Camael straightened her clothing - simple and light. Even from two blocks away, she could feel the sin emanating from the establishment. It was like a live tumor, something that would devour her completely should she let even a tiny bit of it touch her person. A virus, chaotic and unrelentless, it had already claimed the establishment as its own. Cleansing it in the name of the Creator would be a difficult task, and should a lower ranking angel have entered there, she was certain that they would have fallen to the temptation it offered.

But she was different. She was a Seraph, stronger and closest to the Creator. Standing in front of the establishment, she was certain she would be able to overpower whatever heinous and malevolent spirit it would have to offer.

Oh, how wrong she was. She'd only set one foot into the club when she was assaulted with all the blasphemous thoughts of all that was inside. She couldn't even bear the wrongdoings some of them have done. Infidelity. Immorality. Murder. Her heart wept, not for the humans that found pleasure in canoodling in the palace of haram, but for the Creator who had given His unconditional and undying love for these blasphemous ingrates.

She shook her head but pushed on. She had to do her best to save whatever she could of this place, despite wanting to simply damn the entire establishment. It was her duty, and she could never turn her back on the very creatures the Creator loved so. She sat herself at the bar, cringing at the sleazy men and slutty women that littered it. Even the bartender reeked of sin, and when she was asked what she'd wanted to drink, she simply said she wanted wine. That was the closest she could get to something holy in a place like this. The bartended shot her a look, but went to retrieve her drink nonetheless.

In the meantime, Camael turned to face the mesh of bodies that was the dancefloor. It was then that she felt it - that dark, deadly feeling. A demon was in the area.