Lives in isolation, far from the noise of the crowd.

  It’s been ages since he last stepped outside,

  His true nature he keeps well hidden beneath his collar.

  They say he is a demon who devours men,

  That he thirsts for blood and flesh.

  In the darkness, he prowls and waits,

  To lure his prey with cunning and deceit.

  There are days when cries can be heard,

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  Screams, howls, and wails of terror.

  But no one knows where they come from,

  Nor why the Haunted Count utters them.

  There are days when lights are seen,

  Flames and flashes illuminating the tower.

  But no one knows what occurs up there,

  Nor why the Haunted Count ignites them.

  There are days when laughter echoes,

  Songs resounding in the air.

  But no one knows who sings them,

  Nor why the Haunted Count hears them.

  The Haunted Count, in his tower so high,

  Lives in isolation, far from the noise of the crowd.

  It’s been ages since he last stepped outside,

  His true nature he keeps well hidden beneath his collar.

  They say the Haunted Count is a demon,

  A prisoner of his own instincts.

  But no one truly knows.