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"deceit" unisex hoodie
"deceit" unisex hoodie
Regular price
$71.50 CAD
Regular price
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$71.50 CAD
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In the far reaches of the Glimmering Woods, where the trees whispered secrets of ancient times, a village stood, guarded by the statues of winged sentinels, their faces eternally hidden in the shadow of their hoods. The villagers worshiped these celestial beings, believing them to be angels, protectors sent from the heavens.
One statue, however, unlike the serene others, had wings not smooth and feathers pristine but wrinkled, like aged parchment. Its skin was an unnatural pale, a white that seemed to absorb the light around it. Villagers felt unease when near it, yet they dared not question its divine origin.
It was during the longest night of winter, when the barrier between worlds grew thin, that the statue stirred. A subtle shift at first, then a crack like the sound of thunder in a clear sky echoed as the creature stepped from its pedestal, its true form obscured by the cloak of its own flesh.
The entity moved through the village, and where it tread, shadows seemed to cling, light dimmed, and the air grew heavy. It spoke in a voice that was like a melody, words not understood but felt, a song that resonated with the soul’s deepest desires.
“Serve me,” it whispered, “and be blessed with the grace of angels.”
Mesmerized by its celestial guise, the villagers obeyed. They brought it offerings, built it a shrine, and when it asked for more, they did not hesitate. It requested a companion, someone pure of heart, to serve by its side in the temple.
A young woman, Elara, known for her kindness, was chosen. But on the eve of her consecration, her grandmother, Mave, who had long studied the old texts, discovered the horrifying truth. This being was no angel but a malevolent creature of a forgotten era, a Nephilim, whose angelic appearance was but a ruse to enslave mortal souls.
Mave pleaded with the villagers, but the entity had woven its deception deep into their hearts. They would not believe her, blinded by false promises of divine favor.
Determined to save Elara, Mave entered the temple armed with ancient incantations. The Nephilim, sensing its secrets known, dropped all pretense of divinity. The shadows at its feet writhed, and its wrinkled wings unfurled menacingly.
Mave chanted the banishing rite, her voice unwavering, but the Nephilim advanced, whispering temptations, promising immortality, power, anything to halt her spell.
They stood locked in a battle of wills, the ancient words against the dark whispers. As dawn approached, with a final, desperate surge of strength, Mave completed the rite. A blinding light filled the temple, and the creature screamed, a sound both beautiful and terrible as it was torn from the mortal realm.
The village awoke from the spell, their minds cleared. Mave had saved them, but the cost was grave. Elara lay motionless, her heart stilled by the lingering touch of the Nephilim.
The Glimmering Woods returned to their silent vigil, but the villagers no longer worshiped the statues. They mourned for those lost and whispered prayers of thanks to the true guardian angels, hoping never again to be deceived by a creature of malevolence masquerading as a messenger of light.
* * *
Who knew that the softest hoodie you'll ever own comes with such a cool design. You won't regret buying this classic streetwear piece of apparel with a convenient pouch pocket and warm hood for chilly evenings.
• 100% cotton face
• 65% ring-spun cotton, 35% polyester
• Front pouch pocket
• Self-fabric patch on the back
• Matching flat drawstrings
• 3-panel hood
• Blank product sourced from Pakistan
This product is made especially for you as soon as you place an order, which is why it takes us a bit longer to deliver it to you. Making products on demand instead of in bulk helps reduce overproduction, so thank you for making thoughtful purchasing decisions!
One statue, however, unlike the serene others, had wings not smooth and feathers pristine but wrinkled, like aged parchment. Its skin was an unnatural pale, a white that seemed to absorb the light around it. Villagers felt unease when near it, yet they dared not question its divine origin.
It was during the longest night of winter, when the barrier between worlds grew thin, that the statue stirred. A subtle shift at first, then a crack like the sound of thunder in a clear sky echoed as the creature stepped from its pedestal, its true form obscured by the cloak of its own flesh.
The entity moved through the village, and where it tread, shadows seemed to cling, light dimmed, and the air grew heavy. It spoke in a voice that was like a melody, words not understood but felt, a song that resonated with the soul’s deepest desires.
“Serve me,” it whispered, “and be blessed with the grace of angels.”
Mesmerized by its celestial guise, the villagers obeyed. They brought it offerings, built it a shrine, and when it asked for more, they did not hesitate. It requested a companion, someone pure of heart, to serve by its side in the temple.
A young woman, Elara, known for her kindness, was chosen. But on the eve of her consecration, her grandmother, Mave, who had long studied the old texts, discovered the horrifying truth. This being was no angel but a malevolent creature of a forgotten era, a Nephilim, whose angelic appearance was but a ruse to enslave mortal souls.
Mave pleaded with the villagers, but the entity had woven its deception deep into their hearts. They would not believe her, blinded by false promises of divine favor.
Determined to save Elara, Mave entered the temple armed with ancient incantations. The Nephilim, sensing its secrets known, dropped all pretense of divinity. The shadows at its feet writhed, and its wrinkled wings unfurled menacingly.
Mave chanted the banishing rite, her voice unwavering, but the Nephilim advanced, whispering temptations, promising immortality, power, anything to halt her spell.
They stood locked in a battle of wills, the ancient words against the dark whispers. As dawn approached, with a final, desperate surge of strength, Mave completed the rite. A blinding light filled the temple, and the creature screamed, a sound both beautiful and terrible as it was torn from the mortal realm.
The village awoke from the spell, their minds cleared. Mave had saved them, but the cost was grave. Elara lay motionless, her heart stilled by the lingering touch of the Nephilim.
The Glimmering Woods returned to their silent vigil, but the villagers no longer worshiped the statues. They mourned for those lost and whispered prayers of thanks to the true guardian angels, hoping never again to be deceived by a creature of malevolence masquerading as a messenger of light.
* * *
Who knew that the softest hoodie you'll ever own comes with such a cool design. You won't regret buying this classic streetwear piece of apparel with a convenient pouch pocket and warm hood for chilly evenings.
• 100% cotton face
• 65% ring-spun cotton, 35% polyester
• Front pouch pocket
• Self-fabric patch on the back
• Matching flat drawstrings
• 3-panel hood
• Blank product sourced from Pakistan
This product is made especially for you as soon as you place an order, which is why it takes us a bit longer to deliver it to you. Making products on demand instead of in bulk helps reduce overproduction, so thank you for making thoughtful purchasing decisions!
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