36Once, the building had been a church, a bastion of the morally upright and the spiritually devout in the city of New York. Dominating West Twentieth Street on corner of the Avenue of the Americas, the building retained much of its Catholic design. Brown stonework made up the exterior walls, remarkably untouched by graffiti. The wide double doors that opened onto Twentieth Street were still painted in brilliant crimson. Even the stained glass windows remained intact, showing glimpses of Saints and holy figures through flashes of light from the interior. Once, it had been a grand place of worship for lower Manhattan.
Now, worship continued at the old church, but worship of a far different sort. Heavy, fast paced industrial music rose to deafening levels, shaking the thick panes of the leaded glass. Colored light flashed spasmodically through the old windows, distorting the depictions of saints and holy men into something demonic. The double doors of the church front opened regularly, allowing glimpses into a dark pit of seething humanity, while the few comprehensible lines of the music boldly proclaimed the death of God to the world. Catholics had been replaced by Satanists and atheists waiting in line at the narrow entrance set on the left side of the old building.
To Alexei Karamov, Catholics and Satanists meant nothing to him, nor did the current condition of the defiled church known to the people of Manhattan as the Limelight. As his black Lexus pulled to the curb of West Twentieth Street, Karamov peered through the passenger side window of the vehicle, absorbing every detail of the church and the young crowd waiting to gain entrance. The line was long, but not overly so, dominated by teens and young twentysomethings decked out in skin tight black vinyl and leather, their hair alternately long or short, dyed in a range of colors from midnight black to pale white. Pale white makeup and black lipstick and nail polish completed the ensembles of both men and women, decked out in their most Gothic clothing for a Saturday night break from the real world. Alexei Karamov took stock of the crowd waiting at the door, and sighed in resignation. Slowly he turned to the driver of the car.
"Should I come in with you, sir?" the driver asked. He was a younger man, only in his early twenties, with sharp hazel eyes and light brown hair swept back from his handsome face. Although it was nearly imperceptible, Alexei could pick up on the apprehension
"And how far do you think you would get with the Glocks tucked under your suit jacket, Max?" Alexei inquired with a slight smirk.
"I don't always have to use the Glocks," Max stated. Alexei's smirk broadened ever so slightly. "And, in situations like these, firepower is sometimes unwarranted."
"That's quite alright," Alexei stated, turning to the door. "I prefer to handle this myself. Just have the car running and ready to go when I come out."
"Not a problem," Max said with a nod. Alexei Karamov opened the passenger door of the Lexus, and stepped out onto the curb.
Alexei took one more look at the door crowd, whatever humor he had shown to his driver fading into stony stoicism. Once he entered the club, he would be easily identifiable by his mere appearance. While the typical clubgoer was no older than twenty-four, Alexei was thirty-four. Sharply contrasting their Gothic hairstyles, Alexei kept his brown hair cut short and neatly parted on the left side. Many of the clubgoers tried to appear menacing or devious, but something in Alexei's piercing, cold blue eyes ran far deeper than the shallow poseurs around him. No makeup marred his face or fingernails. Finally, and most strikingly, Alexei dressed in a simple, charcoal gray suit and knee length woolen overcoat, a far cry from the wild dress codes that the clubgoers adhered to. Despite his out of place, conservative appearance, Alexei Karamov strode purposefully to the entrance, bypassing the line completely on his way to the front doors. The Goths waiting in line watched him pass with mixed anger and curiosity, but his confident demeanor and his radically different appearance kept them from saying anything at all to him. Alexei walked into the tiny foyer without so much as a look over his shoulder, stopping only as he met the bouncer at the base of a narrow staircase leading up into the Limelight. He was a large man, slightly pot bellied but still powerfully built, his skin as black as night and his hair loosely organized into dreadlocks. Standing a shade under six feet tall, Alexei still had to look up to the bouncer as the man got in his way.
"Hold your arms out," the bouncer instructed. Alexei did as he was told, and the bouncer quickly ran a metal detector up and down each side of his body. Finding nothing metallic under the knee length overcoat, the bouncer waved Alexei past, and he started easily up the stairs, his stoic, confident look still in place. At the top of the staircase, nearly hidden in the darkness of the antechamber at the top of the staircase, Alexei wordlessly turned over the twenty-five dollar cover charge, ignoring the curious and slightly indignant stare of the weasely looking girl taking door fees. With his cover paid and his hand stamped with black light ink, Alexei turned to the narrow double doors of the Limelight, and pushed them open.
Deafening music assaulted him as he walked into the narrow, winding hallway that led to the first of many bars set up inside the labyrinthine Limelight. Flashes of blue and green light swept over him at quick, irregular intervals as he walked past the badly beaten vinyl couches lining the wall to his right. Some clubgoers that rested on the couches watched the out of place, middle aged businessman walk past, many most remained in their own private worlds of sex, drugs and alcohol. Couples ground against each other in dark corners, while another pair of girls that could be no older than seventeen dropped hits of XTC openly in front of him. Alexei walked through the circus around him with no trace of emotion, or even acknowledgement. He made his way to the bar and dropped a ten on the counter, ignoring the seductive wink of a girl with dyed black hair and a skin tight vinyl dress two stools away. The bartender gave him his requested drink after another moment, and Alexei Karamov made his way back through the crowds with a bourbon neat. Reaching the rail of the second level, Alexei Karamov found himself gazing out over a sea of writhing, gyrating youngsters, dancing wildly to the bizarre looking, industrial metal band on the performance stage. Alexei's piercing blue eyes swept across the tiers and dance floor of the Limelight, searching the murky, indistinct crowds for one specific person.
Alexei found his mark as he looked up to the highest tier across the club. Partially hidden by the flashing lights and the people around her was a fifteen year old girl, her brown hair remarkably undyed despite the black lipstick, leather halter top, and spiked dog collar that she wore. The girl seemed almost frightened of the scene around her; her dark eyes darted from side to side quickly as she shrank back on the tattered black couch set against the far wall. Alexei watched her for a long moment, making certain that this was the girl he had come for, then placed his untouched drink on the flat wooden rail and started for the steps that ran down to the main dance floor.
From his vantage point on the stairs, Alexei could still see over the entire dance floor, but he also became painstakingly obvious to the people around him. Still Alexei descended the stairs with a confident stride, his steps measured and even. From the middle of the dance floor, movement caught his eye even through the abyss of Goths and punks. Another man, dressed in a studded leather jacket and wearing black shades, was fighting his way through the crowds, pushing frantically for the narrow metal stairs that led to the far tiers and the girl that waited atop them. Keeping his steady pace, Alexei made his way calmly through the dancing crowds, gently pushing obstacles aside as they appeared. In slightly over a minute he had made his way to the stairs, but within that time two huge, crew cut men had come to stand in the way. Each man was a mountain of steroid enhanced muscles, their necks lost in their overdeveloped shoulders and chests. Alexei came to a momentary stop in front of them, sizing up his ogre sized opponents.
"No admittance," one said, folding his massive arms across his chest. The other sneered slightly, making him look overly stupid.
"Excuse me," Alexei said simply, starting to cut between the two men. The speaker shoved him back with an open palm. Alexei stumbled back a step, and leveled an angry glare on the two men. Shadows deepened and stretched around him, while his eyes lit with a chill blue fire. Everything about Alexei became ten times more frightening, and even the two musclebound bouncers hesitated in fear. His icy, fearful demeanor in place, Alexei placed one hand on each man's shoulder, and pushed them stiffly out of the way. The two bouncers looked on in fear and awe as Alexei began to climb the tiers. Alexei did not even look back to confirm that his two opponents would not try to attack from behind; the power of the Icy Chill of Despair would hold them at by until long after he was gone.
Alexei continued his ascent with a steady pace, ignoring the few people on the lower tiers. He was close to his goal now, and could see the man that he had spotted on the dance floor racing up one last flight of steps to the uppermost level. Alexei brushed his overcoat back casually with his right hand, and ascended the final stairs.
The upper tier widened from the narrow steps into a large, open landing, bounded on two sides by the wall of the building and on the other two by chrome railing. Metal post ran up to the ceiling from the railing, holding the tier firmly in place. The girl sat huddled on a couch directly opposite Alexei, wrapped up in one arm of a large, imposing man wearing a black suit and tie with a blood red dress shirt. His black hair was long and slicked back on his head, revealing overly large, pointed ears. The man's dark eyes held an almost insane light as he listened to the leather clad man speaking in a panicked tone from where he knelt next to the battered black couch. Another three men were present on the tier, all leering at Alexei with wicked smiles. One, a fat, greasy man dressed in a disgustingly tight black turtleneck and pants, sat to his left in a destroyed floral print armchair. Another sat perched on the railing, this one a painfully thin Korean wearing narrow mirror shades and a number of silvery necklaces over his black, smiley face adorned tank top. The final one leaned against the edge of the couch. He was also thin, but not so much so as his Asian comrade, with spiky, bleached white hair and an array of piercings and studded bands around his arms, wrists, and neck. The man from the dance floor turned back as the suit on the couch gave his attention to Alexei, and he jumped back in fear.
"Well, Karamov, fancy seeing you here," the suit stated, smiling up at his new visitor. Alexei glared at the man for a moment, then turned to the girl.
"Let's go," Alexei ordered simply. The girl started to stand, but the suit grabbed her arm and forced her back onto the couch.
"Smiley, escort Mister Karamov out," the suit stated, turning to the Korean. Smiley dropped down off of the railing, a toothy grin coming to his face as he strutted over to Alexei. Alexei glanced down for a brief instant, noting the Korean's slightly curled fist, then glanced up to the man's face again.
Smiley lashed out with his right hand, bringing a switchblade to bear, but Alexei had already planned on just such a move. Stepping to his right, Alexei grabbed the man's wrist in his left hand and threw him forward, ringing Smiley off of the metal post next to the staircase. Smiley bounced back off of the post, spitting out teeth, but already Alexei had whirled around him, his right hand producing a huge knife from a hidden sheath on his back and slamming it through the man's back. Smiley gasped in pain, then fell to the ground as Alexei yanked the sixteen inch, overly wide blade from his spine. Alexei turned back on the suit and his three remaining lackeys, Smiley's blood dripping down off of the length of the jagged klaive of black glass that he wielded.
"Get him!" the suit screamed in rage. Alexei turned to the white haired lackey first, seeing the young man bounce to his feet with incredible quickness and drawing a fighting knife of his own. The punk lashed out as he raced in on Alexei, forcing him back a step to the stairs as he quickly blocked his opponent's knife. Wielding his blade underhanded, Alexei practically rested the wide flat of the blade against his forearm as he parried off four lightning slashes of the punk's knife, the odd sound of metal striking glass making a clacking noise that was not quite drowned out by the music below. Spinning his blade quickly around the punk's smaller knife and reversing his grip on the hilt for the briefest instant, Alexei launched a counterstrike of his own. The glass blade swept out quickly along the punk's throat, drawing a line of crimson in its wake. The punk fell back with a pathetic gurgle even as the fat lackey charged in, swinging a chain at head height. Alexei easily ducked under the wild swing and twirled around his obese opponent, quickly disemboweling the suit's third henchman. Alexei turned back on the suit and the man from the dance floor, but the latter of the two raced back and jumped over the side of the tier, taking his chances on climbing down the side rather than face the deadly knife wielder. Slowly the suit stood up, drawing a pitted, two foot long dagger from the side of the couch. Seething with rage he stalked forward. Alexei shifted his weight back to his rear leg, dropping into a defensive crouch and holding his blade in front of him.
The suit bellowed in rage, his human voice rapidly devolving into a canine howl as his body exploded in oily, uneven black fur. He shot up from just over six feet to nine feet and more in height, his body rippling with muscles as he took on the visage of an insane werewolf. The girl shrieked in fear, leaping back into the corner of the couch, but Alexei seemed unfazed by the sudden transformation of his enemy. The werewolf lunged forward, ready to crush Alexei beneath his weight and impale him on his pitted blade.
The werewolf reached Alexei in a heartbeat, but within that time Alexei had also sprouted rich, deep brown fur and grown to match the suit in size and stature. Metal and glass met with a tortured shriek as Alexei parried his opponent's first strike away, his eyes still calm and blue despite his ferocious appearance. The insane werewolf charged in again and again, hacking and flailing with his blade, but Alexei's mystical klaive of glass flashed about him, creating an impenetrable wall in a classical defensive posture. Beating at Alexei's defenses furiously, the insane werewolf locked blades with his opponent and started to force the slightly smaller Alexei back, each one snarling and snapping at the other. Alexei forced a turn at the last moment and separated from his opponent, dropping back towards the girl on the couch. As he had used the Icy Chill of Despair on the ground floor, Alexei called upon the gifts of his tribe of werewolves, the Shadow Lords, once again, this time to analyze his opponent's fighting style for a weakness. The insane werewolf closed almost immediately, and Alexei dropped low, striking a deep wound across his opponent's chest. Howling in pain and fury, the insane werewolf stumbled backwards, putting one hand to his side.
Alexei tried to press the attack, but he was an instant too slow to beat his opponent. Calling upon the gifts of the tainted Black Spiral Dancers, the insane werewolf seared his injury shut, putting himself back into the fight even as Alexei brought his klaive down in a terrible blow. The Black Spiral Dancer skipped backwards, taking nothing more than a nick to his shoulder, and Alexei rolled away to the right before the pitted klaive of his opponent found its way to his side. The Black Spiral Dancer howled again and charged in, his blade cutting into Alexei's thigh as he sprang away. Falling back another step, the Shadow Lord once again took up a defensive posture, using his steel wall tactic again as the Black Spiral Dancer once more beat in frustration at his defenses. Finally, the insane werewolf drew back and slammed his klaive down in a greeat blow of his own, determined to shatter Alexei's stifling parries.
Alexei had expected, even hoped for, the monstrous attack, and dodged quickly to the Black Spiral's right even as he slammed his klaive into the floor. Quickly Alexei slashed away twice, scoring two more deep gashes through his opponent's side. Howling again in pain, the Black Spiral fell back towards the staircase, one hand on his side and the other holding his klaive in a weak defensive posture. Alexei stalked forward, ready to strike the killing blow, but the Blackl Spiral turned to the reflections in the chrome railing and pushed his way into the Umbra, the spirit world that reflected reality. Alexei made a move to follow his enemy, but then turned back to the girl, shrinking back to his human form as he did so. The girl shrank back on the couch as far as she could, terrified of Alexei and the thing he had become.
"Let's go," Alexei stated a second time. He sheathed his blade on his back under his untouched overcoat, then held out his hand to the girl. "This will be explained to you soon enough."
The girl hesitated for a long moment, but finally she crept forward, taking Alexei's hand. The Shadow Lord turned and started down the staircase, his eyes now on every shadow and corner of the Limelight as he reached the ground floor. The two musclebound bouncers were gone, but he could see in the recesses of the wildly dancing crowds eyes upon him and his new companion. The eyes followed him as he led the girl to the large, red doors that would lead out onto Twentieth Street, but none made a move to stop him. Alexei remained wary of the eyes as he pushed open the doors, pulling the girl out onto the street. As he walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk, his black Lexus pulled up along the curb, and Max pushed the front door open. The girl glanced nervously around her for a moment, until Alexei opened the back door and gestured for her to get into the vehicle. Once she accepted the invitation, Alexei took his place in the passenger seat of the car, and Max pulled away from the curb.
