The Consecrated Emenation
The rhythmic melody of the seductive sirens'
whispering chant rode upon the midday wind. Inviting,
enticing, hexing, seizing hold of mortal mind, invading the
very heart, and capturing the very soul. It was a low
whisper, it was at first, then it increased in it's gradual
volume, until the very curiosity aroused, and one's
resistance to it dulled just as gradual.
This rhythm continued in perpetuity; enticing, hexing
mesmerizing, and there was no escape into the secular
world about. Indeed, no matter where the physical body
raced to find solitude, there was none. Be it down the street,
into the cellar, into the secluded closet, behind closed doors
of one's fortress walls; behold, even into deep and dark
woods, there was no escape! The chanting rhythmic song
sang on the very wind breathed into the heaving lungs,