the walls, reflecting off the polished floor like the siren lights of a police car. Reds, pinks, purples and blues strobe into an artificial fog hovering in space. Large dripping text is scrawled across one prominent wall; 'If Heaven is too high, raise Hell.'
The dance floor is swimming with bodies, rolling and bobbing to pounding music like a tidal wave of reckless abandon. It's easy to pick out the living from the dead by the movement alone.
The living jerk with chaotic energy even the really drunk ones have this uncontrollable sway as they dance. Groups clustered on the sidelines squirm and bounce in their chairs.
Fidgeting, humans are always fidgeting. It's especially apparent when they are seated next to a vampire, still as an untouched marionette.
The vampires maneuver with purpose, every action is deliberate and felt. They flow like water with hairline accuracy. It's not a dance floor for some, it's a hunting ground. It's plainly visible in their impenetrable gaze, how they hover, stalk and anticipate. They are the sharks circling the oblivious school.
It had been a very long time since I set foot in this place, but not long enough. Ashlen had been doing that a lot, having me relive experiences. Though, in some ways, it's better this time around.
I really hope the pattern of 'better' continues and we've come on a tame night, but I won't count on it.
The nightclub is more impressive than I remember, it appears to have stretched and grown as if alive. It's as enigmatic as the ruins of a buried cathedral. It's vast curving balconies stack modeled in two tiers, structured like a grand concert hall. Glittering eyes beat down from the sinuous railing. It's the equivalent of a flock of vultures preparing to descend upon a brewing scourge.
The ceiling gives a slight feeling of vertigo when tilting your head back to peer at the dim chandeliers, it's hard to believe this is all underground. Too far below for any hero to hear the desperate screams begging for a savior.
Ashlen's jaw is practically dragging on the floor, blown away by it all.
"Wow," she breathes, it seems to be the only word she can manage, "Wow!"
It is a sight to behold, there weren't many places like Allure. It's mysterious, exciting and potentially deadly. Dangerous in various ways. I'll keep Ashlen close.
I pity the unlucky mortals that stumble upon Allure entirely clueless and I'll never understand humans that know full well but deliberately come anyway, especially repeat offenders. It's like dangling your legs into a tiger pit, daring the great cat to jump up and snatch a meaty morsel.
The human pets know better than to wander off on their own, they clinging to their vampire masters and follow them around like puppies, hence the name. Pets are even more baffling to me, they're voluntary blood slaves.
Maybe they've deluded themselves into feeling safe with their so called masters, that it's worth it in someway. Or perhaps they've in entangled themselves to the point of no return.
What promises are they counting on coming to fruition? Immortality, wealth, love? Most of them will be sorely disappointed, if they even live to feel it. They could be hooked on vampire blood. Addicts, I know some of the employees are.
The human staff, now, they were the most mentally bonkers group in this place by far. Workplace casualty risk is off the charts. Rule or no rule, you let a random vampire drink from you and it's like playing trust fall off a cliff. The ultimate Russian roulette.
'Don't take too much, promise stranger? Mhmm, sure, says the hungry vampire.' Are they a bunch of adrenaline junkies? Whatever the reason, their lack of survival instincts are a deep concern.
Has it always been this busy? It's packed, a lot more humans than usual and most of them look none the wiser. An army of heartbeats thumping on the main floor cause a dizzying sensation. Isn't it a weekday, Thursday? I wonder if there's some event going on.
"Sam?"
I turn to locate the low lullaby voice in the direction of the bar. The long bar is as sleek as a slot machines lying on its side, lights streak through the counters edge. More lights are twisting in swirling patterns on the back wall like craggy magma. The lowered ceiling gives it an enclosed and intimate feel. My gaze is drawn to a confetti cannon of purple hair that I immediately recognize.
"Heavens to Betsy, it is you."
I greet the familiar face, "You're still holding down the fort, I see."
Nancy hasn't changed much since the last time I saw her, but then again, vampires don't really change. The only difference being tightly woven cornrows near one of her temples, how stylish. The rest of her fluorescent hair is cascading around a heart-shaped face in tight spirals. The purple adds striking contrasts against her dark luminescent complexion. Her skin tone has a cool bluish undertone that appears ethereal, like she'd been kissed by winter. Her keen eyes are dark but I've seen them more orange than a hallows eve moon, either way they have an uncanny draw about them.
"It's been years since I've seen you! I honestly didn't think you'd be back," even in enthusiasm her voice is mellow and soothing, though deep enough to carry past the abundant racket.
"I wouldn't have, but my friend was drawn to the infamous Allure," I take a seat on the plush leather stool, "Ashlen this is Nancy. She's stability in this pandemonium and doesn't bite too hard."
Nancy wrinkles her nose into a mischievous grin, "Not unless I have to."
Ash slides onto the stool next to mine a little overwhelmed by the sensory haven this place seems to be, "Good to meet you, Nancy."
"Likewise. Sam's picky about his friends, you must be something special."
Something special indeed. My brother almost killed her among other things and she's the closest link to a monster I plan to bury. And after all of that she somehow doesn't hate me. Though, that could feasibly reverse if she learned I had a mark out for her maker.
With all the chaos aside, she truly is something else.
I'm used to battling with that creeping nihilism often plaguing my thoughts. But with her, things don't seem so bleak and pointless. She inspires me. I almost wonder if I'm capable of being half decent person around her. At the same time, I know she's much too good for me.
And too good for the corrupt Allure, this is no place for Ashlen. Why did she want to come here? Is curiosity the only driving reason or is there more? I hope I'm not influencing her.
It may be a sign that I should separate myself from Ash. I don't want to drag her down to my wretched level.
I need to buckle down, focus. Take the reaper out then get out, assuming I don't get avisersted in the process. She'll be better off with both of us gone.
Ash shyly brushes off the compliment, "No, I wouldn't say that, just an eventful coincidence. He's just being nice showing me around."
Nancy casts me a powerful glance, analyzing for a flash of a second before shifting her attention back to Ashlen. A staunch listening type, which made her perfect in this profession. She kept her opinions to herself unless asked and her insight never failed to surprise when shared. If I didn't know better I'd believe her to be from the Seer's line.
She leans forward pressing both palms into the counter, one violet curl slides into her eye, "Well, can I get you anything to curb the craving?"
Ashlen's face slopes into confusion.
"I can't believe you can get the bag stuff to sell. It tastes like shit," I throw a callous remark as corner of my mouth folds. Old blood is a hard pass for me, likely because it takes me back to when I was turned.
"It's not that bad," Nancy argues, "Nothing beats straight from the source mind you, but it's got good flavor. I've heard rumors it can prevent a vamp from going Bloodstruck."
I snort, "Right, who came up with that one? I'm sure it's the very thing making leeches batshit."
Nancy shakes her head at me with her half lidded eyes and turns back to Ashlen who's quietly observing, "You're new so I'll fix you one on the house. Then you can determine if I'm the one who needs my taste buds checked or if Sam's a fussy exaggerator."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Ash attempts to refuse.
Nancy waves her hand dismissively at her, "I'll pick out a good one and heat it up. Having it cold is an acquired taste."
Nancy goes to create a concoction of disappointment as Ashlen leans towards me and whispers, "What's Bloodstruck?"
"In short, going mad from either starving or glutting yourself on blood."
"Hmm, so too much or too little? Moderation is key then."
"Precisely."
Ashlen spins on the barstool to admire the spacious club, surveying the crowd of exuberant dancers and both rows of the upper floors in awe.
"You made this place seem so frightening, I don't see anything too bad going on. It's unlike anything I've ever seen. To think *this* was right under my nose!"
I observe an argument on the top balcony gradually blossoming into something hostile and murmur, "You never know what you'll get with this place."
I continue watching the two bickering vampires become more infuriated with each other. One appears to be from another time, he wears a general's or captain's coat while the other is fitted in a simple jacket and jeans. Their pet humans are backed away but still hovering on alert. This is going to boil over any second now.
Just as anticipated the one in fancy old fashioned garb goes for one of the pets, hands stretched like hawk talons to snatch her up. The human girl yelps as her master rushes to her defense. He thrusts the offending vampire into the rail guard. The pets' screams are shrill as several heads jerk upward to witness the spectacle.
The dirty blonde in the jeans has two furious coals lodged in his face as he peers down, tipping the other farther beyond safety. Locks of chestnut hair dangle from the one hung upside-down. The strands collect into a point like an arrow directing decent, intricate robes tumble after.
The throttled captain deliberately tilts further back, fisting his opponent's jacket planning to take him with. They'll both splat onto onyx marble flooring a good three stories below. A nasty fall but they'll likely both survive.
Collective gasps and chatter can be heard above the thrashing guitar riff. Several fingers point up at them from within crowd below.
The dirty blonde staggers losing his grip on the other's throat. The war general swings himself back into the balcony, tripping up the other in the process.
In a scrap of flying claws and fangs the captain gets the upper hand. He takes the opening before the other can recover.
A hand pierces through the blonde's chest and exits just as fast with a hunk of flesh as a souvenir.
There are multiple screams scattered throughout and even a gasp from Ashlen as the vampire chokes, mouth masticating like a fish. He grabs his chest and falls to his knees. One hand floats around blindly for his missing heart, gripping at the air then mindlessly scratching at the rough fabric of the wrinkled war coat.
The captain squeezes the heart until it pops, gushes and deflates, the music masks an unpleasant sound I'm sure it made. He slings away the remains straight faced, flicking his hand as if to rid droplets after washing one's hands.
One of the pets cries out into awful sobs and throws herself on the vampire now crumpled up on the carpet, covering his body with her own.
The victor forces her off him. Pulling the woman away from the balcony edge with her kicking and screaming bloody murder. They all disappear somewhere beyond the line of sight. Leaving the dead one nearly hanging off the side. The edge of the carpet darkens and black liquid dribbles off the platform.
I purse my lips as my head shakes. The fight was quick, lethal and likely over something trivial. How very stupid.
A few panicked and confused humans are squabbling about, the ones that aren't in on the big secret. There is a heavy murmuring and some consider fleeing. They talk about it but they never do it. 'Nobody seems to listen to their gut anymore.'
An applause breaks out along with some whooping and nervous laughter. I grimace. 'Theatrics, that's all it is. Just a little stunt for your amusement.'
It's actually incredible that people fall for the ruse, believing it's staged mellowdrama. I guess it's hard for the common folk to accept that inexplicable and horrible things actually happen. 'It would never happen to me. Not in a local club. No, never.' I faciously mock the cartoonish thought process.
Ashlen gapes at the crowd then spins on her chair staring into space, pallid and nauseated.
"This is so screwed up. Crazy town, *crazy town*," she mutters as her head sways.
I wish she didn't have to see that but I did try to warn her. I reach over and touch her shoulder, she jolts upright from the contact, gaping back wide eyed.
"Just say the word."
She considers it. Pondering the idea of leaving while eyeing the glossy countertop.
"Here you are," Nancy announces, pushing a thin martini glass in front of Ash while staring up at the corpse on the top floor. A slight disdain touches the corners of her eyes and mouth. Allure staff is already hauling the body away.
Her attention is back on Ashlen in an instant, "Go on. Tell me what you think."
Ash blinks at her a bit dazed, probably trying to forget or process what she just saw. She shakes it off quickly and forces a weak smile. Her neck cranes over to peer directly into the dark syrupy contents. She grabs the stem and playfully swirls it twice then looks to both of us tilting the glass, "Cheers."
Delicate lips press to the edge as she tips it back. She actually makes it look savory as it slides into her mouth. I'm mesmerized by her as she closes her eyes, wispy lashes brushing her cheeks as she swallows.
The tip of her cute tongue peeks out to trace her lip as she sets the glass down with a tiny clink.
"Well, Sam," her wondrous eyes swapping from yellow to hazel slide over to mine, "looks like you're just a princess. It's actually pretty good."
Smirk at her sideways as she dips in a finger and sweeps it around the glass. She slips the finger in her mouth and slides it out with a pop. Nancy leans back on her haunches with smug satisfaction, silently declaring herself the winner.
I shake my head, "I'd rather chug a live rat. Anything with a pulse is better than that garbage."
Ashlen dry heaves as Nancy's shoulders lightly bounce.
"In that case," Nancy smirks, "I'll check the traps and have something special for you, Sam."
I grin back, but worry she's not entirely joking.
"Well… If it isn't the devil himself."
I tense at the sound of a distinctly provocative voice that I prayed I'd never here again. My nostrils flare and stare blankly at the lit up lines behind the bar. An undesirable presence slinks to my backside.
I close my eyes and grumble, "Bets."
I focus my attention straight head but catch Ashlen turn to me in puzzlement, "We're gambling? What are we betting… Oh."
I watch Ashlen out of the corner of my eye as she warily scales the figure looming behind me.
Two hands slide over my shoulders, around my neck and down my chest, nails digging into the fabric as they descend. I clench my jaw and wrinkle my nose.
Fantastic, it's times like these when I wonder if the universe really has it out for me.