• Hells brigade, a group of shadowy specters,
    They stand unopposed and will not waver,
    Fearsome brutes the brawlers,
    Growing hungry are the prowlers,

    A abyss of fear consumes their victims,
    Smiling with a grin are the reapers so grim,
    Tearing apart their prey limb by limb,
    Concealed in the dark and hiding in the dim,

    The blood they drank a sweet ambrosia,
    It must have been tainted for it made them berserk with hysteria,
    Now they sit unmoved by no mass of inertia,
    Now they wait drooling with saliva,

    The purer the blood the sweeter the taste,
    They look for more victims in a quickened haste,
    The blood of the virgin being the best for it is chaste,
    When they capture one it will not go to waste,

    Pronounced dead, wanting a soul to give them a vive,
    Madness awakes they will revive,