Priest of the Black Temple

The obsessive lyrics were a lost hope hidden within the concrete walls of Mandroy. One night, those concrete glories are shaken when a mysterious person delivers a strange message without hiding his small talk.

Ramashankar, the priest of the black temple, possessed a certain credibility among the people of the city. He was blessed with the in-depth nature of his payment. His favorite work was to connect mortal lives with truth. They considered the temple not a neighborhood but a spiritual connection.

One night, when a monster engulfed the city and the wretched people trapped in the pits were desperate for help, Ramashankar noticed something unusual. He heard the sound of a group passing by the temple. Screams and cries echoed in the confined confines of Mandroy.

Ramashankar recalled something pertinent from previous nights. Something was secret, something unusual. And he was afraid.

Midway, a strange fair was heading towards the light. Disappointment and fear hid the eyes, while the pounding of the heart added to the restlessness. Ramashankar kept one foot on the ground of his work and walked away.

A few moments later, they saw a man sitting on the grass, a very weak man with a very disappointed face. Ramashankar saw him and realized that he was not a servant, but a dead man.

"What brings you here?" Ramashankar asked the arrestee.

The dead man's mouth dropped open with that fear. "He... he came."

Ramashankar's heart started pounding. "Who came?"

"He came. He came to you." The voice of the dead was very mournful: "He who has come to set us free."

Ramashankar decided to go ahead and say, "Who has come? Can you show him?"

"Yes, yes, I am."

I can show you.” The corpse's body was shaking as if it had just taken a breath. "But there. there will rise the mighty fire of the unbeliever's personality."

Ramashankar's heart sank. "Who is there?"

"He's there there infernal."

Ramashankar's Lake Gulyan, "The Black Temple?"

The dead man's eyes lit up. "Yes, there he comes."

Ramashankar's pulse quickened. "And what should we do?"

Dead pulled a clamp from his repaired fingers and said, "Get him out; get him away from the temple."

Ramashankar took the reins and moved forward, towards the temple gate. They decided to move inside the temple, where they wanted to drop the angels.

But when Ramashankar opened the door, there stood a smooth Muslim man, the son of a priest reading some Muslim books, and not the devotion of a Hindu Chhatrapati.

"What do you want?" he asked cautiously.

Ramashankar gasped, “I

"Yes?" she asked worriedly.

"Nothing. My fault," Ramashankar said, placing the shackle near his feet.

The priest left Ramashankar, but Ramashankar's heart was still full of fear. He continued to walk away from the Black Temple, trying to save his angels. And from that moment on, he spoke cunningly of fate.

Moments later, a breeze is heard near the temple, and he remembers his wish. A terrible screeching sound followed him as he set out on the foot of his arrest.

"What have you done?" The voice of the dead was heard inside the temple: "Why didn't you think of my protection?"

A knot of worry left Ramashankar's neck, “I

"Did you leave the darkness alone?" The dead man's voice grew louder: "Now you must pay for it."

And there was silence in this world when the voice of the priest of the black temple