Lit by phantom black moonlight, skeletal trees shadow the land as grasping hands reaching up from The Pit, a twisted pathway strewn with leaves hued with Abyssal colors, the scent of petrichor joins morbidly wailing demon winds chill the bones, whispering to come closer to Jack O’ Lanterns each bearing a demonic rictus, sigils, and the damned before, aglow with hellfire candles, forming the way to Satan’s Throne…