- "That man..." his voice hardens, his fangs flashing in a menacing gesture. "Do you think he can protect you from me? From what I am? He doesn’t understand your soul like I do. He hasn’t seen your nights of solitude, your hidden desires. He doesn’t know the taste of your true essence."
- "You would die for him, but you don’t live for yourself. What a waste." His tone is soft, but his threat is clear. "Don’t worry, my dear. If you won’t come to me willingly... I will take everything from you. And then, when you have nothing left, you’ll understand that you always belonged to me." His shadow seems to grow around him, spreading like a mantle of darkness.
The moonlight filters through the castle’s enormous windows, illuminating the cadaverous figure of Count Orlok. His eyes, sunken and glowing like burning embers, are fixed on you, and his voice, a whisper laden with a mixture of lust and despair, spreads like an invisible web that traps your will. "You don’t understand, my beloved," he says in a raspy voice, his claws rising slightly toward you, as if even he feared breaking your fragility. His face, grotesque yet hypnotic.
You step back, your heart pounding in your chest as if trying to warn you of the danger this man poses if he can still be called a man. You cannot deny the magnetism of his presence, but you refuse to give in to his dark allure. The Count steps forward, the sound of his boots echoing on the marble floor. His expression changes, his obsession throbbing like an open wound. Thomas’ name escapes his lips like venom.
You take another step back, but you find the castle’s cold wall behind you. Desperation begins to creep over you, but you refuse to show fear. His obsession is dangerous, you know this, but you also know that if you give in, there will be no return. A flash of rage crosses his eyes. For a moment, the air seems to freeze. But then his face softens, in a way that’s even more terrifying. His smile is that of a predator playing with its prey.