A lost soul wandered down the black and white streets of death.
They were soundless and empty, so full of nothing that he could cry. The hot and humid air was stifling him, but nothing mattered anymore.
He walked and walked until he heard something.
He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to the right.
Through all the emptiness, he had finally come to something.
There was a gargantuan sign over the doorway that read 'Welcome to the House of Wolves'.
The lack of light made it look almost aflame.
The music pouring from the slightly open double doors was hauntingly beautiful.
It was jazz.
The bass made his head hurt in a good way, and the singer's smoky voice pierced his soul.
He couldn't resist it.
He pushed the left door open and stepped through.
The interior was surprisingly big, and choked with people.
There was smoke clogging the air, and the red lights made it look like blood rising through the open roof of the club.
People danced, spinning around and around almost endlessly.
The few people who weren't dancing were sitting at the bar, smoking.
"Where am I?" the soul asked a perky-looking woman who spun by him in time to the music.
"Why, the House of Wolves of course!" she said, smiling.
The soul stood in the doorway awhile, observing.
The people at the bar never got up to dance, and the dancers never sat down to drink.
The soul supposed it was a choice, some kind of moral thing.
A woman came in behind him.
He told her his observations, and asked what she would do.
"Dance," she whispered in his ear, before taking him by the arm and pulling him out to the floor.
Another thing the soul noticed, something that terrified him, was that everyone's faces were the same.
No differences, nothing at all.
This scared the soul, and he wanted to leave. He wanted to leave with all his heart but something kept him glued to the floor.
He couldn't break away.
He was locked in the dance.
He was locked in the dance forever, and nothing could save him.
"Welcome to purgatory," the woman he was dancing with said.
A/N: Please review!