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legality of the club. This was a dangerous place, but not because of threat of physical injury. Phillip’s Gestapo-like security took all the necessary precautions to protect the clientele. No, here the danger lurked for those who were ill-prepared for the vices available. These vulnerable souls were often tangled into webs which could not easily be unwound; not without a sojourn into rehab at the very least.
    Despite the risqué atmosphere of the basement, its existence was a little known secret. The entrance to Hell was located on the second story balcony above the main floor. Here was where the VIPs, celebrities and special invitees made their way. The unknowns and wannabes paraded themselves before those who had access to this second level because invitation by a celebrity or VIP to this sacrosanct area would equivalent to, or at least be the start of, becoming a celebrity or VIP. High priced liquors, cigars and gourmet food were all served by professional waiters and waitresses. The entire floor was illuminated by candlelight from an immense number of candles giving the space a regal feel. The privileged sat in leather and velvet loungers viewing the action below from the darkened balconies, deciding the right moment to “descend into Hell.” Once ready for their descent, they would gain access to a spiral staircase which led down past the main area and into the earth.
    “Abandon all hope ye who enter here” a la Dante’s Inferno.
    The one constant within all of these levels was the connection of the sound systems and lighting. True, candles illuminated the second level; however, the lights of the main room could be seen and even felt by those on the second level. This was done for a variety of reasons: first to keep the uniformity of the music and lighting, lest they otherwise clash, and second, to allow all levels to act in unison should any emergency occur. Fire was the greatest threat to any club; therefore, if one area were compromised, the activation of an emergency switch would cripple the noise and lights for all three levels, enabling everyone to reach safety within a short time frame. Even the restrooms were “plugged in” adding a sense of continuity to the call of nature. Phillip loved this feature of his club. Although it was done for the same safety reasons, he often joked of urinating by strobe lights.
    The third story balcony held the offices where Phillip Devereaux sat tonight as he did every night. His desk was made from black granite, which was almost invisible in the darkened room. Working in the dark kept the crowd below from seeing through the one-way glass which enclosed the third floor balcony like box seats at a football stadium. The only illumination came from the black and white security monitors on the far side of the room and the computer monitor mounted on the left side of the black granite desk. Sharing the space with Phillip were two security guards who kept constant watch over the monitors and, therefore, over the entire inner workings of the nightclub.
    Phillip sat with his back to the glass walls as he studied the accounts, computing the profits and losses for the club through the current date. The club was ten months old at this point and the profits continued to increase and surpass the previous month. This was extremely encouraging. Most nightclubs began to plateau or drop profits by the sixth or seventh month in existence due to another more grandiose club opening. The Inferno had set the bar so high nothing short of a Las Vegas mega resort could hope to topple it. This was the goal Phillip had set for the club and it seemed to be working.
    Breathing a sigh of relief and pride with regard to the final numbers, Phillip sat back in his leather office chair. He loosened a button on his black silk shirt and spun toward the one way glass for a look down into the crowd below. Stretching his arms out, he gazed down and locked his eyes on a young woman who danced in a powerful