The Black Mass

The flicker of candles casts dancing shadows, and the heavy smoke of incense envelops the mind like silken fetters. A low chant seeps into your very blood—hypnotic, persistent, calling you beyond the veil. What does it promise you? The intoxicating power that flows in the veins of the earth, or the forbidden knowledge that burns on the tongue like ripe fruit? Decide... He already reads the sweet tremor of your choice within your soul.