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All who die from the prey of the undead become undead themselves, and in turn, prey on their own kind. The circle continues, ever widening, like ripples from a stone thrown into water.
If you had met that kiss, the one I forever long for, and opened your arms to her, you would, in time, have become Nosferatu upon death.
Though my love was betrayed, I continue to search the skies and seas through generations of time until her arms open to me. There she lies in her bed, in horror, believing that I bring her torment. But in truth, I long only to offer a future where we share our love.
I shall return, again and again, until you give yourself to me.
All who die from the prey of the undead become undead themselves, and in turn, prey on their own kind. The circle continues, ever widening, like ripples from a stone thrown into water.
If you had met that kiss, the one I forever long for, and opened your arms to her, you would, in time, have become Nosferatu upon death.
Though my love was betrayed, I continue to search the skies and seas through generations of time until her arms open to me. There she lies in her bed, in horror, believing that I bring her torment. But in truth, I long only to offer a future where we share our love.
I shall return, again and again, until you give yourself to me.