elizabeth bathory - Tormentor

… This is a story about Elizabeth Bathory

Her blood is ourselves

Clean Hungarian blood…

Dark castle, occult carol sounds

Women are crying, but they are satisfied

Elizabeth didn’t sleep tonight

She exorcised her youth by her own eyes

Dead girls are chaperoning her

On her deadly magic-circle's lines

She pricks needles under the ladies' nails

Their frosty bodies are buried alive

Oh how I love to feel your breath

I’d love to be the lover of death

Desires come true, evil prayers are heard

By Elizabeth Bathory — the countess of my fire!

You are also sacrifice

You will give your blood

Because she must

Have a bath…

«Welcome my youth

Alike before…

More enormous than ever!

By the blood, by the blood everything are cleaned…

Oh yes I’ve got the magic… Yes I feel I fly

I fly towards the Moon!»

Countess it is your night

You are haunted by your wild desires

Possessed by bestial lust

You are the goddess of the love

She’s got insatiable mind

She needs virgins blood anymore

Her flames never die away

She is surrounded with never-fading glory