Castle of Blood Page #2

for a moment at my newspaper?

Od course.

Have you ever tried writing

stories based on reality?

Reality...

always voyages beyond,

outside, or beneath

all the forms established

by society or by the mind,

to the abysses, to the

bottom of the sea, to the South Pole.

Of all melancholy topics, what,

according to the

universal understanding of mankind,

is the most melancholy?

Death is the obvious reply.

And when is this most melancholy of topics

most poetical? When it most closely

allies itself to Beauty.

The death then of a beautiful woman

is unquestionably

the most poetical topic in the world.

We've arrived.

You can still withdraw

and return with us.

Your 10 is too tempting.

- Think carefully.

- Thanks for the interview,

and I hope Lord Thomas's ghosts

will let me publish it.

We'll come back at dawn.

Good luck.

Good luck, my young friend.

You'll find torches

under the staircase.

Don't let yourself be influenced

by this atmosphere.

All this is absurd.

These suspicious noises,

these strange apparitions

must have a rational explanation!

To doubt, even if only for a second,

means to be afraid.

It's an optical illusion.

It's very simple.

It's just an optical illusion.

Did my brother send you?

If your brother is

Lord Thomas Blackwood, then yes.

Your brother told me

that the castle was unoccupied.

Yes, I know what he says.

- To him, I'm dead.

He refuses to see me

ever since I left

his world

to seek happiness here.

Haven't you been able to persuade him

to reconcile with you?

No, I've stayed alone.

Maybe it's better

that I go away.

Are you afraid of me?

No, but if had known,

I wouldn't have accepted this wager.

Of course...

The famous wager that my brother

offers each year

in order to give me company

for one night

and to nourish the legend

that surrounds this castle.

Are these stories true?

They are fantastic stories.

They're coincidences,

chance occurrences.

Don't you want to win the wager?

Has anyone won it

before me?

The past matters little.

Now, there is just you, me,

and 100.

To tell the truth,

I bet only 10.

I'm not as rich

as you think.

You won't become rich,

but you can help me

put one over on m'lord.

Come.

I've prepared your room

on this floor.

You knew I was coming?

Of course.

You, or someone else...

Every year,

someone comes on this night.

On this night...

the night of the dead.

- Are you afraid?

- Who blew them out?

No one.

Everything goes out and lights up again

sometimes, surely you know that.

You're trembling.

It's cold here.

Must it be up to me,

a woman, to put you at ease?

- I thought you were braver than that...

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