I filled this story chock-full of subtle and not-so-subtle norse mythology. My inspiration was a scary image I thought of when I was daydreaming.
“The Helheim Club”
“Spare some change for a poor blind man down on his luck!” Pleaded the scraggly beggar sitting against the old brick building. His eyes stared straight ahead, opaque and useless.
“Ignore him, maybe he'll think we're gone.” Jeff heard his friend Kevin whisper. The two comrades were standing in the lineup of “The Helheim Club”, one of those all-exclusive joints that it took forever to get inside.
There was a long line of club-goers in front of an extremely elaborate entrance: a gigantic snake's head appeared to rear up from the very earth itself, baring its monstrous fangs to form a doorway covered with only a black velvet curtain that barely muffled the sound of pulsing techno music. Presumably, the rest of the club was under the pavement. The serpent's eyes appeared to glow melevolantly.
“Cool effect.” Jeff whispered back, pointing towards the behmoth. “Dude, why are we whispering?” Kevin wondered out loud. Jeff winced. “Because nobody else is talking!” He hissed angrily. “I think it must be part of this place's etiquette or something!” “You mean we're not supposed to talk until we're inside?” Kevin asked, whispering again. “Something like that.” Jeff shrugged. They both contented themselves with staring at the giant snake entrance, taking shuffling steps every now and then when the line inched closer towards it.
The silence was once again broken by the blind man. “Hi! Don't you two ignore me! Old Hod isn't as stupid as he is blind!” Kevin rolled his eyes at Jeff as the old man continued. “Two young fellas like yourselves'd be better off at home, not standing in front of a dark place like this! He's a tricky one he is, and he made me kill th'other one, so now old Hod's a murderer to boot!” The beggar's rantings subsided as he was overcome with a violent bout of coughing. When this quieted, he took a swig out of a bottle hidden inside a brown paper bag. His ramblings continued, but they were quieter this time. “Ay, so now there's two innocent souls going willingly into this hell-hole! May the fates have mercy on you. He wants to fill the world with chaos and destruction, and the only thing he needs is more souls...”
Jeff shuddered, and was relieved when the line moved forward again. He could see the doorway more clearly now. Beside it stood a single large, muscular bouncer with a shaved head wearing dark sunglasses and a leather vest. “The better to show off my biceps, my dear!” Kevin whispered, and then chuckled nervously. He had seen the man, too. His arms were bigger around than Jeff's head, and were covered in tattoos. In his right hand he clutched a short black leash attatched to a ferocious monster of a dog. “What breed of dog is that? Is it a bloodhound?” Jeff asked Kevin, who snickered quietly. “You don't know anything about dogs. That's more like a... hellhound or something!” “So you're saying you don't know.” “Does it matter what type it is? It looks like it could eat you!”
About twenty minutes later, the two friends were only ones left who had not gained entrance to the exclusive establishment. “Room for two more?” Jeff smiled winningly at the bouncer. “Yeah yeah, knock yourselves out.” He growled. “Nice dog. Um, is that mud in its fur?” Jeff asked tentatively. “No, but it rhymes with mud.” The man didn't laugh, but he smiled slightly. Kevin spoke up just then. “Right, um, is there anywhere we can keep our coats for when we come out?” “Not necessary.” The man grunted, turning towards the street once more and folding his arms across his broad chest. “Right, well... thanks anyway!” The two of them pushed aside the velvet curtain and stepped into the snake's mouth, carefully avoiding the realistic fangs.
Beyond was a metal spiral staircase that reverberated with the volume of the music. It descended down, down, further beneath the pavement than either of them had expected. Jeff whistled. “Imagine how long it took to build this! The owner of this place has got to be a big-timer!” He almost had to yell over the unholy din. Kevin nodded at him, and the two friends began the long descent to the club floor.
To their surprise, they noticed that when they stepped off into the club, the staircase continued downwards without them, farther than they could see. “Dude, we have got to ask about that!” Yelled Kevin. Jeff noticed a row of hooks along one wall and hung his coat up, Kevin following suit. Neither of them mentioned the fact that each of the hooks was made to appear as if it were a beckoning finger bone.
They could now see that the club was just a simple dance floor with a long bar off to the side. Jeff led the way towards the bar through the artificial smoke and various light effects as they squeezed between the crush of people on the dance floor. Grabbing a couple of free stools at the bar, they sat back to check out the throng of clubgoers and to get a feel for the atmosphere.
“Hey, did you notice they have a colour theme?” Jeff yelled in Kevin's ear as he pointed towards the swirling and flashing laser lights, which were all shades of red, yellow, and orange. “Yeah, that's cool... flame colours!” Kevin yelled back. He had a grin of exhilaration on his face.
The techno beat was catchy, and Jeff was just about to jump onto the dance floor with the other revellers, when all of a sudden a beautiful young woman sat down in the stool beside them. “So, what do you think of the club so far?” She asked, smiling at them. “I can tell you two are newcomers.” She had an enchanting smile, and the guys could only see one green eye; the other half of her face was covered by the ebony black hair that she had swept forward on that side. “It's pretty rockin'!” Kevin answered for both of them. “The layout is awesome...what is it, an underworld theme?” The girl's smile widened. “Yeah, you could say that. By the way, my name is Hel...en. My name's Helen.” She nodded as if satisfied. Noting the interesting hesitation in her voice, the two friends introduced themselves.
Glad to have a chance to talk to a regular, Jeff piped up: “This is a pretty crazy location! Who owns this place?” He felt drawn to her resulting smile. “Actually, my father owns the 'Helheim'. His name's Loki, and I'm sure you saw how the stairs keep going down past this club. They lead to our private quarters.” Kevin looked impressed. “Private quarters below a sweet club like this? Is your dad a multi-millionaire or something?” Helen laughed at this. “No, let's just say he pulled a few strings. My father knows how to... influence people.” She grinned meaningfully.
Jeff shuddered. “Ah. I take it he isn't the sort of fellow we'd like to meet, eh? Keeps to himself mostly?” “Well, actually, he's going to be making an appearance here tonight. He likes to personally make sure that everything in his club is running smoothly, and that everyone is taken care of.” Jeff wasn't sure he liked the way Helen said the phrase “taken care of”. Her smile returned as she said, “Anyway, while you boys have got my attention, how
about some drinks? On me.” She turned to the bartender. “Three of the house specials, please.” When each of them held a glass, Helen raised hers. Jeff and Kevin mimicked her, and Jeff took a sip of his drink. To him it seemed to be a foul brew, and he coughed a bit as it went down. Helen noticed this, and smiled sympathetically. “It's an imported variety, so it might not be to your taste.” “No no, it's fine!” Jeff insisted, trying not to be rude, and forced himself to finish the clear liquid.
Kevin also put his glass back down on the bar, and stood up. “Well, I don't know about you two, but I came here to do some dancing!” Jeff lost sight of him as he was engulfed in the mass of flailing bodies. His curiosity aroused, he turned back towards Helen. “So, why did your father give this place an underworld theme? Is he into all that Goth stuff?” She shook her head slowly. “No, actually the the theme of the club was my idea. You might say I've been fascinated by things that were dark and evil since I was little.” “Uh huh...” Jeff wasn't so sure he liked this strange girl anymore.
“Um... when exactly is your father making his appearance?” “Well, now that you mention it, it is getting on towards midnight.” With that, Helen stood up from her stool and clapped her hands twice. There was no way the sound could have carried throughout the whole club, even without the loud music. And yet the moment her hands struck each other for the second time, the underground structure was filled with a silence so complete, it was as if they had entered the vaccuum of space, and the very concept of sound was dead.
Nobody was dancing anymore. Everyone on the dance floor was standing as still as if they had taken root, and all eyes were on Helen as she climbed on top of her stool in front of the bar. “Attention, damned souls! You have all lived the lives of cowards, and now your doom is upon you! I don't think I need to tell you where you're going.” Nobody laughed as if this were some sort of sick inside joke. Nobody even cracked a smile. All of the people who had appeared at first to be normal party-goers now wore faces of solemn acceptance.
“And to lead you there, here comes my father; the one, the only: Loki!” Not a sound. And then Jeff heard it, coming from the stairs, but it sounded as if it were far, far, below them:
“Thoom!” The sound of a heavy foot on a metal stair. Then another. And another. “Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!” The steady sound of someone marching up the stairs towards them. The march of their demise. Jeff looked back at Helen, and choked back a scream. She had pulled her beautiful hair back into a ponytail, and the formerly hidden half of her face was now visible. Instead of the soft, pretty skin on the normal side of her face, this side was nothing more than a grinning skeletal mess. Clinging to the white of the bones were patches of rotting flesh, and in the socket rolled an eyeball that was shrunken and bloodshot.
The thing that he knew as Helen cackled at him: “What's the matter, Jeff? Never seen a pretty girl before?” She threw back her monstrous head and laughed, but it was a cruel mockery of what her pretty laugh had been before. “Thoom! Thoom!” The steps continued unhindered. Jeff turned his head wildly, seeking, seeking... and he saw his friend standing in the crowd. But instead of looking frantic, Kevin wore a look mirroring that of the people around him, and his eyes were glassy and dark.
With a cry, Jeff launched himself in the direction of the stairs. Nobody moved to stop him, and he reached the spiral staircase without difficulty. Ignoring the row of hooks with his jacket, he began sprinting upwards, two stairs at a time; away from the doomed people, away from Kevin, away from Helen, and away from whatever or whoever would surely be pursuing him up these very stairs. “Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!”
And he had made it! Snatching the curtain aside, he ran past the bouncer, noting with curiosity that the man no longer held a leash. Jeff ran and ran and ran as if he would never stop, and knew that if his legs didn't collapse, he would likely have a heart attack. Yes! He had reached his apartment building! As he fumbled for the key that must surely be in his jacket pocket, a sound escaped his lips that was a mixture of a sob and a laugh. But then he froze, as behind him he heard the growl of a dog that was very, very close.
