(Our scene unfolds in a seedy section of New Orleans, Louisianna. Mardi Gras has been months past, but still the smell of stale beer, urine and vomit waft through the air. The humid night air clings to your skin, pushing and driving it's way into your pours. You begin walking through the city, passing bar after bar, watching as people scurry out like ants heading home. You continue walking, and something catches your eye. A small neon sign, barely lighting in a window. The window itself has a spiderweb crack in it. It's hard to make out anything beyond the window, except for the neon sign that says "De il's Ca r t" flickering on and off. Something pulls you towards the small building that sits on the corner of Canal and Baronne. You grab the handle on the door and it easily twists open. Lowly in the background "Spiders" by System of a Down begins playing as you step forward toward another door. On the door there is a small white sign with red lettering. "WARNING! ONLY THOSE WHO ARE AGE 21 OR OLDER ARE PERMITTED INTO THIS ESTABLISHMENT." Under that sign is another small white sign with black lettering, "Warning! What you will see inside is the darkness that lives within us all. Step inside to find yourself." You read both signs, and not fearing, you open the second door. As the door creeps open you are encompassed by a smokey haze. Your senses are overwhelmed by the stench of stale beer and lust. Ahead of you, you can barely make out a small couch with a man sitting on it, while a woman is crawled between his legs, her head in his crotch. You turn and look to your left to find two women groping each other on a makeshift stage made out of tables. You begin to feel embarassed and want to turn away, but something keeps you from turning away. You want to watch. You need to watch. Something deep down is feeding off of it. Your feet begin moving you further into the smokey haze. You pass by a man who, as you pass by, puts the "white horse" into his viens. His body jolts and then relaxes. Your feet continue to pull you further and further along. As if an eternity passed, you find yourself sitting on a couch against the backwall, looking out toward the smokey haze. You can still see the man on a herion ride, and the two women are now more involved that groping. The man on the couch is paying the woman who is gathering up her belongings, preparing to search for another customer. You feel relaxed, until something catches your eye to the right. A presence sends chills from the back of your neck, down your spine, through your legs and to your toes. The hair on your arms, legs and the back of your neck stand at attention, and you feel frozen with fear. Your eyes glance to the right and you see him. He's been watching you the whole time. He knows you. You know it's hime because of his scar. You see it. You remember it. He remembers you. He remembers how you gave him the scar. His face is aglow as he drags on a cigarette. He smiles that all too familiar devilish grin and smashes the lit cigarette into his forearm. As the flesh simmers around the burning embers, he takes a deep breath and exhales as if orgasming. You remember him. "Spiders" begins to drown out as he rises and begins walking toward you. You try everything you can to get up and run away, but your body is paralyzed. He comes face to face with you...)
"It's been a long time my friend. And now, you've come home. I've been waiting here for you, hoping, wishing, hell, praying that you'd find your way back here. Now my friend, we play my game... the hunter and the prey. I know what is inside of your heart. Together we'll play the symphony of decadance. I the composer, you the instrument."
(As his cold words pierce into you, you leap up and find yourself laying in your bed. You wipe the sweat off of your forehead and wondered why Jasin Bondage has begun to invade your dreams again. It was a dream afterall, wasn't it?)
"It's been a long time my friend. And now, you've come home. I've been waiting here for you, hoping, wishing, hell, praying that you'd find your way back here. Now my friend, we play my game... the hunter and the prey. I know what is inside of your heart. Together we'll play the symphony of decadance. I the composer, you the instrument."
(As his cold words pierce into you, you leap up and find yourself laying in your bed. You wipe the sweat off of your forehead and wondered why Jasin Bondage has begun to invade your dreams again. It was a dream afterall, wasn't it?)
