1. |
A Tale Painted Crimson
07:46
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Enter this most hallowed place
Tainted with nightmares and crimson tales
The story of a family and a doctor who transcended death
MONSTER
KILLER
SCULPTOR
BUTCHER
Human flesh turned to eldritch art for the old gods' transfiguration
"I have done it! I have found a way to keep them all from dying. My wife, my child, they will never know the pain of death and transcend the human form. They will become something so much greater than themselves, and I will be known as the greatest medical mind of my time. I must begin work immediately"
RIPPING FLESH AND CRACKING BONE
MY CREATIONS, BEAUTIFULLY SEWN
TRANSFUSION, AMPUTATION, TRANSFIGURATION, I AM THE RESURRECTIONIST
Parchment litters a crowded study of terminal diseases and their unfound cures
Enfeebled wife, beloved son, fall ill to a curse that hasn't begun
Darkness takes dear Dorian Ingram
to a world of thoughts and morbid dreams
A gate appears before him, and speaks:
"COMMUNE WITH US AND SAVE YOUR LOVE"
Inside, there are vats filled with formaldehyde and blood
There are creatures inside and his blood ran cold when he saw...
They were not dead.
And the door shuts behind and traps him inside with these horrors untold, no way to survive
He looks for a key, and hears the sound of glass shatter
Horrified, he finds a way to shield his eyes
from the nightmares made flesh that would bring his demise
He finds an ancient journal on the ground which describes his hunters
RIPPING FLESH AND CRACKING BONE
MY CREATIONS BEAUTIFULLY SEWN
TRANSFUSION, AMPUTATION, TRANSFIGURATION
I AM THE RESURRECTIONIST
"I have learned of a crypt in Brasov, Romania said to hold secrets of divine resurrection. I have nowhere else to turn... If this should save Abigail, then it shall be done."
RIPPING FLESH AND CRACKING BONE
MY CREATIONS, BEAUTIFULLY SEWN
TRANSFUSION, AMPUTATION, TRANSFIGURATION
I AM THE RESURRECTIONIST
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2. |
Brasov 1898
05:33
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I search through the haunted cold
A fortress of shadows lost to the winds
This black eldritch crypt that will claim my life
A cursed presence finally awakes from its slumber
In the dark down below lies wisdom of eldritch gods
Oh, they whisper my name
In dead tongues arcane, spewing black flame
I descend
Through haunted crypts of Brasov
Through the ice and the snow
I find the haunted crypts of Brasov
I draw closer to the darkened altar
In the center of this grand Mausoleum
Guarded by a creature vile and horned
Skeletal remains growing ever malformed.
...only in myth should these creatures be borne
In the darkest depths of eternal night
The blackest pits of the abyss I find
The Polyandrium
A tongue foul and strange,
Ageless and arcane letters on an ancient text bound in stitched ivory leather.
Inked in sanguine calligraphy by a hand not angel or devil or man.
OH WHAT FOUL MAGICK IS THIS THAT LIES BEFORE ME
GODS WITH THE POWER TO COMMAND NATURE HERSELF
THE PROFANE BLACK FLAME
THAT BURNS MY HANDS WITH A PAIN UNLIKE ANY OTHER
IT BURNS IN MY MIND THE MEMORIES OF A THOUSAND LIFETIMES AND THE KNOWLEDGE OF A MAGICK OLDER THAN TIME ITSELF.
A PRIMORDIAL FORCE STORED IN BLACK FILLED WITH INSCRIPTIONS OF CREATURES THOUGHT TO BE MYTH
THE MINOTAUR
THE CHIMERA
THE HARPY
THE VAMPIRE
In these darkened crypts I find the key to life everlasting
All waiting in its vampiric home of Brasov
A sanguine chapter begins anew as a blackened sky blots out the sun.
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3. |
The Resurrectionist
07:08
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I return from the blackened crypts of Brasov
To the frozen Carpathian waste, surrounded by endless night
A gnawing fear in a fragile mind
Abigail, my love
I will not let you die
Awakening in a pitch black, shifting void
Staring into the lidless eye of death
No light, no hope, no life
A primordial voice heard no more
Every word the sound of an empire's last breath
A tongue spoken older than time itself
...I'm falling
"WE OFFER YOU GIFTS OF KNOWLEDGE
FOR YOU ARE OUT OF TIME
TOUCH THE BOOK AND BE REBORN THE RESURRECTIONIST"
Become the Resurrectionist
Perform the work of the formless one
With a surgical mind, transfigure the dead
Thy will be done
"THE POWER TO SAVE THE ONE YOU LOVE LIES FIRMLY IN YOUR GRASP"
"I awake in my moonlight chamber, drenched in sweat, unable to rest. What dark arts lie within that cursed book? Gifts of life? Control of death?"
My mind, unbidden
Drawn to these ancient pages
What waits in the night where darkness rages?
"The text turns to images, a grand morbid tapestry for gods long forsaken. Hieroglyphs of the blackest arts. Ritual surgery, arcane procedures granting eternal life over the power of death. Exhuming the dead to transfigure the living."
I BECOME
I COMMIT MYSELF
אמהנקמעוהאחזארהזמהדכאמומ
טוטגיללוצדפיאללנסחערהבכה
התנאבדיתראשהנפצחלטמזהרוש
הזהסבבגישספיאכפסרראומנומ
בלהדונחדלחזקמניכודעגבבזז
דחיגלבבעטגזעאומגמדיהרהמק
אידלילחדללוטנאמעירכשפהלכ
יענהמהוזרסערבמודוינועבונ
דחהגזמעובלעממשהינהחזזהתכ
I become the Resurrectionist
Transfiguring the human form
With a dessicated knife
From death is born immortal life
Ripping flesh and cracking bone, my creations beautifully sewn.
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4. |
Minotaur
10:01
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Mutilated corpses line these idyllic streets
Hung up by their entrails as grotesque effigies
Of power misplaced, abused, corrupted
Their wounds run with clotted blood
A gash in the abdomen removes their rotten guts
THEY CALL ME BEAST
THE MINOTAUR THAT STALKS THE NIGHT
A PRIMAL NEED
TO CEASE THE SINGING DEEP INSIDE
"KILL FOR ME"
A THOUSAND VOICES IN MY MIND
TO AVENGE MY SNUFFED OUT CANDLELIGHT
Calling card of evisceration, abdominal incision, intestinal expulsion
A single cut, dissection done by hand
Action must be taken to silence this horrid threat
Labyrinthine tunnels build ages long ago, an altar built by gods with domain of BLOOD AND BONE
Naked on cold stone and drenched with sanguine gore
He's chained up like a goat
Draped in midnight black and sigils of crimson red
Screams of helpless victims heard only by the dead
CHAINED
LIKE CATTLE
SERVE
THE CHOIR
I grab my bloodstained hammer, crushing the knees with two swift cracks
Legs inverted, can't escape my ritual, the night is only just begun.
Intestinal removal, heart, lungs, spleen, liver
Give me the life I deserve as I traverse Styx river.
Knife too slow, won't even cut, I use my mouth as I bite into their guts
Slashing, gnawing, biting, feeding, I serve my gods
I DO AS TOLD
I KILL AT WILL
FEED ON THE WEAK
I SERVE MY GODS
Remove the face
A bloody skull eternally screaming
Peel the skin, flesh fully exposed
My sharpened blade a cut straight up the abdomen
Vivisected, eviscerated, I look my victim in the eyes
Staring at his beating heart until he finally dies
A surgery with a bestial butcher draped in the constables gore
Judgment from the hands of Moloch
'Til a FLASH and the smell of gunpowder, he lies dead on the floor
"Hello, I am doctor Dorian Ingram, and I would love to study this specimen. We could learn so much from his brain, don't you think?"
Where was once a man, now a best emerges
A titan of stitched flesh, stapled bone
THE MINOTAUR RISES
Shattering glass, spilling formaldehyde
I confront the man responsible
My lips, they move not
Replaced by the rotted head of a bull
MINOTAUR
THE NAME I TAKE AS A VANGUARD OF TORTURE
I BECOME THE GOD OF PAIN
MY CHOIR
THEY SING FOR ME
"You have become something that no man has ever experienced. You are my immortal minotaur, and you will serve me as your master."
A DOOR OPENS BEFORE ME
MY KILLERS, THEY WAIT TO TAKE BACK A CORPSE
NOT KNOWING I'LL MAKE THOUSANDS MORE
I show no remorse.
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5. |
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Bonesaw and blade
Carving a monument of flesh to a deathless god
beneath a burning black sun
Careful incision brings forth a sanguine font of vampiric life
Borne from a corpse so small
Fragile, not dead
Soon made a titan
Bathe in the splendor of my glorious knife!
Every cut brings necromantic life
A CALL FROM THE DARK
BLESSED BE MY ART AS THE WINGS OF THE VULTURE UNFURL
A BURNING BLACK SUN LIGHTS THE CORPSES BELOW
AS THEY ROT UPON THY THRONE
The artist blind to screams from his own kind
Naught else passes through the anti-cosmic mind
Tiny limbs discarded and tossed aside
Somnambular form possession shall save this fated bride
Face removed from my firstborn
The skin stretched out and dried so the harpy's winds be formed
A CALL FROM THE DARK
BLESSED BE MY ART AS THE WINGS OF THE DRAGON UNFURL
A BURNING BLACK SUN LIGHTS THE CORPSES BELOW
AS THEY ROT UPON MY THRONE
"I awake in my familiar bed drenched in a frigid, spectral sweat
What hell-ensorcerelled dream did I succumb to while my body slept?
My wife beside, fearful she’ll breathe her final breath.
And my son, should be sleeping soundly in his bed, I open his room with a careful step, cross the threshold and behold a room. Drenched. in RED."
Those screams
They were my son
Oh, how was this done?
My dreams taken hold by formless ones who CALL FROM BEYOND
What madness have I wrought?
Actions beyond any though
My work done for naught,
For amongst the corpses he rots
"First my son, and soon my wife. I must act now before she dies, LET THIS FOUL MAGICK TAKE ITS HOLD. I WILL GRANT US IMMORTAL LIFE"
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6. |
Chimera
07:48
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Writhing dread
Haunter of the dark,
Gnawing fear of the primal mind
Reveals a predator of unnatural kind
We, the whispering tongues in the minds of man
We, voices of chthonic dark
Creator…
A voice without time breathes antediluvian life
We rise!
Not one but all
Guardians of these hallowed halls
Those who enter hear our call
My world turns to dusk
Vampiric sun alight
Drawing ever closer
Voices of the painted night
Chimera!
A legion fills this malformed husk
With a thousand minds
A thousand eyes
A thousand lives
Cursed, a foul aberration of life.
Wounds Unhealed
Wet with rancid, clotted blood
Hands as knives
Skinless, stripped to sharpened bone
Legs replaced
With arms to rival arachnid gods
Our eyes see all in the gathering dark
Faces stitched together in surgical art
Eviscerating victims to our master’s mirth
Hastening a final vampiric rebirth
We rise
Until our decayed flesh rots away
And the gods of mankind bleed
Our halls run red with master’s wroth
Spilling blood as a primal need
Chimera!
A thousand souls scream in torture!
Pile up corpses for the coming kingdom!
Guardians of these hallowed halls
Those who enter hear our call
Chimera!
Forever watching in the night
Chimera!
With a thousand minds
A thousand eyes,
A thousand lives,
We spit upon your gift of life!
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7. |
Abigail
11:57
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“Oh what have I done?
Is this the beast that I've become?
My dearest Abigail, I promised you life eternal, and so you shall be blessed”
A final midnight chapter
The heavens writhe with a thunderous dirge
For my sweet Abigail
An elegy of a sanguine rebirth
A hollowed heart once warm now breathes a saddened chill
Her lifeless gossamer eyes, stolen of their free will
Oh how I once again wished to see the sun upon her face,
The corpse is growing cold, I need to act with haste
Deathless she becomes
Flesh and blood
A mother entwined with loving son
What have I done?
What is this beast your love’s become?
Oh what have I done?
My cherished wife, beloved son.
ABIGAIL!
WHERE DO WE GO
WHEN YOU'RE SO FAR AWAY
I DREAM OF YOUR FACE
BUT OUR MEMORIES GROW SO COLD
So sweet and pale she reclines in her own deathmask divine
A portrait left unfinished, our love lost to the sands of time
A whisper in my memory, naught but visions in a troubled mind
So on this moonlit winter’s night, I cut into my bride
Return and haunt the skies with me, forever by my side
A single incision down the spine begins divine rebirth
Peeling skin, stripping muscle, she’ll be my finest work
The knife, she begs for more
My wife, slathered in gore
What have I done?
I have unearthed my only son.
ABIGAIL!
COME BACK TO MY ARMS
ON LEATHER WINGS
YOU WILL ASCEND
I WILL NOT LET YOU GO
ABIGAIL
IT FEELS SO COLD
WHY CAN'T YOU HEAR ME?
ABIGAIL!
"Your son shall be the wings that raise you from this veiled sleep.
Mother and child, together as one. As it is written, my will be done."
A crimson sacrifice spread eagled on my altar
Back split open, ribs removed, incisions made
How delicately my subject lies, she’ll know no earthly demise,
A son, cold and pale, lies beside his loving mother
Crucified on a table, lifted above any other
Removing the arms at the shoulder
Tiny bones sawn through
Stripping the skin away,
Sewn back together in a sheet
My son, amputated
Skinned, his limbs on the table
Spare parts, nothing more
"Blood eagled, she lies with wings of stitched ivory leather fused to her spine."
Skin grafts, bone replacement, expansion of the ribcage from behind
Closing the wound, one more graft is needed
Our son will always have his face looking towards the heavens
Sewn between the wings he gave for mother’s dark transfiguration
ABIGAIL!
COME BACK TO MY ARMS
ABIGAIL
MY ETERNAL HEART
ABIGAIL
I BECOME THIS GOD OF DEATH FOR YOU
NOW RISE
NOW RISE
NOW RISE
RISE
RISE
NOW RISE
"This is the beast your love's become"
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8. |
Vrykolakas
14:30
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"Oh gods of flesh and bone, I submit myself wholly and completely to your power. This is the moment my work is done"
Necromantic thoughts turn the world to ash
An ancient eldritch curse of midnight black
There is no other pain that could leave this sanguine stain
Than murders all in vain for love immortal
Heavy knocks assault my door, they seek to stop the work
I played life's fated game, the stakes always the same
Until corpses I did maim to bring life anew
"This is no procedure like I have done before, I gladly give my life should they ask for more"
Amongst my synthetic family, they assist my transformation
The purest form of man, my transfiguration
WE KNOW NOW WHAT STANDS BEFORE US
THIS HORRID FORCE THAT GIVES US LIFE
THE DARKEST OF SHADOWS FORGOTTEN IN TIME
RESURRECTION OF THE VAMPIRE
VRYKOLAKAS
Naked on a steel altar, a vivisected specimen ready for a vile surgery
Anesthetic not an option, they cut down my spine
Diagrams and parchments adorn my hallowed abattoir
A written history of rituals from the servants of the dark
They reach inside those slender cuts and place the tools inside
Ripping, tearing, freeing from my tender mortal hide
Skin torn from muscle
My bones, broken, reformed
Enveloped in a sickly green sea of light, I can feel my body changing inside
My teeth painfully elongate into needles
My ribs so far exposed, I question if I feel any pain
My hands file to points, merely tools for draining prey
And great black wings erupt from my spine
"Lords of the polyandral deep! Of the stars and the depths! I am your chosen Resurrectionist. Shape my flesh to be your greatest servant and allow me to rule this plane of mortality, that I may bring glory to your names through my great work."
RIPPNG FLESH AND CRACKING BONE
MY CREATIONS BEAUTIFULLY SEWN
WE KNOW NOW WHAT STANDS BEFORE US
THIS HORRID FORCE THAT GIVES US LIFE
THE DARKEST OF SHADOWS FORGOTTEN IN TIME
RESURRECTION OF THE VAMPIRE
THEY KNOW NOT WHAT STANDS BEFORE THEM
THIS WINGED BEAST IN THEIR TERRIFIED EYES
I ARISE ONCE AGAIN
VRYKOLAKAS!
"My body now a bloodied study on human anatomy, my teeth painfully elongate into needles, the blood drains from my body, yet I remain sanguine stained. My ribs so far exposed, I question if I feel pain. A thirst wells up in the blackest pits of my soul... Is this the final chapter?"
THE VAMPIRE
These great black wings erupt from my spine
Bringing dawn of eternal night
There was no other pain that could leave this sanguine stain
Than murders all in vain for Abigail
You will not have her again!
I AM THE GOD OF DEATH
CHILDREN!
See the worms writhe and cry as they burn our home
Go forth and feed on flesh and blood and bone
They believe their god can stop us now
Show them what the fuck he sent instead
"I see now with vampiric eyes. Teeth as daggers, hands as knives. I see them all lay before me. Where was once friends, countrymen, now a grand feast for those who have been blessed by the polyandral dark. Abigail, this is the beast your love's become"
RIPPING FLESH AND CRACKING BONE
MY CREATIONS BEAUTIFULLY SEWN
TRANSFUSION
AMPUTATION
I AM THE GIVER OF LIFE, PATRON OF DEATH
I AM THE RESURRECTIONIST
YOU KNOW NOT WHAT STANDS BEFORE YOU
THIS HORRID FORCE THAT GIVES THEM LIFE
DARKEST OF SHADOWS FORGOTTEN IN TIME
I AWAKE FROM ETERNAL SLUMBER ONCE AGAIN
VRYKOLAKAS
I WILL TEAR THROUGH ALL YOUR FLESH
AND I WILL CRUSH EACH AND EVERY BONE
MY CREATIONS, MY CHILDREN
BEAUTIFULLY SEWN
RIPPING FLESH AND CRACKING BONE
MY CREATIONS BEAUTIFULLY SEWN
TRANSFUSION
AMPUTATION
I RISE
I DIE
RESURRECTIONIST
"A home once bright and full of love, now painted with assailants blood. Everything I've done, I've done for you. But at what cost? Abigail, I burn for thee."
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Resurrectionist Los Angeles, California
Furious and expressive Symphonic Black Metal from the US. Weaving tales of gothic horror, cosmic terror, and rending the veil between this world and the next. Devotion unto death.
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