come from the other side of the doors, but they hold fast.
I am in a small area, with just a flight of wooden stairs that heads upward. The lighting is low and the carpet is dark coloured. The walls are red; giving the stairwell a soft glow.
As my breathing recovers, the sweat starts pours off me, and I use my left hand to mop my face. I have never done this much running.
I start climbing the stairs slowly. The still dripping axe is raised and ready.
There is a small desk at the top of the stairs on the diminutive landing, with a single, empty chair behind it.
To the left is another set of double doors. They look heavy, like fire doors, but are painted black.
I try to use my foot to push one half of the door open a little; the axe ready to hit out at anything that appears, but the door is too heavy. I push harder and have to step forward as I do so. Then the door yields and slowly opens.
The sound of disco music drifts out, getting louder as I push open the door. I pause for a second, then I keep pushing, trying to peer through as the gap widens.
Slowly, I get a view of the inside as I step in; the door resting against my shoulder. I look about, taking it all in, totally stunned.
The room is much bigger than I expected. The inside is dark with chairs and tables in small groups. There is a bar running down the right side, discreet back lighting, glass shelves - no beer taps or optics. Lining the shelves are spirit bottles with old-fashioned metal pouring spouts stuck in the top.
There are small, orange ceiling lights above the seating area.
Ahead is a catwalk with a stage behind it. There are two long metal poles running floor to ceiling on the catwalk, and the back of the stage has a dark red, velvet curtain. The catwalk comes out into the middle of the room, and the seating is arranged round it; there are fixed seats running around the edge of the catwalk.
The disco music is beating on; like retro porn music. There are flashing red lights around the stage, and fixed spotlights shining down onto the metal poles.
This is amazing, but the most stunning thing is the undead on the stage.
An adult female wearing just a thong! Some kind of collar is round her neck with a chain running behind her, through the curtains.
She has seen me and is straining, The collar keeps jerking her back every time she tries to move forward but her massive, fake breasts remain motionless, despite her frantic lunges.
‘What the fuck…?’
I step in and close the door. I am not that close, but I can see that the collar is thick; almost the size of her neck. The chain looks thick too. I’ve never been to a lap dancing place or a strip club before. I didn’t even know this was here.
It looks expensive and the seats all look new and very plush. On my left and at the back of the club there is a raised booth with a fixed microphone on a stand, facing out into the main area.
There is a man lying still and slumped, with his back against the wall of the booth. I edge towards him with the axe raised. He doesn’t look undead ; he just looks dead - like a normal dead person.
As I get closer, I see that he is wearing a dark suit with a white shirt underneath. He looks very smart.
A knife is buried into his chest to the hilt. The black handle doesn’t look big, only a few inches long. There is a small blood stain on the front of his white shirt. One knee is raised up and the other leg is extended out. I kick the extended foot, but there is no reaction. I kick again, harder - still no reaction.
I lean forward slowly and use the axe to nudge him on the shoulder. He slumps over onto his side; the knife is stuck in his chest. I gently put my fingers to his neck; no pulse. I lift one of his eyelids… his eyes are lifeless, but at least the white surrounding the iris is still white. I can’t see any other injury on him, and his skin feels very cold. He must have been dead for a
I am in a small area, with just a flight of wooden stairs that heads upward. The lighting is low and the carpet is dark coloured. The walls are red; giving the stairwell a soft glow.
As my breathing recovers, the sweat starts pours off me, and I use my left hand to mop my face. I have never done this much running.
I start climbing the stairs slowly. The still dripping axe is raised and ready.
There is a small desk at the top of the stairs on the diminutive landing, with a single, empty chair behind it.
To the left is another set of double doors. They look heavy, like fire doors, but are painted black.
I try to use my foot to push one half of the door open a little; the axe ready to hit out at anything that appears, but the door is too heavy. I push harder and have to step forward as I do so. Then the door yields and slowly opens.
The sound of disco music drifts out, getting louder as I push open the door. I pause for a second, then I keep pushing, trying to peer through as the gap widens.
Slowly, I get a view of the inside as I step in; the door resting against my shoulder. I look about, taking it all in, totally stunned.
The room is much bigger than I expected. The inside is dark with chairs and tables in small groups. There is a bar running down the right side, discreet back lighting, glass shelves - no beer taps or optics. Lining the shelves are spirit bottles with old-fashioned metal pouring spouts stuck in the top.
There are small, orange ceiling lights above the seating area.
Ahead is a catwalk with a stage behind it. There are two long metal poles running floor to ceiling on the catwalk, and the back of the stage has a dark red, velvet curtain. The catwalk comes out into the middle of the room, and the seating is arranged round it; there are fixed seats running around the edge of the catwalk.
The disco music is beating on; like retro porn music. There are flashing red lights around the stage, and fixed spotlights shining down onto the metal poles.
This is amazing, but the most stunning thing is the undead on the stage.
An adult female wearing just a thong! Some kind of collar is round her neck with a chain running behind her, through the curtains.
She has seen me and is straining, The collar keeps jerking her back every time she tries to move forward but her massive, fake breasts remain motionless, despite her frantic lunges.
‘What the fuck…?’
I step in and close the door. I am not that close, but I can see that the collar is thick; almost the size of her neck. The chain looks thick too. I’ve never been to a lap dancing place or a strip club before. I didn’t even know this was here.
It looks expensive and the seats all look new and very plush. On my left and at the back of the club there is a raised booth with a fixed microphone on a stand, facing out into the main area.
There is a man lying still and slumped, with his back against the wall of the booth. I edge towards him with the axe raised. He doesn’t look undead ; he just looks dead - like a normal dead person.
As I get closer, I see that he is wearing a dark suit with a white shirt underneath. He looks very smart.
A knife is buried into his chest to the hilt. The black handle doesn’t look big, only a few inches long. There is a small blood stain on the front of his white shirt. One knee is raised up and the other leg is extended out. I kick the extended foot, but there is no reaction. I kick again, harder - still no reaction.
I lean forward slowly and use the axe to nudge him on the shoulder. He slumps over onto his side; the knife is stuck in his chest. I gently put my fingers to his neck; no pulse. I lift one of his eyelids… his eyes are lifeless, but at least the white surrounding the iris is still white. I can’t see any other injury on him, and his skin feels very cold. He must have been dead for a
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