The Author Of Evil.

An old mansion sits at the top of the hill
With its steep pitched gables, it's presence leaves a chill
Guarded by gargoyles, once inside there's no way out
The hallways are filled with the stench of blood
A resounding sense of pure evil, devoid of all love

The night of the undead becomes ever near
A night like no other, all of your senses to be filled with fear
Not one of you will be left untouched as daylight departs
The vault contains a secret thats century's old
A sarcophagus lined in red velvet and gilded in gold

The Author of Evil, will be awoken from his sleep
Pandemonium and chaos across the world will be reaped
Good will be swallowed, banished driven from this earth
Make preparations because your soul you will need to sell
The whole of mankind will be under his spell