[Intro] Chicago nights bleed under the Loop’s concrete veins, St. Peter’s in the Loop calls the flock with stained-glass chains. Father Lucian Voss in the pulpit, halo polished bright, But Reaper’s heard the boys’ broken whispers—tonight the false light dies. [Hook] Collar of deceit in the pulpit so bright, Preachin’ salvation while stealin’ the light. Accusations from boys, shadows in the night, Lower Wacker tunnels call for his sick delight. Hookers in heels, hustlers broken and young, Plain-clothes predator hummin’ the devil’s song. Reaper investigates, rage buildin’ strong, But killin’ a priest feels heavier than wrong. Evil’s evil, no halo can disguise, This job for free under Chicago skies. God’s wrath in the cloak, red eyes mesmerize, False shepherd—your end is no surprise! [Verse 1] Dug through the alleys where the victims still hide, Multiple boys shattered, trust turned suicide. Followed Voss from the altar to the underground ride, Plain clothes switch quick where the river mist glides. Lower Wacker concrete, pillars cold and tall, He cruises the shadows makin’ his foul call. Young hustlers shiver, sellin’ skin for a fall, Hookers lean close under the sodium pall. Reaper watches silent, cloak merged with the black, Demons in his skull temptin’ full attack. But he’s good inside, bad out for the pact, This priest’s a demon—can’t let the innocents crack. Proven sick fuck with the evidence stacked, No mercy for collars when the system’s been hacked [Instrumental break] [Verse 2] Sunday mass at St. Peter’s, pews packed shoulder tight, Reaper blends civilian, fists clenched out of sight. Father Voss on the altar, voice silk-smooth and light, Sermon on purity, forgivin’ every slight. Lies drip like incense, mask of holiness gleam, Reaper’s Christian blood boils hot in the dream. Flashes of the boys he abused in the scheme, Barely holds the rage, plots the night supreme. Enraged by the false, the holy charade, But the cross on his back says mercy’s the blade. This one hits different, the cloth makes it weigh, Yet the proof don’t lie—must send him to the grave. Holds back in the pew while the sermon rolls on, Plans the Lower Wacker strike before dawn. [Bridge] Internal war rages—good clashing the dark, Demons whisper power but he holds the spark. No bounty, no fee, pure justice ignite, Save the next broken soul from the predator’s bite. Night drops on the Loop, shadows swallow the street, Reaper suits up—cloak, mask, red eyes ready to meet. [Verse 3] Midnight Lower Wacker, concrete underworld alive, Pillars drip river mist, Upper Wacker rumbles high. Reaper glides like smoke through the I-beam divide, Steel-toe Timbs kiss wet ground, no echo, no stride. Tracks Voss in the Triangle under Wabash curve, Plain clothes on the prowl where the desperate swerve. Young hustler cornered, deal turnin’ perverse, Reaper slips past tarps and carts in silent observe. Tactics locked: wait for the isolation deep, No cameras, no eyes, just the justice he’ll reap. Demons summoned low, cold fear starts to creep, Priest feels the chill but can’t outrun the sweep. Cloak billows silent past flickering orange glow, Red eyes lock target—tonight the false shepherd goes [Instrumental break] [Verse 4] Priest pins the boy ‘gainst a pillar slick and grim, Reaper explodes from dark like judgment’s final hymn. “Run, kid—this ain’t yours—flee from the sin!” Hustler scatters fast, leavin’ Voss trapped within. Gloved hand grips collar, slams skull to the ground, Knee on chest crushin’, red eyes burnin’ profound. “You molested the flock, now feel wrath unbound, Demons I command—your hell spins around.” Whispers every sin, priest’s eyes bulge in white fright, Visions of boys cryin’ flood the sodium light. Blade from the glove flashes cold in the night, Slices throat slow—blood arcs hot and bright. Gurglin’ last breaths, beggin’ a God that won’t hear, Reaper twists the neck clean with a crack sharp and clear. Body slumps limp on the concrete, evil finally seared, Chicago one less demon—Reaper’s purpose revered. [Hook] Collar of deceit in the pulpit so bright, Preachin’ salvation while stealin’ the light. Accusations from boys, shadows in the night, Lower Wacker tunnels call for his sick delight. Hookers in heels, hustlers broken and young, Plain-clothes predator hummin’ the devil’s song. Reaper investigates, rage buildin’ strong, But killin’ a priest feels heavier than wrong. Evil’s evil, no halo can disguise, This job for free under Chicago skies. God’s wrath in the cloak, red eyes mesmerize, False shepherd—your end is no surprise! [Outro] Body cools in the tunnels where the river mist curls, Reaper fades to the shadows, cloak swallowin’ the world. Soul weighs a little more, but the city sleeps sound, One less predator stalkin’ sacred ground. Wrath for the innocent, delivered in the black, The Reaper walks on—Chicago’s guardian intact.
