Page 368 of Eternal
Applause broke out the moment he stepped onto the stage. He looked old, mid-sixties, dressed in a red velvet costume that felt more ceremonial than festive.
He smiled wide, like he was genuinely proud of whatever this was.
His little party.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, voice so dramatic and theatrical. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you again tonight. Last month’s theme was Red Lights, and judging by the state this venue was left in… I’d say you all enjoyed yourselves.”
People laughed, not politely, but knowingly. Too knowingly. I smiled too, though I wasn’t sure why.
Something about all of this felt…off.
Even he laughed. Red Lights…. And then he continued, “The theme for this month is‘La Débauche’.Let your filthiest dreams run free. And remember, in the shadows, you can be whoever you want to be.” Another round of applause. Bigger. Distracting. “Be who you are when no one’s watching. Or better… When everyone is.”
Someone screamed. The room shifted. The chandeliers above flickered and died. Purple and Gold floodlights snapped on. Then the curtains dropped off the walls.
Behind them: cages, glass boxes, iron bars.
Inside, couples are already naked, already moving. Some were too young. Some were blank-eyed, motionless under the heaviness of whatever they’d given up, or had taken.
Girls danced like their strings were pulled by someone offstage, no trace of want, no illusion of choice. Others were locked together like animals.
One man sat behind a pane of glass, velvet chair, stroking the hair of a kneeling woman. Her mouth was open, her eyes weredead.
Another pair writhed against metal bars, breath fogging the glass like flames trapped in hell.
Every booth, every crevice faintly lit, exposing too much. Silhouettes, moans, curses.
The sound of something being taken forcefully, over and over.
And around us, the movement followed. Masks slid off. Dresses hit the floor.
The room had become something between a theater and a twisted and wrong ritual.
Nobody was pretending anymore.
It smelled like sweat and money and rot. I spotted Laurens on the mezzanine, grinning down at it all like he was watching a symphony play. Six men near him. Suits. Hard faces. Definitely armed.
One was scanning the crowd. Damir’s eyes tracked mine, then narrowed. He saw it too.
“Side stairs”, I mouthed.
He gave the faintest nod as I stood. His hand brushed the small of my back, grounding me for half a second.
Laurens peeled away, slipping behind the curtain into his private corridor.
Damir leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I’m right behind you. Let’s go.”
102
AZRA
“The Great Gig In The Sky” by Pink Floyd
Present
We crept upstairs quietly. The guards were exactly where I expected, two by the door, scanning faces like vultures. The other four are probably scattered around the place, probably to make sure no unwanted nuisance would appear.
Damir caught my eye, and without a word, he stepped in front of me, his body pressing mine against the cold wall.
