Bethany Strobel

     Thunder cracks with riotous calamity as a great flash of lightning arcs across the sky. Each deviation of the bright light causes another explosion to sound in the distance. The echoing pulse of a noise akin to a sonic boom causes the dark, pregnant clouds above to shift as they are pushed by a force generated by the reverberating sound. The mountainous skyscrapers that line the city scape shake as panes of windows pulse and throb on the verge of bursting. Another strike of lightning flashes, this time striking several of the rods which point towards the heavens on one of the tallest buildings.

     The wild chaos of the sky above remains oblivious to the people on the busy streets below. Mules. Humans. Little more than worker bees in a giant hive, they pass by in the streets below with their umbrellas open, blinding them to the mystery and magic that consumes the atmosphere above. None of them can see that the lightning moves with purpose. It moves through the clouds like the black coils of a snake as it slithers in and out of the shadowy night, and with every spark it leaves the faintest outline of the shadowed forms that move within its boundaries.

     The erratic lightshow creates random patterns as it shoots across the sky, seemingly following the line of the street, and moves towards the most impressive building. It’s a large structure that spirals into the sky like roots and tendrils cresting from the earth. The building is modern in design with a face made of paned glass and steel metalwork. At its peak, the steel turns out and over itself to create a twisted barrier that blocks the penthouse from view of the outside world. Below, the mouth of the building is the bustling entrance to the most exotic and sought-after night club in the city. Desire Noir.