As My herald, that pitiful minion of mine, basks in the fleeting warmth of the sun, little does he comprehend the tempest of torment that awaits him in the murky depths of night. Tonight, the ethereal strands of my malevolent presence shall coil tightly around Red Gate, ensnaring it within my grasp as I prepare to feast upon the discordant symphony of madness that is sure to unfold.
The very heavens shall tremble as the hardcore storm unleashes its fury upon the mortals, casting them into the throes of chaos where their pitiful forms shall dance and writhe in desperate supplication.
The offerings laid before me tonight are but a mere sampling of the cacophony that awaits:
- APE WAR
- FREAK DREAM
- BEAVER FEVER
- GUILE
Three local offerings have quenched my thirst before, their pulsating rhythms and frenzied melodies serving as a veritable feast for my senses. And now, a new addition to the sacrificial altar, a touring band, ignorant of the fate that awaits them, oblivious to the infernal bargain they have unwittingly struck.
Let it be known what I demand, what I crave. The manic energy, the primal fervor, that can only be drawn forth from the frail vessels of humanity as they surrender themselves to the rhythm of chaos.
Red Gate, heed my command, for tonight you are but a stage upon which my herald shall dance, a conduit through which the torrent of madness shall flow.