Witches’ Sabbath Pt. 5

The cameraman was on his back shooting upside-down. Rolling over to gain his knees, he zoomed in on the mouth, catching the woman’s silent scream for posterity.

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Witches’ Sabbath Pt. 4

The hooded witch, like cowled Death, stepped into the shrine. His footfalls echoed through the dank catacombs.

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Witches’ Sabbath Pt. 3

After the last kiss was bestowed, the witch trailed the disciples. Behind him, the cameraman descended the stairs, his film ink black until torchlit stalactites came into view.

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Witches’ Sabbath Pt. 2

The graven image of Satan was twelve feet tall. Clawlike, its cloven hooves were screwed to the floor.

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Witches’ Sabbath Pt. 1

Wherever else hell may be, it’s in the human mind. Their bodies naked and their faces hidden by masks, some fornicating left and right of the ballroom floor, others whirling about the room to the beat of pagan drums, the Demons prepared for the Ritual.

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