A castle stretches up towards the sky.
A flurry of bats cloaks the clouds.
Count Byron stands before the dark window,
a clawed hand touching the cool glass.
Flashing in his mind, all the wives he left behind.
Immortality both a blessing and a curse
mortals wouldn't understand.

This lonely, haunted castle is not
a home to me any longer,
Count Byron thinks as his hand slides down,
and the taste for blood fills his mouth.
I have to find a way out of here.
I have to find the one that I hold dear.
And this time never let her go,
though I hate this curse, and I love her so.

The vampires are dying out,
as the humans hunt them down.
If he can change another into a vampire,
Count Byron may be able to keep them alive.
If he does not, he may die,
and there will be no vampires left to mourn his passing.
Just ashes to ashes.
And dust to dust.

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