Follow the path across murky maimed lands. Hidden in the fog are skulls seated upon stakes. Moonlit markers that glisten off mangled crowns from the undercroft. A faint glow shimmers beyond the mist coated graveyard. Effluvium essence lingers within the acrid air. Lying ahead buried with the dead, sits the morgutorium, emitting dread. Onwards through the unmarked tombstones towards the flickering phenom lurking behind the glazed glass cathedral panes. Faint shrieks congest the necropolis night, evoking trepidation as the trees rustle with the echoed screams of agonistic throes. Noxious secretions sting the nostrils as I nudge closer to the crypt. Possessed by obscured premonitions. Lured by decrepit hands. Visions of odious omens led me to peer from where I stand. Seen through the aperture the supernatural sects started the seance. Sprawled out across the altar a mutilated mass squirms in discontent. Beckoned calls are belted from the grand magus as the chalice collects the blood oozing from the specimen writhing under the wrath of the most ancient ones. The walls are lined with the cloaked congregation. Passing the cup, consuming the cells. Gazing closer, the maimed figure slowly rises up from the altar. The hood is drawn revealing a hideous mirroring of abhorrence. A manifested mask of monstrous malevolence. A resurrected reflection of my former self.
