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A chapel, the purest of white

Filled with candles burning so bright

Dark symbols on the wall

I do not understand

Ghostlike figures standing in a circle

Chanting ancient rhymes

I see the Abbott appearing

Wearing a habit so white it hurts my eyes

Raising his hands from behind the misty altar

He starts his prayer

Speaking in the strangest tongues

I do not understand

Someone is laying on the altar

Arms and legs bound

I do not understand

Ara Deus Sanguis

The ritual has started

A big knife in the hands of the Abbott

Blood is dropping into a chalice

As the wall behind the altar starts to glow

I do not understand

Ara Deus Sanguis

It needs to be fed