A solemn hush falls over the group of men dragging the river hoping to find nothing and instead uncovering an unsettling scene that only deepens the mystery. Haunting choir along with disturbing synths highlight this mood-creating cue accented by shaker, strings, taiko and ostinato.

The two desperate thieves had little choice to enter these woods but now the growing feeling of eyes on them has turned palpable, even sinister. It's hard to avoid trouble when trouble finds YOU. Cello, drone and ostinato build intensity and slowly but surely our unfortunate victims begin to realize they will never be leaving this forest again. Time ticks as the pace quickens to the ultimate encounter of the true nature of their impending demise

Something is rotting this grove of cherry blossoms from the inside. A once pleasant place to be has quickly turned dreadfull as the deep red sap drips from the decaying trees leaving puddles of deep crimson on the soil below. From the puddle, a face begins to form. FX loops, metal and pizzicato accent the sticks, synths, and taiko drums of this nightmare before the rising sun.

A moment of clarity and the dawning realization of the danger closing in produces beads of sweat that gather weight on our young agent's brow. Who is chasing whom? A breath away from disaster, the claps, sticks and slices convey a sense of urgency and desperation as the taiko matches our heartbeat.

No matter how nicely dressed this group is one cannot shake the sense of danger. Something...beastly lies beneath the surface, an unspoken aura of violence. This isn't the kind of party you want to be caught mortal in. Strings, metals, synths and taiko set the mood for this cryptic gathering of hungry predators.

Awakening to the sickly yellow ceiling of this asylum every morning strapped to the bed with no hope for escape can drive you mad for real. Slowly the lines between reality and fantasy are blurred beyond recovery. That is the true crime, when you begin to agree with those that declared you criminally insane. Haunting choirs and drones, and fx set the mood of this dystopian nightmare as piano, snare, sticks and strings give way to powerful synths that follow to the bitter end.

A warped house cluttered with thousands of dead clocks suddenly comes alive to the terrorizing sound of plucked and tortured strings, clocking loops of madness, warbling piano and distorted low braams. The pace quickens. Unnatural and relentless, your heart beats faster - what was the way we came in again?

The once-brave team of paranormal investigators searches through the wreckage of their last mission. Aleatoric, swarming violin clusters give way suddenly to a tension-driven pulse of braams, clicking strings, and massive percussion. The tunnel keeps leading deeper, and darker...

A sociopathic surgeon with unclear motives and the worst bedside manner pulls his rusty scalpel from the stained box of tools. There is no anesthesia and there is no hope. Bells, brass and synth loops pace the heart monitor in this intensive care unit from Hell. Drums, drones and scraping metal match the abomination being created.

Creaking doors and distant bells portend of pure, unadulterated terror. The start-stop, jaunting rhythm gives way to a ticking nightmare surrounded by growling braams, out of this world percussion, and whispers from the depths of hell.

An alien planet filled with millions of iridescent plant life; all we need is one sample. But this mission won't be without casualties. Massive delayed hits and screaming risers lead to a head-nodding groove of terror. Low, distorted braams and huge percussion open the field of vision to what scatters the horizon: and it's NOT happy...

Do you...hear a toy piano? Wait...why is...it's morphing. Wooden clocks tick above cavernous drums. Low bending braams give way to a pulse-racing violin ostinato, just as a bent synth comes in from your periphery. The whispers...so many voices...they are a part of you now.

Glitchy transitions and delayed punch hits lead us through hell itself. A heartbeat pulse sets the pace through paths of skittering SFX beasts, whining synth passbys, and screaming bass moments of terror. He is the reason hell bleeds. The helmet of Doom.

Urban Explorers seeking likes and subscribers descend into the vast city below, ignoring the warning signs and livestreaming their sojourn below when suddenly the connection dies as well as their headlamps. Only now do they notice the light coming from below. What is that noise? Strings and brass, claps and drones echo the choir in this creepy journey into terror.

A circle is drawn in salt, a warning to never break it is given, and the summoning begins. Those among us who think this is all silly are the first to face the true terrifying reality and the shock makes one take a step back...a step just too far. Drones, metal, piano, strings, and taiko set the stage for the Devil himself to grace the basement.