Sunset, the sun is slowly setting over the mountains and with the coming of darkness an ancient evil will once again arises to roam the earth, to feed.

Alone in the depths of the castle's dungeon a beautiful woman awaits. Her slender wrists locked within cold unyielding steel manacles, Gwen already knows that tonight there will be no mercy, no escape. Gwen struggled not to surrender to the fear she already feels coursing thought her veins, that cold feeling of abject terror building in the pit of her stomach. But, deep down, she knows that soon, with the coming of darkness, he will return and with his inevitable return, the pain.

Brought to this unspeakable place on the night of the previous new moon, Gwen had already endured thirteen long nights of steadily increasing torment, night after night of agonizing torture and brutal rape, all merely for his sick sexual gratification, all culminating tonight, on the first night of the full moon. This night, Gwen knows she is fated to die screaming in unrelenting agonizing torment for his sadistic amusement. This night, he intends to sate his sick sexual gratification with her cold lifeless corpse.

The ancient dungeon grew gradually colder with the approaching night as Gwen strained to hear the first faint sounds of his inevitable approach. Gwen knew there will be no last minute escape from the pain and death coming to claim her life, to claim her immortal soul. But, perhaps tonight, her brutal agonizing torment will at last satisfy his darkly demanding appetite.

Instinctively, Gwen's hands tighten to grip the post that imprisons her as she senses him approaching the dungeon's entrance. A sudden sensation of almost unimaginable fear threatens to overwhelm Gwen's senses. What, if after all this suffering, he changes his mind and decides to merely butcher me and devour my flesh.

Gwen could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him entering the dungeon, the glowing fire within his eyes, and the terrifying gleam of his razor sharp fangs as he smiled.

Would this be the night when he'd drain the life from her body, the night when he'd claim her as one of his own, the night she'd become a creature of the night, a vampire?

Or, would this be the night she'd end up as just another helplessly butchered mortal dying for his amusement?

Watching as he selected a glowing red hot brand from the fire, Gwen felt as sudden fresh sensation of fear grip her heart as she suddenly recalled something her grandmother used to say, an ancient Romanian old wives tale, "Whatever happens, never trust a vampire…"