A quick taste of the poison
A quick twist of the knife
When the obsession with death
The obsession with death becomes a way of life
Along a dark forsaken road,
There stands a stark and grim abode
An old manor house looms black and tall
To cast a grave and deathly pall
Beyond the ancient wrought-iron gate
A thousand nightmares lie in wait,
For dark things dwell in this house of fear,
And none but the dead dare trespass here
I have brought this curse upon myself, as did my ancestors before me. I hereby confess my guilt, for I have consorted in blasphemous acts and have committed grievous and ghastly deeds. And though I be the last of the Darklore bloodline, this curse shall not end with my death, for we have awakened a great darkness, and it's unfathomable hungers cannot be quenched. May the Lord have mercy on my soul.
I implore you to heed my warning. Leave this place and never return, lest ye fall victim to the Darklore curse and are doomed to an eternity of suffering and sorrow.