Sabat was trapped, helplessly trapped, in his own paralysed body. His mind, conscious but impotent, raged and struggled against the inert flesh. He could sense, feel, the dark encrusted blood that masked his face. Sticky and rancid, more blood has soaked into his clothing, saturated through to the skin.

Beside him the girl was naked, her pale body hideously marked by the knife that had stabbed and sliced through her flesh. Above them loomed the desecrated altar, black candled, the crucifix reversed. But now the waiting was almost over. The ceremony was about to begin.