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Carach Angren is one of the finest black metal acts at the moment. Started back in 2003 by two Vaultage-members in the Netherlands, recorded their demo 'The Chase Vault Tragedy' in 2004 and releases the EP 'Ethereal Veiled Existence' in 2005. Maddening Media picked them up in 2007 to record and release a great album called 'Lammendam' in 2008. Carach Angren's fanbase started to grow fast and a second album called 'Death Came Through A Phantom Ship' was released early 2010. On both albums Carach Angren tells us a ghost story. With 'Lammendam' they'll teach us about the myth 'the White Lady of Lammendam' and 'Death Came Through A Phantom Ship' follows the life of Captain Van Der Decken and his ship; The Flying Dutchman. Carach Angren means 'Iron Jaws' in the fictional language Sindarian and is also the name of the fortified pass of North-Western Mordor in the Lord of the Rings. May 18th 2012 marks the day of the release of Carach Angren's third full-length album 'Where The Corpses Sink Forever'. On February 23rd 2015 Carach Angren will release 'This Is No Fairytale'.

Fourth full-length album in the making

Dutch black metallers CARACH ANGREN are currently putting the finishing touches to the pre-production of their upcoming fourth full-length, which title and release date are yet to be unveiled.

The band will enter Tidalwave Studio on June 10th to record the album together with Patrick Damiani (FALKENBACH, ROME, UMBRA ET IMAGO). The follow-up to 2012’s ‘Where The Corpses Sink Forever’ will be mixed by acclaimed producer Peter Tägtgren - Official (DIMMU BORGIR, IMMORTAL, SEPTICFLESH, CHILDREN OF BODOM, AMORPHIS, and many others).

The band issued the following statement:

“Our writing process is finally reaching its end and we are very excited to once again enter Tidal Wave Studio to record our fourth full length concept album! We are very much looking forward to work with our long time partner in crime Patrick Damiani, and, for the first time, with Peter Tägtgren. We can't wait to present this monster to our fans! This will by far be the most gruesome album we have ever done -- yet!"

First song of the new album is called "There's No Place Like Home", the album This Is No Fairytale will be released February 23rd 2015

There's No Place Like Home

Play the first song of the epic new album
‘This is No Fairytale’ coming early 2015!

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Tracklist and lyrics

1. Once Upon a Time...

[instrumental]

2. There's No Place Like Home

Once upon a time, there stood a house of ill fame
A drug property associated with violence and crime
There lived a family in despair, sorrow and tragedy

Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend,
A sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin
His soul was meant for the devil, it was rotten from within...
After all these years of sin.

Mother was a skeleton whore,
Fucked up on heroin wine and pills
Whatever she could score
more more more!
Her black circled eyes were simply empty
Her body was bruised and scarred
Oh, life was hard!

And if her sick alcoholic husband had a temper
He would beat up his wife.
One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice.
No! Not deep enough-for she survived!
Once their marriage,
An enchantment of love and trust.

Hopes and dreams became nightmares of shame,
Abuse and disgust,
Assault,assault!
Domestic violence!
Family battery!
Rape, violence, violence, violence, violence!
Assault, assault!
Abuse, abuse, domestic violence!
Assault, assault!

Once upon a time
They were blessed with two children
A boy and a girl
Now by the age of twelve and nine
Traumatized and neglected
In a household of blood, tears and wine!

This night, father became a completely insane
The children awoke by a horrible tumult
From downstairs, sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs
But the children fell asleep again
And the girl had a disturbing dream:

A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth,
A smell of alcohol all around.
She doesn't understand and cannot defend herself
When will this suffocating dream end?
Finally! She is able to breathe

But when her bastard father shut the door behind him
She realized:
This nightmare was no dream! No dream! NO DREAM!

3. When Crows Tick on Windows

Three quite calm nights went by.
Merely the silence before a new tempest arrived.
All hell breaks loose on night four.
The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother
with his leather belt while she falls to the floor.
The fear and tension is rising by the day.
The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake
by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape.
Tick-tack! It's time to go!
For there's a crow... Tick!Tack... Ticking on her window.
She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling
that someone is going to die.
Next morning they leave everything behind.
They bring some clothes,water and bread.
They run with fear
but without hesitation and regret,
without looking back.

Darkness has fallen.
Two children are afraid and lost in the night.
They walk on an old road when a car appears
and they're too slow to hide.
Goddamn! He found them!
Goddamn! He found them!
Goddamn! He found them...
His eyes glow like those of SATAN himself!
He's cursing,pounding,screaming!
Throws his son into the car.
Hits his little daughter so hard!
Tell me the truth. I know this was you.
But no more, little whore.

I'll punish you like I've never done before.
Goddamn! Goddamn!
His eyes glow like those of SATAN himself!
They get beaten,locked up and mistreated.
There's no place like home!

And she opens her eyes after another brutal night.
Weeping wind whining hopeless tones
and there's no sunshine,it's still dark outside.
The living room is trashed.
There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere.
Father still passed out on the couch.
Where's mother? And why is there water dripping down the stairs?

She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother
holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom,
As if he had just seen a ghost.
His body is frozen, eyes wide open.
He does not react to her voice.
What's wrong? A tear rolls down his pale face.
And then!
The sight of their dead mother,
floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub.
She had left the water faucet open,
taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists.

No! She is dead! She is dead! Mother is dead!
No! Mama,why? Oh mother, goodbye...
Mommy,why? Oh mother, goodbye...

When crows tick on windows
Oh, when crows tick on windows...

4. Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb

They have to go.
Get out of the house!
Get out of the house!
Leave! Right now!

They need help!
But no soul seems to be around

Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside
As if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died

Traumatized and shocked!
With trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag.

Run!

The monster is still asleep
And his two children run fast while they weep

Driven by an intense anxiety
The second escape to safety
They will never forget such a devastating sight
The image of their mother's successful suicide

They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake
There's another path through the woods they now will take

The children are tired and afraid
They went astray from the only path
They are now lost in the cold depths of these baleful woods
The dark is getting thicker and thicker
Oh... come little brother, we must seek shelter now
We will wait until the next day
At dawn we will find the way

Oh thank god, daylight!
It was a most frightening and dreary night
The sun smiles friendly down upon this place
It lights a path out of this maze

The forest is now behind them
And the city has been found
Though their attention gets drawn
To a small weather-worn playground

Hungry
Thirsty
Such an exhausting journey
Catching their breaths
On a scratched bench
Next to a rusty slide
Here hangs a filthy stench
They hear a squeaking sound
And someone suddenly begins to sing

Ha-haha-haha-haha-ha

A man dressed up as a clown, singing songs on the swing

His face seems friendly but also kind of sick
And... ta-da!
He makes their sorrows shortly disappear
By performing a magic trick

Oh, children,
There is a house built of gingerbread
Covered with cakes and a thousand sweets
It is mine.
Follow me.
You will see.
You can eat.
You'll be warm.
You'll be just fine.

He conjures up two candies
They look sweet but are somehow tasteless
They become drowsy
In the back of the car
And then they lose their consciousness
They lose their consciousness

Children, there is no house built of gingerbread ahead
My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead
But one thing I promise you is true
No one will ever find you

5. Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden

Neither white pebble-stones
nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail
for them to be led along crooked old trees
looking like twisted shapes of the dead.

Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough.
It flew away and they followed it
until it alighted on the roof of a little house,
constructed of gingerbread and confectionary.

So heavenly!
They began to eat.
Then a soft voice cried from the parlour:
"Nibble,nibble,gnaw,
is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?"
And the children answered:
"It's the wind,the heaven-born wind,"
and went on eating without disturbing themselves.

It was as if the house moved,
and in that moment,
the little white bird on the rooftop
made a horrible shriek,
instead a black crow flew away over the trees.
Gretel dropped the cake she held.
She fell down on her knees,
began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal.
She couldn't breathe.
Chocking and chewing on the guts
spewing from her mouth.
Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose.
She was bleeding like a pig.
Until she dropped dead!

The skies turned red instantly
while the candy cottage
transformed into a huge festering ulcer.
The stench of old blood and black pus...

Mmm...

Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh
crawling with flies,maggots and snakes.
This process of decay seemed quickly to spread.
It crawled over life and left it for dead.
Hansel took a few steps back.
He decided to turn around,to run away and then...
He looked straight into the face of a witch.
She whispered a spell,crafted in hell:
"Nibble,nibble,gnaw.
Hansel! I will eat your lifeless flesh...
Still warm... but raw"

6. Possessed by a Craft of Witchery

Abducted by another freak of society.
Two little pigs are snatched by the wolf
in this stone-cold reality.
Temped by the serpent in disguise.
Poisoned by forbidden sweets
in a promised paradise,
built of lies.

They are taken.
Their hands tied to their backs.
Their mouths taped shut.
They awake in a concrete chamber.
Stones instead of gingerbread.
Two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb.
By the scum of our own kind
this treacherous web has been spun.
Numbered by fear they wait...
for an aggressive hungry spider to appear.
Too late to run away.
They have been misled.
No rooftop made of cake.
No walls built of bread.
Not even a glimpse of light
is reaching inside.
Neither from the sun
nor from the moon.
For these are no windows of clear sugar
built in this dreary room.
Thoughts of milk,pancakes with treacle,
and warm beds draped with silk.
A delicious promise has been broken
and the intention behind is of a malicious kind.
This is no fairy-tale house
surrounded by caramel flowers
in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees.
This is the residence of a deranged psychopath
who truly believes to be possessed
by a craft of witchery.
He kills children in the name of a witch.
A demonic voice compels him
to wander as a friendly clown.
Searching in every town,
until flesh victims are found.
The voice of the witch
spits venomous words in his head.
It can only be silenced
when infants are dead.
Her ghost slithers
like black fog down the chimney at night.
Only he can see this tormenting parasite.
Dragging the children from the cellar
into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice.
The walls are blotched with religious symbols
to glorify an infernal paradise.
He locks the girl up in an iron cage
to witness her young brother's death.
Now she will hear all his screams
until he draws his last breath.
The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor,
upon the sign of the witch.
The children scream:
"No more!"
"Shut the fuck up!
I will now take his precious little life."

Whispering unholy rhymes
while holding a black-hilted knife.
And he stabs like a maniac
because the witch gave permission...
to mutilate the child beyond recognition.

7. Killed and Served by the Devil

He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death.
He keeps slashing and slicing
even after his last breath.
Ill-fated gods are given praise.
Whilst stabbing the infant's torso,limbs and face.
Gaping wounds gushing blood and gore,
covering the pentacle on the floor.
No way to die at that age.
Slaughtered before his sister's eyes
staring from the cage.

Relieved,for the witch's voice
now whispers and laughs.
The killer leaves the room
but comes back with an axe.
He chops up the corpses.
Tosses his body parts into plastic bags.
Drags them to the garden outside.
To be buried in an unmarked grave on this night.
The poor girl who has lost her mother
is now forced to bury
what's left of her dismembered brother.
A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden.
Buried next to the other
in the backyard of Death himself.

Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag.
She has never seen
suck a terrible bloodbath before.
Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel.
She's forced to clean
the lugubrious mess off the floor.
Asking the murder what will happen with her life,
he answers:
"You will serve me as my slave
until your inevitable sacrifice.
For the witch's wish and will is my command to kill"

It's dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath;
A fine meal of beans,bread,meat,and some wine.
Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day.
Then the killer has something special to say.
"I saved your brother's most valuable part.
Before the burial I cut out his precious little heart.
Swallowing the souls of the victims...
their hearts are what I eat.
Your brother's soul has now been devoured.
So tell me... did you like the meat?"

8. The With Perished in Flames

She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal
nearly suffocating on her vomit
in front of the gloating cannibal.
She awakes in the cage.
Something has changed.
Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage.
Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife.
As long as the voice keeps whispering
she will stay alive.
She is seriously considering suicide.
There is no doubt
To kill herself is the only way out.
"I will be butchered and buried like my brother.
I'd rather cut my wrist just like my mother."

Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before,
she consumes fear and despair
until she cares for suicide no more.
And so the embittered girl starts thinking
of ways to shove this witch into the oven.
"I will not die as his slave
I'd rather die fighting,scared but brave."
All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir
are barricaded.
But hey! There is one way!
A damn small chance to escape.
The front door can be unlocked with a key
which is attached to the black baton
that the killer carries constantly...
To beat up his slave repeatedly.

One night,when dinner time arrives...
As always the killer puts the baton on the table.
Sitting comfortably,devouring his meal voraciously.
He speaks:
"Come here,have no fear.
Pour me some wine.
You'll be just fine."

That's when she thinks:
This moment is mine!
Nervously walking toward him,
holding the fork behind her back.
And whilst pouring the wine
she uses all her strength
to stab that fork deep into his neck.
She smashes the bottle on his head.
Yet before she can grab the key,
he pulls everything off the table,
right before he hits the floor.
A broken kerosene lantern
leaking fuel causes a fire
that quickly spreads through the room.
She picks up the key from the floor,
rushes the front door.
The killer drags himself forward,
gargling on his own blood.
"Come back you fucking whore!"
She smiles and locks the door.
She's running through the woods.
Finally free,
but distracted by the screams of the burning witch.
She runs fast,straight into a tree!

9. Tragedy Ever After

She opens her eyes.
Her face is covered in blood.
She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees
in this abysmal dream.
Under a toxic blood red sky,
ghostly clouds quickly passing by.
"Please! Can someone tell me,
this place wherein I dwell,
where does it reside between heaven and hell?
Am I dead?"

But her questions merely echo away into nothingness.
There are voices calling her name
from the blackest corners of his phantasmal void.
"Gretel,join us! Join us! Join us in death."
Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways.
No mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place.

Under a toxic blood red sky,
ghostly clouds quickly passing by.
"Please! Can someone set me free!
I'm being held in a nightmare.
I'm kept in purgatory!"

Finally she stumbles on this trail
made of candy.
Like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread,
consuming them one by one,
hopefully this is the trail of delicacy lead towards
a better place ahead.
But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness.
It reeks on burning flesh,
then the trail suddenly ends...
there's a dark presence lurking in the shadows.
It just entered purgatory
because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality.
The spectral corpse of the clowns was heavily burned.
Her brother's murderer has returned...
A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold to her.
She cannot move.
She cannot defend herself.
When will this suffocating dream finally end?
The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol,
and when her bastard father shuts the door behind him,
she realizes: It was just a dream.
The real nightmare continues in reality.

There's no place like home.
There's no place like home.

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Tracklist and lyrics

1. An Ominous Recording

"Sunday, October third. 6 p.m. rain... I was ordered to execute seven prisoners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn't reach them. Instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..."

2. Lingering in an Imprint Haunting

Kill! Here i walk down this godless trench where the corpses sink forever into shallow marshy grounds. I can't remember confronting these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud, where skies weep leaden tears and blood.

It's hard to breathe within this thick cloak of sulphuric mist, conjuring slaughtering soldiers into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield no soul can be dismissed. As if the devil is in charge, giving orders from the depths of the abyss.

Goddamn! It's coming hard. Fire fight and waves of bombardments blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops! I turn and see no enemy. There's nothing behind me.

I can't believe my eyes. I can't believe what i see. A timeless, frozen scenery where nature stands still! Except for me!

So strange to see a still image of this infernal reality. Staring at shrapnel and bullets on an incomplete journey. When suicide burdens my mind, i'm startled by a horrible screaming from behind.

Luring me to a spot where a friend of my platoon walked into an ambush, he screamed: "Please kill me! Charlie's coming soon!"

My 1911 is too loud, that's why i reach for the knife. Then, again, hesitation! I cannot take his life!

Goddamned fucking gooks! He's captured by the enemy. Dragged away for days of torture, screaming these last words at me: "You son of a whore should be terrified! In this hell I'll wait for you!"

And right before i step on that mine i ask myself: "Did he just speak the truth?"

Briefly i comprehend, all this time i was damned. His grudge keeps me in hell for eternity. Every time i die he waits for me.

This is my destiny...

3. Bitte tötet mich

Another tale of tragedy. He made the choice to end his life. So it is written, passionately. This soldier's fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder by the horrors of war. One carrying so much death will soon care for life no more.

On the first day the soldier would quietly retreat to shoot himself through the head not far from his infantry.

"I can hear footsteps. Someone's coming near. Fuck! Should i stay? Disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund. Diesem soldat ist immer Für mich da. Quickly i put my Luger away. I thought this was my last day but i failed!"

"Bitte tötet mich! Bitte töte mich!"

On the second day he opened his eyes. Consumed by sadness he thought: "Today is the day i die. I will take my life with the rope, a bullet or maybe the knife"

So depressed. So empty. Wandering hopelessly, searching for death. His soul feels so old and so cold. The only desire left is his yearning for death.

He stumbled across an old farmstead and entered this wooden shack. There he found a rope and the guts to jump and hang with a broken neck. The second he tightened the slipknot, the barn door flew open. This time he was caught by a farmer who grabbed his legs to lift and hold him high. The soldier kicking and screaming: "You bastard! Let me hang and die!"

In this struggle the soldier went mad. When the rope snapped, he pulled a knife and, nine times in the stomach, the farmer was stabbed.

"Bitte töte mich!"

On the third day there was a fire fight. This bloody assault would last until midnight. Another opportunity for our soldier who craves suicide.

With open arms into the line of fire he asked for death. But hen he watched his friend, who is trying to prevent him from killing himself again, die for his own determined suicide.

Here comes the part where he sticks the Luger into his mouth. He was shot twice in the spine from behind, then blows half his face all over the ground. Not dead yet but completely fucking paralyzed, Kept alive in his hell for two long years before he finally dies.

4. The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist

Listen! Don't you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by nature's most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections from World War II...

Arise! 1941, '42

The identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. There's one soldier incapable of committing sin. Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift with a violin.

His brilliant music so beautiful and pure... Shining warmth upon every soldier. It helps them to endure. Breath-taking melodies consuming all hate, sorrow and fear. These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. And for a moment their pain disappears.

But this moment will not last when they are baffled by another blast. The enemy is near. Rain of bullets killing soldiers there and here. And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the music of the dead; music made of lead.

"I've had enough of this sickening war and it's murderous puppets! They don't understand the language of music cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life! Maybe now is the time to take mine. In the name of music; shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!"

The enemy lies on the other side of the field. He decides to walk straight into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard during an intro for his own death.

And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end, both sides simultaneously open fire. There's the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire.

These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist. Can't you hear his call of death? Listen! Don't you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound... Others hear a man moaning in tears.

The funerary dirge of a violinist...

5. Sir John

"Scalpel, Clamps. Pull him to the ground. No innocent hands! Every second counts! Cut! Through his skin thick blood flows. No anesthesia as I dig in!"

Spleen uncovered, brutally removed. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up so he survives. Eating intestines to keep ourselves alive."

"Thirteen days starving to death since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!"

Half the village died, animals fled. Plague lurking like a ticking time bomb. The stench of death.

"I won't regret, doctor! Use your craft! Now amputate my hand so I can eat!"

Forced beyond sanity they kept themselves alive. Lost all their dignity.

"Forceps. Clamps. Pull him to the ground. No innocent hands! Every second counts! Cut through his skin! Thick blood flows. No anesthesia as I dig in!"

More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on. Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied. Soon he realized his raid of death had come to an end.

No living soul left, for his hunger driven theft. Killed them all!

"But I must eat! Just a little piece of me! Come to daddy! He must eat!"

Twenty days almost starved to death in this forsaken place. Found by soldiers who brought him back. He was safe. Comatose, little did he know what horrors slowly crawled upon him once he (a)rose. "Severe war traumas" he was told.

"Mouth guard. Strap. Pull him to the ground. No innocent hands! Every second counts." He ate his own tongue. Thick blood flows. "We are losing him!" Heart fails.

So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. This blood hunger grown to be a part of him. Never satisfied, in his last moment realized, his raid of death had come to an end.

6. Spectral Infantry Battalions

Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition keeps rising from a field, once colored red from bloodshed.

Where the sounds of war can still be heard and the balance of nature is seriously disturbed.

Spectral infantry battalions marching through a freezing timeless void. Again, ghostly cavalry regiments shall ride the lands they'd once destroyed.

Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching unto an endless destination.

This is the sound of death;

(Death) a military haunting!

(Death) Battle formations,

(Death) still marching ahead!

(Death) Battle formations Death Death Death!!!

7. General Nightmare

Staring, screaming "Bring my map!" with clenched fists. "Colonel, Attaquez l'Allemagne!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign!

I have conquered! "Murdered!" I am your leader! "No! You slaughtered us all!" Déserteurs! "We'll infest your nightmares with our pain!"

General Nightmare!

He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death; screaming women, children... Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués!

Woken from delirium (by) the stench of burning flesh. Wading through an ocean of blood and tears still fresh.

"Suis-je fou? Mais je reste puissant! Je m'en fous de la populace!"

ATTACK!

Trembling, raging "Bring my map" with clenched fists. "My orders: Attack! Attack!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign!

General Nightmare!

He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death; screaming women, children... Tourmentés, brûlés, tués!

He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death; screaming women, children... Tourmentés, pour l'éternité!

8. Little Hector what Have You Done?

Hector was nine. In school making colorful drawings most of his time. One day he made this horrible portrait of a dead man and his child. The teacher was shocked! How could such a young lad draw pictures so sad?

Hector was asked to explain. He replied: "It's me and daddy in the attic; hanging when we are dead."

Cold and dead!

Later that day, the boy left school early. Hector ran away. When he came home, he found his daddy's revolver. Now it's time to play. While father slept, his son blew his brains all over the bed. Then he went upstairs to the attic. There the kid shot himself through the head.

Cold and dead!

Mother came home and saw her husband. Mother came home and saw her son. Her soul collapsed and her heart froze. After the funerals she took an overdose.

It is the house! Haunted! The house is cursed, the house is damned. Bewitched! Touched by the devil's hand. Haunted! The house is bitter and sad. Bewitched! It somehow drove little Hector mad.

Once upon a time during the war the Nazis came and breached down this door.

"Aufstehen!" The men head to stand and see.

"Hinsehen!" How their women got raped so brutally. So hard...

Cold and dead!

Father resisted and for that he was taken upstairs after his boy. With his hands tied to his back and another rope around his neck, they made him stand upon the shoulders of his own dear son. Unfortunately the child could not hold his daddy that long.

For several days he sat amongst his ravished and executed family. Eventually he knotted a rope out of his own bed-sheets and hung himself next to daddy.

9. These Fields Are Lurking (Seven Pairs of Demon Eyes)

There he lies; haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past of these seven apparitions.

"Where am I?" "Did I just die?" No one in sight. Scanning his surroundings for where they might lie.

The Prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes pierce a blood red sky.

He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can't comprehend what he has seen.

The wet earth trembles and war winds howl like Wehrmacht-wolves on hungry prowl. "These fields are more than I can see! I cannot take this!"

These fields are lurking as black hail falls like ashen blades. These fields are closing in to bury him with frozen spades.

On bitter taste of blood he gags. Dragging on with broken legs to break loose from the horrid stench of burning lives and burning flags.

With elbows through the mud he drags himself forward! Forward! "I shall escape this plot. I must! I will!"

The wind lies down and the earth stands still. Black hail fire stings no more. Dear lord above, did I escape that hellish place of gore?

He ends up where it all began. Seven pair of demon eyes. Seven fearsome demon smiles.

Trapped in a paranormal chain. Bound to suffer endless warfare, torture, fear and pain.

So ends this tale of fates aligned. A prophecy of war entwined into bloody knots that won't unwind. This ominous recording is all that's left behind:

"Sunday, October third, 6 p.m. rain..."

divider

Tracklist and lyrics

1. Electronic voice phenomena

"This is stormboot (...)
Position 5412-0524 East.
This is stormboot, please come in!
I repeat - (...) anyone read me?!"

 

JIJ ZULT VERZUIPEN IN JE EIGEN BLOED!
(YOU WILL DROWN IN YOUR OWN BLOOD!)

2. The sighting is a portent of doom

In the age of electricity and oil, my tugboat ploughs through waveless liquid soil.
Cruising at thirteen knots on pitch black sea.
There's a strange object on the radars in front of me. Still nothing I can see.
Just an open dreary sea...

Several attempts to contact that what appeared to be the size of a ship.
No response 'till I receive transmissions of hostile nature.
These voices cursing my goddamn name.
Hell, is this witchcraft or am I insane?

All of a sudden a dark silhouette ascends through godlike mist.
While it comes closer, I recognize the image of an old deserted ship.

I am aghast at the sight of a derelict vessel sailing this awkward night, appearing like a black floating cadaver.
There's not one single man aboard.
Her torn sails cloaking her like a cobwebbed widow, posing against this sad nightmarish horizon.

The temperature suddenly dropped.
My great-grandfather's clock, just ticking, now stopped.
I am smothered by a sudden shroud of fear.
For there's a ghost ship 'pon a funereal quest.
With a black bird circling hypnotic around its rocking empty crow's nest.

Fortunately this atrocious mystery sets sail away from me.
Some sailors claim other seamen beheld such sights.
Most died weird deaths during fog-clad days and nights.
The ship vanished as suddenly as it appeared.
Should I feel fear? Was it even there?

3. And the consequence macabre

He came home with trembling bone and spoke:
"Evil roams the sea!"
I caught a glimpse of something I describe as witchery.

They must think I am weird.
My wife and daughter upset by what they hear.
As we go to bed, I kiss my loves goodnight then close my eyes to forget.
Soon a lucid dream!
The room around me shifts into a bleak and dismal scene.

Once my consciousness has vanished deep within my mind, the first thing I realize is taking a severe beating from someone in the middle of the night.
Between the shocking fragments of cold fists ponding on my face, I can see a man wearing a black hat causing harm upon me.
While he's laughing and punching simultaneously,
I manage to grab his throat with both hands and push him over to the left side, where my wife sleeps at night.
Grabbing the knife on the pedestal cupboard, not thinking twice.
And I stab into his face until both eyes liquidize and facial bones collapse.

Haphazardly in anxiety I maim his face extremely and still he's laughing loudly.
His clothes look rather old; a stench like dead things and a ragged captain's coat.
This dream is so ghastly and surreal.
So many stab wounds, sixty, maybe more.
His face simply shattered while blood decorates the floor.

Then there is this sound like a snarling hound.
I leave the room to look around.
It guides me to my daughter's room.
Her door is locked.
I am terrified of what I might find behind.
So quickly I climb the stairs to the old attic and find my double-barreled shotgun.
Ammunition.
The weapon's loaded.
I need this nightmare to be done.
Done!

I break down the door forcefully.
A vicious false dog is what I see.
And still he's laughing loudly.
It's not my child for this beast seems foul and wild.
Two close ranged shots, still alive, brutally finished with the knife.
Now guess who's gargling closely behind me.
I turn around and again I am just an inch away from that face I carved up previously.
Still laughing... Suddenly...

Thank god I am awake!

Laying in my bed, covered in sweat.
The horror I have seen, was just an awful dream.

Clouded is my sight, finding bloodstains on my hands as I rub my eyes.
No!
What have I done?!
My wife besides me, still alive, but her face is simply gone.
Beauty has been maimed by my hand, disfigured.
Our kiss will never be the same.

Now where the fuck is my little girl?!
And a dead hound is not what I found, bloodstains on the wall.
There's my daughters corpse, slaughtered on the ground!

One last kiss upon my wife's trembling hand before I shoot her through the head to set her free from this misery.

Imagine the shotgun standing upside down with the barrel in my mouth.
The sighting was a portent of doom and the consequence definitely macabre.
And before my last tear hits the soil I...

4. Van der Decken's triumph

"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails!
Work harder you drunken snails!
For treasury like pepper as gold.
Let this nautical voyage begin.
We are powered by strong European winds."

The triumph of The United Dutch East-India Company.

We run a monopoly: spice trade, violence and slavery
"Full speed ahead!"
He's hollering as if he's mad.
This ship is captained by a successful psychopath.

Fearless... No conscience...
The infamous captain Van Der Decken.

Through the foulest gales, along dangerous reefs and treacherous bays.
Respect and obedience.
Under his command they felt challenged but safe.
Determination and greed is what he felt.
Possessed and focused on profit and wealth.

"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails!
Work harder you drunken snails!
For treasury like pepper as gold.
Let this nautical voyage begin.
We are powered by strong European winds."

"Bring me the rum
To celebrate the fortunes to come.
Let us sing and drink on a rich and glorious time.
For we shall succeed just like this harmonious rhyme."

5. Bloodstains on the captain's log

Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around.
Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine.
I love you, but not as much as my sea, ship and crew.
What?!
Now you hide your fears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to molest you.

Catharina!
If you try to leave, there will be grief.
A wonderful house built for my wife to dwell, still nagging like one of my annoying men.
Catharina!

He defies the trust in marriage and god.
For there are bloodstains on the captain's log.
I stand for greed, lust and the willpower to defeat.
The mask I wear is kind, with a distorted face underneath.
I believe in bliss through violence and suppression.

Take, rob and rape.
Don't let these filthy foreigners escape.
On our pillage through the Indian seas, we sail heartless under the flag of piracy.
Ravish and ruin their lives.
Execute their children right before their eyes.

My treasure chambers, teeming with the riches I adore.
I call it passion, not a sin, to kill for more and more.

Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around.
Breathe with me from the opium the opium pipe and drink a little more wine.
I love you, but not as much as my sea, ship and crew.
What?!

Now hold your tears lest it becomes your fault I should choose to violate you.
Once he sailed the course of trade and righteousness.
A stern, yet stout, master of the sea.
Now his soul drowns in condescension.
His mind corrupted and martyred by greed.
Bloodstains on the captain's log!

6. Al betekent het mijn dood

This storm...
Lightning, fears, winds and monstrous waves!
A demonic tempest!
My men, gone, raining

"I command!"
We set sail!

"I beg you, my captain!
Christ has forbidden to set sail on east on sunday!"

What!?
Your God!?
May he suffocate, may he rot!
Clamp the bible, close to me,
His book of lies I shall now cast into the sea!

"This is blasphemy!"

Your hold your tongue or rip it out and have your heart for mutiny...

"No! You cannot send us into madness! We shall not obey!"

With my knife I slowly penetrate his tender throat!

I curse and rage: "Godverdomme! Wij zullen varen, al betekent het mijn dood!"

7. Departure towards a nautical curse

The crew froze as he wiped the blood off on his coat
And threw the helmsman ruthlessly overboard.
In defiance of the storm, that kept them anchored for so long, he swore an oath to forfeit right and wring.
Irreverent he cussed loudly: "I will round the cape,
even if I have to sail until doomsday!"
Their petrified facial expressions could tell: their master was like a devil on this floating piece of hell.
There and then he gave the signal of departure.
"Make sail and weigh the hook!"

And so they left the harbor.
Hear the Easter bells tolling through the roaring sound of a rough sea, accompanied by the sight of a ship sailing towards her destiny.
What a spectacle of Blasphemy.
There was no rejoice after his mad choice.
Sails were lost, decks were flooded and lightning turned their ship into a coal-black carcass.
Anxiety replaced vainglory.

The storm died down but a sinister shroud of darkness remained, for the daylight came no more.
Floating in unending dusk, adrift on liquid ground.
Months went by and land was never found.
Food supplies putrefied and pestilence broke out.

Suicide became routine, some chose suspension, others jumped and drowned.
The dead were sown in hammocks and disposed of in the sea, buried in a watery grave, after a short ceremony.
The crew froze as he left his cabin with knife and gun, slaughtering what was left of them one by one.
There was an evil murderous glimpse in his eyes.

By the time he was done, the ship was desecrated by death and demise.
Van der Decken lashes himself to the wheel, swearing at Christ: "I shall not yield!"
All at once a new storm rose and lightning struck.
The top mast broke off, impaling him, a shard of the crest piercing his chest, in a standing position nailed to the deck.
And so a man dies, and a ghost resurrects.

8. The course of a spectral ship

Lots of tears, months became years.
Their mothers wept for many nights,
wondering if their sons died.
Just when the grief
became permissive and brief, tales of a ghost ship were
spread... the same vessel where their brood found death.

A craft made of mist, coursing in a timeless direction.
This cadaverous sighting, causing mayhem through reflection.
These dark words are whispered in the local
hangout of our port.
Sailors and captains sketching a ship's
hull with a black shape aboard.
Robust dauntless sea-dogs
speak with a frightened tone in their voice:

"Blue was the sky and the sun smiled at the crew.
Then a storm came forth, moving swiftly from the north.

Claps of thunder rumble, cold winds whining loud.
A ghostly solstice, weeping thick tears from its dreary clouds.
As if these raindrops awoke something from its sleep, ticking on a liquid grave to evoke a devilish ship from the sea.

The rise of a haunting in the form of a demon vessel.

Now this black ship veered it's bow.
Changing her course, sailing straight into our direction.
Anxious seamen screaming out loud:
Search for protection!
Right before it collides, a dark figure was seen, standing on the prow with a black hound by his side. surrounded by corpses.
A sardonic smile and a sinister glance in his eyes.

No movement, not one single tremor was felt on board.
This spectral ship sailed straight through our vessel and our soul.
The only thing we sensed was a bleak gust, a chill breeze... so cold."

9. The shining was a portent of gloom

A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle,
sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle.
The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter,
clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water.

"His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust!
His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain!
Riches to ashes! His tears lost in rain!"

A ship made of mist like quicksilver thread.
This skeleton vessel sings songs for the dead.
To take a deep breath and set his mind back in motion,
he stumbles upright and fumbles to the prow.

His eyes now closed to hear his dear ocean,
he feels the world has altered somehow.
Deafening silence, the ocean seems gone.
Hardly a whisper nor notes of wind song

"His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust!
His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain!
Riches to ashes! His tears lost in rain!"

In a final attempt to end this bitter roam,
he looks at the stars with their comforting glare.
But the lights above that once guided him home,
scattered and shattered, are no longer there.

Now dawning upon him like rays of the sun,
his state and fate cannot be undone.
The captain now trapped on this skeleton vessel,
adrift on the void in a black floating castle.

Chained to a twilight and bound to his boat,
swearing his vengeance on others afloat.
Lights at the end that have the world in their grip.
He shall have his conquest
as death came through a phantom ship!

divider

Tracklist and lyrics

1. Het spook van de Veillarthof

[Instrumental]

2. A strange presence near the woods

White is the mark of this sighting, black is it's soul
Dark is the soil where it haunts upon
Jesus Christ!
You were never capable of protecting these desecrated woods
Shadows over Lammendam
Shadows over Lammendam

It's the point of death's return for a grand castle there once burned
Something is following me!
Yet there's no one I see as I walk the old pathways near the woods

A murderous identity is staring from the trees
Now I realize that I have trodden spectral sanctities

Wandering through forests and dreary fields
I think I'm lost
Yes I'm lost
Cannot describe this horrendous fear, I think I'm cursed
Tricked and cursed
Suddenly I stumble onto a forgotten sanctuary
A tomb of a castle scorched by time, bound to the entity that is determined to take my life

Here comes the night!
Nocturnal threnodies and funerary thoughts of my death-bell clanging through my mind..

Overwhelmed by approaching dark sounds
Listen to the devilish anthems of a shrieking ghost when the moon is perfectly round

All that's left is a shallow empty moat
There were my rigid body floats through a cold void what Dutch men call 'dood'

No one in the village knew, why disappear?
Wish they knew my corpse was here!
Shadows over Lammendam
No return, no return from Lammendam!

3. Haunting echoes from the seventeenth century

Hear this legend:
A saga of despair from an old southern town called Sjilvend
The elder peasants warned us, we should fear a hidden unmarked tomb in those marshy woods not far from here

This is the saga of the white ghost haunting Lammendam
There a sick reflection keeps resurrecting only when the sun is gone

Once there stood a castle in a wood
It seemed a rather old, wealthy looking farmstead
There lived a girl with the beauty of a pearl
Especially when she wore a white dress and wandered through fields of hard-working churls

Everyone knew there were two young fellows who gave up everything for the love of their dreams
They did not care
Poor or rich..
She stole their hearts like a goddamn witch

This region once was called De Leiffartshof
One was the German son of Högenbusch, the other one came from a domain called Heeringhof
And they both weren't aware of their mistress in white who could not decide
Echoes.. from the seventeenth century!
Echoes.. from the seventeenth century!
Echoes.. from the seventeenth century!

During day he came with his horse and carriage then whistled..
Then she knew he was there..
A secret affair!
Therefore you'll be crowned as a whore

Lammendam!
Lammendam!

The sun is drowning in the landscapes of the earth
The time to seduce her second admirer
There lies a note by the old knotted oak, carrying a stone and romantic poetry telling her when where to go

One day he's riding his black horse through southern paradise
By coincidence he caught his doll cheating with another lad
Slut!

Why?

..and they hated passionately ever after

4. Phobic shadows and moonlit meadows

Hatred's occultation
causing harm upon their relation
No amour tomorrow
when love shall be consumed by sorrow, sorrow!

In olden days these kind of acts were a shameful disgrace
Maybe the price of jealousy and hate sealed her malicious fate
One night the village was awakened by agonizing screams
Her castle burned like the sceneries in Hell
She suffered like a pig
Oh god, I love this tale to tell!

Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire
Repulsive temptress in white prepare to die
And kiss thy pale, warm skin goodbye

Hör mir zu!
Dein Fleisch ist in meiner welt verboten
Du solst tanzen im Schattenreich, dem Land der Toten

In Dunkelheit..
In Finsternis und Einsamkeit..
In Finsternis.. in Dunkelheit..

Whorish desire sentenced
with the punishment of fire
Unfaithful mistress in white
where is your pride?
Accept your faith in twilight

In Dunkelheit..
In Finsternis und Einsamkeit..
In Grausamkeit und Finsternis..
Im Schattenreich..

5. Hered melting flesh

That night was weird
restless and bright
for the moon kept shining this awkward sick light

The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child
No hundreds!
Weeping as if they realise it's time to die

Raindrops keep falling and falling like tears
Like the infant's sorrow, as if it's raining from their fears
Then what happened no one could tell, but mark my words
it's a pretty sick trick from hell

Goodnight..
Sleep tight..
My mistress in white..
Sweet dreams of death and moonlight

6. The carriage wheel murder

Next morning his corpse was found twisted, cut and broken
The way those empty eyes stared!
As if they saw the doors of Hell going open

Something bewitched returned from the ashes where she once burned
Princess of the moon
Roaming timeless gloom
Murder! Murder!

Once sick of hatred, now frightened of these unsolved deaths
His cheating mistress and her lover passed away like rats
Now Ian's hourglass is leaking time like a bleeding that cannot be stopped
For a lugubrious existence is craving for his teardrops and blood

Kijk mij aan zodat de duisternis in jouw ziel kan schijnen
Jouw bestaan zal als een tijdloze vloek in de dood verdwijnen

That day he's riding through the forest as his intuition speaks: "You are being followed!"
Then the spirit attacked from the trees
It pushed his face into the spinning carriage wheels
His skull cracked open..
..and there were no more screams!

7. Corpse in a nebulous creek

One year later, still traumatized by her ghastly screams
He tastes and smells her burning flesh
in his most sickening, hypnotic dreams
These illusions seemed so damn real
What a nightmarish ordeal!

My lady's corpse was never found within the remains
Even her skeleton dissolved
There was no proper burial day
What a shame that heavenly beauty could not stay
And something devilish stayed to play

Corpse, corpse..

His name was Manfred, his father was a German count
Depression hid companion until his pounded, cold corpse shall be found
Depression!
Now he is suffering a severe form of psychosis

Corpse in a nebulous creek

I saw something white dwell through the woods like a macabre dead bride
Trembling with fear, still cannot believe
that like a false dog it kept staring at me

Corpse, corpse..
Corpse, corpse..

Seriously considering suicide
Shall I drink the poison, cut my wrists or hang myself high tonight?

He made a choice and took a ride along the farthest trees and then,
when they jumped a misty creek, he fell and broke his neck
Was he insane?
No!
She came back and pushed him, so sad..

Broke his neck
Horse shot dead
Broke his neck
Now he's dead!

Now he's dead

8. Invisible physic entity

[Instrumental]

9. Heretic poltergeist phenomena

Ghost, a lost semi-transparent appearance
Soul, a fog-like human form of mental anger, caught between life and death

A threatening presence of an invisible personality
It keeps bewitching the sceneries of earth instead of departing to a much more blissfull world

Doomed and forgotten in a mortal realm of bloom
Repeating tragedy summoned by the moon

Paranormal hysteria
Poltergeist phenomena
Listen to the laments of the sick moaning dead

They speak a simple fearsome language
Knocking, moving objects and scratching against the walls
For some reason they refuse to pass over to the light
It could be love, hate, and vengeance that keeps them wandering circles at night

Heretic poltergeist phenomena!
Heretic poltergeist phenomena!

Ghost, a lost semi-transparent existence
Soul, a misty human form of negative anger, confusing life with death

Cursed and desolated in an earthly stream of tears, it keeps arising like a wolf when a full moon appears
Paranormal hysteria
Poltergeist phenomena

10. La malediction de la Dame Blanche

Tâchez dêtre rentrés avant le clair de lune
Parce qu'alors
...
la forêt devient vivante!
They plough on the lands near a damned, baleful source of evil
Drifting foreign knaves, broken slaves of war
Trying to avoid the wrath of the french revolution
Eyes of fear and confusion
They seem terrified of the white cloaked haze that lies dormant in daylight yet haunts moonlit crops at night

The French peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche"

Some of them worked late on their fields and mysteriously disappeared
As if they just ran straight into the black marsh, to escape from the atrocities of the white ghost

Certainly convinced she came forth since that hellish fire
Like a straw she burned!
None concerned until her phantasm had returned from a bleak spectral world
Frequently she's seen in the gleam of a dismal chimerical moon floating through clouds of gloom

La malédiction de La Madame Blanche
La malédiction de La Madame Blanche

This town is haunted
This town is goddamn cursed
These trees have eyes
Staring through your soul during moon rise
Oh, you don't believe the truth?
Turn around!
Perhaps she's standing right behind you
Right now!
Right now!

The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche"
These words were transformed by the church which identified the curse as "De Lammendam"
And don't expect a happy ending when I say goodbye
You may kiss the bride before you will brutally die

divider

Tracklist and lyrics

1. Ethereal veiled existence

A few years later an author of sea-novels, entered
Raynhams dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend his night.
In the room where the poltergeist most frequently arrived.
There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady.
It was the face of something dark still wandering this place.

Is it for real?...
I must reveal if these grim hauntings are the result of thieves and local smugglers.

On this dreary night he went to sleep, guided be two friends and candlelight.
All at once they froze...!
Suddenly they confronted the cursed lady.
She came forth like freezing winds from north.
No ghastly dream... The brown countess existed for real.

The armed captain pointed his gun and looses of a shot...!
The bullet passed straight through the fearsome shade.
Became lodged in the wall. This thing was not meant to fall.

No single cry, no wounds no blood... It should have died.
This unreal form dwells outside heavenly light.

Carrying a lantern.
Gliding past the walls where her soul became enthralled.
Fear replaced... skepticism.
At last the shade turned and grimmened in a diabolical way.
Right before... she vanished.

divider

Tracklist and lyrics

1. The ghost of Raynham hall

Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace.
There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed
place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen,
wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam.

Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably
the consequence of ignoring heavenly light.
Somehow a sad spectral reality...
kept reflecting the presence of a shade called the brown lady.

The ghost of Raynham
The ghost of Raynham hall

I shall guide us through it's arcane past.
It was a time of romance and wine, before the (vis) count
Townshend, found out about his wife.
High was the price. Her infidelity would be severely punished for life,
Locked behind the walls at Raynham hall's apartments.
There's where she remained, driven insane until death came.
It was a shame,
"Unfaithful salacious whore... you will never get away!"
That's why Dorithy died.
After being held in this antiquated prison for life.
Sickness was the reason of her mysterious death..., was said.
Though many have told she'd broke her heart... then her neck!

Over the years dark tales have appeared of a shade in a brown brocade dress.
It was the ghost of the brown lady, still seeking for ethereal rest.

The ghost of Raynham
The ghost of Raynham hall

divider

Ethereal Veiled Existence (2005)

Ethereal Veiled Existence 2005 - Carach Angren

Tracklist and lyrics

1. There Was No Light

And when she finally reached heaven,
there was no light.

2. The Ghost of Raynham Hall

Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace.
There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed
place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen,
wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam.

Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably
the consequence of ignoring heavenly light. Somehow
a sad spectral reality... kept reflecting the presence of a
shade called the brown lady.

The ghost of Raynham
The ghost of Raynham hall

I shall guide us through it's arcane past.
It was a time of romance and wine, before the
(vis) count Townshend, found out about his wife.
High was the price. Her infidelity would be severely
punished for life,
Locked behind the walls at Raynham hall's
apartments. There's where she remained, driven insane
until death came. It was a shame, "Unfaithful
salacious whore... you will never get away!" That's why
Dorithy died. After being held in this antiquated prison for life.
Sickness was the reason of her mysterious death...,
was said. Though many have told she'd broke her heart...
then her neck!

Over the years dark tales have appeared of a shade in a
brown brocade dress. It was the ghost of the brown lady,
still seeking for ethereal rest.

The ghost of Raynham
The ghost of Raynham hall

3. After Death Premises

Bewitching spheres I sense when the temperatures fall.
Whilst dusk quickly devours all light inside the
Townshend's hall. Ghostly phenomena I have seen...
roaming it's huge corridors as if I dream abysmal dreams.

1835; the year that colonel Loftus saw dark things
at night. Walking towards his room... a spectral form
appeared then vaporized in gloom.

Tenebrous winds... waving curtains.
Unreal noises, footsteps and strange voices.

Neither christ nor sunlight marked this place with
holy grace during these christmas days. I fell...
dark things staring at me. This classic realm is just
another version of hell.

Her dead skin glowed with a pale luminescence. A
forgotten entity that dwells in a brown satin dress.
Chained in a void of tragedy. Bound to seek her
children in everlasting eternity.

Colonel Loftus met her twice. The second time...
she stared at him and had no eyes. Her feature looked
horrific and cruel, watching the colonel like a terrifying pagan ghoul.

4. Ethereal Veiled Existence

A few years later an author of sea-novels, entered
Raynhams dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend
his night. In the room where the poltergeist most frequently arrived.
There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady. It was the
face of something dark still wandering this place.

Is it for real?... I must reveal if these grim hauntings are
the result of thieves and local smugglers.

On this dreary night he went to sleep, guided be two
friends and candlelight. All at once they froze...! Suddenly
they confronted the cursed lady. She came forth like
freezing winds from north.
No ghastly dream... The brown countess existed for real.

The armed captain pointed his gun and looses of a shot...!
The bullet passed straight through the fearsome shade.
Became lodged in the wall. This thing was not meant to fall.

No single cry, no wounds no blood... It should have died.
This unreal form dwells outside heavenly light.

Carrying a lantern. Gliding past the walls where her soul
became enthralled. Fear replaced... skepticism. At last
the shade turned and grimmened in a diabolical way. Right
before... she vanished.

5. Yonder Realm Photography

Two photographers were on assignment for a known
magazine. They approached the accursed hall. Unaware
of the ghost that... still dwells within.

They were assigned to profile. Raynham's structure.
Focusing on adequate exposures. There hung a mystic
sphere. Emotions of unexplainable fear made them
clear they'd rather disappear.

For this old house gave them weird conjectures. As if
something dark come near.

Misty form roams through the night.
Torturous soul astrayed from light.
Portraits of dead entities.
Yonder realm photography.

Gazing with fear up the staircase. A ghostly
shape a rose before their eyes. Quick!... There is
something strange. Click!... Was the sound that the
flashlight pistol and the camera made. They developed
a picture that showed a morbid image... apparently
of the brown lady.

Raynham hall
Raynham hall

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The Chase Vault Tragedy (2004)

The Chase Vault Tragedy (2004) - Carach Angren

Tracklist and lyrics

1. In Death It Began... (Intro)

no lyrics yet, check back soon...

2. The Chase Vault Mystery

no lyrics yet, check back soon...

3. Paranormal Kinetic Activity

no lyrics yet, check back soon...

4. Sepulchral Disequilibrium

no lyrics yet, check back soon...
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