The name of the club is Nightmoves. I’ve never been here before, not surprisingly. I’m not exactly what you call a party animal. But this is where he wanted to meet, so I agreed. It’s not every day you get to interview a demon, right? So it’s probably best to go along with his program. Within reason.
I enter the club, my eyes adjusting to the dimness. People are dancing , writhing together on the dance floor under the sensually glowing lights, the bass line pulsing almost hypnotically. So, where is he, I wonder?
I skirt the outside of the dance floor, my steps leading me to a staircase and before I know it, I’ve followed it, almost instinctively. Once I reach the second floor, I notice that some people are standing, looking down at the dancers below, while others sit at tables: conversing, drinking, touching. The typical things you’d see in such a place.
And then I spot him. Sitting alone, his dark eyes riveted upon me. A chill runs up my spine, a tingle not entirely unpleasurable. He rises at my approach, although he doesn’t pull out my chair. Rather, he gestures toward it, and I take my seat, and turn on my voice recorder.
“Mr. Asmodeus?” I wish to verify his identity.
He smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. “Drop the mister,” he says as he assumes his seat.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Asmodeus,” I amend. “Why don’t you start by telling me a little bit about yourself?”
Thanks for letting me borrow Asmodeus, M.A., he's one hot demon!
Until next time, take care!