In every city that can boast a true nightlife there is always a club that is not what it seems. It's a place where the patrons sneer at the very concept of life as if it was a toy to be
played with and then simply thrown away when the interest in it is lost. They are the powerfully dark creatures of the underworld, the children of the darkness that wear the night
around their bodies like the exotic silks and rich furs of the high rolling crowd.
And there is always someone fueling them, providing them with the means to play with the lives that they do. The sleeping partner that watches from the shadows, feeding upon the
carnage and corruption that their creations wreak upon the world.
For Milwaukee that club was The Spiral.
On the outside it looked like just another rundown building made of chipped, faded red brick with a long dead strand of climbing ivy clinging to its side. Its three stories was nothing
huge but gave it more than slightly foreboding look. The large glowing neon sign that spelled out the clubs name bathed the sidewalk and street in front of it in an eerie greenish glow
that often sent people hurrying by with shivers running like ice down their spines.
On the inside it was a whole different story.
Inside its doors the décor was a clash between what could have been a club for aristocrats and gothic punk rockers. When one walked inside they would find on the first floor a
large bar that stood like an island in the middle of the floor. Its dark wood paneling gleamed under the soft glow of the lights that hung from the ceiling. Carved into the fine wood
were strange symbols. One that looked like the beginning of a spiral but then broke off into multiple twists and slashes. Another that looked like the symbol for anarchy but really
you know that wasn't what it stood for at all. Along the walls were plush booths and tables that were draped with thick black velvet and accented with spidery black lace. The floor
was covered with a deep red colored wood that, coupled with the lighting, made it seem that when moving across the floor one was actually walking through a thin layer of blood. A
strip of thick carpet stretched from the entrance and lead towards the stairs to the second floor where the sounds of heavy dance music rolled down the stairs to meet the arriving
guest. About half way between the entrance and the stairs was a large white marble fountain, its stone body gleamed an almost blinding white against the dark surroundings. The
gentle splash of liquid was oddly muted in the large echoing room and should one happen to glance into the fountain as they passed by they would notice that the liquid inside had a
very interesting shade of greenish molten yellow to it that bubbled slightly at the edges. If that same person looked even deeper into the fountain they would notice that a yellow toxic
sign was printed on the bottom of the basin for it was not water that splashed and gurgled so happily in that fountain, it was toxic waste.
Most new comers looking for a new drinking hole never make it past the fountain. But for the few brave souls that decided to venture up the dark staircase, and had the spine to do
it, they couldn't help but wonder what in the hell happened to Kansas. Black lights hidden in the walls flickered on and off in the dark, flashing on to reveal the hidden images of
twisted grotesque creatures with too many limbs and exotically beautiful men and women with over sized canines. At the head of the stairs thin silver chains hang down to form a
curtain that shielded the room from view. Beyond was a punk dream. A few feet away from the door was a long black bar lined with red leather covered stools. Behind the bar
bottles covered the back wall, some of their contents glowing in the black light that illuminated their labels. Over head a rack hung from thick chains where some of the glasses were
kept while not in use. Across the room was a stage that held multiple guitar/bass stands and a shiny midnight blue drum set. Wild eyed musicians wielded their instruments like
swords or clubs as they tore the cords from the vibrating strings and flung them out at the audience. Candelabras hung from the ceiling and stood like burning angels in dark corners
of the room. Two cages hung suspended in the air on either sided of the stage and fog machines hidden at the base of the stage, spewed their wispy clouds out onto the floor among
the dances legs. Along one of the side wall there stood four doors. One was simply marked employees only and lead to the third floor where the offices were kept. A second was a
bathroom but the remaining two were private booths that contained a light, a mirror and black satin chaise. There was also a little shelf with a box of Kleenex and next to the light
switch was a small button. These rooms were designed solely with the clubs high vampire patronage. The button was connected to a prompter so that when a vampire was finished
with a "guest" they could simply press the button and someone would take care of it.
In every city there is a night club that is run by the shadier characters that in habit that area, for Milwaukee it was the BSD's, the black spiral dancers.