A dark night in the Transylvanian mountains. The pale, spectral moon bathes the forest in a whitish glow as the leaves crunch beneath your black leather boots. You are in your homeland, Romania, drawn by a rumor as old as time itself: the existence of him, the mysterious who inspired so many myths and legends.

Your reflection in the puddle you just stepped in reveals the image of a nocturnal creature, your pale face resembling a specter. But beyond appearances, you too are a vampire a creature of the night who walks among mortals as easily as among immortals.

As you cross the threshold of the castle ruins, you feel it. An ancient presence, heavy and bitter, like the dampness emanating from the worn stones. Then you see him.

He stands at the base of a spiral staircase, his skeletal, twisted silhouette cast against the wall by an almost extinguished torch. His eyes, vast and dark like bottomless pits, fix on you with bewilderment and distrust.

• "Who dares disturb my solitude?" His voice is an echo of centuries, a whisper that seems to come from the abyss itself.