Day 683

The nightclub overflowed with energetic bodies, all moving with desperation.

Every one of them tried to stay within the neon squares that marked the dance floor.

The bar was deserted though the staff there were constantly ferrying water to the crowd.

Bottles were passed from sweating hand to heaving lungs as they moved and waited.

You see, the Bouncers had gotten inside and were guarding the exits.

They've been known to do this in the bigger cities and very rarely larger towns.

We know them only as Bouncers, so called for their tendency to prey on nightclubs.

They like their food spiced with liqueur and slow to react.

Luckily they'd arrived early on in the night, early enough for most to be sober.

It was only fairly recently that they'd started coming inside the buildings.

Generally they waited in alleys for someone to fall asleep or to startle them enough that they froze.

They only attack when you stop moving - if you pause for even a brief moment they lash out.

This time, the crowd was a little prepared, a little likelier to last the night.

It worked in shifts, the safest strategy advertised.

The slower, more exhausted people were forced into the middle where they could hide.

Everyone else kept moving as much as they could while pacing themselves.

All clubs had a Bouncer policy where water was handed out as fast and frequently as possible.

Sometimes the Bouncers got fed up and waited outside for the dancers to eventually leave.

This didn't seem to be one of those times.

Their iridescent eyes scanned the crowd for stragglers, occasionally spotting one ducking away.

With five hours until sunrise, until the Bouncer's instinct told them to leave, the crowd danced on.