a man in a cape and tuxedo standing in front of a castle

A tall, dark-haired, moustachioed, short-haired, short-haired, dark-haired male vampire in a fine tailcoat, wearing a white pointed-end bow tie and a huge, shiny, bell-collared, shiny, red satin-lined, shiny, bell-shaped, jet-black cloak, on the roof of an English castle at midnight, surrounded by a blanket of pitch black darkness and fog, with numerous bats flying around. A dandy and handsome young male vampire in his late 40s, in his late 40s, who is holding a beautiful young woman in a long dress in his arms, says into her ear: ‘Guided by the scent of your sweet blood, I will soon have your blood. My fate is that I must always drink the blood of beautiful women like you as my food for life’, he whispers. As he strides across the rooftops of the castle, the brightness of the shiny red satin lining shines more clearly against the night sky of the English castle as he lets the huge black cloak he wears hang in the air. His fearless expression cements his image.