As you feeble mortals mark the passing of another cycle, days lengthening like the flickering shadows cast by a dying flame, My herald, the pitiful servant of My will, shall once again be dispatched to the hallowed halls of Red Gate. There, amidst the swirling chaos of mortal revelry, a delectable array of offerings awaits, poised to sate the voracious hunger that gnaws at the very fabric of My being.
The potential offerings laid bare before Me are but a mere sampling of mortal endeavors, their names whispered upon the winds of oblivion:
HOPE SLIDE
KYLIE V.
JESS WATERS
Two newcomers stand amongst the ranks of the supplicants, their fate hanging by the slender thread of My mercy, while two repeat offerings, faithful in their submission, await their inevitable fate.
Let the newcomers be forewarned, let them understand the gravity of their situation as they step into the arena of chaos. Tonight, they shall be initiated into the sacred rites of supplication, their energies offered up as tribute to satisfy My unending hunger.
Red Gate, heed My command, for your fate hangs in the balance. Make My herald MOVE.