Not terrifying at all.
Into the darkness Seymour drove, his heart crawling up the back of his throat. His headlights came on but didn’t help pierce the void. They should have hit the other doors by now, but the darkness kept going and going. It felt like he was about to drive them off the edge of a cliff at any second.
But then he saw the light.
Red lights up ahead, as a matter of fact, the glow of bright neons framing the outline of a large rectangular building with a big sign on top shaped like a ball of flames with writing within that saidThe Inferno.
Judging by the shape and angles, the club was inexplicably another version of the old garage though several times its original size. The bay doors were gone, the brick was all painted black, and the front resembled a theater with a bright marquis:
LOGAN DUBOIS RETURNS.
There was a line of people waiting to get inside, but naturally none of them were human. Big monsters, little monsters, some with fur, a few with horns, and one reptilian fellow who was so large Seymour couldn’t imagine them fitting inside.
Seymour slowly pulled up to the front, asking, “So, we park in the back or?—”
“There is no need,” Sariel cut in. “The doors will?—”
As soon as Seymour came to a stop, the truck doors opened by themselves. “Holy fuck balls!”
Sariel pouted. “I tried to warn you.”
“Warn faster next time! Yeesh!” Seymour stared. “So, do I… just leave the keys?”
“Yes.”
“Right. Got it.” Seymour hesitated, but then he unhooked the key from his father to tuck into his pocket. He reached for Day and then stepped out of the truck, flinching when the door closed itself.
“How strange!” Day curiously pawed the air, as if she could somehow touch whatever force was at work here.
“That’s a fuckin’ understatement,” Seymour mumbled.
“You will likely be the only human here.” Sariel curled his arm around Seymour, his hand resting on the small of his back. “Do not worry. I will keep you safe.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
Sariel blushed, ducking his head as he led them to the door.
There was a large ox creature with brown-and-white butterfly wings standing guard, but they waved Sariel right inside ahead of the line. They gave Seymour a curious glance, but said nothing.
Day smacked her lips, staring at the ox creature as if he was a juicy snack.
Seymour hoped this place had food.
The doors opened on their own because of course they did, and the interior was dark. It was lit only by fancy gold chandeliers and more neons running along the tops of the walls. There was a stage with a sparkling piano, a handsome young brunet seated before it who was singing as he played.
It was a slow, jazzy version of Panic At The Disco’s “LA Devotee.”
Rather fitting since the singer kinda looked like that Urie guy.
The furniture was all black, the carpets too, and so was the textured wallpaper. The only spots of color were red: the neons,plush velvet tops of the barstools at the bar, the curtains up on the big stage, and the quilted ceiling.
Who the hell quilted a ceiling anyway?
Monsters, apparently.
Whatever.
It gave Seymour bigAddams Familyvibes, and as Sariel had said, Seymour found himself the only human in a sea of monsters. He clung to Sariel a bit tighter even as he reached up to give Day a reassuring stroke. “See, this isn’t so bad. Look. The monsters have their own goth club.”
