Thirty-nine Eyeballs Down My Throat

"A one-way ticket to find love," was labeled across the ticket in bold gold lettering. An old man was standing up in a silver-gold uniform. In front of me were fourteen different women each covered under the hood of darkness, sitting in some wooden chairs. Over their heads was a sign that read in big black times new roman "infatuations and disappointments, the goal of life". A young lady from the far right started to walk toward me.
She had a blue dress on and held a flower in her left hand, a cross on her chest was a pitch-black upside-down pentagram. As she moves her hand away from her face, she drops the flower onto the ground. Her left-hand reaches for my face placing the thumb on my chin. The lady pulled down forcing my mouth open. A mixture of the taste of my saliva and the blood on her hand fills my mouth.