It was late by the time she discovered the club. Stairs led down and down and down, funnelling the beat of the music up like a siren call. Industrial pipes ran overhead and the air was thick with human heat and cigarette smoke. Cold concrete walls drifted beneath her fingertips. Strobe lights flashed as she slipped into the crowd below. The acoustics drew her, filled the alcohol-numbness with something more content as she fell into the beat.

Natalie, A Night to Forget

A cult-status nightclub known primarily for its all-night raves. It’s also a venue dogged by persistent tales of disappearances, and regularly investigated by the CDPS. Locals say the devil himself walks the tunnels and snatches patrons to his liking, though to what purpose the rumours generally disagree. Regulars know not to wander too far from the relative safety of the noise and lights, but newcomers are usually curious to test their mettle against the urban legends that surround the place.

In reality, the Devil’s Lair is a regular hunting ground for various creatures; particularly the sort that can pass for human.

The entrance is primarily accessed through a disused metro station. Scrawled neon graffiti marks the way from there. There are no obvious signs until the final door, but at some point patrons can simply follow the loud music downwards. Security is generally lax.

The club itself is part abandoned subway, and part undercity tunnels. The only available bar is industrial, with a limited offering of drinks and recreational drugs. Decoration is sparse and mostly relies on strobes and coloured lights flooding the concrete walls and metal grates. The air is often hazy with smoke. Astute or curious customers might notice scrawled graffiti and odd neon signs that regularly shift or disappear between visits. Some of them are warnings. It fuels the club’s strange mystique.

Owing to the location the acoustics are phenomenal, the club’s major draw.

There are no quiet places to talk, and no seating arrangements. It is a place of heat, bodies, rhythm, and instinct.

She pushed her way out of the crowd and into the relative quiet of a darkened hallway. One of those places couples sneak off to to be alone except coming down here usually had its disadvantages. Too many had gone missing. Regulars knew. New comers not so much. But the pretty little blond she didn’t look totally with it.

A Night to Forget

For those looking to sneak off to a quieter place, whether to take drugs or fuck a stranger, there is no option but the tunnels that lead deeper into the undercity. It proves a popular diversion, despite the obvious danger.




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