The heavy sound of boots march past a burnt down, derelict house as the scoundrels hunt down The illusive Contractor and the demented Pri D. They peer through the blackened window frames searching for life to fill their empty souls.
The Contractor and Pri-D are hidden in a false walled, decrepit room and the only light that emits is from one single candle that flickers with an ironic sense of serenity.
Sat cross legged, adjacent to the fulgurating flame is Pri-D. Concentrically around Pri-D lie alien symbols that have been slashed into the creaky, wooden floor boards with artistic ardor.
The Contractor paces anti-clockwise around Pri-D with open arms, chanting tongue as the ground symbols begin to glow a vivid red. Pri-D’s eyes begin to roll, the whites being illuminated by the curious ground inscriptions.
The chants increase in volume and Pri-D begins to shudder uncontrollably as flashes and flares, fill the room, the brightness intensifying with every stride The contractor takes and then suddenly, the room falls into silence and near darkness, the only light being emitted, once again from the single, flickering candle.
A white hue now surrounds Pri-D’s elevated, cross legged body, and as he tilts his head backwards, the whites of his eyes gleam and he initiates the mantra.
“We are the eyes of the devil….”