The young bride stands alone covered in blood.
The bright crimson stains on white satin.
With eyes vacant, standing between despair and hell.
She faces her doom alone.
Before her a figure, ancient and cold
swoops down on her in a flurry of movement
Her final scream is cut off by a wicked kiss
Then her body drops to the floor, empty of blood.
Tonight when you wake,
says the dark figure with contempt.
My minion you will be,
a slave for all eternity.