In the heart of the city, a secret door swings open, revealing a den of iniquity. The walls are adorned with symbols of the occult, and the air is thick with the scent of sex and the promise of sin. Brianna Allah, the night's hostess, stands before her congregation, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight. She begins to chant, her voice rising and falling in rhythm with the thrusting hips of her followers. As the night wears on, the room becomes a writhing mass of flesh, the sounds of pleasure drowned out only by the cries for more, more, more.