Hølløw

Through the mist, where the dead still breathe,
A distant bell cuts underneath.
The forest bends beneath the moon,
And something waits beyond the gloom.

Black branches scrape across the sky,
while fading lanterns lose their light.
The road is buried under white,
but hoofbeats echo out of sight.

I hear a whisper call my name,
then disappear beneath the rain.
No footprints lead me through the snow,
yet something follows where I go.

The bells are ringing somewhere far,
a warning written in the dark.
I turn around, but see no face —
only the fog consuming space.

HØLLØW — riding through the night,
a shadow tearing through the light.
I feel the cold beneath my skin,
the chase begins, the end begins.

Run if you can, but don't look back,
the forest closes every track.
When ancient voices start to call,
there's nowhere left to run at all.

The crimson moon hangs low above,
the trees conceal what no one loves.
A silhouette moves through the haze,
then vanishes inside the blaze.

Steel in my hand, but fear in my veins,
I hear the horses pull their chains.
One breath, one step, the silence breaks —
the rider comes for what he takes.

The mist rolls in across the ground,
while distant thunder shakes the town.
The bells go quiet one by one —
and suddenly, the hunt's begun.

HØLLØW — riding through the night,
a shadow tearing through the light.
I feel the cold beneath my skin,
the chase begins, the end begins.

Run if you can, but don't look back,
the forest closes every track.
When ancient voices start to call,
there's nowhere left to run at all.

Beneath an ancient tree I found
a nameless grave beneath the ground.
The story said he died alone,
but something here still calls it home.

Perhaps the dead don't disappear,
perhaps they only wait somewhere.
And when the midnight bells ignite,
the lost return to claim the night.

The fog is rising...

The bells are ringing...

I hear the horses...

I HEAR HIM COMING!

NO HEAD!

NO MERCY!

NO ESCAPE!

THE HUNT NEVER ENDS!

HØLLØW — riding through the night,
a shadow tearing through the light.
The fog consumes the world below,
and there is nowhere left to go.

HØLLØW — hear the rider call,
his kingdom waits beyond the wall.
When ancient voices fill the air...

YOU KNOW THE RIDER'S THERE!

The bells fall silent...

The fog remains...

And somewhere in the hollow...

He rides again.

2354/7500

Through the mist, where the dead still breathe, A distant bell cuts underneath. The forest bends beneath the moon, And something waits beyond the gloom. Black branches scrape across the sky, while fading lanterns lose their light. The road is buried under white, but hoofbeats echo out of sight. I hear a whisper call my name, then disappear beneath the rain. No footprints lead me through the snow, yet something follows where I go. The bells are ringing somewhere far, a warning written in the dark. I turn around, but see no face — only the fog consuming space. HØLLØW — riding through the night, a shadow tearing through the light. I feel the cold beneath my skin, the chase begins, the end begins. Run if you can, but don't look back, the forest closes every track. When ancient voices start to call, there's nowhere left to run at all. The crimson moon hangs low above, the trees conceal what no one loves. A silhouette moves through the haze, then vanishes inside the blaze. Steel in my hand, but fear in my veins, I hear the horses pull their chains. One breath, one step, the silence breaks — the rider comes for what he takes. The mist rolls in across the ground, while distant thunder shakes the town. The bells go quiet one by one — and suddenly, the hunt's begun. HØLLØW — riding through the night, a shadow tearing through the light. I feel the cold beneath my skin, the chase begins, the end begins. Run if you can, but don't look back, the forest closes every track. When ancient voices start to call, there's nowhere left to run at all. Beneath an ancient tree I found a nameless grave beneath the ground. The story said he died alone, but something here still calls it home. Perhaps the dead don't disappear, perhaps they only wait somewhere. And when the midnight bells ignite, the lost return to claim the night. The fog is rising... The bells are ringing... I hear the horses... I HEAR HIM COMING! NO HEAD! NO MERCY! NO ESCAPE! THE HUNT NEVER ENDS! HØLLØW — riding through the night, a shadow tearing through the light. The fog consumes the world below, and there is nowhere left to go. HØLLØW — hear the rider call, his kingdom waits beyond the wall. When ancient voices fill the air... YOU KNOW THE RIDER'S THERE! The bells fall silent... The fog remains... And somewhere in the hollow... He rides again.

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