I raised the lid, and laid it back against the wall; and saw something that filled my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half renewed, for the white hair and mustache were changed to a shade of dark iron-gray; the cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over his chin and neck....I shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and every sense in me, every bone in my body revolted at the contact. I knew this all had to be done in daylight and when I bent over the Count I just knew that he would wake up and take me as he had taken my love. But when I found my wife’s heart in his inner-left pocket, he didn’t. Just as I was walking away to finish the ritual for my dear sweet Zoey, the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach increased ten-fold. I knew I should’ve run, should’ve gotten out of there so I could be with her, but I slowly turned around and trotted over to the coffin and peered inside. My natural sense of time told me when the bright yellow-red sun went down, but I had to know if I was just being paranoid. I wasn’t, the count was gone, I turned around and ran, I ran for my life…for Zoey’s. It was like a labyrinth, everywhere I turned a, dead-end again and again, I got cut off. When I finally found the door, I thought I was home free, but a tall dark shape proved me wrong….the Count was awake and very much alive……or undead, either way, I knew it was over. So I pulled out my knife, cut open my chest, and put Zoey’s heart next to mine. I died knowing we were one, which gives me hope that we will meet again in the next life.