In a dimly lit chamber, a group of flagellants gather, their bodies etched with sweat and welts. A priest, his voice a thunderous rumble, leads them in prayer and penance. The air thickens with the scent of incense and blood as they lash themselves, their cries echoing like a dark litany. The camera zooms in on the intricate patterns of their welts, the streaks of blood, and the glint of steel on naked flesh. Their bodies convulse with pain and ecstasy, a grim dance of absolution.