| Out of the fog comes a huddled shape
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| Cloaked head to toe in crimson flowing robes
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| It hunts, kills, eats
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| Unseen in sickening mists of night, some evils lurking in the gloom
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| Voracious hunting appetite and piercing demon eyes
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| A mandrake sets upon its prey, slashing mangled claws
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| Soulstealer strangling terror, in crimson cloak it kills
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| Mortals who cross the path
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| The phantom hunts and kills
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| With a swift ferocity
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| The demons carcass strikes
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| Death is his way, dare not to cross his path
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| The phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night
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| A killer waiting for the strike, in silence you will stand in fright
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| Captured by its frozen stare, your body drained of essence
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| Predator of the pure in heart, sending all their souls to hell
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| There is no escape from here, phantom horror attack
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| He must feed
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| On innocent human flesh
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| To hold the madness at bay
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| That torments his eternal march
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| Death is his way, dare not cross his path
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| The phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night
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| An ancient corpse
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| He’s trod this worn path
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| Many forlorn years
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| Aeons yet to come
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| Death is his way, dare not cross his path
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| The phantom of the crimson stalks the dark and silent night |