The Darker Side Ch. 01

Casey fidgeted with the crumpled up piece of paper in her pocket, as she hesitated outside of the small, foreboding night club. The building's entrance was in the alley of an unpopulated street, and at nearly midnight, it didn't feel like the safest place in the world to be. It didn't even look like a club- it looked like an old abandoned warehouse. However, the dim red lights glowing inside and the pulsing music proved that the building was inhabited. There were no neon signs, no door man; nothing that gave anybody any clue that this was anything but a private party.

But this was the address that Damien had given her. Casey pulled the piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolded it for the hundredth time, and read the note once again.

"So, you think you are educated to the darker side of things? Why don't you come and find out for yourself? 114 S. Neebles Ave., 12:00.

Yours truly,

Damien."

He had slipped the note to her earlier this afternoon, just as she was leaving his Dramatic Arts class. How smug he'd been to her today, how he'd infuriated her, made her feel like an idiot! True, he did this every day, which was completely unfair, Casey though. It was hard enough being the oldest student in the class, a twenty-four year old in a room full of kids fresh out of high school.

And Damien- how those kids worshipped him! He was good-looking, with long hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, a very artsy look. He allowed them to call him by his first name, and he only dressed in black. But what held the students' fascination was Damien's thorough knowledge in Gothica. He was constantly referring to plays based upon Bram Stoker's "Dracula", and also "Blood Countess," the story of Elizabeth Bathory. Anything that invloved bloody beheadings, dark erotica, or satanic rituals had his eyes glowing with lust.

But his good looks were not enough for Casey to get sucked under his spell. His arrogance reeked from him, his haughty airs made her want to dig her nails into his flawless face and throw him off his high horse.

"No, that's ridiculous!" Casey had interrupted Damien earlier during his lecture in class. "How could you possibly suggest that there had been any sexual relation between Hamlet and his father?"

Damien cast his patronizing gaze in her direction, one that Casey was certain that he rehearsed every night primarily for her. "How can you not see it, Miss Weimer? Especially with his uncle taking his father's place on the throne,

in his mother's bed? With his father, his most beloved, now gone, Hamlet feels it is now his role to take the king's place; and not only the crown, but also the role of the sexual partner to his mother, and she should be the replacement comfort for him as well."

"So now it's Freud's theory? Damien, you're looking for sexual undertones where there are none- not as deeply as you are going, anyways." Casey did not back down from his stare, as much as it made her blood curdle.

"So, Miss Weimer, what you are saying is that we should only look at what is on the surface? That we should just take what is given to us, and gobble it down without question or analyzation? To search into the darkest core of the soul, that is what art is all about! To see, to realize what others before us have never even dreamt of!"

"I know what art is, Damien!" Casey hurled at him. "I know how to see the darker side of a perspective. But I also know that you can't make something what it isn't. That's all you are doing here! That's all you ever do!"

She wanted him to get angry, to curse at her, to get red in the face and go apeshit. Instead, Damien looked at her calmly as she ranted and raved. And then he smiled. A few of the students started to chuckle, and many eyes were fixed on her. Once again, he had succeeded in making Casey feel like a fool. She lowered her head finally, staring down at her lap.

"Miss Weimer does have passion, I can tell you that," Damien addressed the class. "Let us hope that one day, she will learn to apply it in the right place, instead of in a losing battle."

They all laughed, except for Casey. She burned with anger and humiliation. At the end of the class, just before she could slide passed him to the door, he managed to slip the small folded note into the palm of her hand.

What's he playing at? she had thought, just as she was thinking now. And what had made her accept his challenge? Was she really so petty as to take a chance to prove him wrong? Was that what he was hoping for? Of course he was.

Still, Casey found herself standing in front of this eerie building, dressed in a short black dress and a stylish black leather jacket, wearing dark make-up just to show that should could be just as Gothic as Damien was. Truthfully, she had always had an interest in Gothica, but she would never go through with it to the extremity that Damien did.

She was beginning to think that she had made a huge mistake, and almost turned around to head home. But then Damien would win, and she couldn't stand to see that smug look on his face the next day in class. So Casey took a deep breath, placed her hand on the building's entry door, and pushed herself to walk forward through the door.

Casey's senses were immediately flooded as she stepped into the building. It was larger than it looked on the outside, and beyong the large front room, she could see that there was a hall that twisted and turned, possibly containing several other rooms.

The only light that illuminated the club was red, and Casey had to try several times to adjust her eyes. There was smoke everywhere as well, cigarette smoke mostly, but some of it could possibly have come from an effects machine. The blaring music she recognized to be Type O Negative, and it was coming from a DJ booth at the far right side of the main room. It was being maintained by a young man with a wild mohawk, shirtless, wearing thick black make-up, and piercings all over his body. His head was focused downwards, eyes closed as he swayed hypnotically to the music.

The place was packed with others like him, men and women, every one of them dressed in black, vampiric-like attire. They were seated on leather sofas and chairs distributed throughout the room, and several were dancing on the slick floor just in front of the DJ booth. Just inches to Casey's right were two women on a sofa, kissing each other passionately, nearly to the point of making love in the middle of the crowded room. She managed to tear her eyes away in embarrassment as one woman began suckling the other's bare breast.

Casey felt her whole body shaking. She didn't belong here. She was ready to make a quick dash for the door, when she felt someone grasp her arm. She roughly shook the hand off, then turned around to look up at Damien's laughing face.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said in form of apology. "I'm so glad you made it." He appeared handsome as ever, in a plain black shirt and slacks, over which he was adroned with a long black trenchcoat that almost touched the floor.

Casey masked her flustered state to look confidently back at him. "You didn't think I was going to show up?" she asked.

"I must admit, I was worried," Damien replied.

"But here you are. Please, follow me."

He turned and made his way toward the back hallway. Casey eagerly followed him, feeling closed in even in this large room. Damien made a sharp left turn, and just as Casey was about to round the corner, she caught a brief glimpse of something from a small room across the hall. When she looked closer, she was horrifed by the scene.

First she saw a tall, blond woman, dressed in a skin-tight dominatrix costume. In her hand was a riding crop, and she was using it mercilessly to whip the bare buttocks of a naked man who hung by his wrists, tied with a chain suspended from the ceiling. Even more shocking, his loud cries as she struck him were not of pain, excrutiating pleasure.

What is this place? Casey thought in fear. She ran to catch up with Damien, who was just disappearing into another room. She dreaded what she would find there.

Thankfully, there was no S and M going in on here. Casey breathed a sigh of relief. There was only a large leather sectional, and a fround coffee table. Seated on the sectional was a man and a woman, sitting side by side as innocently as if they were brother and sister.

As soon as Damien entered the room, the girl's eyes lit up, and she stood from the sectional. She was extremely beautiful, a voluptuous redhead, her large breats peeking over a tight corset that hugged her sides and her shapely hips. With it she wore a long, flowing ruffled skirt, and to top off the Victorian look, around her neck was a black collar decorated with a Cameo pendant.

The redhead sauntered up to Damien's side, giving him a seductive smile, and taking a hold of his arm. He returned her gesture with a gracious smile, lifting her hand to his lips. Casey rolled her eyes. Then she found herself staring at the young man still seated on the sectional. He was incredibly good-looking, with dark hair just long enough to curl around his ears, and an angelic face that could have come from one of Michelangelo's sculptures. He wore a black silk shirt, tight leather pants, and laced black boots. Casey blushed and turned her head when she realized that she had lingered her gaze at the large bulge in his pants. She felt his eyes on her for a long time afterwards.

"These are my friends, Saundra and Eric," Damien told her. He let go of Saundra to stand at Casey's side, and boldly placed his arm around her. The tight grasp he had on her made Casey uncomfortable.

"This is Casey," he went on. "This is her first time, so please, help her to feel at ease."

"It looks like that will take a lot of work," Saundra chimed smugly. She moved to stand in front of Casey, and looked her over from head to toe. "She could use a whole lot of work."

"Excuse me?" Casey almost barked at her, seething at the snobbish comment.

Saundra just laughed. "Oh, please, don't take it personally, sweetie. But, if you are interested, I would be more than happy to acquaint you with something from my wardrobe sometime."

"No, thank you." Casey defensively crossed her arms over her chest, causing the other three to laugh with glee. She was now fuming- how dare Damien lure her here, only to be humiliated even further by his peers?

"Oh, forgive us, Miss Weimer," Damien said, suddenly becoming very serious. "I did not ask you to come here to insult you, but to help you. We were just discussing the conversation that you and I shared in class today."

Conversation? Casey thought. You mean how you set me up to brutalize me?

"Quite an interesting speech you gave," Eric spoke up finally. "I admire anyone who challenges Damien's views, as disillusioned as the argument may be."

Casey was about to defend her side, when Saundra chimed in. "Yes, very admirable. Don't feel too bad, honey. Many times have I tried to debate Damien, only to fail each time." Gazing at him respectably, Saundra lifted her hand to caress Damien's chest. "But he's so very charming in his principals, how could I stay angry?"

Damien smiled down on her, like how God would look lovingly down on one of his angels, and lifted his hand to stroke Saundra's cheek. Casey almost scoffed at how pathetically Saundra doted on him, even worse than the students in his class.

Finally, Damien changed his loving look to seriousness, as he commanded to Saundra, "Go prepare the room as I have planned."

At this, Saundra grinned, and like a gleeful child she jumped from his side and rushed out of the room. Damien then turned to Casey, smiling in a friendly manner, and gestured toward the sectional. "Please, have a seat."

Casey hesitated, nothing that Eric was seated in the middle of the sectional, his arms and legs sprawled out leisurely. Slowly, she walked over, and Eric scooted over to give her some room. As she sat beside him, she realized how tall Eric was. He looked at her and smiled, letting his arm rest on the back of the seat behind her head.

Damient sat down on the other side of her, as he lifted both of his hands to pull his long hair back off his shoulders. For some reason, Casey found this movement to be very sexy, and she stiffened as he drew in close to her.

"Casey," he said softly, and she realized that it was the first time that he hadn't addressed her as Miss Weimer. "Do you remember what I asked you, in the note that I gave you?"

She'd only read the note about a hundred times, but she couldn't tell him that. She licked her lips nervously, then replied, just as quietly, "You asked me if I thought I knew the darker side of things."

Damien smiled a little, then said, "And, do you?"

Casey inhaled a shaky breath. Both men's eyes were fixed upon her, and she was buckling down under the spotlight. "Well, I do know for one, that I have witnessed things just being here that I'd only read or heard about. And I mean, I'm not a total innocent, you know? I've experimented, or at least heard about such experiences. . ."

She trailed off, once again feeling inadequate. She felt like some kind of prey, being closed in on by two very intimidating predators. Her mind wandered to the room that Damien had spoken of, and what exactly Saundra was "preparing" it for?

As though sensing her apprehension, Damien sat back. "I see," he said, and paused thoughtfully. He then curled his fingers together, with the exception of his two index fingers, which he lifted up to his lilps as he pondered.

"Casey," he spoke at last, nearly causing her to jump, "I've thought a lot today about what you said to me in class. Maybe you were right. Maybe I do search for a dark side to things that have no dark side." He leaned in close to her once again, and his voice lowered to nearly a whisper. "Am I wrong about you, Casey? Do you not have some primal, urgent need in you that is screaming for release? Am I wrong in thinking that you have a darker side to you?"

Casey's heartbeat quickened, and so did her breathing. "No," she whispered, though she wasn't quite sure which question she was answering, or what she really meant. Daminet lifted his hand to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. He smiled warmly at her.

Casey's chest was heaving uncontrollably. Suddenly she felt Eric shift slightly on the other side of her, as he removed his arm from the back of the sectional, and lowered his hand to rest on the inside of her thigh. She was frozen in fear. She wanted to run like a frightened rabbit, but she could not. She moved her gaze from Damien's face to Eric's hand on her bare skin. She was horrified to find that the hem of her dress was hiked up so high.

What the hell was she doing here? Why had she come here? It wasn't too late to turn back now, just that she had come to at least partially realized their intentions. She should just get up and run, straight out of this damn place, and forget she ever even saw it, and burn the note that Damien had given her so that she couldn't be reminded.

But just then, Saundra's pretty red head poked into the room, smiling widely. "Everything's ready," her voice rang out like a chorus of bells.

The story continues in Ch. 2!