As the last of the Ravenwoods, I am the sole inhabitant of this accursed domain. This place, which once held so much light and joy and life, is now little more than a tomb, cloaked in darkest shadow. I possess not the will to venture out beyond these walls and I fear I shall yet reside here long after my mortal life ends.
         In my exile I have been visited by shadows that whisper to me, beckoning me to join them. They have promised me all I desire if only I surrender my will unto them. I dare not, lest my soul be plunged into the infernal abyss for all time, but I feel my mind slipping as I fall further into a morbid and grievous state.
         I have turned to my music to find solace and escape. The memory of my sweet Isabelle yet lingers in my mind, rekindling my spirit and granting me inspiration anew. By candle's light, I write long into the blackest midnight hours, bewitched by the somber beauty of darkness.
         Has madness gripped me? What marks the fragile threshold that separates dreams from nightmares, love from obsession, genius from madness, virtuoso from lunatic? Am I possessed? What demons lurk behind my own eyes, whispering inside my head? I hear only one voice now—that of my beloved Isabelle, my dark muse. She haunts me. Her voice calls to me, her spirit longing to be with me once more, just as I long to rejoin her in eternal, melancholy bliss.
         I have succumbed to the whispers. Only now, as the torments of solitude take their toll and I spend my hours engulfed in shadows, do I truly create music that conveys the feelings that grip my heart—the emptiness, the sorrow and the unfathomable darkness. The music opens a portal to the past, summoning ghosts into the realm of the living. When I play it, she is here with me—my sweet Isabelle.
         Night after night have I toiled, but at last my work is complete. This symphony of darkness is my masterpiece. But take heed—all who hear it shall know my pain and sorrow as their own. And that is not all. The music casts a sinister spell, piercing the gateway of this mortal threshold, guiding the restless dead to find their way back into our world. Once the gateway has been opened, I fear it may never be closed.
         I have unleashed a great evil into this world—one born of my own anguish. It lurks here alongside me in the unhallowed halls of Ravenwood, waiting to be set free. The music cannot be destroyed. Try though I might, the pages can be neither torn nor burned. I now know that I must remain here beyond death, at the threshold between realms, to warn all who would dare perform or listen to my music and thwart the sinister legacy I have created from spreading over the Earth, claiming all in its wake.

—Aleister Ravenwood