The castle had stood empty for centuries. Or so everyone thought. Jabber was the first to push open its massive doors. "Imagine if there's a vampire in here." "There isn't," Cthoni replied. "There definitely is," Noerde said. The three wandered inside anyway. Dust covered every surface. Torn curtains hung from the ceiling. Ancient paintings watched them from the walls. For a while, they explored normally. Then Jabber found a decorative spear. Then a suit of armor. Then a chandelier rope. Things went downhill fast. A crash echoed through the castle. Then another. And another. Deep beneath the castle, hidden below layers of stone, a coffin rested in darkness. Silence. CRASH. A crack formed across the lid. Above ground, Jabber had somehow knocked over an entire bookshelf. "Maybe we should leave." "Nah." BANG. Something exploded. The crack widened. A long, tired sigh echoed from inside the coffin. Back upstairs, the trio entered a grand hall. The moment they stepped inside, every candle burst to life. They froze. The air suddenly felt colder. A low rumble echoed through the floor. Stone scraped against stone somewhere below. Then footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Approaching. One by one, the candles dimmed. A shadow appeared at the far end of the hall. Tall. Pale. Ancient. Crimson eyes glowed in the darkness. The vampire's gaze drifted across the room. The broken armor. The shattered vase. The snapped spear. The chandelier hanging by a single chain. Silence. The three friends didn't move. Neither did the vampire. Finally, Zanka closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. After sleeping for centuries, he'd expected hunters. Maybe priests. Instead he woke up to three idiots treating his castle like a playground.