“Not picking up anything suspicious here,” said John, his technological armour clicking and beeping and flashing with every step he took, “I’ve even got the sensors set to pick up magnetic fields, since Kat’s so determined they’re connected to these ‘aura’ things,”

Katrina herself was busy taking pictures of every surface, which she would no doubt arrange into a sprawling panorama once they were developed. “I don’t know if you’ll pick anything up,” she said, “It took months for us to perfect the auragraphic process, remember. If you could pick it up with your sensors or on film just like that, we wouldn’t have had to bother!”

While they bickered, and the others loitered around, Theseus had drawn a tranq-gun and was sidling along the wall towards the next set of doors. If anyone was a prime asset in these situations, it was the Second Year’s top student in Survival, and times like this proved how valuable Mr Haan’s lessons really were.

“This place is all rather depressing,” sighed Andromeda, stand around in the middle of the lobby with nothing to do except swing her flashlight around.

“It gets worse,” replied Lyra with a half-smirk. How it could get any worse wasn’t apparent until Theseus burst through the double doors and signalled the all clear.

Flashlights danced across the nearby bar and dance floor, casting long, distorted shadows of tables and stools across the slick black walls. John fired off a few flare-darts at the ceiling to provide some ambient lighting but the situation didn’t improve: the state of the club could no longer hide in the shadows. Ripped leather seats and sofas, walls stained by drink and smoke and who-knows-what-else, a ceiling slung with hanging lamps with exposed wiring and extractor fans blocked up with black dirt – not one centimetre of the club looked as if it had been cleaned or maintained in at least five years. How such a hovel didn’t infect its residents with a plague, Phoenie didn’t know.

“Man, this place is proper spooky when you turn on the lights,” said Joel, as if he’d only just noticed his hangout’s true degradation, “I always thought the walls by the bar were purple, not like blood red or whatever it is!”

The group filtered out across the cesspit of hedonistic stains that was the dance floor, Katrina’s camera whirring every second as she catalogued each and every nook of the nightclub, while Joel loitered by the bar staring at the bottles of alcoholic beverages that lined with wall with black-rimmed eyes of lust. Phoenie did her best to ignore the unhygienic décor and wandered over to Andromeda, who was standing by the edge of the stage looking up at a violent mural of fire and destruction.

“Heard its been here longer than anyone remembers,” explained Lyra, “Could be hundreds o’ years old,”

“It’s rather depressing,” said Phoenie, crossing her arms in contempt.

“The destruction of the past is a big thing to Ravens,” said Andromeda, “It’s a reminder that they shouldn’t spend too long thinking about the future or what could have been. Their entire subculture is about expecting death,”

“Can’t be wasting ye life making plans for a future that won’t happen,” said Lyra, “Better to be going out in a blaze of glory than fade into the dark,”

Katrina appeared next to the girls, her camera clicking with renewed vigour. “Ooh, that Erebus!” she said, camera focused on the black shadow that crowned the mural, “The demonic God of Darkness who shows up in dreams and…”

Chapter 48
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