She enters the macabre chapel through massive ornate double doors. Hesitating only a moment, she begins down the middle isle. Careful to keep her head forward, shoulders back. Afraid the slightest show of weakness might provoke the terrifying faceless congregation inhabiting the pews.
With her eyes glued to the stone slab at the front of the dimly lit room, she slowly makes her way forward. Her legs begin to tremble ever so slightly. Still she moves on. Her brow begins to sweat. Her nostrils are filled with the sickening smell of melting wax and sulfur. Still her resolve does not falter. For he is there waiting. He whom she must obey. He for whom she will sacrifice all.
In one hand he holds a collar, attached to a chain, attached to the slab. In the other he holds a long blade. On his face he wears a knowing look. Confident that in her, he has found the one.
The congregation begins to hiss there devilish approval as he places the collar around her neck and leads her to the alter. Their hisses become a low roar as he uses the blade to cut away her robes and places her atop the slab. Even the most wicked eyes dare not deny the beauty of the devil's chosen, on display before them.
Her heart races as he runs the blade along her tender flesh. She whimpers, her thighs moisten, as the blade whispers promises of what's to come. She feels her grasp on reality begin to slip as cruel tip enters vulnerable thigh.
She can feel the life flow from her body as the blood pools on the alter beneath her. For the first time her fear takes over. She opens her mouth to protest. But before the cry can cross her lips, he slashes his wrist, and shoves it harshly between them. She begins to choke and sputter as his warm, tainted blood pours down her throat. Blackness takes over reality. Death takes over life.
She exits the macabre chapel through massive ornate double doors. There is no hesitation...