VAULTWRAITH
Death Is Proof Of Satan's Power

Deep within the tenebrous bowels of a dark and decrepit castle was it that the black ritual was undertaken. Assembled there were four of the worst sinners this world has ever known, utterly profane and perverse: The Warlock, He of the Blasphemies… Alucarda Bellows, She of the Devil… Esteban Walpurgis, He of the Evil Rites… and Baron Blood, He of the Flesh & Blood. A blood-red full-moon hanging in the benighted sky, they began the unspeakable ceremony. Mercyful Fate and Bathory albums were offered unto a flaming pyre, as were the celluloid artifacts of Jess Franco and Paul Naschy. Once some esoteric incantations in Latin and Sumerian were uttered alongside the spilling of hot sacrificial blood did that loathsome quartet play the notes known but to the most impious and obscene. And it was then, at the foreboding stroke of midnight, that the shuddersome fiendish spectre did arise from out of the stygian void: the VAULTWRAITH!