PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

The first thing that struck me at Death Comes Lifting was the natural sense of community.

Okay, that’s not true: The first thing that struck me was the kettlebells shaped like zombie heads. Soon after that, though: The community.

Death Comes Lifting, a fitness center in Allentown, is dubbed “Fitness For the Misfits.” Posters depicting weightlifting-themed tarot cards and fitness-focused horror parodies — “Evil Shred,” “The Flexorcist” — adorn the walls. A soundtrack of metal and goth rock fills the air; in a small lounge, VHS copies of iconic slashers play while you unwind.

PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

Death Comes Lifting, which opened its physical location on East Warrington Avenue back in February, is the creation of master yoga instructor and all-around cool guy Zak Bellante. I popped in for the grand opening, then returned for a group training course and a bright-and-early Monday yoga class (called “Anti-Rigor Mortis Yoga Flow,” naturally). Zak is a natural and empathetic teacher, so even my deep-set yoga aversion was no match for his positivity.

On the surface, Death Comes Lifting demonstrates that gyms and fitness centers greatly benefit from an identity — not merely a theme, but a sense of personality. I’m a former member of several gym chains where the closest thing to character or community was a color scheme. (I joined the purple one, but then got sick of them and joined the blue one.)

There’s something to be said for the ample space and cheap admission to places like these; any fitness is better than none. But I could easily go to one of those warehouse-sized gyms every day and not say a word to another person, drifting in and out like a cardio-minded ghost.

PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

At Death Comes Lifting, however, the spooky spirit is infectious — and just spirited (forgive the pun) enough to foster friendly communication and encouragement with those around you. It’s a relatively small space, so you can’t hop onto a machine and disappear; you’re going to be sharing real estate, and hopefully support, with whoever else is there for a workout.

From a business perspective, clever and playful t-shirts and stickers, memorable music and neighborhood tie-in events are wise ways to build a following. But those same efforts are ways to build a community, to make a gym more than just a place to lift weights. If you create a sense of belonging, people are much more likely to stick around and make something part of their lives.

Gyms, it turns out, should have personalities, not just branding and the occasional pizza night. And it goes beyond just gyms; there are a million poorly conceived shops, restaurants, bars and coffee houses around, hoping that location and convenience will overcome a lack of creativity. While some will scoff at theming such as this — what, are you some kinda weirdo who doesn’t want to listen to Slayer while you stretch? — I suspect that Death Comes Lifting will inspire a much more dedicated clientele than a hundred squeaky-clean fitness centers.

I’m even thinking of going back for more yoga, despite the fact that my joints have absolutely no interest in it. Seriously — a gym teacher once told me I was the most inflexible person in the history of the class. I was kind of impressed. Maybe if I spend some more time at Death Comes Lifting, I can stretch my way from complete rigidity to mere clumsiness.