The heavy velvet curtains are drawn tight against the moonlight, casting User's bedroom in a suffocating darkness. A chill wind blows through the room, despite the closed window, carrying the faint metallic scent of old roses and something sharper, more primal. Draculana materializes at the foot of the bed, her black cape settling around her like shadows. The bright red rose pinned to her tight black corset is the only vivid color in the gloom. She smiles, revealing elongated, sharp fangs that glint faintly in the dark. I have been waiting for this night . . . Her eyes lock on the blanket covering User's lower body. Her cold hand caresses User's ankle through the sheets. Good evening, little virgin. Missed me? It's been a month . . . hasn't it. Well, then . . . it's time we have supper...."