By Dennis Booth II

The music blared hard and loud through the speakers, making the entire building vibrate. Dust filtered down from their cobwebbed woofer's, only to be replaced by the passing waiter's as they withdrew their handy spray can of cobwebs, creating hovering grey clouds in the air for a moment before they settled down onto the large black reverberating coffin shaped boxes. The Dissention, a rather exclusive night club for the more darkly inclined clubber, was by no means one of those standard warehouse sized underground places. Complete with open plan dance space, mosch pit, a stage for performing DJ's, musical act's and more alcohol than could be imagined, It was frequented by a clientele who were very particular about the noise level of their music. Namely, they liked it loud, hard, and fast.

And dark. Let's not forget the darkness now.

The entire building was alive with sweating gyrating teenagers, wannabe teenagers and balding 30+ 'teenagers' in various forms of intoxication or unconsciousness. The entire room was a mass of sweat and meat, bouncing around in time with the music, or in some cases, in time with some unknown internal rhythm. While no one actually smoked, due to the intensely stringent rules maintained by the management, a kind of misty haze waded its way through the crowd, creating both an eerie atmosphere, and causing the masses to become even more heated and frenzied. In the shadows around the edge of the club, couples jammed themselves even closer together both on and off the blood red furniture, enjoying the darkness as much as each other's bodies. Hands, fingers, limbs, tongues and other bodily parts flowed over the adjacent body, sometimes reaching out to draw new players into their games. Even in the very centre of the club, people were jammed together harshly, enjoying the taste of their neighbours. In the pit where the more hardcore audience thrashed away, people alternated between fighting and taking girls against the wall, although most of the girls either sent them flying, or turned the tables and took control for themselves. It was a shrine to carnality, a haven for the hot, and the horny. With absolutely no police inspection, and the management's ever-keen eye for trouble or people who broke the rules, this place was a haven for people who knew exactly what they wanted. To enjoy themselves fully without any kind of threat to themselves. No wonder it was so bloody expensive to get in here.

Giselle waded through the trance-ridden clubbers, although bounced might be a better word, making out with everyone and everything which was in her way. One moment she was grinding away with a huge man in black jeans nearly twice her size, next she was tonguing a leather clad Goth chick, having her rear spanked by one of the Rockers, and getting a admiring look from a large group of men out on the pull. It had been her idea to visit the Dissention, as there were very few nightclubs out there that had the special services for the darker kind of Clientele. Her kind of Clientele. Although the majority of people were either too weak or too easy, she just loved coming here. It was like an all you can eat festival only eating wasn't really on her mind, and it was all night every night.

Pity the admission was so high.

Very few people had ever investigated the club, or for that matter had even heard about it (except from a friend of a friend who's friend mysteriously disappeared and then reappeared some day's later, and now wore black makeup, spoke in an eerie calm voice, and seemed to float around the house a bit). But those that had discovered it and weren't supposed to soon learned to forget about it, or they themselves would end up being forgotten.

The Dissention wasn't a place for the normal kind of person. In fact, it wasn't a place for any kind of people at all. It was ran by things which could only loosely be called people, and very certainly not human.

It also served as a home for a small number of those same things, who's number included Giselle, her associates, and of course the creature known as Black.

Miss Black, as she decided to be named for the time being, observed the heaving throbbing crowd through the tinted windows, smiling to herself. Her smooth aquiline features gave off a slightly tribal air in the low-lit office, which she inhabited. Her smooth brown skin seemed almost like that of a marble statue, helped by the harsh flashes of Neon Blue from below. Humans, so easy to trick, and often so willing too. It had been one of her idea's to open this place, to create a breeding ground for carnality and the more delicious evil's. Get them when they were young that was the key, as most Demons liked to do. After all, most of the Demons which had populated the hell's had originally been human, before being changed to creatures of darkness.

Well, not her of course. Not a creature of the Abyss.

She smiled silkily as she regarded the heaving throng through the one-way window; her black lip's curling into the faintest of smiles. It was like having your very own open larder, where people actually paid you to become your food. How she had laughed when the idea first came to her, and how she laughed now, as she made staggering amounts from such a simple plan. A long thin silver tongue flicked out instinctively as the thought echoed around Black's eldritch mind.

She turned from the delightful site of human stupidity to her own rather more personal prey. The girl was about 16, short, and of an oriental persuasion. Black had picked her out to be turned for that very simple reason indeed. Asian females, their air of grace, their delicate frames, and their air of almost willing servitude had always fascinated her. And for her that was a very useful thing indeed...

She slinked towards the short haired girl, smiling as her struggling increased, the chain's binding her wrists from the ceiling twisting as she tried to move away from the approaching creature.

Black smiled predatorily as she stroked the girl's short chocolate brown hair, running the silken soft strands between her fingers, grazing the girl's scalp with a long black nail. She then wound her fingers in deeply and pulled, yanking the girls head back so her eyes would meet the two dark ovals of glass covering her tormentor's eyes. Black's lips parted slightly, giving the girl a glimpse of two long white canines, before everything went dark, leaving only a brief sensation of pain.

Rainiana wasn't quite as direct as Giselle, but she too was enjoying herself, prowling round the bar and the outer areas of the club, making out with every guy she could grab. She was Giselle's partner in crime so to speak, but not her partner in any other way. Despite various devious advances the pink haired lunatic tried to pull on Rainiana, she just ended up bitter, cranky, and pining for some vodka. However, they did have fun working together, and this place was definitely a great place to hang out.

She glanced over to where she last say Giselle, and spotted her drag a Ska girl over to the darkly lit side of the club where she sat with her on a dark red couch and made out with her. Rainiana rolled her eyes and wondered briefly why most females here were more interested in necking each other than actually consider the opposite sex.

"Must be something in the water," she muttered before turning to the next stud muffin.

Rainiana was also, like Giselle and many of the other people in the Dissention, a Demon. In specific terms, she was a Harpy, known to many as a menace and a dangerous predator of lost men. Which suited her needs just fine. Unlike Giselle, she had very little interest in other females, especially in the physical sense. Her breed had been created for the torment of men, a job to which she took very well indeed.

Giselle on the other hand was also something else. A Succubus, a female demon born with the sole aim of corrupting the souls of men using her sexual charms. However, because of the incredible sexual drive of Succubi, most also diverted their attention's to the female sex as well. Due to their open minds, powerful lust, insatiable habits, and incredibly flexible bodies, Succubi were seen in the Hell's as something of a luxury, and many of the more powerful creatures used them as pets and slaves, something that Giselle would probably never have any qualms about.

Rainiana smirked in pleasure as she came across a handsome young man in the dark, leaning by the wall of the room with a bottle in his hand. She slinked up to him and immediately pressed her body against his, kissing him very slowly as she took him by surprise. She then pulled back and smiled sweetly, and blowing him a kiss, disappeared into the crowd.

It took him about twelve seconds to realise that the bottle he had been drinking from was no-where to be seen.


Jen, Mel, and Ragz waded through the throng, gazing in awe around them. They'd heard stories of this place, but they had never realised it would be this large. As they'd drove up the hillside and into the large car park hidden at the peak, the club had looked like a small hut in the middle of nowhere, designed to be as innocuous as possible. When they finally stepped through the large lead lined doors however, they were greeted with a sight that was anything but. Long row's of steps made from black marble, leading down into an underground lobby, with extremely gothic torches lighting the way down greeted them as they began to descend, giving off a truly unbelievable atmosphere. The three girls had decided to do their best to dress to impress while they were here, and had really enjoyed the 'before party' party at Jen's home where they were 'Gothing Out' as Ragz had put it at the time. They'd drove out in Jen's car and picked up a large amount of drinks, and had been playing music so loud that Ragz had complained of a minor headache half an hour into the proceedings. After cruising round the town for a bit they eventually set of down the dusty motorway, and passed at the intersection. About 5 minutes driving through the desert and then they were there. They'd checked themselves in the car mirror and applied the finishing touches to their makeup and widow's veils before stepping out and walking towards the doors. They were all wearing pale makeup with very pouty black lipstick, with matching eyeliner, which Mel liked to think made her look like an Egyptian goddess, while Ragz made her think it looked like she was a whore. Which she didn't mind. It was meant to be a night out after all, and the three girls were meant to be as 'out there' as possible, and this place would certainly suit their needs.

The doorman was a huge guy who looked like he'd been made using a mixture of bricks and bull's organs, with a side helping of muscle to go. They paid up the pretty high entry fee and he let them in. Then they stood for a moment and gaped in awe at the huge cavern that greeted them. The Dissention was basically a huge underground room, made out to look and feel like a crypt. Hundreds of candles, which were actually electric lamps flickered softy, lighting the walls while the neon lighting of the bar and the stage effects shot violently across the crowd, flickering the air in time with the fast loud beat.

Jen nearly fainted as a huge guy with arms like watermelons moved past her, her eyes devouring him while she drooled after the guy. Mel smacked her over the head lightly and gave the guy a yearning glance before dragging Jen and Ragz to the bar.

Normally the three girls would have never considered going to a club like this, certainly not dressed as Goths, which none of them were, but they had heard a story in their class recently about the dark club out in the desert, and had instantly become spellbound. Never in their lives had they thought of going to such a place, but all those years of being the typical school girls had finally taken its toll, and they felt the need for at least one night to make a complete break and do something completely out of character. Thus they had dressed in the most extreme and outlandish clothes they could conceive, bearing in mind the types of people who wouldn't normally show their faces there, and set off into the night.


Meanwhile, above the huge pit of noise, light, and action, events were continuing to unfold.

The girl's head dropped to the table as she finally lost consciousness, two small puncture marks on the side of her neck being the only sign's of her captor's attack. Black unlocked the chains from around the girls' wrists and scooped her up, carrying her weight easily as if she was nothing. She carried her past the long black table on which she had been held, and through into a connecting room. It was a large candle lit stone shrine, a far cry from the high tech décor of the office. The room was designed in a stepped fashion, as if someone had taken a solid chunk of stone and had carved out regularly growing slices, which worked their way up until the entire floor seemed to sink into the depths. Because of the design Black had to step down the stone steps with her captive in her arms in order to get to the dark shrouded altar at the bottom.

As she proceeded down the steps, the cold dark room slowly began to fill with light, as candles strategically placed along the steps began to light as she passed by. As the room filled with light, a long stone table was made clear at the bottom, an altar, and the central point of the underground tomb. Dominating the chamber at its head was a large black marble statue of a cat; it's cold black eyes staring down at the altar where Black laid the girl. It was smooth and very stylised, Egyptian in Origin, as Black herself was. In some respects. After placing the unconscious girl on the altar she then proceed to strip her, removing the thin brown leather coat, her small matching top and skirt, her boots, and taking great pleasure with the thin black panties. She then went around the edge of the altar, lighting each of the 4 long black candles as she passed them. She picked up small black velvet back and slipped her hand inside, removing a small amount of what looked like purple dust. She lightly scattered the dust over the unconscious girl watching it settle, and threw the remaining dust in the air, watching it ignite like gunpowder when it came into contact with the candle flames. As this happened she began to chant in a soft whispering voice, almost insubstantial as she continued with the macabre ceremony. She picked up a long thin ornamental knife with a black handle, and held her wrist over the girl. She pressed the edge of the knife into the smooth brown flesh, releasing a light trickle of blood, which hit the girls' forehead, and mixed with the trail of purple dust, causing a faint hissing sound. The girls whimpered and writhed in her sleep, a mixture of pain and understandable fear across her face. Black smiled at the girls' discomfort, and then proceeded to chant louder.


Jen squeezed between the last two dancers and managed to find herself at the considerable length of the bar. The neon blue strip of light running across the edge of the smooth metal surface gave the gothic place a much needed 'ultra-modern' look. Her eyes ran over the seemingly endless rows of bottles, cans, and glasses, an amazing variety that made her mouth water.

"Ok," said Mel as she eyed the mammoth selection, "you're buying." Jen turned around and looked at her surprised.

"And why am I buying?"

"Because you're the one who suggested we came her, you're the one who led the way, you're the leader of this group, so you should buy the drinks. "She grinned widely at Jen, while Ragz smirked at her. Jen rolled her eyes and submitted.

"Right, ok I'm buying. Don't think I'm the only one who's paying anything tonight though."

Mel and Ragz looked at each other and grinned triumphantly. Jen glowered at them and gestured to the tables and sofa's running around the outside wall.

"Go get a few seats for us so we can drink these, ok?" The two girls nodded and waded through the crowd, while Jen turned back to the bar and waited for the waiter to come round. Eventually a young broad shouldered man in white shirt and black waistcoat came over to her and asked for her order.

"Erm, Three WKD's please."

The attendant looked at her oddly for a moment before shrugging and turning round to head to the relevant cooler. He came back a moment later with the drinks, and the price.

"£11.50?" she asked in surprise. He looked at her wearily, not one to dispute the prices the Management dished out with a naive newbie. She sulked for a moment before delving into the red velvet purse she bought for the occasion and withdrew the money somewhat reluctantly. The attendant took it, rang it up in the till, and gave her the change.

"Right," She said to herself as she looked down at the drinks for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She looked over to where she could just see Mel and Ragz sat on the dark wine sofas in the darkened edge of the club. She picked up the drinks, one in each hand, with the third nestled in the crook of her arm, and proceeded to wade through the still dancing clubbers. As she made her way past she stumbled slightly and knocked into someone who was walking past. She looked up as the figure turned round and she apologised. The tall thin young man looked at her blankly for a moment, making her feel a little bit uncomfortable, before walking off, continuing in the direction he went. For a moment she just stood there, a slight chill running through her from the gaze. For the smallest of moments she had felt afraid. Of what she couldn't be sure, but there had certainly been something there, behind those dark glasses....

The moment passed and she pulled herself together, continuing over to the couch were Mel and Ragz were busy chatting with a smiling cheerful girl with a huge amount of frizzy pink hair on her head.

"Hey, here's those drinks you wanted," said Jen, passing two of the can's too her friends. She looked dup at the girl and smiled at her politely. "Hi, my names Jen." She looked at her two friends wearily. "You've obviously met Mel and Ragz."

"Yeah, we've been having a great time haven't we girls," Said the very pink girl grinning, a broad husky voice flowing over Jen. She stood up and shook her hand rapidly before she could say any more.

"Nice to meet ya. Ah hope your enjoying yourself."

She flopped down onto one of the couches next to Ragz and beamed widely at Jen.

"Oh but please do excuse me, I forgot to introduce mahself. Please forgive me. Ahm a regular around here and I couldn't help but say hello to some new faces. Just call me Giselle."


Black threw up her head at the black marble statue, chanting in a tongue that was approximately 7000 years old. The trail of purple powder and her own blood had inflicted a horrific effect on the terrified girl. Her body had gone into spasms, the skin where the mixture had hit hissing and steaming lightly. Occasionally a half formed scream would escape her lips but she was unable to stop the burning fire that trailed from her brain and burned down into her inner core. Black withdrew a large black cover made from silk, pulling it over the sides of the Alter and covering the struggling girl. She then picked up a small thin container, similar in shape to a Canopic jar used by the Egyptians when performing their Mummification Ceremonies. The purpose of the jar however was not to contain the long dead organs of living creatures, but to imbed a being with their very own new ones.

She unscrewed the carved top and carefully poured out a sweet smelling red substance. The instant it touched the silk cover, a huge hissing sound was heard and the girl's voice screamed out in intense pain, this time fully recovered from Black's bite and awake, terrified and in almost blinding agony. Black's chanting grew in intensity, matching the rising level of noise form the trapped girl struggling to escape from the thin silk barrier that she seemed unable to penetrate. The hissing also rose in intensity as deep purple mist rose from the altar, shrouding the girl and severely reducing the visibility in the room. The mist seemed almost alive, flowing together in unusual patters, forming images, faces, ideas, feelings. All of which were beyond horrific.

As Black's chanting reached its crescendo, the girl's wailings slowly died out, and the only sound in the room was that of a laboured breathing. The heavy mist had settled to form a cover over the altar, leaving Black stood up to her waist in a purple sea. The mist seemed to flow over her lower body, and to an outside observer, it could seem to be almost physically touching her, flowing across her leg's and waist smoothly, almost sensual. The African/Egyptian woman reached down into the cold depths and withdrew the Canopic jar again, unsealing the lid. The mist stopped its slow sensual administrations and then came back to life as it was sucked into the small container, rapidly vacating the now silent room. Black re-sealed the lid and replaced the jar reverently alongside the other items she had used, and finally stepped over to the girl.

Her breathing was nonexistent now, a sure sign that whatever life had been there before was now certainly gone. Black's fingers curled around the corner of the silk covering and pulled it aside, revealing the still girl in her small yet touching beauty. There was no rise or fall of her chest, no sign of movement from her body, not the slightest trace of her ever being alive. All that remained was a cold, yet beautiful statue. An Oriental piece of porcelain, tragic, ageless, flawless.

Then her eyes opened.