Pride is for the living

The fire grew healthy in a matter of seconds, its soft crackle being the only sound heard in the vampire's lair until a shrieking sound erupted from the wooden casket. It was an ear piercing shrill sound Uriel heard many times before, but he could never had enough of it. It was the sound of a cryptid suffering. In spites of his ethical dilemma, cryptids caused him so much suffering through his entire life he felt some sense of justice into returning the favor.

The chamber was soon filled with a dense smoke and a nasty figure emerged from the casket, only now it was ten times more gross. Instead of its pale gray skin, the nosferatu's skin had been burn to a black crisp which in turn made its fangs look more white. Everything about it looked uglier and more fierce than it did before, but Uriel knew better than to look at it directly.