ENTER THE CULT

CORPSESHOCK – DJ. Producer. Necromancer.

The eccentric pale-faced architect of noise.
He's not mixing tracks – he's conjuring the dead.
Wrapped in decaying leather jackets and always in shades.
He buries the crowd – one drop at a time.

MINA HARKER – Witch. Vampire. Vocal seductress.

Dancing through centuries, dressed as your favorite nightmare.
Her voice hums like ectoplasm and cuts sharper than a ritual blade.
She doesn't sing – she casts spells.

DR. SATAN – Vocalist. Brooding Alchemist of agony.

Long hair, half-mask, full doom.
Was resurrected 100 years too late and started screaming into the void.

Hasn't stopped since.

You press play on that nameless VHS tape left on your doorstep.

The screen flickers. The static breathes.
And suddenly, you're inside a world that was never meant to be broadcast.

A place where some cursed version of 90's MTV still hums - where neon nightmares glow, stitched from the fever dreams of the most deranged minds.

In the haze of electric static, the hiss becomes a whisper:
An angelic voice, pitched up and tortured through grunge distortion, carries a melody that sticks like ectoplasm.
And then the bass hits. Hard. Fast.

Your knees shake in fear of what's coming – until reality itself begins to melt.

A LIGHTFLASH!

And here you are: endless graveyards, suspended outside space and time.

Heavy breathing from behind a cracked tombstone – filthy black hair veiling a sinister face.
And far away, across the fog: a pale gravedigger, shades on, leather torn, waiting.

Sweat. Strobes. Sin.
Until you forget what was real and what was only taped.

But now you finally understand the words of the angelic voice:

“In heaven… everything is fine.”

Welcome to the cult.