The Spiral's a bar that pretty much everyone's heard of, and no one knows anything about. There's too many stories for it to be real; one guy says there's a European Human Trafficking ring running out of there one week, next week it's a group of people running flesh for NAMBLA, next it's illegal firearms, and the week after that, maybe the Hook-Handed Killer showed up and showed 'em all a thing or two. The truth's a lot more mundane and a lot less interesting.
It's a bar, with wooden panelled walls and a scarred old guy, who looks like every other scarred bartender with a shotgun under the counter. The people who come here tend to be the people who want to get drunk. The booze swings between okay and paint-thinner, but at least it helps you sleep at night after a couple of shots.
Hunters know it as a meeting point between cells, a place where you can slip down to the basement if the bartender knows you, and trade a bit of info or get a little no-questions-asked surgery.
Mortals know it as a goddamned dive where you can get a quiet drink without anyone really paying attention to it. Either way, it's a good enough place to meet new people.
How the Spiral Works
Tonight though, in expression of the coming holiday, the Old Man has decorated the dusty bar. This consists of precisely 3 paper spiders stuck to one of the beer bottles. Or... maybe they're real spiders and he hasn't moved them. Hard to tell.
There's also a few candles stuck around the place, but that's actually not uncommon. They're lit tonight, and the light's not exactly soothing. It's just a reminder that the Vigil is still on.
However, on the other hand? It's also poker night. The box of battered chips, slightly suspicious playing cards, and the sign up sheet are all out.