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Online AlexCalvo

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Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« on: March 12, 2020, 08:32:13 AM »
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CASTLEVANIA: THE LIVE ACTION SERIES.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13520265/1/Castlevania-The-Live-Action-Series

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23175058/chapters/55470979

Here is a project I started working on over a decade ago.  This is a screenplay I started in college.  The story reorganizes all the games set in the 1800s into a single, lore rich, narrative, that takes special care to tell a dynamic engaging story, while still trying to fit squarely within the Castlevania continuity.  It takes liberties with the games its adapting, but as a whole stays very true to the established timeline, characters, and world lore.  I use an unexpected, but perfectly appropriate character to serve as the audience surrogate.

This is episode 1, there will be more posted weekly.

"The Belmonts have vanished. Wallachia is mysteriously overflowing with a master-less horde of Dracula's minions. Experts from all over come together in an attempt to forestall Dracula's seemingly imminent return. Others still work secretly in the shadows to ends both against, and in service to the Dark Lord's inevitable resurrection."


EPISODE I: BEGINNING

Aldora, Wallachia 1824

EXT. Forest, Dark rainy night

The dark foreboding forest is riddled with old gnarled trees, branches reaching down, roots reaching up. It rains heavily, the full moon struggles behind the clouds, but most light comes in quick flashes of lightning.

A woman runs alone through the mud, miraculously navigating her way in the darkness, she's running for her life and more.

She's not really alone, she holds a small infant. The baby is quiet, undisturbed by the frantic situation. The mother is hysterical, but holding together for the sake of the baby. Eerie piano-like woman's laughter comes from all directions, the source visible in the flashes, constantly shifting impossible distances. A pale deathly white woman in a red dress twirling and dancing in the rain. She's beautiful and terrifying.

The woman running with the baby suddenly breaks through the trees into a small town.

EXT. Aldora, Night

A large town for the area, stone buildings cobbled on top of each other up to three levels. Sprawling makeshift wooden staircases and ladders are slapped up and down everywhere. Cobblestone streets grid throughout, with wide avenues and small alleys between some of the buildings. It's mostly visible in flashes of lightning, there is still dim street lamps lit, though most have been compromised by the wind and rain.

The woman continues to run, quickly darting down an alleyway to avoid detection. As she runs she looks back, watching the alley opening, dreading the thought of her pursuer's silhouette appearing. Suddenly she bumps hard into someone standing in her way, but he does not budge and quickly grabs her.

It is a tall man, in a large dark cloak. We can't see him well. He's little more than a silhouette. He's holding her firmly by the arm. She looks up at him, and tries to pull away, but can't. Without a word, he grabs for the baby with his other hand.

EXT. Aldora, NIGHT

In one of the town streets, a man in a long coat is walking frantically, searching for someone, gazing down every alley as he does. We can't get a great look at him either. Suddenly there is a loud shrill scream.

Woman: Nooo!

The man starts running, sprinting in the direction of the scream.

EXT. Aldora alleyway, Night

The woman is struggling against the hooded man's grip. He now holds the baby in his right arm. From behind we see the vampiress from the forest sneaking up on the woman. After another few moments of struggle the man pushes her arm back and let's go. She begins to fall back, and the baby slips out of her arms, now held firmly in his. She reaches out, to brace for impact, but to her surprise, she is quickly caught, in the vampire's surprisingly iron gripped hands.

EXT. Aldora avenue, Night

The man in the long coat is quickly scanning all the nearby alleys, trying to find the source of the scream, when he hears another, this one just a guttural, wordless shriek. But he hears where it directly came from.

EXT. Aldora alley, Night

The coated man bolts into the alley, just in time to see the woman dropped to the ground dead.

Man in coat: No!

The hooded man turns around, the baby in hand, looks directly at him for just a moment, then vanishes. The man rushes at the female vampire, tackling her to the ground quickly. He pins her down with one knee and very quickly pulls out a small test tube-like vial. The woman struggles up, her strength pushing him back dramatically.

Quickly he pulls his arm far back over his head and comes down with lightning speed, smashing his armored elbow down into her forehead, slamming her head down to the street. He pops the cork of the vial, puts his thumb over the top, and drips it onto the woman. She screams in agony as the holy water burns her skin.

Man: (screaming) Where did he go?!

She only laughs. He becomes enraged, smashing her head with his elbow another four or five times, striking her forehead, her mouth, her eyes, nose, making a bloody mess.

Man: (screaming) Where did he take the baby?! Who is he?!

Vampiress: (gargled through blood and broken teeth, but still giggling) To make into one of us.

She says nothing more, just laughs, and coughs up blood and teeth. He's now fuming, stares down at her for a moment, then turns the holy water vial over, pouring a large stream of it directly onto her face.

Almost instantly he's rocketed into the wall, but it doesn't matter now. The vampire woman is whaling and writhing on her feet, her hands clutch her face, which is erupting in blue flame. She quickly pulls them back down, they have smaller burning blue flames of their own. Her beautiful face is destroyed. The skin has been burned off in several places with deep burns down through her facial muscles, some bone exposed.

The man is up again but obviously hurt. He pulls a knife out and stabs hard into the flailing vampire's ribs, nicking her heart. But before he can strike a fatal blow he is bashed into the wall again. The vampire leaps onto the up onto the far wall, crawling up rapidly like a spider. She is quickly over the roof and gone.

The man struggles to his feet, holding his ribs, in obvious pain. He coughs a few times.

Man: (quietly and out of breath) Damn it...

He turns to the wall, lifting his arm up to his head to support him. He looks down, to the body of the woman who'd been running through the forest with the baby. He leans against the wall, after a few seconds he punches it hard.

Man: Damn it!

FADE TO BLACK

EXT. Castlevania, Night

We see the ancient, giant, gothic castle on a small cliff surrounded by wilderness, large mountain peaks visible not far off. The black tower of the throne room looms against the beaming full Moon situated just behind it. (This is not setting the live-action, it is a backdrop for Albus's v.o.)

Albus: (voice-over) Returning to lifetime and again since the ancient middle ages, the evil lord Dracula has constantly attempted to wipe humanity from the Earth.

An old, tattered and browned map comes up, it is Wallachia, showing a dark blotch, like ink spilling on a dot marked "Castlevania", and spreading over the entire map. Very visceral, thick ink spilling over everything.

Zoom in to the map. The ink morphs into a silhouetted, shadow-like animation on the same browned paper backdrop, slightly transparent, skeletons, ogres, demons and what have you are marching through town streets, the town is in flames. People are running, trying to escape but being cut down.

Albus: (voice-over) His armies have several times pillaged the countryside of Wallachia, and at least once much further out into Europe.

(continuing animation) A Belmont steps into the scene. He is tall, his long hair is held back by a bandanna, he wears a thick chest piece, a hide tunic with an iron crest, and thick fur boots. He is lined with daggers and a few axes. He pulls his whip and strikes, bones and black "blood" splash up in its wake.

Albus: (voice-over) However, every time Dracula returned from the dead, and his armies rose, he was quietly destroyed by the sons of house Belmont, wielding the ancient whip.

We then see a moving painting animation, Simon Belmont from behind, in the air, slowly moving to the left, his whip extending in front of him, moving right. Opposite of him, facing the camera is an equally painted Dracula, slowly moving to the right.

Albus: (voice-over) Through their great efforts and sacrifice humanity avoided the darkness, securing prosperity.

This is live-action, we see a large urban village, with a big stone statue of a very similar looking Belmont, holding the whip in his left hand. Time-lapse shot of people walking past it. Continuation of v.o. background.

Albus: (voice-over) But in the early 19th century something happened, and the Belmont clan disappeared, slipped into myth.

We see a hazy image of a man in blue, kneeling before some kind of altar in a dark stone room.

Albus: (voice-over) No one knows what truly happened to them.

We see Bishops walking and discussing in a cathedral, politicians, and royals arguing in secret backrooms.

Albus: (voice-over) Those in positions of power eventually made a conscious effort to discover a new way of countering the dark lord.

We see a man in his late 30's-early 40's with two small children, a brown-haired boy, and a long black-haired girl. The three of them are together manipulating energy, or fire, or lifting objects telepathically... something like this.

Albus: (voice-over) Our organization, Ecclesia, was born then as one of those countermeasures.

We see a montage of scientists experimenting in a lab, soldiers practicing combat, engineers developing devices, magic users of various types, anything else that might work. They are in various levels of work and funding, as well as levels of frustration, showing some close down.

Albus: (voice-over) Many organizations were established with the same goal, working to achieve it in as many different ways as imaginable. They conducted their studies and research diligently, but each dissolved or was cannibalized as they failed to produce satisfactory results.

We see an old man in a robe, a book hovering in front of him, strange symbols hovering around above them.

Albus: (voice-over) But that was when Barlow, the leader of Ecclesia, had a breakthrough that truly gave us an edge, and the possibility of standing against Dracula...

CUT TO BLACK

Castlevania

EXT. Sadam woods, border of Wallachia, Mid-day

1846, 22 years later

A skinny mule pulls a rickety wooden cart down an old dirt road in a medium-thick forest. A tan man in a round hat sits on the front behind the mule, his legs hanging down between the harness beams, He holds the reigns. In the actual bed of the cart, a very young man sits on top of a wooden chest, with another its equal opposite of it, and a small but full cloth bag sitting between his legs. It is quite cramped. He is nose deep in a medical textbook.

After a while, he closes the book and opens the trunk adjacent to him. He places the book neatly on top of another, looks at the two letters sitting on top of the stack in the center. He's read them multiple times.

We see the letters, the first welcoming him as a member of the Agora Organization at Cordova University. He seems sad but pleased. He puts it under the 2nd letter, which informs him that the Agora organization has been dissolved, but that some of its top Scientists had been absorbed into their own branch of the Ecclesia organization, and that he is now expected at their headquarters.

He puts both down and closes the trunk. He is obviously tired.

EXT, Jova, afternoon

The cart pulls into the small town of Jova. It's a nice village-like quiet settlement, with stacked blocky buildings, many small houses, and a central square. The cart pulls through until it comes up to a covered bench, where a girl in her late teens-early 20s sits waiting. She has short dark brown hair and light blue eyes. She has one large trunk and a large cloth bag. She's reading a book. The cart stops, and the mule groans loudly, startling both the boy in the cart and the girl on the bench. The driver pats the mule and says something in Romanian. He turns to the boy.

Cart Driver: This is it.

Abraham: Alright.

He stands up, seemingly waiting for the driver to take his luggage, or at least assist. It becomes clear after an awkward moment that neither will be offered. Abraham slings his small bag over his shoulder and then tries to lift one of his trunks with one arm on each end. He pulls hard but it just slides a little on the cart. He then places both arms on one side and begins to drag it across the cart bed.

The girl closes her book and stands.

Carrie: Do you need some help?

The boy stops and looks at her and pauses for just a moment too long. He is obviously somewhat surprised.

Abraham: Um, yes... Yes, that would be wonderful.

She smiles and walks to the back of the cart as Abraham pulls the trunk, grabbing the other end as it slides off.

Abraham: Let's place it over beside the bench, and the other atop it.

Carrie: Sounds good.

The pleasant smile never leaves her face. She has a very warm and caring presence, a sort of motherliness. They place the trunk down as indicated, and the 2nd on top of it, as soon as they finish the driver leaves without a word, back the way he'd come.

Abraham, noticeably taxed by the task, sits on the bench rather lazily and exhales. He seems a bit awkward.

Carrie: So, you've come to join Ecclesia as well I take it?

She sits next to Abraham. He seems slightly surprised.

Abraham: Why yes. I was supposed to go to the Agora organization of Cordova University, but they closed, now they want me at Ecclesia it seems.

Carrie: Hmmm. I was an Ecclesia recruit from the beginning. What did the Agora organization do?

Abraham: Well, I don't really know too much. It was a scientific research organization working on top-secret projects in Wallachia. You see I am something of a prodigy physician. I was to apprentice in their medical program.

Carrie: Yes well many things have been changing around here lately. Ecclesia is sort of a jack of all trades now, but it started in sorcery research.

Abraham: Sorcery...?

Abraham shifts and sits up straight, he seems to feel sick and looks it. He starts to panic.

Abraham: Oh no, no. Have I fallen for a ruse? A scam? I've given no money, and mind me, woman, I won't.

His panic turns to something like anger, but Carrie laughs, her smile is beautiful. Abraham, though still quite doubting of sorcery, shows obvious signs of regret at his outburst.

Carrie: My young sir I assure you that you haven't been rused. I can tell that you aren't from around here, but neither is English your first language. I assume you don't speak any Vlach tongues or Romanian?

Abraham: No... No, I learned English in primary school, but I do speak fluent German, and French, I dabble in Latin and have just begun studying Spanish. And of course perfect Dutch, I'm Dutch, from the Netherlands.

Carrie: Must have been a long journey.

Abraham: Yes, over fifteen hundred miles. Some of it was by train though. I admit I did not sleep well at all the last night.

He finally leans back again, relaxing. Carrie has a way of making people relaxed, literally.

Carrie: Well I was luckier I guess, I'm from this village. I slept in my own bed last night. I packed only this morning.

Abraham looks directly at her, for just over a moment, then shakes his head.

Abraham: I'm so sorry, I've been up all night, and far away from home, and I've not been myself... Worse yet I've been rude and talked much without asking about you or even introducing myself.

He extends his arm, and she graciously takes it, he bows by her hand.

Abraham: I am Abraham Van Helsing. I studied medicine at Cambridge, graduating just a few months ago at only 17.

Carrie: Very pleased to meet you, Abraham. I am Carrie Fernandez, and I guess you would say I'm something of a witch.

Abraham's recently regained composure shatters, and he recoils. It's just a moment and he quickly somewhat regains himself.

Abraham: A what? My lady such things don't exist, and even if they did you are a beautiful young girl, witches are supposed to be gnarled old hags.

Carrie amazingly keeps her warm composure.

Carrie: I thank you for the compliment, but I assure you, Abraham, not all witches are gnarled and old. Perhaps one day, but are not all who live long lives? I trust you'll soon shed any previous notions you might have about the supernatural.

The two sit for an unspecified amount of time, until about twenty minutes before sunset when a large jet black, polished, ornate gothic 6 horse(also black) carriage with three men sitting atop comes trotting into town from the opposite end, though it is visible down the long dirt road. The sight of such a dramatic, and imposing carriage, mixed with Carrie's somewhat imposing words makes Abraham a bit nervous, like a child about to enter a Halloween haunted house.

As the carriage comes closer more detail can be seen. It is beautifully crafted, with twirled and pointed pillars, ornate flowery and arched embroidery lining its edges. One man holds the reins of the horses, and the other two both hold firearms, one a shotgun the other a rifle. This makes Abraham even more nervous, giving him a deep sinking feeling in his stomach.

Abraham: Why are those men armed?

Carrie: We're going deep into Wallachia, Abraham. You're about to learn what's happening here, what's being hidden from the rest of the world.

Abraham doesn't reply, but his uneasiness is beginning to give way to terror. The carriage pulls up next to them and stops. The two armed men place their guns down on top of the carriage and hop down.

Wilbur: (gravelly and intimidating) Are you Abraham Van Helsing and Carrie Fernandez?

Abraham just stares, stunned.

Carrie: Yes we are. Can you help us with our luggage, please?

Wilbur: Of course, love, it's part of our job.

INT. Carriage, sunset

The carriage is even nicer from within, with soft velvet couch interior, and a small dimly lit lamp hanging from the ceiling. It begins to move just a few moments after the two have gotten in, and it's moving fast. The speed only adds to Abraham's growing fear.

Carrie seems slightly amused, but not in a spiteful way. Abraham looks out the small window, and for a moment as they cross a field he can see the golden sunset and the dark clouds billowing in the distance, where they're heading.

Carrie: Just get some sleep, we're likely to ride until the early morning.

Abraham looks at her, and exhausted glaze comes over his eyes, as he seems to remember how tired he is.

Abraham: That sounds like a wonderful idea.

He closes his eyes, we see it this from his perspective.

FADE TO BLACK

INT. Carriage, Night

Still dark, we hear a loud deep howl, distinctly different from that of a normal wolf. From Abraham's perspective, suddenly his eyes open. The carriage looks much the same as it did before, due to the lamp.

Abraham grabs the armrest to his right, tightly. His face gives away his horror, Carrie jumps as well, but from Abraham's reaction, not the howl itself.

Abraham: (terrified and shouting) What in God's name was that?!

Carrie sighs with slight annoyance.

Carrie: You scared me!

She sits back and folds her arms, seeming just a little angry, but more like a mother angry at a child.

Abraham is on the border of hyperventilating when two more of the strange howls break the air, much closer.

Abraham: (near panic) What is that?

Carrie shrugs.

Carrie: Sounds like a werewolf. Well, werewolves.

We hear a rifle blast. Abraham screams. Another rifle blast.

Carrie: Yes, definitely werewolves. Don't worry, I'm sure those men can handle it. Werewolves aren't so dangerous as they used to be. They're just fast brown bears that need a silver bullet.

Abraham stares at her in disbelief and horror. He goes to the window and strains to see. From his perspective, we see that it is now dark, and raining, greatly obscuring his line of sight. A hazy mass comes galloping into view, but is indistinct and obscured. Another rifle blast and the mass darts closer to the window and lets out a terrible bark deeper, louder, and angrier than any wolf, thudding the carriage as it does. Abraham leaps back shrieking bumping his head on the ceiling, landing on the other side of the bench.

Another shot and a loud whimper, like a wolf cry mixed with a human scream.

Carrie: I told you, those men can take care of it. Calm down, that's why they're here. Ecclesia would not risk losing new recruits en route.

Abraham stares back at her, panting slowly, brow furrowed with worry and disbelief.

Abraham: (gasping and quick) So werewolves are real?!

Carrie nods.

Carrie: Werewolves are real.

Abraham keeps the same look of worried disbelief. But continues.

Abraham: (same frantic tone) What else is real?

Carrie laughs, she loves a little fun with outsiders.

Carrie: Witches for one. Sorcery, sea creatures, Gorgons, almost everything really. Most of it has either gone extinct or is extremely rare. which is the case for most life really.

A sharp cry stops her, like a mix of a giant hawk and a woman screaming.

Carrie: Harpies are real too, but I think that's why they brought the shotgun.

A shotgun blast, and a thud against the carriage roof, Abraham jumps again but does not scream like a girl this time. Carrie smiles and laughs.

Carrie: Told you.

Abraham: So... my secret project, it... it involves monsters?

Carrie: Well, if you're heading to Ecclesia I'd assume so. What is it that you specialize in?

Abraham: Obscure diseases.

Abraham spends the rest of the ride wide awake, straining to see out the window, terrified.

EXT. Ecclesia Ruvas forest, very early morning

It's pouring rain, thunder and lightning boom and flash with regularity. The carriage pulls up to a large old building. It looks like a Cathedral, from which it was repurposed, with barracks and other buildings patched onto it.

INT. Carriage, Night

The doors pull open suddenly and Abraham, still awake but exhausted, jumps back. It's Wilbur, standing in the pouring rain.

Wilbur: Sorry kids, but you gotta get a little wet. Just run on inside and we'll bring in your things.

EXT. Ecclesia Ruver Forest, 3:31 AM

Carrie and Abraham run together through the rain to an open door. Through the rain, it looks like just a bright blur, with a figure standing in the center.

INT. Ecclesia library, night

Renon is standing in the library entrance. A brightly lit entry hall with a fountain and rounded stairs going up its side to the second floor, behind the fountain is a large suit of armor holding a zweihander pointed down. Renon is a man of average height wearing a dark green bowler hat, dark spectacles, a nice pressed dark green suit, and dark green-accented leather shoes. He has a little bit of stubble on his face, barely noticeable.

Renon: Hello, welcome to Ecclesia. My name is Renon, I am the head servant.

Carrie shakes his hand and smiles if she's tired she doesn't show it. Abraham, being inside a large building, finally begins to regain himself.

Carrie: I'm...

Renon: Carrie Fernandez.

Renon bows and kisses her hand. Then turns to Abraham.

Renon: And Abraham Van Helsing. We've been expecting both of you. It's very late, let's get the two of you to bed and you'll get the tour in the morning. We'll have Wilbur and Chick bring in your belongings.

Both of them nod graciously.

EXT. Ecclesia, late morning

It's light out, but foggy, and cloudy. Rendering the entire area a hazy gray-white.

Albus, a young man in his early-mid 20's with short brown hair and brown eyes comes riding up the dirt road on a brown and white horse. He wears tight blue denim trousers, and a long-sleeve white shirt with folded back sleeves under a dark brown leather vest, and dark brown boots.

He rides up to Ecclesia, we see it fully daylit for the first time. It's cross-shaped, as any cathedral. Each side is three stories tall, with the central tower extending up an additional two. There's also a two-story house-like barracks connected to the left-wing.

We see Albus on his horse from behind looking up at the building. Then close up to his belt line on the left, where a small sack and a strange spiked spherical cage hang.

INT. Ecclesia sorcery hall, late morning

Albus is walking with Barlowe, a middle-aged man with medium-length white hair, he is dressed in long flowing blue and gold robes. They are in the sorcery hall, a large room with marble floors, several podiums, half-empty bookcases dotting the walls, other magic artifacts dispersed throughout. The walls are a dark dim orange-gold with portraits of people of various ages. The windows are surrounded by flamboyant embroidery.

Barlowe: You've done very well Albus.

Albus: Thank you, master. So is this it? Have we completed the mission?

Barlowe: Almost.

Albus: Well when will we finish then? I'm ready now.

Barlowe: Patience, Albus. We will perform the ritual tomorrow morning, I can see that you've been up for multiple days on this task. You need to rest.

Albus scoffs.

Albus: Master, that's absurd. We have everything we need, let us waste no time.

Barlowe turns to him and stares at him hard, a disapproving look upon his face.

Albus backs down.

Albus: I'm sorry master.

Barlowe steps toward him, and his expression breaks into a caring smile. He swipes some dirt and mess off of Albus's shoulders. It looks like Albus had had some trouble retrieving what he had.

Barlowe: This will be no easy ritual, it will tax your body and soul to the uttermost. If you are not in top physical condition you will likely not survive it.

Albus: Yes master, you're right.

Barlowe pats his hand on Albus's shoulder, and the two continue walking.

Barlowe: This is everything we've worked for Albus, everything since I first brought you in.

INT. Ecclesia barracks, Carrie's room, late morning

Carrie wakes up later than normal, after sleeping for about 7 hours. Her room is small, with a twin-sized bed, a small desk, a stool, and one dresser. Light shines into her window, and she looks at her luggage, which sits adjacent to the bed. She gets up, clothed in a very fine nightgown provided to her the night before. She stretches, walks over to the trunk, opens it, kneels down and rifles through a few books, trinkets and other items, finally pulling out a wooden picture frame.

We see a close up of the picture. It's a very simple black and white photo. It shows a very young Carrie, maybe 4 or 5 years old. In the picture she is sitting in the lap of a woman who looks much like she does now, it's her mother. They both look very happy. Carrie places the picture on the desk, and moves it around a little, to find the right spot.

INT. EcclesiA entry hall, mid-day

In the entry hall, Abraham is already standing alone by the door. Carrie walks in and over to him.

Carrie: How did you sleep?

Abraham: Actually quite well. As soon as we got into the building... I don't know, I just felt much safer. Probably the stone walls and barred windows.

Carrie: Or maybe the fact this whole institution is filled with people capable of protecting you?

Abraham smiles and chuckles a little, just a tad smugly.

Abraham: I was thinking a lot about last night, and really nothing extraordinary happened. Just a series of events seemingly tailor-made to scare me to death.

Carrie's face gives disbelief, and her posture changes to match.

Carrie: So being chased down by werewolves and harpies isn't extraordinary to you? Could've fooled me by your reaction.

Abraham's barely smug smirk gives way to the smuggest grin.

Abraham: Well... let's look at what happened, as well as your claims. We heard deep loud howls and strange screeches. Our carriage obviously interacting with large animals of some type. You mentioned things like werewolves, harpies, fish-men... all animal monsters.

Carrie: But monsters.

Abraham: Well... I don't think so.

Carrie seems shocked at the statement.

Carrie: Not monsters?

Abraham: No, you see, I'm a prodigy in rare diseases, not just in humans. I think what we have here is some type of unknown giantism manifesting itself cross-species. Could give you extremely large wolves and bears, buzzards and hawks, fish and snakes. It's not odd that a woman from around here wouldn't understand such things.

Carrie's jaw drops, her brow furrows. She is angry and so, for the first time

Abraham hears what he has said and gasps.

Abraham: My goodness! I'm sorry, that didn't come outright. I don't think women are stupid, or unworthy of education... it's just that in this part of the world you're still...

Carrie's anger fades, but only into a sternness.

Carrie: I understand, and you're correct in most cases here.

She shifts her posture, still obviously displeased.

Carrie: And how do you explain witchcraft, sorcery? There are other creatures I did not mention who cannot be mistaken for big animals.

Abraham: Well, I haven't experienced any evidence for that.

Carrie smiles and raises her right hand.

Carrie: Fair enough.

She walks over to the fountain a few feet away, looks at Abraham and reaches down into the water without breaking eye contact. She stands up, with a handful of water. There is suddenly a puffing of cold foggy mist from her hand. She tosses the water up, and it freezes and floats above her finger as tiny icicles.

Abraham is stunned, speechless, his resolve and smugness are instantly destroyed. After a moment, the icicles fall to the floor and shatter.

Renon: Hello, I trust you've slept well.

Renon comes walking into the entryway. Breaking off any line of questioning Abraham might have wanted to get into.

Carrie: Very well, both of us.

Carrie turns to Abraham, who is still in shock and smiles wide.

Renon: Excellent. Now allow me to show you around.

Carrie: Wonderful.

Carrie grabs Abraham's arm like a lady being escorted by a gentleman. She looks at him and smiles.

Carrie: Shall we go Mr. Van Helsing.

Abraham is still speechless and shocked. They begin walking behind Renon.

INT. Ecclesia library, day

The library is a bit worn looking and large, about thirty yards wide, and fifty long. It has a second floor about a third the size with the central section opened to the bottom. There are several staircases, and ladders for reaching high stacks. Bookcases line every wall and form rows extending out over most of the floor, lanterns of various shapes and sizes dot throughout, but most light in the day comes from four large windows on the 2nd floor. In the center of the first floor is an old large man with a great bushy gray beard.

The three walk to the center, where the old man is sitting.

Renon: This is our master librarian, we have a card catalog of all the books here, but it would be easier just to ask him, he has every book here memorized, as well as their place.

The sight of such a library brings Abraham back into his element.

Abraham: Such a vast collection... where did they come from? ... I mean this was a cathedral yes? Did they empty a library here?

The master librarian laughs a high pitched almost musical laugh.

Master Librarian: Yes it would seem so, young master Van Helsing. This is my private collection, with significant contributions from other members of the organization. There's another level in the attic, for the more ancient and delicate books, and scrolls.

Abraham: And what languages? Romanian?

Master Librarian: Mmm.. some, but many are English, German, French. Some Arabic. Upstairs we've got Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Aramaic, and even a few texts from the Orient.

Abraham's eyes light up. And he extends a hand to the master librarian, who takes it and shakes graciously.

Abraham: I can assure you, sir, you will be seeing a lot of me.

Master Librarian: Well I look forward to it young man. We have good sections on every subject imaginable, and a substantial collection on history and the occult. We also have many recent scientific papers provided by the science staff.

Abraham is conflicted, the excitement of the scientific papers clashes with the reminder of what world he may find himself in, but he has books, and he decides here that if these occult things are real, he will use the resources available to learn everything he can about them. Carrie doesn't say much, just nods and smiles appropriately, seeming almost distracted.

Master Librarian: Well either of you is welcome here any time, but I imagine they will keep the two of you rather busy.

Renon: Indeed.

Abraham perks up again, he's starting to feel rather comfortable with Carrie.

Abraham: This is where I'll be spending most of my time.

Carrie smiles and takes his arm as before.

Carrie: You seem to take to new things rather quickly Mr. Van Helsing.

INT. Ecclesia, Shanoa's quarters, day

Shanoa, a very light-skinned elegantly beautiful young woman, with long thick black hair, and dark almost black eyes. She is fully dressed, in a long deep purple dress, with black gems lining certain areas, she is staring into a body-sized mirror. She stares for a moment at her reflection, with a look of competing concern and bravado.

INT. Ecclesia hall, day

Shanoa is walking down the hall, coming to a diagonally slanted wall with a large iron door. She knocks, and after a few moments it opens, and a very fit tall man in his early forties is standing in the doorway. He has dark gray hair and is wearing a large dark blue dogi, and light tan short pants. Shanoa bows her head.

Shanoa: Master Cornell, may I come in?

Cornell smiles warmly.

Cornell: Of course.

He steps to the side and motions inward. Shanoa walks into the room.

INT. Ecclesia, Corell's quarters, day

A large room with several lit lamps, but no windows. The walls are stone, and there are few pieces of furniture. At the center of the far wall from the door, is a double-sized bed, with a large wooden closet.

Shanoa: It must get so dark in here when the lamps are out.

She looks at him but responds to herself before he can with a chuckle.

Shanoa: But you can see perfectly well in the dark when you want to, so what's it matter?

Cornell: You know everyone else here calls me professor, maybe Sir, or even just Cornell, you know... my name.

Shanoa: Well most of the people here don't know and respect you as well as I do.

She smiles cutely. And he laughs a little in return.

Cornell: Well yes, Master is a fine title. But I would prefer it if you called me Cornell, as you know.

Shanoa: Of course. Just as you know how much I like to tease you about it, Cornell.

Her smile takes on a more genuine appeal, and she lets down any defenses she may normally walk with.

Cornell: So what brings you to my chamber today?

Her face gives away concern.

Shanoa: I'm to receive Dominus, today. The ritual is scheduled for dusk. Renon's only just told me.

Cornell: I wasn't aware.

Cornell keeps his composure but is very slightly noticeably troubled. He walks to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Cornell: It's sooner than I imagined, but you are ready. We've long since agreed on that, me and master Barlowe. How do you feel about it?

Shanoa exhales deeply, she obviously feels worried, apprehensive, but also obviously very comfortable with Cornell.

Shanoa: I'm not sure. I mean master Barlowe assures me I can handle it, that only I can handle it. I'm still not quite sure why.

Cornell: We are all different, in many ways. You are more different than most. I've never met anyone with such an ability to harness spiritual energy.

Shanoa cocks her head back a little and smiles at him sarcastically.

Shanoa: You mean dark energy. I think I'm years passed dressing it up.

Cornell speaks directly.

Cornell: Yes, you have an astounding tolerance for dark energy. Most people would succumb and be overtaken long before being able to wield anything. You have a unique strength.

Shanoa seems encouraged, but still worried. She doesn't meet his eye.

Shanoa: If I was born a few centuries earlier I would've been a devil forgemaster, one of Dracula's generals. Albus and little Drolta too. Why are we like this? I mean why are some of us made so seemingly predisposed to evil?

Cornell sighs and rubs his chin. He dives into his thoughts, ones he has had many times before, and explains the conclusions he's come to.

Cornell: I know well what you mean, and have long contemplated on my own similar inner conflict. Perhaps it is to test the morality of the group, rather than the individual. And luckily, born today the group has proven worthy of shaping the seemingly wicked into a sword of light.

We get the idea that Shanoa relates to Cornell on a deep level, a sort of father figure who understands her in ways few can, but we don't know the full extent of why yet.

Shanoa: Thank you, Cornell.

She smiles, seemingly comforted.

Cornell: Did you hear that Albus has returned?

Shanoa's demeanor instantly changes to pleased surprise.

Shanoa: No! No, I hadn't. He's early. When did he arrive? Where is he?

Cornell: He just returned this morning while you were still asleep, I think he rode through the night, he's still resting I believe. Master Barlowe has ordered that no one disturb him.

Shanoa frowns, obviously disappointed.

Shanoa: I wish they'd have woken me. I hope I can see him before tonight. I've missed him so much.

Cornell: I'm sure he knows that and that you two will be back to your normal routine in no time.

INT. Ecclesia hall, day

Renon is walking down the hall with a recently fed Abraham and Carrie behind him. Shanoa comes walking the other way. He seems surprised and a little troubled to see her.

Renon: Ah, Shanoa, you should be resting.

Renon sounds kind but firm.

Shanoa: I was just speaking with master Cornell.

Renon: Alright, well I'd like you to meet two of our new recruits, Abraham Van Helsing for our science wing, and Carrie Fernandez who will be working with you and master Barlow.

Shanoa: It's a pleasure to meet you.

Shanoa doesn't meet anyone's eyes and just walks on to her destination.

Renon turns to Abraham and Carrie.

Renon: Shanoa is our prime sorcery student. She studies privately with master Barlowe. And Cornell is a special colleague of his, as well as our instructor of hand to hand self-defense. Now let's continue, the science labs are just ahead.

He turns and motions down the hall.

INT. Ecclesia bio labs, day

The three walk into a large room sectioned off by makeshift walls that do not reach the high ceiling and vary in height. There are several bookcases filled to various levels. Renon turns to Abraham.

Renon: This is where you will spend most of your time. You will be working under Dr. Moritz Caligari.

Rather creepily right at that moment, a man steps out quickly. He is older, at least in his 50s, in a large top hat and small spectacles. He is dressed in a nice suit that struggles to hold around his rather impressive girth.

Dr. Caligari: Yes, I am Dr. Caligari.

He has a thick German accent. He walks right up into Abraham's face.

Dr. Caligari: And you must be Abraham Van Helsing.

He squints and stares hard into his face judgmentally, seemingly examining. Abraham seems less surprised than you might expect.

Abraham: Yes sir, Dr. Caligari, I look forward to working under you.

Dr. Caligari: Well young master Van Helsing, I imagine you shouldn't. You will do the most difficult work of your life here, and a lot of it. I doubt you'll have any time for anything besides work, meals, and sleep, and not always the last two.

Abraham: Yes sir, none too different than the University. I look forward to all you have to teach me.

Dr. Caligari finally relents, sort of. A quick flush of loud aggressively happy laughs rings everyone's eardrums.

Dr. Caligari: You've had German professors before, boy?

Abraham: Yes sir, many.

Dr. Caligari: Good! Well, I will see you again tomorrow.

Dr. Caligari turns to Renon.

Dr. Caligari: Always a pleasure, Renon.

Renon bows and Dr. Caligari returns to his area to continue his work.

Renon: There are several other respected doctors we have working here with us, who I'm sure you'll come to know well in time.

Renon smiles and bows.

Renon: And I believe that finishes up our tour.

Carrie seems upset for just a moment, then regains herself.

Carrie: And the sorcery tower?

Renon: I'm afraid we only enter there when ordered by master Barlow. You will see it tomorrow. There is also a Chapel in the north wing if you are interested.

Carrie is clearly very displeased at this news. She attempts not to show it like she wants to hide it. That becomes easier when someone else comes out.

Dr. Glendon: And don't forget the garden, Renon.

A younger man, late 20's-early30s walks into view from behind another of the makeshift walls. He has short well-combed brown hair, is wearing a long brown overcoat, with nice dark green slacks, and leather shoes. He extends a hand to Abraham and smiles.

Dr. Glendon: I'm Dr. Wilfred Glendon, resident botanist. I'm heading out to the garden to collect some samples. It's quite lovely and I would like some company.

Abraham shakes happily. His mouth opens wide as he remembers something.

Abraham: Dr. Wilfred Glendon. I've read your papers on obscure native herbal remedies.

EXT. Ecclesia garden, day

A large open garden cradled by the labs, barracks, and library, with various types of flora. It's separated into two distinct sections one of fruits, vegetables, and common herbs, separated by paths. The other section is filled with strange rare herbs and flowers, and some of the most exotic and eccentric-looking plants imaginable.

There is a young woman with light brown hair and a short light yellow summer dress, and wearing a blue pendant on a golden chain around her neck. She is walking down one of the paths by some flowers, holding a basket of fruit. She's about 15-16. A few feet away from where she walks, roughly keeping pace with her, is a black cat with bright green eyes, and walking a little further off, nose to the ground, is a very large brown furry dog.

Carrie seems particularly distracted. Her mind is very much elsewhere.

As the three of them walk into the garden. The dog looks up and gets riled, letting out a deep thunderous bark. Abraham freezes, he's never seen such a dog. It begins a full sprint at them, sensing his fear, and having never seen him before, the dog's protective demeanor prompts it to a show of strength.

The dog sprints at him, growling, and Abraham screams.

Abraham: Werewolf!

The dog stops short of him, and barks angrily. Carrie, Dr. Glendon, and the girl all turn to see Abraham somewhat close to being mauled. He is frozen. The young woman calls out at the dog authoritatively.

Ada: Larry! No! Get back here!

The dog instantly turns and heads back towards her. Abraham is still frozen in terror. Dr. Glendon calms him.

Dr. Glendon: That's Larry. He's just a dog, a big one. Now that Ada's scolded him for it, he'll never bother you again.

His tone gets rather serious, as does his facial expression.

Dr. Glendon: But I understand why a newcomer here may be jumpy. When I first got here... There is real evil here.

The young woman walks over to Abraham. She has a kindness about her. She's smiling. The cat keeps pace with her. Larry walks slowly behind her, his head down in shame.

Ada: Are you alright?

She places a hand on Abraham's face, examining. He's a little taken aback by this, but not at all displeased.

Abraham: I'm... yes... yes I'm fine... thank you.

Ada: Larry's just very protective of me, of all of us really. Now that he knows you he'll be protective of you too. In this place that's important.

She pets the dog thoughtfully on the head, picks up the cat.

Ada: I'm glad you're ok. We've got to go. It was nice meeting you.

She nods to Dr. Glendon and Carrie with a smile, then turns and leaves.

Dr. Glendon: That was Ada, she's Cornell's daughter. The cat belongs to Hugh, one of our resident vampire hunters.

It keeps on coming back to that, the monsters. Abraham's expression becomes serious and worrisome.

Abraham: Vampires too... This place... I guess that's what you mean about real evil.

Dr. Glendon furrows his brow and sighs. He turns and looks up at the old chipped brick walls of the barracks, patches of green growth going up and down it, and up to the white-gray covered sky.

Dr. Glendon: The people outside this region have no idea, but we are fighting Armageddon here.

Abraham jerks back, eyes bulging.

Abraham: Armageddon? What's happening here? How can this all be kept so secret?

Dr. Glendon: I'm going to be straight with you like they weren't with me when I got here.

Dr. Glendon turns to Abraham, Carrie is standing quietly, listening. Abraham looks rather afraid again.

Dr. Glendon: Come with me.

He turns and walks to a small sectioned off area of the garden, where some truly exotic plants are mixed with some that look completely normal. Dr. Glendon walks down a row of the eccentric plants to a very strange flower-like plant, about the size of a cantaloupe though not so perfectly round. It's shiny black like an insect's exoskeleton, it has several dark red veins of various sizes growing up the plant from a small light blue ring at the base of the flower. He kneels next to it and looks back to Abraham and Carrie.

Dr. Glendon: Have you ever seen this flower before?

Abraham shrugs.

Abraham: No, I think I would have remembered it.

Dr. Glendon smiles a bit.

Dr. Glendon: Yes, I didn't think so. This very strange flower is actually one of the rarest plants on earth. Have you any idea why that is?

Abraham: Well it could be several things. It's probably not related to the climate or soil contents, as this area is unexceptional in those ways unless you are giving it something. Maybe it comes from a small isolated region? Maybe it is just a very old and almost extinct species.

Dr. Glendon: You're well educated Mr. Van Helsing, but equal parts right and wrong.

Dr. Glendon motions his arm for the two to come closer.

Dr. Glendon: It is as ancient as it is rare. In fact, the only confirmed previous case of its existence was in a special monastery in Crete, over four thousand years ago.

Dr. Glendon pulls a small scalpel from his coat.

Dr. Glendon: I found this specimen on a small Mediterranean island where the native population still speaks a Latin dialect. Their entire culture was devoted to preserving them, planting all around the outside of their villages to keep away Striges and Empusas. Given how rare the flower is, and the proximity, it is likely this specimen is directly descended from those on Crete.

Abraham: Striges and Empusas? Parasites?

Dr. Glendon: Monsters, blood drinkers.

Dr. Glendon hands Abraham the scalpel.

Dr. Glendon: Go ahead and make a small incision anywhere on the bulb.

Abraham looks down and slowly does as told. As the blade cuts through the flesh-like black outer skin, dark blood drips from the incision. Abraham pulls back, startled.

Abraham: Is that...?

Dr. Glendon: Blood. Yes, it is.

Abraham pulls back more, scrunching his face in confusion and fear. Dr. Glendon takes back the scalpel.

Dr. Glendon: That ancient Greek monastery was a sanctuary for vampires that wanted to live in peace away from the temptation of mankind. They had to water it with their own blood... among other things. And those islanders, they had to go to much further means to keep them alive.

Abraham: So what do you give it?

Dr. Glendon: Nothing. This is the only place on Earth I know of where it can grow so freely. And every plant in this row is about as rare and hard to keep growing.

Abraham: So what's so special about this place?

Dr. Glendon: Well honestly... as far as I can tell... t's evil.

Abraham: What?

Dr. Glendon shrugs, then motions all around.

Dr. Glendon: The soil, the air, the essence, so much evil has lived and died in this place. It's poisoned. It's like a conduit to all the dark things of all the worlds.

He strokes his chin as his expression grows somewhat worried.

Dr. Glendon: Here is what no one told me before or even early after I got here. This place is truly evil. We're fighting against the apocalypse. All of us gathered from around the world, the best combination of people possible to face it, and they won't let any of us quit.

Abraham doesn't say a word, but he looks very worried and lost.

Carrie, who has been utterly silent since the revelation that they would not be seeing the sorcery tower, stares off into space, clearly lost in thought. Something is bothering her greatly.

INT. Ecclesia Shanoa's quarters, sunset

Shanoa is staring out her large window. It's almost dusk, and from her window, she sees a bit of the sky, and color from the sun unobstructed from the clouds. She now wears a much more ornate ceremonial dress, open at the shoulders and back revealing the strange tattoo-like symbols on her skin.

She looks down into the thick forest. We see from her perspective, she is gazing along the trees and stops at a perched white owl, staring right back at her. We see her stand and stare at the owl for an extended moment.

INT. Ecclesia hall, night

Abraham and Dr. Glendon are walking together down the hall talking, Carrie is a few paces behind, still silent, arms folded. Three men in armor come running down the hall carrying multiple munitions each. Dr. Glendon stops and moves out of their way, Carrie and Abraham follow suit.

Dr. Glendon: Ah, these are members of the Brotherhood of Light, our foot soldiers if you will. They are out there in the field actually fighting the good fight. Looks like something big will be happening soon, they've been readying things all day.

Abraham: It is quite an eclectic group of people that have all been collected here. Are you certain that is not the actual source of the organization's name?

Dr. Glendon laughs. And with a small smile looks over the two youths.

Dr. Glendon: It's nice to see you're capable of keeping your spirits up. That will be exceptionally useful in the work we are to undertake.

He looks over to Carrie. His expression becomes inquisitive and his head tilts.

Dr. Glendon: You've been awfully quiet, Ms. Fernandez. In fact, I don't think you've said a single word this whole time.

She is shaken back into the moment.

Carrie: I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired is all.

INT. Ecclesia hall, NIGHT

Shanoa is walking down the hall. It's dark, with just a few lamps struggling to light the way. She's nervous and jumpy. Suddenly there is a sound from a dark unlit section of the hall. Shanoa freezes, eyes locked on the darkness.

Shanoa: Who's there?

Silence. She takes a few steps towards the darkness, arms up and bent, in extreme apprehension.

Shanoa: Hello? Whoever's there better answer me.

A few more moments of silence, and then another louder sound of someone moving in the darkness. And a man steps out. Shanoa shrieks, but it's Albus. He's smiling sarcastically.

Albus: Boo.

In an instant Shanoa's mood changes from frightened to overjoyed. She leaps at him and embraces him lovingly.

Shanoa: Albus! I'm so glad you're back.

After an embrace of several moments Shanoa pulls back and slaps him gently on the chest.

Shanoa: You scared me.

Albus: You know how I like to tease you.

She hugs him again. Both seem truly happy to see one another.

Shanoa: I was really hoping to see you before tonight.

She became apprehensive once again.

Albus: Yes, I noticed your dress. What's going on?

He takes her hand. She becomes conflicted, so happy to be with Albus again, but worried at the same time, of what she must do.

Shanoa: Well, I was just told this morning, but I'm to be the bearer of Dominus.

Albus: What?

Albus freezes, his expression switching to disbelief and confusion.

Shanoa: Yes, I'm heading there now. Master Barlowe is preparing the ritual.

Albus pulls his hand away and becomes very obviously troubled.

Albus: That can't be right. I just spoke with master Barlowe this morning... He assured me that I would be the bearer of Dominus, as he did at the onset of my last mission.

Shanoa pulls back a little as well. It's obviously an uncomfortable moment for her, but it's much more troubling for Albus.

Shanoa: Well, it's not our place to question the master's decisions, or when he changes them.

She takes on a rather formal tone and expression. Albus seems to get a little desperate.

Albus: You don't understand Shanoa...

He struggles with his words, seeming less like he's trying to figure out what to say than what not to.

Albus: Master Barlowe promised me that I would be the bearer... It was very important.

Shanoa looks almost embarrassed, definitely uncomfortable.

Shanoa: I'm sorry Albus, I don't know what to say. Master told me that only I was even capable of it. And it's not up to us.

Albus is in shock. Shanoa looks at him sympathetically for a moment.

Shanoa: I'm truly sorry Albus, but I have to go now, master is waiting for me. I'm glad you're back. We'll talk more later.

She smiles and hugs him, but he does not hug back. He's still in shock. As she starts to walk away he grabs her arm.

Albus: (bordering hysterical) Shanoa you don't understand! I have to be the bearer, you can't! I won't allow it!

She pulls back angrily, both offended and frightened by his behavior.

Shanoa: Albus what's wrong with you? You're frightening me. Now, I told you I'm sorry, but the choice is neither of ours. We have our orders.

Shanoa turns and begins walking away quickly. Albus just stands motionless and silent, his anguish clear on his face. His eyes watch her until she exits into a stairway.

Albus: Orders may be orders, Barlowe...

He regains his composure a bit, stands straight, and places his hand on the shotgun hilted in his vest.

Albus: But I'm holding you to your promise.

INT. Ecclesia sorcery chamber, night

A large open room, the top level of the sorcery tower, five stories up. The room is wide with green marble walls. Blue steel embroidery extends into something of a veranda in the center of the far wall, extending out from it is a platform stage with three podiums aligned in a triangle. A book sits closed on each. Barlowe is standing below the stage looking up towards the podiums. He turns as Shanoa enters the room and the two walk towards each other.

Barlowe: Welcome Shanoa. How are you feeling?

He has a warm smile on his face, seems very fatherly. Shanoa, on the other hand, looks like she is trying as hard as she can to hold back a flood of terror.

Shanoa: I'm ready, master.

Barlowe places a comforting hand to her cheek, forcing her to look into his eyes.

Barlowe: I know you are my dear, Shanoa. But are you sure that you do?

She exhales deeply, opens up.

Shanoa: Just a little bit of self-doubt.

Barlowe: Don't be ridiculous, my dear. I am completely certain that you can do this. Only you can do this. Cornell agrees.

She seems to become more comfortable.

Shanoa: Thank you, master. I know, it's just that for so long we've been working towards this, and now it's ready, and I'm to be the bearer.

Barlowe: In truth Shanoa, I always had a pretty good idea that it would be you.

His smile becomes a grin, like the proudest of parents. Shanoa perks up, seeming much more confident.

Shanoa: I know that I'm ready, master.

Barlowe: Then let us get started. Step onto the platform, my dear, in the center of the podiums.

He gestures to them, and they both walk over. Shanoa steps into place and Barlowe stands directly in front of her but not on the stage. He extends both hands, palms up, closes his eyes, and begins whispering incantations. Shanoa stands resolutely in place, a last trace of fear still hanging on her face. She closes her eyes.

After a moment Barlowe's whispers become louder and sound as if they are coming from all directions, in many different voices. The books on the podiums levitate about five feet into the air. The pages begin turning rapidly as if blown by the wind, as they do bluish-purple circular auras form around them, becoming larger and less transparent as the pages turn further. After a few moments, wisps of white fog begin to drift around them.

When all the pages have turned the books close, but remain in place. The auras overtake them completely, becoming round balls of glowing energy. They begin revolving in circles above her head. The fog whirls around like storm clouds. The energy orbs waver like water in zero gravity.

After a moment a small tendril extends from each orb, pointing down towards Shanoa. They grow as they slowly climb down towards her, tornado-like in appearance.

The markings on Shanoa's shoulders and back begin to glow, and the tendrils touch them.

Suddenly our view changes.

CUT TO

We see Shanoa, nude and glowing white, her hair a starkly contrasting blackness. She floats in a dark ethereal dreamscape. The markings on her shoulders and back glow a bright red, the purple tendrils pour into them, the orbs getting smaller as they do. Suddenly she screams, and there is a loud smashing sound.

CUT TO

We see from Shanoa's perspective in slo-mo. She's on the ground, everything is hazy but coming into focus. The podiums are down and in pieces. There are flames. Barlowe is turning rapidly, his arms dancing around in a defensive spell. Albus is standing behind him, his shotgun pointed directly at her and smoking, bright red runes blazing on the barrel. The three books suddenly fly to him, and he holds them under his other arm.

Now from the side, we see Albus and Barlowe facing each other, about five yards apart. Albus is pointing his shotgun at Barlowe. Barlowe is holding his hands up, fingers curled as if straining to hold back a phantom weight.

Barlowe: Albus what have you done!? You know how delicate the ritual is!

Albus: You lied to me.

Barlowe: Albus-

Albus: (cutting Barlowe off, enraged) I was to be the bearer! You promised me!

Barlowe: We each have our role! If you had followed orders you might have come to understand that. Above all else, Shanoa is the only one with the capacity for Dominus. You had to know that, deep down. She has a much stronger affinity.

Albus: We still have time, I can become stronger. You said I had much more potential. What happened to working together?

Barlowe: Perhaps we still can. Together we can overcome even this setback.

Albus: Shut up. I can feel your tricks. You won't sway me. It's too late.

Just then the door swings open hard and quickly, and into the room thunders a giant man, almost 7 ft. He has light gray skin, with severe medical scarring marking his exposed flesh along muscle contours and some joints. He wears a large dark gray coat, denim slacks, and a simple shirt. His eyes are white and glazed, he is a Frankenstein-like creation. Barlowe turns to the door and shouts quickly.

Barlowe: Coller, stay back!

Coller, the living dead man, obeys. Barlowe turns back to Albus.

Barlowe: Tell me, Albus, what do you intend to do with Dominus.

Albus: I'm taking it.

Barlowe: Be rational! Without that Glyph, our mission is a failure! Dracula's vessel-

Albus: I have my own mission now. I'll wield it against the dark lord.

The runes on Albus's shotgun start to light up again. And Coller starts sprinting towards him, faster than a normal human.

Barlowe: Coller no!

Albus turns the gun on the charging Coller, and when he pulls the trigger a fiery charged smoldering blast fires out, slamming into Coller and throwing the giant back several yards, crashing into the stone wall which gives way under his weight. Red smoldering brimstone-like buckshot lays burning in his arms and chest.

Albus quickly turns the gun back on Barlowe, and again the runes light up. Another blast identical to the last one, but Barlow throws his hands forward and the smoldering brimstone smashes into another blue wall of energy extending from Barlowe's hands. The room is rocked, but Barlowe and the area behind him, Shanoa included, are unscathed.

Albus: You've shown me my role. You're my master no longer...

Albus leaps from the tower window, the three books in hand. Barlowe is visually weakened and falls to one knee.

Barlowe: So... close...

Coller suddenly rises from the rubble, bloody and in shambles, one arm hangs barely connected, one of his eyes is gone. He speaks with a voice of gravel, and a cockney accent.

Coller: Master, y'alright?

Barlowe looks at him.

Barlowe: I'm fine, but...

His head jerks to Shanoa's motionless body, which lay across the stage.

Barlowe: No!

He quickly runs to her and is on the stage in an instant. He places a hand to her cheek and moves her head slightly. Suddenly he turns to Coller and shouts.

Barlowe: Summon the Doctors! She's alive!
« Last Edit: March 25, 2020, 03:46:04 PM by AlexCalvo »
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13104670/1/Castlevania-Birth-of-the-Dragon

Dracula was not always a monster. He was once a man named Mathias Cronqvist. A flawed, conflicted, genius of a man. How did the educated, aristocratic, crusader who piously served the church become a vampire, and eventually the Dark Lord himself, the opposing force to God? From a very young age terrors and tragedy shaped the man into the king of all evil. This is his story.

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #1 on: March 18, 2020, 09:40:39 AM »
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I definitely recognised a lot of the characters in this. Although I'm thinking that Reinhardt isn't involved since he's together with Rose.
"Spirituality is God's gift to humanity...
Religion is Man's flawed interpretation of Spirituality given back to humanity..."

Online AlexCalvo

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #2 on: March 18, 2020, 12:49:15 PM »
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I definitely recognised a lot of the characters in this. Although I'm thinking that Reinhardt isn't involved since he's together with Rose.

Episode 2 will be out this week.  Not every character has been introduced😉.  Thank you for reading.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13104670/1/Castlevania-Birth-of-the-Dragon

Dracula was not always a monster. He was once a man named Mathias Cronqvist. A flawed, conflicted, genius of a man. How did the educated, aristocratic, crusader who piously served the church become a vampire, and eventually the Dark Lord himself, the opposing force to God? From a very young age terrors and tragedy shaped the man into the king of all evil. This is his story.

Online AlexCalvo

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #3 on: March 20, 2020, 08:39:32 PM »
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Episode 2 is up.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13520265/2/Castlevania-The-Live-Action-Series

"The Brotherhood of Light leads an attack against the powerful vampire Mordan at Deborah Cliff. In secret the monster hunter Reinhardt Morris sneaks in to take Mordan on himself. In Ecclesia the whole organization reacts to the surprising attack from one of their own."

EPISODE II: HEART OF FIRE

EXT. Baljhet mountains, morning

It is a dark, cloud-covered morning, massive stony gray mountains surround us. There is little if any vegetation. A large unit of soldiers marches through a small cut through the rock. About forty strong. They are all heavily armored and holding rifles. At the front of the marching is the commanding officer, Henry Oldrey, a tall athletic man in the same armor as the others but without a helmet. He has longish blond hair, tied behind him in a short tail. He is holding a very different gun from the others as well, a very steampunk weapon that basically amounts to a shotgun flame thrower.

We hear a screech in the distance, like an eagle but lower-pitched and raspier. Henry holds up his hand in a fist, all stop marching without a word, in complete silence. After a moment we hear a much deeper lion-like roar. Henry looks behind him to his men and nods. All draw their weapons, aim them into the air, all scanning the sky, Henry included.

CUT TO

EXT. Baljhet mountains, morning

We see from the air, from an unknown perspective the view from up in the clouds, moving quickly downward in a slightly jerky manner, quick flaps of gray wings flash by. As we fall faster and faster we pull back revealing monstrous gargoyle-like vampires swooping down onto the soldiers.

The soldiers all begin firing their weapons into dozens of fully visible monstrous vampires, the children of Mordan. They zig-zag, readying to swoop down on the soldiers, but they've never faced forces in these numbers, nearly all the vampires are hit, several rather badly, a few fatally, dropping from the sky. We zoom onto two of the vampires swooping down very close to each other, they are both diving for Henry. He lifts his weapon and fires, red hot buck shot flies in tandem with an oozy burning napalm-like liquid. Both vampires tumble to the ground, covered in gunshots and flames.

It's not long before the vampires' numbers swell and we see several soldiers snatched up or tackled to the ground, drawing short swords and fighting in close quarters.

Another battalion of soldiers comes in from behind dragging two cannons along with them. Their soldiers provide immediate backup. It's now truly chaos, with dozens of vampires swirling around, repeater rifles firing bullets all through the sky, a battle like no other.

After a few moments, the first cannon shot goes off, smashing into the entrance of Deborah cliff, Mordan's mountain stronghold. It sits high in the Baljhet mountains, not far from the battle. While the blast is seemingly just for the purpose of attack, it is, in fact, a secret signal.

EXT. BALJHET MOUNTAINS, MORNING

We are now near the peak of another cliff, across from Debora Cliff, we see a man from behind scanning across at the battle, small binoculars up to his eyes, most of his face is obscured by a dark red scarf tied around and hanging down his back. He has short brown hair and is tall and athletic, even more so than Henry. He has a sword on his hip and several smaller weapons placed strategically on his waist. Around his neck hangs a strange talisman, just three large jewels, an emerald, a ruby, and a sapphire. On the opposite side from his sword are two strange crosses. His name is Reinhardt Morris.

We see from his perspective as the second cannon fires, smashing into the rocks just inside of Debora cliff, we follow the ball the entire way. Reinhardt stands and takes a deep breath. He puts down his head, closes his eyes, and takes his amulet in his hand. He whispers.

Reinhardt: Courage, don't leave me.

He takes a rather large iron cross from his belt and aims the top prong towards Debora Cliff. Holding the cross firmly from underneath with his right hand, he pushes down on a hidden button rather firmly with his left. The top prong fires off with a gunshot unnoticed due to the foray below, a small thin strange metal chain flying with it, streaming out of the rest of the cross, seeming to be magically endless. The prong smashes into the rocks at the entrance of the Cliff and Reinhardt quickly presses down a second hidden button just above the first. The chain begins to retract at a decently quick pace and Reighnhart leaps from the cliff, swinging briefly like Tarzan, once again unseen thanks to the battle.

CUT TO

Henry's perspective again, he is watching Reinhardt in his task while simultaneously dealing with the slightly slimmed onslaught, his forces more than slimmed themselves. He begins running towards a large box some of the soldiers had been carrying.

CUT TO

Reinhardt slamming into the cliff at quite a rate. When he hits the jewels of the amulet all flash their respective colors, and though a bit shaken, he is fine. and is quickly making his way up the mountain. He is going more for speed than finesse and his stealthy luck finally runs out. A vampire dives at him, but he kicks off a stone, and in one flash of motion, pulls his sword from its sheath and slashes the vampire's head in half with a flash of light, the sliced flesh smolders red. The vampire drops from the air like a stone. Reinhardt's sword glows bright white. Another vampire quickly slams into him, but he knocks it back, then even quicker slashes into its torso. There is the same flash, and the wound burns deeper into the vampire's flesh. It also drops.

It is not long before more are upon him. He manages to knock one back, and it is shot right in the chest. Reinhardt knocks back the second, and it too is shot and killed.

CUT TO

Henry is standing with a customized, slightly bigger bolt action rifle with a small telescope somewhat makeshiftedly attached to the top. His eye to the lens. He squeezes off another shot and quickly chambers the next.

CUT TO

Reinhardt making his way up at a quick pace, vampires being shot one by one around him. Every now and then one grabs him but is quickly thrown off. His sword is now sheathed.

By the time he makes it to the top, the vampires have eerily stopped attacking him. He pulls himself over the last edge and is standing in the mouth of the large cave entrance to Debora Cliff. He pops the tip of his cross out of the stone it had been embedded in. He is on his way to see Mordan personally. The battle was just a distraction.

INT. Debora Cliff, morning

Reinhardt is walking down a long stone cave, lit brightly by his out-held sword. We enter Mordan's throne room, where we finally see him. He's a massive, muscular gray monstrosity, large taloned hands and feet, a large bat-like snout on his face, long pointed ears, and a shark-like jaw filled with jagged teeth. Behind him hang his giant wings, long black hair tied back, a ragged hide cloth covers his nether regions, and he has an odd, scimitar-like sword at his hip. The room is dotted with the same type of vampires from the battle, as well as some taller more Mordan-like higher ranking versions gathered around his throne.

As Reinhardt approaches, the smaller vampires in the room move to attack. Two charge him, but he charges back and in rapid figure-eight motion slices both into pieces. Mordan sits and watches curiously. His higher-ups wait patiently at his side. Two more of them attack, this time from opposite directions.

He quickly tosses a test tube-like vial of holy water at one of them and begins spinning to slice the other with his sword. The holy water burns deep into the vampire's flesh and a dull blue flame rises from it. The vampire wails and writhes in pain. Another one charges while he is in mid-swing. He rolls out of the way quickly, aborting the attack.

He almost instantly pulls a small axe from the side of his vest and in a single spinning motion slams the axe into one of the vampire's necks and stabs down into the other with his sword, entering around the shoulder and going in about a foot. He moves so lithely, he could almost be dancing.

One vampire stumbles back, gargling, clawing at the axe still embedded about halfway into its neck. Reinhardt holds his sword, smoldering, burning fiercely in the other vampire's torso. After a brief moment, the whole creature ignites. He pulls the blade out and quickly tosses a small knife into the bat-likee nose of the holy-watered vampire that has just about recovered, stunning it again. As the two remaining vampires pull the weapons from their bodies Reinhardt, in another beautiful spinning motion, chops them both in half with his sword.

A few remain, but Mordan lets out a high pitched, glass shattering squeal and they back down. Reinhardt stands a bit more relaxed than would be expected. Mordan finally speaks, his voice booms and crags, as monstrous as his appearance.

Mordan: So, you've come to kill me, little hunter?

Reinhardt says nothing, only stares into Mordan's grotesque face. After a moment Mordan speaks again.

Mordan: Nothing to say? Unusual among your kind.

Reinhardt breaks in quickly, almost interrupting.

Reugnhart: You're much uglier than your siblings. Were you ever human?

Mordan exhales sharply and makes a strange clicking sound and his higher-ups instantly leap to attack. Reinhardt leaps to the side and throws his sword, blade first into one vampire's chest. It screams as the wound burns.

Mordan General 1: Ahhh! It burns like the sun!

Reinhardt tosses two small knives right into the second vampire's knee caps and it falls to the ground. And in another smooth motion, he leaps toward the third and final vampire, pulls his large iron cross from his belt and smashes the vampire in the face with it. As it stumbles back, bloodied, Reinhardt stabs with the longer bottom prong into the creature's heart. He quickly spins to grab the sword out of the now inflamed first vampire, and slices the second one's head clean off. The bodies slump to the floor, and the burned ashes kick up in the wind.

Mordan stares at Reinhardt menacingly.

Mordan: One of the old breed. Wasn't sure your type still existed.

Reinhardt holds his sword ready.

Reinhardt: They'll be saying that about you tomo-

Before he can finish he is tackled by Mordan, who leapt from his thrown with incredible speed and force. Again Reinhardt's talisman flashes and the two fly through the air, Mordan flapping his large wings furiously, ripping them through and out of the cave.

EXT. Baljhet Mountains, morning

The two are quite high up and moving higher. After a moment, at the height of about roughly 18 stories, Mordan hurls Reinhardt into a deadly free fall.

Reinhardt reacts in an instant, pulling the iron cross again from his belt and firing directly at Mordan. The pronged head enters Mordan's left thigh as he turns towards his lair, and pierces straight through his leg, stopping a little less than halfway through his other. The pain and extra weight draw Mordan into a drop with Reinhardt, who is holding on from the cross. Mordan roars angrily and in agony.

After just a moment Mordan is able to regain himself, flapping his massive bulky wings with enough force to pull the two up in small jerks. Reinhardt takes the 2nd cross from his belt, which is much different. Flat, made of silver, each prong the same length, widening and edged at each end. It's a boomerang. He hurls the boomerang cross with immense force and it flies straight through Mordan's right-wing, the wound tearing open larger as the wing rips in mid-flap. After a moment the cross comes shredding back through the left wing, and right back into Reinhardt's hand.

Mordan can no longer fly, and his furious flapping is just enough to keep them from terminal velocity, and destroying his wings even further. The two crash into the side of one of the many mountains, a decent ways from Mordan's lair. Both roll down, Reinhardt's talisman flashing at every bump. After a bit, the two end up on a relatively flat plateau in the range, both in surprisingly good shape.

Mordan rips the prong and chain from his legs, but before he can do more, Reinhardt yanks hard, pulling the prong back to him, where the chain promptly retracts into the cross. Mordan's wings have already begun to heal, his legs will soon as well. Reinhardt is already holding his sword at the ready, Mordan pulls his blade from his side. We see it well for the first time. The handle is little more than a thick wooden stick, but the blade is ancient and black, it curves back with several small points extending from the main blade, we can barely make out a dark smoke emanating from it.

The two charge and swing their swords powerfully. They hit and crash loudly, Reinhardt's flashing white as it is knocked back rather dramatically. Mordan quickly grabs him and throws him down to the floor. Reinhardt hits the ground hard, and again the talisman flashes. In a jolt, Reinhardt spins up onto his feet and quickly spin kicks Mordan in the ribs. We hear the crack of bone and Mordan stumbles back. Reinhardt quickly and fiercely slices at Mordan's face, but Mordan pulls back and the blade barely nicks his nose.

Mordan goes into a rage, chopping down at Reinhardt ferociously, roaring in anger, echoing through the mountains. As does the loud clanging as Reinhardt blocks with his sword. He is being slammed back with each hit. Suddenly, while he is the slightest bit stunned Mordan grabs the arm he has his sword in and yanks it incredibly powerfully, intending to rip it off. His talisman flashes brighter than before, and the arm stays put, but several of the bones in it are crushed or cracked, and the muscles are about severed, he drops his sword.

He screams out and Mordan slashes into his chest, the blade enters what looks like close to halfway through Reinhardt's torso, from breast to breast. Reinhardt's talisman flashes much brighter than previously, and for longer.

He should be dead, but is clearly not, though he has a nasty gash across his chest, bleeding rather steadily. It is significantly smaller than it should be. Mordan readies to swing again, but Reinhardt is able to take advantage of his surprise and pulls another small axe from his vest, and chops strongly into Mordan's left temple. He's stunned, and Reinhardt chops furiously a second time. He drops his blade, Reinhardt chops a third time, he has made it now a few inches into Mordan's head. Mordan throws him several yards back. He rolls to his sword.

Mordan, breathing heavily and angrily snarls out, pointing at Reinhardt's talisman and waving his finger about.

Mordan: You've got quite a bag of tools!

Reinhardt sheathes his sword, sticks his good hand inside his vest, taking hold of something hidden.

Reinhardt: You have no idea.

He tosses a grenade from within his vest straight for Mordan's face, Mordan is able to move but the grenade goes off mere feet from him, blasting him back, burning with flames, spraying him with shrapnel. As soon as the grenade leaves his hand Reinhardt grabs a small bottle from a pouch on his bag, it is filled with a bright blue, glowing liquid. Reinhardt splashes it on his gaping chest wound a few times and then takes a decent swig. In just a moment his wounds are healing at an incredible rate.

He charges Mordan, who is just getting back to his feet. He slashes down at Mordan, who leaps back but still takes a horrific gash through his right forearm and hand. Mordan takes a defensive stance, and Reinhardt starts to charge again. Suddenly Mordan projectile vomits over a gallon of thick chunky meaty blood and stomach acid, it covers Reinhardt's face and upper body, and burns like near-boiling waters, and singes the flesh a good bit. Reinhardt's talisman glows, and he quickly rips off and throws his scarf, greatly decreasing the damage to most of his face.

Mordan grabs him and hurls him back against the rock where he smashes hard. Though he is in serious pain, and still burning, Rignhart makes to his feet a bit weakly, but Mordans flaps his freshly healed wings and gale winds toss Reinhardt back into the rocks. Mordan, with his sword again, leaps onto Reinhardt, stomping the hand he had damaged earlier, smashing the bones to gravel. Reinhardt screams in pain.

Mordan pins his other arm to his side, and with his other hand stabs his blade into Reinhardt's ribs, just below his chest, pushing hard, but finding significantly more resistance than you'd expect. Reinhardt wales, his talisman glowing immensely, as if about to explode. The flesh just around the blade begins to slowly decay.

Reinhardt manages to reach his iron cross, presses the button and the chain shoots up smashing through a vial of holy water and up into Mordan's chest, tearing all the way out through the back of his neck igniting all flesh in route with holy water. Mordan pulls back, drops his blade again and screams out more ferociously than we've heard so far. Reinhardt grabs his sword with his good hand and stabs deep into the center of Mordan's chest. The flesh surrounding Reinhardt's blade smolders red hot, like fire embers.

Mordan falls to his knees and lets out an immensely loud squeal lower-pitched than the previous. Reinhardt holds the blade firmly in place.

Reinhardt: Who is working to resurrect the dark lord?

Mordan trembles in pain, coughing up blood and smoke.

Mordan: Ckk k ach... Th... The usual b.. bunch.

Mordan's eye bulge out, his mouth opens wide choking, screaming. He begins to convulse. Reinhardt rips the blade out and quickly slashes him across the chest, rather deep, then sheathes his sword and grabs another bottle of the strange blue healing liquid. He takes a couple of deep gulps. Then splashes it about his face and upper body, the last bit is poured onto his pulverized hand.

Mordan lies on the ground. His wounds from the sword are blackened, charred, slowing their healing significantly.

Reinhardt: I'm going to assume that means you, and your brothers and sisters. Orlok, Carmilla, the whole lot.

Amazingly Mordan manages to chuckle a bit. Reinhardt leans down closer.

Reinhardt: You're a lot tougher than I imagined. But I know you called out to your freaks, so I need you to tell me now. Why has his army returned?

Reinhardt stabs his blade into Mordan's side quickly, but not very deeply. Mordan roars out in pain. His large charred black wounds are no longer so terrible, but still present. His children can be seen now in the distance, making way for him.

Mordan: This... is not his army.

Reinhardt: Who's trying to bring him back?

Mordan: Sorcerers, vampires, dark spirits, you know the type.

By now Mordan's forces darken a portion of the sky. Reinhardt is increasingly impatient.

Reinhardt: Give me names, or I'll kill you right now.

Mordan tries to bring himself up with his right arm and Reinhardt chops it clean off. Again Mordan wales.

Mordan: Carmilla, Actrise, Death... The usual.

Reinhardt: And the sorcerer?

Screams and cries fill the air. Mordan's brood is almost upon them. Reinhardt looks out at them, and down at Mordan, who quickly flaps himself up with his completely healed wings. Reinhardt swings his sword hard, looking to lop off Mordan's head, he makes it about halfway through his neck but doesn't get the kill. Mordan's forces are too close, he must flee. Mordan gets air born, heading back towards his quickly approaching army.

As Reinhardt is running for a cave he looks back and hurls his cross boomerang, it rips through Mordan's left wing, chopping it right off, and a moment later when returning slices through the right half of his mid-back and stomach at the naval. He drops from the sky, his children quickly catch and sustain him. Reinhardt catches the cross boomerang on its return right as he enters the cave.

INT. Cave, morning

After dashing several yards Reinhardt turns momentarily grabbing another vial of holy water from a pouch, this one significantly larger, though he is low. He splashes it all around, emptying the bottle, which he tosses, and continues on again at a sprint, his wounds are all significantly healed by now.

We see the view from behind as the swarm of vampires comes crawling from all sides of the cave wall quickly when they hit the holy water the front line all around ignite into blue flame. The ones from the roof and walls tumbling down, igniting others. They writhe and scream, slowing the herd rather well.

As Reinhardt pushes forward the caves get wetter, when he finally reaches a very shallowly flooded area he pulls a strange rosary out. It has strange markings and jewels, and very archaic art. He drops it in the water and continues. Where he shortly comes to a mouth in the cave sitting about ten feet above a strong river, he leaps in.

When the vampires reach the area with the rosary, all the water flashes white so bright it's blinding. Dozens of vampires are vaporized.

EXT. Baljhet mountains, morning

Reinhardt hits the water and splashes down deep into it, clouds of dull red Mordan blood form around him. His head comes up above the water, he takes a deep breath and throws on a small pair of goggles before diving back down into the water. We see from his perspective, he swims forward, launching himself through the water even quicker than the brisk current, dodging large rock outcrops.

After a bit of swimming through the river, he flies out of a waterfall and falls into a dive down into a large lake bleeding into small rivers. He swims for the shore, but while he is en route we see from his perspective a murky shadow coming up from below. He draws his sword and we see from under the water two monstrous fishmen are swimming up towards him. They are light green with razor teeth and large webbed claws. They pull back at the brightness of his sword, which still glows, illuminating the water.

After just a moment's hesitation, one lunges at him. He quickly stabs at it, hitting it in the face. It drifts down to the bottom. He begins to swim again, harder than before but with his sword in his left hand, the second fishman is still following, and a third soon joins it. By the time he makes it to water shallow enough to stand in, they are both mere feet from him.

The one closer to him quickly jerks its head back as if regurgitating and spits out a softball-sized yellow ball of sludge. He's able to block the majority of it with his sword but small flecks stick to his armor and skin, slowly burning into them.

Not even reacting to the pain he quickly grabs another axe from his vest and hurls it into the farther fishman's face. He spins under the closer one and slices deep into its chest, it slumps over dead. Before he can dispatch the axed beast another lunges from the water and latches onto his arm with its sharp claws. It yanks him back and goes to chomp into his face.

He quickly headbutts its nose and the creature reels back. He chops a good six inches into its head. A few more fishmen have now gathered at the shore, but suddenly when feint vampire cries can be heard echoing in the mountain they rush back into the water. And Reinhardt makes a run for it.

EXT. Forest path, late afternoon

A woman is running frantically down a dirt path through a thin forest.

INT. Cabin, late afternoon

Two young girls, both seven years old, are playing inside an old wooden cabin. The cabin has many interesting things, stacks of old books, many strange and conventional plants, odd cooking ware, small gems, bones, vials of powders and liquids. The two girls are happily playing with dolls. There's a sudden banging on the door.

CUT TO

INT. Ecclesia, Carrie's quarters, late morning

EXTREME CLOSE UP: Carrie's eyes opening

Carrie wakes up with a deep gasp. She sits up quickly and grabs the picture of her and her mother. She looks out the window and gets up off the bed, placing the picture back where it had been.

INT. Ecclesia large open room, day

A large open room with padded floors, the walls are blue and lined with various weapons from simple to artistically ornate as well as large portraits and drawings of ancient warriors, in the far corner from the door is a small spiral staircase going up to the next level.

Abraham is standing by the door. Carrie soon walks through it. They are both wearing loose-fitting short clothes.

Abraham: Did you hear the commotion last night?

Carrie nods.

Carrie: Yes I did. Do you know anything about it?

Abraham is hushed and seems frightened.

Abraham: I don't know anything. I didn't dare leave my room until I had to report here.

Carrie: Apparently there was some sort of accident involving a couple of sorcery students and a professor. That's all I could get out of Renon last night.

Abraham is taken aback, he looks confused.

Abraham: Did Renon come to your room?

Carrie: I went out after the crashes and explosions, I thought we might have been under attack.

Abraham: Attack? From what?

Abraham seemingly dreads asking. Carrie smiles.

Carrie: There are some very big, very bad things, much worse than werewolves, harpies, and witches deeper in those woods, towards the castle.

Abraham: The castle?

Before either can say any more Cornell comes walking down the staircase. He is wearing a tight black shirt with sleeves to mid-forearm, and a small tight leather padded, fur-lined, tan vest. He comes down and quickly walks to his two new pupils. He is quick and angry with his words. It's obvious he's not in the best mood.

Cornell: Have you any training at all?

He calls out without wasting any time on pleasantries, or proper introductions.

Abraham: Training in what?

Cornell's eyes meet Abraham's and they do not approve.

Cornell: Combat training, hand to hand, weapons, anything?

Carrie: I have, sir, quite a bit actually.

Carrie has no uneasiness with the situation, but Abraham is almost in shock.

Abraham: Of course not! I'm here for medical research! I... I why would? I'm a doctor... why would have trained in combat?

Cornell steps back.

Cornell: Come here, take a fighting stance.

Abraham steps back and his mouth drops in horror.

Cornell: Do this right now.

Abraham is visibly frightened. His breathing becomes semi frantic but does what he is told. Looking like a frightened, mini, drunk boxer.

Cornell: Now attack me.

Abraham hesitates.

Cornell: Now!

Abraham steps towards Cornell and swings to punch him. Cornell knocks the fist back with force and backhands Abraham, surprisingly hard, across the face. Abraham's head flies to the left, almost pulling him to ground. It scrunches and his eyes water, his face begins to throb and blood drips from his nose and lip.

Cornell: Do you know where you are? Most of the things you'll be researching are far worse than me, and they hit a lot harder. Attack me again.

Abraham is holding back tears. He looks like he fears for his life. But after a moment, he goes at him again. This time Cornell dashes to the side and places a very hard knee into Abraham's side, there is a faint crack, and Abraham falls to the ground, crying in pain.

Cornell: This is where they kill you. You'll have guards whenever dealing with something dangerous, but if it gets out, you'll want to be able to kick it back, give the guards a chance to kill it, before it kills you. Now... attack me again.

Carrie: I think that's enough.

Carrie interrupts, obviously bothered by what has just happened. Cornell's gaze shoots to her instantly.

Carrie: You've beaten him enough. He gets the point.

Cornell looks down at Abraham, his face flashes with an instant of shame. He pulls the boy to his feet. Abraham looks like he may vomit. He holds his ribs and lightly groans.

Cornell: I hope she's right. You're dismissed for the day.

Abraham shuffles over to the door and exits the room. Carrie doesn't waste time in voicing her disapproval.

Carrie: Was that necessary? Or do you just enjoy it?

Cornell does not acknowledge what she's said.

Cornell: So are you prepared to defend yourself? You claim to have had training.

For a moment Carrie looks as if she might say something, but then she just takes a defensive stance.

Cornell: Attack me.

Carrie wastes no time. She runs at him in two quick strides and punches hard toward his neck. Cornell catches her fist and pulls it down, but Carrie merely shifts slightly and continues forward, bending up her elbow and smashing it into Cornell's face, all her momentum behind it. He tenses at the blow as if he's been slightly electrically shocked because he has.

He quickly jabs hard with his left hand, hitting Carrie in the ribs, where the punch connects flashes blue for an instant. The jab is almost instantly followed by a hard full punch to the head that flashes in the same manner.

A few moments later Carrie wakes on the floor, Cornell is already on the stairs.

Cornell: You're dismissed as well. We'll continue tomorrow.

INT. Ecclesia hall, day

Abraham is walking down an ornate candle-lit hallway. His face is swollen badly now and starting to turn purple, with dried blood around his nostrils and mouth. He walks hunched over, holding his side. He inhales and exhales carefully, wheezing in pain at a hard breath.

As he inches down the hall, a door right in front of him swings open and Ada speeds out. Abraham gasps and cries out in pain. Ada turns and is struck silent and motionless. She stands, mouth open in shock for a moment before grabbing his arm and pulling him in the opposite direction.

Ada: What happened to you?

Abraham grunted again and forced his words out painfully.

Abraham: Training with your father.

The answer almost strikes her. She looks horribly guilt-ridden.

Ada: Come with me.

Abraham winces at the force but follows as she takes his arm.

EXT. Forest of Jigramunt, day

Reinhardt quickly but quietly moves through the forest, the majority of his wounds have healed completely, but he is dirty and wet, and sections of his clothes are tattered. The forest is thick and dark. This section of it is part of what the people call "the Forest of Silence". It's a dangerous place, filled with monsters and spirits. Reinhardt is on high alert.

There is a rustling very nearby and he instantly crouches very low and goes completely silent, scanning the area. There is a high pitched grunty scream, followed by several similar shorter grunts. This is followed by a hawk-like but slightly human shriek.

He creeps along the forest floor at a slightly slow, but silent pace, towards the disturbance. We hear a few more grunts, and the thud of a knife hitting flesh. We hear loud crunch followed by a quick squeal. Finally, Reinhardt comes to view the scene. A harpy, large, upper torso and head completely human, but instead of arms are giant feathery wings, and her legs are giant and hawk-like, with large talons. She is perched high up in a tree with a struggling goblin in her mouth. The goblin is green and dirty, a small lumpy feral man, clothed in tatters with makeshift edged weapons lining a belt looped over its shoulder. It quickly stops moving, and the harpy continues eating it.

Reinhardt moves to the side, as he reaches into his vest. He moves his hand around, searching for a knife. After a moment he pulls his clenched fist out, clenching his teeth in frustration. He quickly scans the ground, glancing back at the harpy periodically. It is quickly chomping into the dead goblin. He reaches into the dirt, grabbing a rock about half the size of a baseball.

Even though the action makes but the slightest sound imaginable, the harpy instantly jerks its head in a distinctly animalistic fashion in the direction of the still obscured Reinhardt. The harpy looks hard in his direction, suddenly leaping to a closer branch.

He's sweating, all but holding his breath, and staring fiercely at the nearby monster. He knows it will hear his movement. Finally, he starts to pull back the rock to hurl it when there is a sudden not too distant cry of one of the monstrous vampires from the mountains. The harpy recoils in terror, dropping the goblin, looking up in the direction of the cry. Seizing the opportunity he hurls the rock with full force, it smashes to pieces just above the harpy's left eye socket and it falls back.

He bursts from the brush at a sprint, pulling his sword in the rush for the kill, just as he slices down into the harpy it cries out a cry that bellows across the air. Reinhardt stands their a moment panting. He gazes down at the partially eaten goblin, an expression of pain and anguish on its face, and then over to the harpy, his brow furrows in confusion. We hear another vampire cry, closer and his gaze shoots back, quickly he begins sprinting again, into the forest.

INT. Ecclesia alchemy lab, day

A small dark lab, the walls are lined with shelves containing books, bottles, vials, boxes, containers, etc containing liquids, potions, powders, and ingredients. Ada is feverishly mashing things in a mortar and pastel, she is dropping powders, herbs, and liquids into it as she works. Abraham is sitting on a stool nearby, applying a strange clear gel to his bruised face.

We come close on his face, his eyes are so sad, red and watered. We hear Dr. Glendon's words from before.

Dr. Glendon: (voice-over)This place is truly evil, we are fighting the apocalypse here, and they won't let any of us quit.

Ada turns to Abraham and hands him a small cup filled with an orange milky liquid.

Ada: Drink this.

Abraham takes the cup and stares down into it. He does not look excited, but Ada is watching him closely, with such concern. He takes the cup to his mouth and gulps down the whole thing. Ada just stares at him, her eyes wide. She shakes her head and fights back tears.

Ada: I'm so sorry.

She exhales sharply.

Ada: I... he... he's never done anything like this before.

Her face scrunches hard trying to hold back her emotion, but she breaks down, and the tears come. Abraham is shocked, he is still in pain and can't think of a thing to say. He just stares in surprise and sorrow.

Ada: I'm sorry. He had a terrible night, he's very stressed, and angry, and sad.

Abraham: It's ok...

Abraham's swelling has already begun to go down. He seems to feel guilty for her sorrow. He reaches out a hand to hers and places it there for a moment before she regains herself.

Ada: You should try to sleep. I have to go.

She places her hand to the injured side of his head again for a moment and quickly leaves. He calls out to her.

Abraham: Ada, wait.

She turns for a moment at the door.

Ada: You should feel much better after some sleep.

Before she can turn again he offers one last consolation.

Abraham: It's ok. I don't blame you, or him. This place is crazy.

She smiles very subtly and leaves. Abraham sits alone in the room.

EXT. Alba village, day

Alba is a village deep within the heavily infested forests around the castle. It is surrounded by a large log wall dotted around the edge on both sides with ruined homes and buildings. Inside the wall, the village fights to survive. It is little more than some homes, an armory, a large farm-like garden in the town center, and a church with a small cemetery behind it. The villagers walk around in varying degrees of malnutrition, disease, and injury, some harvest crops, some tending animals, some brandishing weapons as guards, some watching from atop the wall.

We see a man standing guard on the wall, his clothes are dirty and slightly tattered, he is holding a rifle and scanning the surrounding area. He seems noticeably shaken. He jumps at the distant cry of a vampire, lifting his rifle to the ready. A moment later a stumbling Reinhardt comes shambling out of the brush, the guard instantly aims his weapon at him, almost firing but stopping himself.

Guard: Stop!

Reinhardt stumbles forward a couple more steps then stops, holding up his right arm, he is panting a bit but forces out a shout.

Reinhardt: I'm human!

The guard hesitates a moment, looking carefully at Reinhardt. He turns to a group of others who have gathered after the commotion.

Guard: Open the gate. Send a unit.

EXT. Alba village, day

Reinhardt enters the large wooden gate. There are six guards in battered piece mail armor holding ever more battered weapons of various types. Along with them are two older unarmed men in slightly warn but nice clothes.

Reinhardt's exterior wounds have all healed for the most part by now, but his clothes and armor are still quite in tatters, and wet. Luckily for him, he's also stained with unnatural blood, far darker than normal. One of the unarmed men speaks.

Alba leader: You're a hunter?

Reinhardt: Good guess.

Reinhardt extends his arms eyeing his armor and weapons.

Alba leader: Were you part of the battle at Deborah Cliff?

Reinhardt: I was.

Alba leader: It didn't sound like hunters.

The other older man steps forward. Speaking quickly and loudly.

Alba leader 2: It sounded like an army.

Reinhardt: It was. But I wasn't fighting with them.

The two men seem intrigued, not trusting, but not completely hostile either. A small crowd has begun to gather loosely around.

Alba leader: So what were you doing then during the battle?

Reinhardt stands up straight, putting his arms at his sides.

Reinhardt: Almost killing Mordan.

The people all about gasp, chuckle, go wide-eyed and start murmuring like crazy to one another. The two men interject to their townsfolk.

Alba leader 2: Quiet down, quiet down.

The other continues with Reinhardt.

Alba leader: You expect us to believe that not only did you survive combat with Mordan... but that you came out virtually unscathed and almost killed him?

Reinhardt: Believe what you like.

Reinhardt points to the deep black-red bloodstains on his armor and clothes.

Reinhardt: This is his blood, with a little fishman mixed in maybe.

The expressions of those surrounding him range from humor to shock, to fear. The two leaders look at one another and whisper to each other so no one else can hear. Finally one turns back to Reinhardt.

Alba leader 2: What do you want here?

Reinhardt: Just a place to rest, just for a night.

The two leaders talk quietly to each other once again, the crowd around them is mostly silent. After a few moments, the leader speaks again.

Alba leader 2: I don't know if you really fought Mordan, but it's clear from your gear, and the unnatural blood upon it that you're a hunter, and I can tell by the way you speak that you're a local one. Those two things together are good enough for me. We'll give you a room if you can pay for it, and if you pledge to help fight off any attack while you're here.

Reinhardt reaches down to his belt and pulls off a small cloth sack.

Reinhardt: I've got money right here, and I'll fight so long as I've gotten a little rest.

INT. Ecclesia, Shanoa's quarters, late day

Shanoa is lying in a large elegant queen-sized bed, covered with thick sheets. The room is large with ornate well-crafted furniture that looks new. There are a large closet and full-length mirror close to a large window. Barlowe is holding Shanoa's left hand, sitting at the side of her bed, his eyes are closed and he is speaking just under his breath, murmuring spells, or incantations, or prayers.

We cut to the same scene from an open door, Renon is looking into the room. Cornell walks up behind him. A freshly patched up Coller stands off to the side.

Cornell: Is she still alive?

Cornell blurts out quickly, making almost no effort to mask his anger. Renon does not look pleased with his tone.

Renon: She is still with us.

Renon turns back to the view inside the room.

Renon: Master Barlowe is doing what he can to rebuild the lost and damaged parts of her spirit.

Cornell shakes his head with an expression bordering fury as he whispers the words to himself.

Cornell: Rebuild lost parts of her spirit...

He walks up close behind, staring into the room as well.

Cornell: Is there any way I can help?

Renon: Afraid not. As I told you before we're all just going to have to wait until master Barlowe informs us otherwise.

Cornell's face twists, primarily his mouth, displaying his anger. Then suddenly his lips spring open bearing his surprisingly fang-like teeth in a very canine-like manner. They dd not appear this way before. When he speaks his voice is slightly deeper, but it's barely noticeable.

Cornell: This is ridiculous. I'm going in to talk to him.

Cornell begins to move towards the doorway but Renon very quickly turns around and places himself in the way, his left hand extended up, almost touching Cornell's chest.

Renon: Master Cornell, I am afraid that Master Barlowe has specifically instructed me to let no one enter the room.

Renon speaks sternly. He is not at all intimidated by the larger man. Cornell is surprised, but not at all deterred.

Cornell: Renon I'm sorry but...

Cornell grabs Renon's wrist to try and move him out of the way but is surprised to find Renon resisting rather successfully. Before things can escalate any further Barlowe speaks.

Barlowe: Alright gentlemen.

The two men stop immediately and turn back to Barlowe.

Barlowe: I believe she will be waking at any moment now. Come on in.

The two men say nothing, only enter the room slowly. All three of them watching her, waiting. We wait for just a few moments longer than normal before her eyes open weakly about halfway. She inhales deeply but slowly. She looks around at the three men.

Barlowe: Are you alright, my dear?

She pauses, staring at Barlowe with confusion. She speaks slowly and quietly.

Shanoa: Who are you?

She looks around at the others, and the room, the furniture, window. She again speaks weakly.

Shanoa: Where am I? ...Who am I? I don't remember anything.

INT. Alba inn room, late day

Reinhardt is taking off his armor and weapons and placing them on a table in a small dirty old room with a small bed, a table, a small desk with an old brassed-over mirror, and a small stool. He gets down to his pants, his upper torso is dotted with several healed scars of various sizes. He lies on the bed and closes his eyes, seemingly very ready for sleep. We see him from above as a woman, just out of view except for the rim of the screen, crawls into bed next to him, seeming as if to have come out of thin air.

The expression on his face goes from exhaustion to pain. He doesn't move or open his eyes. The woman speaks. She sounds like she's holding back tears.

Rosa: Hello my love.

As she speaks we see her more completely. She's beautiful, blonde hair, peachy skin, in a short red dress. She embraces him. He still doesn't open his eyes.

Reinhardt: Please, not today.

She sits up, looking down at him. It is clearer now that she is crying.

Rosa: I'm sorry.

She's almost weeping, and Reinhardt opens his eyes to look at her.

Rosa: I don't control it.

He stares up at her, places his hand against her cheek.

Reinhardt: It's ok.

He speaks as if it's painful to release the words. He hardly moves, just lightly stroking her cheek, staring. Rosa looks back down at him, then pulls herself down against him, she's still crying.

Rosa: I've missed you so much.

Reinhardt: I miss you too. More than I can bear, but I'm almost done.

Rosa pulls herself against him, as she starts to calm.

Rosa: (still sniffly) You know... when it's like this... It's me. It's really me.

Reinhardt doesn't say anything for a moment, just closes his eyes hard.

Reinhardt: If it really is you, then you know I can't know that.

She starts to cry harder again, not saying anything for a few moments. Finally, she barely manages to speak, sobbing while she does.

Rosa: Can I still stay here with you awhile?

Reinhardt hugs her against him.

Reinhardt: Of course you can.

The two lie there together as Reinhardt falls asleep.

INT. Ecclesia library, sunset

The sun is mostly gone and it is rather dark outside. Inside the library is dimly lit by oil lamps that dot around, giving decent visibility to almost everywhere. Abraham, no longer bruised and swollen, sits curled up on a small sofa on the second floor just next to a three-stack collection he's gathered of scientific books, journals, and documents, most pertaining to very strange and obscure things. He looks slightly less lost, the scientific world helps him feel himself.

He is flipping through pages in some book when Carrie enters the library.

Carrie: You look better than I expected.

Abraham looks up from the paper he is reading but says nothing.

Carrie: What are you reading?

He chuckles lightly.

Abraham: Well... apparently it's an extremely credible account of an off-course voyage in 1788 landing on an island west of Sumatra with cannibal witches, living dinosaurs, and giant apes.

Carrie: Really?

Carrie smiles sarcastically.

Abraham: And they all live under a mountain shaped like a skull.

Abraham sighs, long and drawn out.

Abraham: A few days ago this would have been a joke to me. But now? After what I've seen how can I question any of this?

He waves his arms out, motioning towards the books around him. Carrie is looking down shelves, at the titles, possibly searching for something in particular, possibly just skimming.

Carrie: It's good to question. But I've found that often people are unwilling to question their own opinions, especially if they've been so long untested.

Abraham looks at her, his face scrunches. As he speaks he almost pleads her.

Abraham: How can this be? How can all of this be real?

Before she can answer they are interrupted.

Hugh: Still don't believe in monsters?

Two large athletic men are walking towards Carrie and Abraham. They are Nathan Graves and Hugh Baldwin, a master vampire hunting team. Nathan has short dark blonde hair, green eyes, and wears a long tan and green coat. Hugh has long dark black hair, brown eyes, and wears a similar but gray coat.

Hugh: That's rare around these parts.

Carrie turns away from the shelves, and Abraham looks over as well.

Hugh: I guess you haven't been here long.

Hugh's tone is not inviting.

Carrie: He hasn't, but I can tell from the way you speak that I've been here a hell of a lot longer than you have. Who are you?

Nathan: Please excuse my brother. We've had a long and difficult week.

Nathan steps forward as he speaks, trying to be polite. He motions to himself.

Nathan: I'm Nathan Graves.

He motions to Hugh.

Nathan: This is Hugh Baldwin.

Carrie: I thought you said you were brothers?

Hugh: (angrily) We are.

Abraham has said nothing, just sitting quietly and awkwardly on the small sofa while Carrie does all the talking.

Carrie: Okay... so what do you do here?

Hugh folds his arms.

Hugh: You could call us professors. But we're far more involved in our field research than giving lessons.

Carrie nods. She's obviously annoyed by Hugh. She actively goes back to scanning the shelves.

Abraham: Are you scientists?

Hugh and Nathan both chuckle, but Nathan's is light-hearted while Hugh's seems ruder.

Nathan: We actually specialize in an area here to fore unacknowledged publicly by mainstream science.

Abraham: What would that be?

Abraham seems genuinely curious. Before Nathan can say anything Hugh answers sharply.

Hugh: Vampires.

Overcome, Abraham cannot help but laugh. Hugh seems a bit surprised, maybe a little disrespected.

Hugh: Don't believe in vampires?

Abraham laughs even more.

Abraham: I do now. Which is even crazier.

He exhales.

Abraham: It's just too much. I've been here for two days, and I've seen werewolves, harpies, witches, plants that bleed, ointments and potions that heal in hours, and now two professors of... what? Vampirology?

Hugh is not overly amused. He responds sharply and sternly.

Hugh: That's a part of it. We're hunters, the best pair of vampire hunters on Earth.

Carrie: Here we go.

Carrie interrupts as she pulls a particularly well-worn book entitled "The Belmonts" from a rack on Wallachian families in the history section. The three men look at her.

Abraham: What were you looking for?

Carrie holds the books closer to her face to look at the cover. It's very old, dusty, and beaten up.

Carrie: Anything about the Belmonts.

Nathan smiles, but Hugh sighs in annoyance.

Hugh: Yes, you are definitely from Wallachia.

Abraham cuts in with more of his genuine curiosity.

Abraham: Who are the Belmonts?

Hugh snaps in before Carrie can answer.

Hugh: An old, long gone, family of over-rated hunters. They're a history lesson.

Carrie tries not to give in to his antagonizing, but her brow scrunches judgmentally.

Carrie: I'm just surprised that an organization supposedly tasked with stopping the dark lord has so little information on or interest in them. They've defeated him at least five times, more by some accounts.

Hugh walks toward her, leans against the bookcase and speaks sarcastically.

Hugh: Did they? Hard to see how you can defeat something six times. I mean, once it's defeated isn't it supposed to be gone? And if it is so thusly defeated, what the hell are we all doing here?

Hugh is prodding hard. Carrie loses a bit of her composure for a moment, staring at the shelf in anger, paused. She turns to Hugh somewhat changing the subject.

Carrie: You said you're hunters? Do you think you're as good as a Belmont?

Hugh: We're here now, fighting this war. So we're better than any Belmonts around today.

Carrie looks away from the book. Her face is serious. She is offended.

Carrie: I'm sure they would be here if they could be.

Hugh chuckles.

Hugh: You think so?

Carrie's attitude is building.

Carrie: We people of Wallachia haven't forgotten everything they've done for us.

Hugh: Hate to be the one to break it to you, but they've either quit or they're all dead. Either way, they're useless to us now.

Carrie places the book down on the mid-shelf, face-up, exhales sharply, and walks away towards the stairs. Just before she gets to them Renon steps out, seemingly appearing from just out of sight. He is holding two envelopes. He stops her.

Renon: Excuse me a moment Miss Fernandez.

He hands her one of the envelopes.

Renon: I regret to inform you that due to unforeseen circumstances your syllabus has been changed quite significantly. This is your new one. It takes effect starting tomorrow.

Carrie takes it without a word and storms down the stairs. Renon continues over to the others and hands the other envelope to Abraham.

Renon: Mr. Van Helsing I regret to inform you that due to unforeseen circumstances your syllabus has been changed quite significantly. This is your new one, it takes effect starting tomorrow.

Renon repeats his words almost robotically. Abraham takes the envelope sheepishly, he seems to feel uneasy around Renon.

Abraham: Thank You.

He opens the envelope and starts to read it's contents.

SUPER CLOSE UP

We see the page, where Abraham reads it, we follow the words,

Abraham: "Per recommendation of our self-defense instructor, Mr. Abraham Van Helsing must undergo eighty hours of intense one on one self-defense training with Master Cornell. These will take place in the form of four-hour sessions from 8 am until 12 pm Monday through Friday."

We come back to see Abraham in the chair reading the letter. He quickly slumps down, his arms falling to his sides, the paper with it. He whispers to himself.

Abraham: What have I fallen into? What am I going to do?

INT. Ecclesia Carrie's quarters, night

Carrie is sitting on her bed, opening the envelope given to her by Renon. She pulls out the syllabus inside and begins reading. After a few moments, she stops, looking away in frustration. She looks back and continues reading. After another moment she starts turning her head, exhaling sharply and quickly, almost laughing with anger. She then tosses the paper aside and grabs a coat.

EXT. Ruvas forest, night

It's dark, but a bright half-moon lights the forest fairly well. Thick old pines and various other trees sit quiet and peacefully, few sounds are heard but the occasional hoot of an owl or howl of a wolf. Carrie is walking down a dirt road with a large coat, holding a small pack.

She is walking for a few moments before we hear a much different howl, lower-pitched, and much closer. She stops instantly, peering into the woods listening intently, another equally eerie but different howl, lower-pitched, echoes the first. Carrie peers hard into the trees in the direction she thinks the howls came from. After a moment she bolts off the path into the forest in the opposite direction.

She is running very quickly through the woods, away from the path. We hear loud crashes and grunts, getting progressively closer. Another howl pierces the air. Carrie comes bolting out of the cluster of trees into a small open area next to a river, she stops and turns, arms out to her sides, hands open.

From out of the trees bursts two werewolves and a warg.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13104670/1/Castlevania-Birth-of-the-Dragon

Dracula was not always a monster. He was once a man named Mathias Cronqvist. A flawed, conflicted, genius of a man. How did the educated, aristocratic, crusader who piously served the church become a vampire, and eventually the Dark Lord himself, the opposing force to God? From a very young age terrors and tragedy shaped the man into the king of all evil. This is his story.

Offline SecretWeapon

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #4 on: March 25, 2020, 09:53:01 AM »
0
i am enjoying this, please do continue. I'd suggest posting it somewhere else like archive of our own for better exposure, if you want.

Online AlexCalvo

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #5 on: March 25, 2020, 03:41:16 PM »
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i am enjoying this, please do continue. I'd suggest posting it somewhere else like archive of our own for better exposure, if you want.

It is there already!  Thanks for the suggestion anyway.  Episode 3 will be posted this week.  I've actually already finished drafts for the first 6 episodes, and half of the the 7th.  Comments like yours keep me working lol.  Feel free to drop reviews on either site, I'll add the archive of our own link to the first post.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13104670/1/Castlevania-Birth-of-the-Dragon

Dracula was not always a monster. He was once a man named Mathias Cronqvist. A flawed, conflicted, genius of a man. How did the educated, aristocratic, crusader who piously served the church become a vampire, and eventually the Dark Lord himself, the opposing force to God? From a very young age terrors and tragedy shaped the man into the king of all evil. This is his story.

Offline X

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #6 on: March 26, 2020, 10:03:49 AM »
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Did I just read this right? Both Hugh Baldwin and Nathan Graves are in this too?
"Spirituality is God's gift to humanity...
Religion is Man's flawed interpretation of Spirituality given back to humanity..."

Online AlexCalvo

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #7 on: March 26, 2020, 07:22:33 PM »
0
Did I just read this right? Both Hugh Baldwin and Nathan Graves are in this too?

Yes sir.  Everyone from the games set in the 1800s.  Episode 3 should be up tomorrow.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13104670/1/Castlevania-Birth-of-the-Dragon

Dracula was not always a monster. He was once a man named Mathias Cronqvist. A flawed, conflicted, genius of a man. How did the educated, aristocratic, crusader who piously served the church become a vampire, and eventually the Dark Lord himself, the opposing force to God? From a very young age terrors and tragedy shaped the man into the king of all evil. This is his story.

Online AlexCalvo

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  • Posts: 505
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  • No longer a jerk, but still wonderful.
  • Awards SuperOld Dungeonite: Members who have been around since the oldOLD days.
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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #8 on: March 27, 2020, 04:19:21 PM »
0
Episode 3 is up.

"Carrie reports her findings to her true superior, master hunter Charles Vincent, then later begins training under Nathan Graves and Hugh Baldwin. Reinhardt chases the vampiric scourge out of Alba Abraham continues his training with Cornell, as well as the medical staff. Shanoa begins learning to use glyphs again with master Barlowe. Albus wanders the streets of Aldora a haggard, hallucinating mess."


EPISODE III: NEW MESSIAH

EXT. Ruvas forest, night

Two werewolves rip their way out of the foliage infested trees, vines and branches sticking and twirling into their fur, ripping out clumps as they give way, as if the forest was trying to restrain them. More can be heard struggling further in. A large warg breaks out just behind them.

Carrie is standing firmly with the river to her back, she has two daggers drawn. As the werewolves charge towards her, the closest plummets as an underground cavern below collapses, opening into a chasm. The second werewolf continues to charge as another two rip their way out of the forest. The warg holds back momentarily.

Carrie quickly hurls the two silver daggers into the second werewolf's throat. One slashes pretty deep, the other stabs and stays in just to the right of the Adam's apple. It falls clawing at the burning blades. Carrie instantly pulls two more. As the two other werewolves get close, and the other with the dagger in its neck still close too, Carrie sparks her daggers together, and the sparks instantly grow into flames, roaring and expanding out to engulf all three of the beasts.

The three werewolves smolder in flame and Carrie hurls the two knives, one into each of the knife-less ones. She then pushes her arms outwards, hands wide open, and the flames burning the werewolf fur roar larger, growing as the original spark had.

Carrie runs toward the closest werewolf, and we see small little white lights dotting her body and spiraling together at her right hand, where they are growing into a larger and larger white electric orb. When it is about the size of a baseball she punches it up into the chest of the werewolf, upon impact it violently spasms, and it's eyes pop into blood spurts, it falls over dead.

Another of the werewolves, burnt to a crisp, with a dagger burning critically down into its chest where it meets the neck, falls over dead as well. The other werewolf succeeds in digging out the knife in its neck, and the last of the burning embers go out. It is horribly scarred and burned but still ready to fight, at the same time the first werewolf crawls its way out of the mounds of stone and dirt it had been buried in, but it seems to have broken some bones.

Carrie stumbles back as the wounded creatures shamble towards her. As they close in she runs back into the river, which recedes down around her allowing her to sprint past. As the werewolves lunge after her the river roars, pounding into them pulling them underneath, and quickly down stream.

Carrie is panting, regaining herself. Her rest is quickly cut short, suddenly the large warg, roughly five and half feet at the top of the shoulders, comes barreling towards her.

Carrie gasps, and her eyes open wide. She looks up and around, trying to find a solution as the beast stomps forward toward her. It quickly picks up its pace as does Carrie running backward. As the warg leaps over the river there is a thunderous cracking. A massive pine tree, at least fifty years old, comes barreling down smashing into the warg, shattering its torso and skull, killing it instantly.

Carrie stops dead in her tracks, having seen the whole thing. She is panting, and more than a little shaken. She walks over to the fallen tree, kneels beside it and caresses her hand against the branches. Her face curls in sorrow. She closes her eyes.

Carrie: Thank you...

After a moment. She gets up and hurries off.

INT. Ecclesia sorcery hall, night

Barlowe followed by Cornell enters into the same large room where the Dominus ritual had been performed the previous night, it is still heavily damaged on one side.

Cornell: Why did you lie to Albus?

Barlowe turns to Cornell, the sternness of Cornell's words is ignored.

Barlowe: He refused the mission under any other circumstances. I had no choice. He was the only one who could retrieve the necessary glyph material.

Cornell's tone increases in sternness, though not yet in anger.

Cornell: You could have reasoned with him. I could have. We could have figured this out with a little more time.

Barlowe: What time do you think we have?

Barlowe cuts in, finally agitated by Cornell's tone.

Barlowe: When was the last time you entered Debious woods? Or as the locals now call it "The Forest of Silence?" It's worse every day, and it's spreading, soon Wygol and Aldora will be as besieged as Alba.

Cornell: Why not let Albus wield Dominus? He's the most powerful demon hunter we have, far more so than Shanoa.

Barlowe shakes his head with exasperation.

Barlowe: This isn't about power. Albus cannot wield this weapon. His body, his spirit are incapable of it, as are ours, and every other human I have ever known of. Only Shanoa can wield it, and only in wielding it can we defeat him.

Cornell continues to protest.

Cornell: Our goal is to stop his return, not to face him. Have we given that up?

Barlowe: We've failed!

Barlowe is finally expresses something like rage.

Barlowe: Did you not hear me? The number of his unholy creatures are as bad as anytime he has risen. This can mean nothing else other than his imminent return. Do you not feel the weight of it in the air? As if it could happen any moment.

Cornell: So this is how you justify risking the lives and souls of children, using them as weapons against our enemy.

Cornell does not react much to Barlowe's outburst, but he remains stern bordering on angry. Barlowe mostly regains his composure.

Barlowe: Yes. For our enemy is The Enemy. The Enemy of all mankind.

Cornell: We raised these children, from a young age, I understand them, like very few in the world can. What you are doing is wrong. That's Shanoa in there.

Cornell points to the doorway.

Cornell: She doesn't even know who she is. You feel no guilt? We've broken her soul.

Barlowe: There will be time for guilt, guilt for many things that have been done, many things that have yet to pass. But it cannot be now. Now please, I must attend to this situation.

Aggravated and unsatisfied Cornell storms out of the room, Barlowe begins nosing through different books he has around.

INT. Alba Inn room, night

At first it's black, we hear a banging at a door. View slowly fades in on Reinhardt's face as he lies sleeping on his side. His eyes open. We hear the banging at the door again. He sits up quickly, Rosa is gone. The banging continues.

Boy: Please open the door!

Reinhardt is quickly on his feet and moving toward the door. The boy bursts into the room immediately as the door opens. He is out of breath and dirty.

Boy: They've come for you!

Reinhardt: What?

Reinhardt's wits are not fully rebooted, and his confusion is obvious. The boy is close to weeping. He is desperate.

Boy: Vampires... the biggest vampires I've ever seen are tearing the town apart, killing people. They say they want you.

Reinhardt curses himself, and quickly runs to the desk where his pouches and pockets sits. He pulls out various powders and herbs, a small metal bowl, and some matches. He throws two different herbs, one a powder, the other a dried leaf, into the bowl, then throws a lit match in with them. He closely inhales the resulting smoke a few times before scrambling to armor and arm himself. The boy stands in silent panic.

After Reinhardt is ready for battle, he reaches back into a pouch and pulls out three bags, one small two larger. He pulls a dull grayish powder out of the small bag and inhales it sharply up his nose. He pauses for a moment, as the powder is ingested. He inhales deeply, and slams his right foot down like a bull, smashing through the floor boards.

He reaches into another pocket and pulls out a strangely shaped blackish blue rock. He turns to the boy.

Reinhardt: What happens to the bodies of the vampires; victims?

The boy, in shock, says nothing.

Reinhardt: Are their bodies still here? Can you get to them?

The boy remains silent. Reinhardt kneels down, places his hands on the boy's shoulders and looks him in the eyes.

Reinhardt: We can do this, but I need your help.

After a moment the boy responds.

Boy: Yes... We don't have the time or space to bury them all.

Reinhardt: Bones? Any bones?

Boy: Um... yes, yes I think at least a few bones.

Reinhardt snaps up in an instant and grabs the two bags, both filled with dried leaves, and the blue rock. He turns back to the boy, and hands him the items, and the remaining matches.

Reinhardt: You need to grind the bones with this rock, mix the resulting powder with these herbs and burn them, in little fires. As many as you can make, as much smoke as possible, take this (Reinhardt hands him the small bowl), make a small fire in here, move it around the town, make as much smoke as you can.

The boy is terrified, tears drip down his face.

Reinhardt: I have to go and save as many of your people as I can. I need your help. Can you do this?

Boy: Yes.

The boy takes the items, and Reinhardt is off in an instant.

EXT. Alba Center, night

In the Alba town center buildings are burning, vampires are swirling around the skies, a dozen at least, and an equal number on the ground, ripping and chomping at terrified villagers, mauling, murdering, and eating them alive.

A group of five or so vampires swarm together on the ground chasing behind a woman on a horse. Reinhardt comes charging in, faster than seemingly humanly possible, but just so. He slams into the pack smashing bones into gravel, sending limbs flying. He quickly draws his sword and slices surviving vampires into pieces. He stomps again, and shouts with adrenaline, among other things, raddled fury.

The vampires swirl into the air, and away from him as two massive, but not Mordan-massive, vampires swoop down, slamming into the ground with a boom. Reinhardt wastes no time, and begins to charge. The closer vampire roars ferociously at him, but does not anticipate the supernatural speed he builds up to.

Reinhardt tackles the beast to the ground with all the strength of a raging bull. As the pair hit the ground Reinhardt slams his glowing white sword into its chest, it passes all the way through, pinning it to the ground.

EXT. Alba alley, night

A dark alley, somewhat covered over. It serves as a makeshift crypt for the over flow of dead. Bodies lie in various states of decay, from fresh and life like, to naught but bone. She boy hesitates at the entrance, afraid to enter this dark place, but we hear the chaos ensuing in the town center and after a moment he sheepishly steps in.

EXT. Alba Center, night

One of the vampire generals lies stabbed and beheaded on the ground as Reinhardt battles two more. He aims his iron cross and fires it's pronged end into one of them, it hits in the abdomen. He connects the cross back to his belt, but as he does the other vampire leaps in the air and with one giant swoop of its wings dive tackles Reinhardt slamming both through a stone wall. Again Reinhardt's talisman lights up, but it would not be enough if he hadn't already been supernaturally enhanced.

Reinhardt grabs the right side of the monsters face and squeezes with iron fingers, ripping deep into the flesh and cracking bones. He yanks to the side and pulls the beast off of him, slamming it into the wall next to them. He reaches for his iron cross, pulls it from the belt, hits a button and the long bottom prong extend into a silver stake. As Reinhardt pulls it down to pierce the creature's heart it stops at the last inch, the chain is taught, Reinhardt looks back, the other vampire is close behind, holding the chain. The chain singes against its flesh. It doesn't care. Its intestines are slurping there way back in.

The vampire rips the cross from Reinhardt's hand.

EXT. Alba alley, night

We see various piles of bones, leaf, herb, and powder just outside the alley, all stacked with decent space, seven or eight in all. The boy takes out the matches and begins tossing them lit into the piles, which erupt quickly. He lights one last smaller fire in the small plate Reinhardt had given him, as instructed he begins heading further into town with it.

EXT. Alba center, night

We see Reinhardt hit the ground and skip a few times like a stone on water. His talisman blinking with each hit. He struggles to his feet, the day of battle has worn him down significantly, and his enhancements won't last much longer. He pulls the stellar sword once more, always a fearsome companion, it shines brighter than usual, and a high pitched but quiet hum emanates from it.

The two massive vampire generals draw their black swords, old dark elf blades left in the mountains millennia ago that the vampire's had found. Reinhardt is again at a sprint, always headstrong into battle. With mighty wing flaps the vampires match his charge. Reinhardt darts to the left and swings his blade up and the vampire meets it with his.

As the two blades hit thunder bellows though all of Wallachia, and lightning flashes above the town of Alba. Reinhardt's talisman flashes again as two warriors arms are hit with recoil. Both are stunned, but the vampire quickly and brutally slams its massive open left palm into Reinhardt's head and latches its fingers around it, ready to decapitate him bare handed.

Reinhardt instantly stabs his last knife as hard as he can into the vampire's arm, between the radius and ulna bones, and immediately pulls up. The vampire's grip goes limp as Reinhardt pulls away. A second vampire general comes in, swinging down hard, Reinhardt swings up to meet him and the thunder crashes yet again. He lunges back over ten feet.

EXT. Alba street, night

The boy is running with the plate, it smokes lightly, he has a small rag between it and his hand. Suddenly we hear a horrifying shriek. Loud, high pitched, raspy, and long. The boy freezes in his steps, and slowly turns his head.

We go to his perspective...

Dozens of floating, semi transparent but hued blue or green, horribly twisted phantoms of the town's and surrounding area's dead. They are all rotted and exaggerated, think the scarier spirits from ghost-busters or the lord of the rings. They are wraiths(vengeful spirits) made of normal ghosts via Reinhardt's spell. They will seek revenge. They are swooping fast, and they zoom over and past the boy. Making various, shrieks, cries, and grunts as they do.

EXT. Alba center, night

All are frozen. The smaller vampires cease their circling and swoop down to hard ground landings. They are all looking and listening very very carefully up at the sky, which has grown dark and foggy. Their attention has completely left Reinhardt. He stands up and sheathes his sword.

Reinhardt: Good job kid.

Suddenly the wraiths come barreling from out of the fog, shrieking and screaming horribly, diving at the vampires, engulfing them. The vampires shriek in their own animalistic way ,in pure terror as they make to flee rapidly, but it is too late. The wraiths have stuck themselves to them and are clawing them to pieces with their bare hands, able to interact with the physical world but not be interacted with, but with few specific personal or magical items.

Even the large vampires flee, but being more powerful and spiritual in nature themselves they are able to knock back and attack the wraiths, though not overly effectively. The vampires are gone in moments, fleeing towards their mountains hold, falling and dying two or three at a time, either way they are out of the town.

Reinhardt stands panting, and searches his vest, he has one last vile of his blue potion. He drinks it.

EXT. Wygol village, night

Wygol village, a small town of Wallachia, possibly the most peaceful in this time of chaos, strangely peaceful, especially given how close it is to the castle, the epicenter of all the recent dark happenings. There is a series of homes and small buildings lining down a central road that ends in the largest building, about three stories, with a fourth in the form of a small bell tower. There are many trees between and behind the buildings, the streets usually have some people walking or standing around talking, a few children playing.

Carrie enters the village and makes her way down the road. It's late so there are no people in the streets.

EXT. Charles's headquarters, night

At the end of the road in Wygol sits the large square building with a small bell tower at the top. This is the headquarters of Charles Vincent. It's an old, simple building, that from the outside looks like it may be some type of warehouse, or long unused town hall.

Carrie walks to the large iron door, takes the knocker in her hand and, boom boom boom. The knock rings loudly, sure to get the attention of anyone inside. After a few moments the door opens slightly. An older boy is standing in the doorway. He's about 14, long brown hair tied back, nice clothes. He's Alejandro (Alejo) Lecarde.

Alejo: Can I help you?

Carrie: I need to speak with Charles.

The boy looks confused for a second, then stares at her awkwardly. He speaks in a tone that seems to indicate he's badly acting.

Alejo: I'm sorry, there's no Charles here.

Carries rolls her eyes, pushes the door open, and walks in. It's a large open main room, though it is mostly empty, save some old furniture and desks strewn around, with some papers, books, and other things randomly placed. The only strange thing is several groups of wires trailing from floor to ceiling.

Alejo: You're not even going to give the password?

Carrie: I don't have time for this nonsense.

Alejo: How do I know you are you?

Carrie reaches out her hand and touched her index finger to Alejo's nose, with a spark he jumps back, clearly shocked.

Alejo: Ahh! OK, just go. But he's not expecting you yet. I doubt he'll be happy.

Carrie walks across the floor and opens a hidden door to expose a small spiral staircase going down.

INT. Charles's secret basement, night

We see a room as large as the one upstairs, the walls are covered with papers scribbled with various languages, and myriad of maps. Again the room is full of desks, but this one with more books and scrolls scattered on top of them. The wires from above come down into several old fashioned, some machines. There is one large door on the north wall. We see Carrie coming down the stairs at the far side.

INT. Charles's office, night

Charles Vincent, an older man in his late 50's sits behind a desk. On the other side sits Anna Irina, a four year old girl, an older man in his 60's, Nikolai Schneider, stands behind her.

Charles is holding and examining a white cat, Tom, who is very calm for a cat being held under it's front legs by a stranger.

We come close up on Tom's face he is looking off to the side and purring slightly. After a moment he lets out a meow that seems to say "enough yet?"

Charles: So what does he do exactly?

He is talking to Anna. She seems nervous, and does not respond. Nikolai places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Nikolai: It's OK.

Anna looks up at Nikolai. She is very shy with new people, like most young children, but she trusts him, and he knows her well. It doesn't take him long to realize she won't be saying much.

Nikolai: The bogey comes pretty regularly, usually from the closet, but it never makes it past the foot of her bed. Tom keeps it back.

He motions to the cat. Charles stands up, slowly, walks around his desk, looking into Tom's face the whole time, before placing him into Anna's lap. She immediately hugs and strokes the cat.

Charles: How does he manage to do that? I've seen a bogey eat a St. Bernard.

Anna: He hisses a lot.

Anna finally unexpectedly breaks her silence.

Anna: And he howls, really loud, like when he sees a cat he doesn't know.

Charles leans on his desk and strokes his chin. He looks at Nikolai.

Charles: Are you sure this is correct?

Nikolai sighs, shakes his head confusedly.

Nikolai: She's definitely marked by a bogey. I've more than confirmed that. I... I don't know how it hasn't gotten her yet.

Charles: Well... I've read about things like this, dating back to ancient Sumeria, but I've never seen it confirmed.

Suddenly the door opens, and Carrie enters. Charles looks up at her. He does not look very pleased.

Charles: I'm sorry Nikolai, we'll have to continue this tomorrow. I'll send Alejo to keep vigil around the home tonight.

He turns to Anna.

Charles: Keep Tom close. But don't worry, you won't be alone again until this is handled.

The men shake hands and Nikolai leaves with the girl and the cat.

Charles sits back down, and Carrie sits in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. He jots some notes into a notebook while Carrie sits quietly waiting. It seems almost like Charles makes her wait just to show his displeasure. Eventually he closes the notebook and tosses it onto his desk. He looks up at the waiting Carrie.

Charles: So... What brings you here so ahead of schedule?

Carrie sighs, she seems nervous, but also a touch annoyed. She tosses her new syllabus to Charles, and speaks as he opens it and begins reading.

Carrie: I've been repositioned. Something crazy happened last night. There was some kind of explosion, almost certainly a battle. Whatever it was has completely changed my schedule. I don't know if I'll be having any face time at all with this Barlowe fellow at all.

Charles: Hmm...

Charles continues reading.

Charles: That is unfortunate... But,

Charles puts the paper down.

Charles: Even now you're still the best chance I've got at gathering intel on him. And it's too late to pull you out. And working with these two vampire hunters... that's quite an opportunity.

Carrie twists in her chair in discomfort, she is visibly agitated.

Carrie: I met those two clowns. They're disrespectful big-headed morons. What kind of opportunity is that?

Charles: They might be rough around the edges, but I knew their father. He was a colleague, a friend, one of the best vampire hunters I've ever known. I even knew them, as very young boys.

Carrie is not pleased, but she is well trained and knows her place.

Carrie: How is your own work going? There seems to be more strange contraptions around than I'm used to.

She speaks with the slightest touch of mockery. He pats a big boxy telegraph machine to his right.

Charles: Yes, marvelous devices. The telegraph here keeps me in contact with agents all across Europe and even beyond. I receive hourly updates on the stars, weather patterns, behavior of various types at special locations, any and everything that might give us a heads up.

Charles smiles at her.

Charles: I give it less than a century before technology is a greater aid in our fight than any form of magic or occultism.

Carrie smiles at the obvious playful attempt at antagonism.

Carrie: Any updates from other agents in the field?

Charles gives a sterner and slighter smile.

Charles: You know I can't give you that information. You shouldn't stay here much longer. You need to avoid all suspicion.

Carrie's face becomes very serious.

Carrie: And Roberta?

Charles: I'm sorry. Not even her.

Carrie seems angered at the response.

Carrie: Charles, please. You've put her in such danger.

Charles snaps back quickly, all semblance of a smile sapped from his face.

Charles: And I regret informing you of even that. I'll say no more on the matter, you need to return to Ecclesia immediately.

Charles has ended the conversation and there is no more questioning. Carrie stands and leaves as he begins pouring over notes, books, and the constant stream or reports filing in from various telegraphs.

EXT. Ecclesia 17 years ago, day

We see a small black haired girl of about 4 or 5, the whole scene is slightly obscured by strange shiny mistiness. The girl looks lost, like she is looking for something. She places her open hand to her brow and squints her eyes.

We shift to her perspective. We begin to make out the obscured silhouette of a young boy of about 6 or 7. But before we get a clear look.

INT. Shanoa's quarters, night

Shanoa opens her eyes, she is lying in her bed, a candle burns on the nightstand to her right. She looks up to the doors across the room. She sits motionless for a few moments. She still remembers nothing. She lifts her left arm and stares at the strange tribal like tattoos marking her triceps, runs her fingers across them.

INT. Lower sorcery tower, day

We flash back to earlier in the day. A seemingly lost Shanoa stands staring at herself in the mirror in her quarters. Barlowe stands across across the room. He is holding a very old book. He opens it and shows the strange symbols to Shanoa.

Barlowe: You see, these symbols work in the same way as the ones on you arms and back. They are able to contain spiritual and demonic energy. But these... these have been wiped clean, they are not but ink now.

Shanoa takes the book and flips through the pages.

Barlowe: Dark energies can be contained in very special and little known ancient symbols. When the correct symbol is charged with the correct energy, or even entity, it can be contained within.

Shanoa looks intently at the weird symbols on the pages, there are dozens of them at least.

Shanoa: There are so many, how could the ones on my body contain the same amount as these books?

Barlowe: You don't remember, but you're quite a special, unique girl. You see several people are born with the ability to harness this energy.

Shanoa looks up from the book and listens intently.

Barlowe: Even rarer among both of these practices are those able to infuse the magic symbols into their own bodies, at great physical and spiritual cost. Barely able to contain even one percent of what was contained in that tome. But you... For some unknown reason you are able to wield seemingly unlimited dark power.

The news does not seem to make Shanoa particularly happy, she looks afraid.

Shanoa: Does... does that mean I'm evil?

Barlowe looks at Shanoa caringly and contemplatively.

Barlowe: Well, we do walk a fine line here. But I truly believe that it is not the source of power that defines it, but its use. As I explained to you. We are on the brink of Armageddon, and are the only ones holding back the storm. Our options are more than limited.

He puts a caring hand onto her shoulder.

Barlowe: You're body, you're soul, they're able to tolerate glyph symbols impossible for any other known person on Earth. These symbols are able to absorb and contain an unlimited amount of others.

INT. Shanoa's quarters, night

We here the loud clack of the doorknob, and slowly the door, which had never left her line of sight starts to open, light flooding in from the hall as it does. Standing in the doorway is the shadowed figure of a young girl, roughly the same age as the girl from the dream.

The girl drowsily stumbles over to the bed, and without a word climbs in, snuggles up next to Shanoa, and goes to sleep. Shanoa's eyes widen, but she says nothing, just looks down at the sleeping child next to her. We should get the impression that in her normal life, this is a very common occurrence.

INT. Cornell's training room, morning

Abraham is standing where he had the previous day, alone this time, barely containing his terror. After just a few moments Cornell again comes walking down the spiral staircase. Abraham recoils slightly at his appearance.

Cornell: You look much better than I expected.

Abraham says nothing. He looks as if he wants to, but can find nothing. Cornell reaches the floor and walks towards him.

Cornell: What did you learn from our little exercise yesterday? Or since?

Abraham is frozen.

Cornell: Speak, boy.

Abraham finally manages to collect his thoughts.

Abraham: You, you wanted to show me the necessity of being able to defend myself. And if the things I've read in the library are true, I ought to welcome your desire to teach me.

For the first time, Cornell smiles.

Cornell: Perhaps you are not completely hopeless. But is that a hint of doubt I still hear? Can you still doubt the horrors to be found within Wallachia?

Abraham: It does have yet to sink in completely.

Cornell is now standing directly in front of Abraham, arms folded.

Cornell: I take it your sheltered university life saw very little in the way of horror.

Abraham becomes a bit more stern.

Abraham: I have seen horrors, sir. They don't all have teeth and claws.

Cornell nods, with a knowing, respecting expression on his face.

Cornell: Let's begin.

INT. Ecclesia study room, morning

Carrie sits at a small table in what resembles a classroom. She is waiting, arms folded patiently on the table. When Nathan and Hugh enter the room she does not seem overly excited.

Hugh smiles tauntingly.

Hugh: Good morning Miss Fernandez. Sleep well?

Carrie: Very, how about you?

Carrie won't let him bother her. Hugh likes that. Nathan picks up before Hugh can answer. He's holding a small folder.

Nathan: We're very interested in how you may be able to support our efforts in the area. Your specific skill set seems like it would be very useful in combating the undead. You're referred to here as a "Holistic Witch."

Carrie sighs an almost grunt. She had dealt with this characterization before.

Carrie: My people vastly prefer the term Druid. Witch has certain connotations.

Hugh chuckles.

Hugh: We're not going to burn you at the stake, sweetheart.

Hugh continues to prod, but again Nathan quickly diffuses the situation by ignoring it and pushing forward.

Nathan: Alright then, your powers as a Druid could prove extremely helpful to our field work in the area. Fire, running water, plant life and earth... all things you hold sway over, and all useful in one way or another. Electricity isn't so bad either.

Carrie: Field work? I thought I was here for training.

Hugh smiles again before cutting in, the antagonistic tone fading slightly.

Hugh: I can't think of a better way to train you for vampire hunts than taking you along on a few with us.

Nathan shoots a stern look at Hugh before cutting in once again.

Nathan: Well, Cornell has signed off that you are physically ready for fieldwork. We will gauge your ability and knowledge, ensuring that they are at the appropriate level before we proceed to an actual hunt.

Carrie nods. She is respectful and notices how Nathan works to counter his brother's crassness and antagonizing..

Nathan: What, if anything, do you already know about vampires?

Carrie thinks for a brief moment, then speaks carefully.

Carrie: Well, I know there are several subspecies, with different weaknesses, feeding methods, powers. In general they have vastly enhanced strength, reflexes, durability... Some have magical prowess. Most can't stand sunlight. How exactly would my abilities help, beyond the obvious?

Hugh: Well... the big one is fire. Virtually all of the subspecies are extremely averse to fire.

Nathan: Crossing running water is extremely difficult for them to, the stronger the current the better. Another very common weakness known to few outside our community is the inability to break bonds made of still-living plant life.

Hugh: And if you can change composition of soil, you could in theory render foreign vampires unable to sleep during the day, weakening them significantly, possibly killing them.

Carrie smiles, leans back, puts her feet up on the chair. Her gaze falls right onto Hugh, she finally seems pleased.

Carrie: It sounds like you guys really could use my help.

INT. Ecclesia hall, noon

Abraham exits into the hallway from Cornell's training room. He looks more than a little roughed over, but nothing compared to the previous day. Ada is waiting close by the door. She is surprised at his departure, a little embarrassed. She was clearly waiting for him.

Ada: Oh... Hi. I just wanted to make sure...

Abraham smiles and laughs a little.

Abraham: Don't worry, I'm fine. He didn't seem so angry today.

His smile grows.

Ada: That's good, glad you're ok.

Ada still seems embarrassed, and somewhat guilt ridden. She turns to walk away. Abraham reaches out.

Abraham: Wait, where are you going?

Ada turns back.

Ada: Nowhere in particular.

Abraham: You should come with me to the labs. I'm heading up after I clean up a little.

Ada smiles and laughs.

Ada: I doubt Dr. Calagari would approve, maybe another time.

She continues off, Abraham sands alone. His expression shifts slightly to disappointment.

INT. Ecclesia bio labs, day

Abraham is walking up the stairs. He is freshly showered and well dressed, with a slight kick in his step. Maybe it's a limp from training, or maybe it's excitement to be getting back to familiar work.

He enters the bio labs to utter chaos he was not expecting. It is a scene somehow both familiar and horrifyingly unknown.

Dr. Glendon and Dr. Jekyll are fighting to hold down a violently struggling warg pup. It's a wolf pup ruffly the size of a full grown husky. Abraham is taken aback and freezes.

Dr. Glendon: Dammit Abraham! You're late! Get over here and help us!

Abraham surprisingly jumps instantly to action. He lunges onto the animal with both arms, straining to help the other men restrain it.

Abraham: Shouldn't we sedate it?

Dr. Jekyll: We did, it wore off after less than a minute.

Dr. Jekyll backs away. Abraham and Dr. Glendon brace harder to compensate. Dr. Jekyll moves very quickly, securing a large syringe filled with a dark amber colored chemical.

Abraham: What is this thing?

Dr. Glendon: A warg.

Abraham: I knew it.

Dr. Jekyll quickly slams the needle into the just restrained beast, in the neck, immediately pumps the substance in and pulls out the needle, places it down and helps restrain the animal once again.

Dr. Glendon: Alright. Everyone brace for it and quickly let go, move away steadily but not slowly.

The two older scientists release, but Abraham is frozen, Dr. Glendon grabs and yanks him back quickly. The warg pup is howling and growling wildly. It's a strange sound, like a normal puppy only much lower pitched. It sits scrunched in an aggressive position, ready to lunge. The older doctors grab primitive electric cattle prod like instruments. Dr. Glendon puts up his free hard toward Abraham.

Dr. Glendon: Don't move too suddenly.

The two doctors hold out the prods, but keep them a good few feet from the warg. As the creature snaps at either one they move the prods closer and spark them, though never making contact.

Abraham: Sir. may I ask, what have we just done to it?

His eyes don't leave the pup, Dr. Glendon just holds his spare hand up again in a "wait" motion. After just a few more moments the pup becomes drowsy, swaying a bit. Another short moment and it is out cold. Abraham is quick to question again.

Abraham: What did we do to it?

Dr. Jekyll: We've started an experimental treatment.

Abraham: What kind of treatment?

Dr. Glendon: We're attempting to turn this warg into a normal wolf. We've used several extracts from our exotic flora, with some other ingredients. We're trying to shrink it a bit,concentrate the diabolical qualities into a single cluster, and then break it down until it's gone.

Abraham stares blankly, but his expression shifts to something like epiphany. He is seeing work in practice, and he is obviously being swayed by it.

INT. Ecclesia sorcery tower, day

Barlowe is walking across the top floor of the sorcery tower. Where the ritual had been performed just two nights ago. Shanoa is following not far behind. They reach the podiums where Shanoa had stood. They have not been stood back up. One is broken in half. The wall is still damaged, but partially repaired. The floor shows burns, several large and burned out bullet holes here and there.

Barlowe: As you can see the repairs are ongoing. This is where you were attacked. You remember none of it?

Shanoa shook her head, with a look similar to regret on her face.

Shanoa: No, I'm sorry, but I don't.

Barlowe rubs his chin and shakes his head.

Barlowe: Perhaps it is for the best.

Shanoa: You've told me so much. I'm not sure I'm ready to understand it all, much less do what you ask of me.

Barlowe walks up to a damaged book shelf and grabs a very old book. He walks over to Shanoa and puts a hand on her shoulder.

Barlowe: Just do me this favor.

Barlowe opens the books to a page with strange ancients symbols.

Barlowe: This book contains the essence of some of the most ancient and powerful spiritual beings that yet remain. I want you to look at these pages, read them, you'll be able to, even if they seem strange at first. Read them and focus very hard on the words.

Shanoa steps back and starts shaking her head.

Shanoa: I'm sorry, but I-

Barlowe: Please, just try.

Barlowe motions the book toward her and smiles. Shanoa pauses for a moment before reaching out and taking the book. She looks over the pages, and for the first few moments looks very confused, but then her eyes focus, and she seems surprised. She begins to mouth words that wouldn't mean anything to most people. As she reads the letters on the pages begin to warp and contort in a just noticeable fashion. She hesitates.

Barlowe: Please continue.

Barlowe smiles comfortingly. Shanoa continues reading. And the letters again warp, seemingly trying to pull off the page after a while. She continues and as the distortion increases the letters begin to light up a dull rusty red. Shanoa surprisingly keeps reading, and as the light becomes more intense suddenly there is an explosion of the same auburn red. It lasts just an instant and engulfs the room. For a moment the tribal like tattoo on her right shoulder lights up the same. Shanoa freezes, lost in thought.

Barlowe: You can feel it can't you? Focus on it, concentrate on it.

Shanoa stumbles a bit before gasping loudly, and as she does an old beaten and ruined broad sword appears extending out from her hand, floating, the bottom of its handle sitting tightly less than an inch from the tip of her middle finger. She holds it up to her face, examining the blade carefully.

Barlowe takes the book and places it back on the case. He takes another, opens it, and begins to read. After a moment in a flash of blue lighting, a skeleton materials in the room. Without a thought Shanoa attacks, slicing diagonally into the bones, shattering them to pieces on the floor.

Barlowe: You haven't lost any of your skill. You're the new messiah, Shanoa. Without you we're all lost.

Shanoa looks confused, like she doesn't know what to do. Barlowe is beaming.

INT. Cronqvist Mansion, night, late 11th century

We see through the eyes of an unknown person, at the eye level of about an eight year old child. It is dark, and ethereally hazy. He is walking down a long dark hallway, the walls and ceiling are made of stone like an old castle. The person comes up to a large iron door, and stares through a small gap where it has warped.

As we see inside, we hear muffled voices. There are six or seven robed men standing around a strange, stone idol, indistinguishable in the haze, sitting high atop a burning fire built around it, about six inches above the flames. After a few moments the men begin to chant together and cast strange things into the fire.

The boy eventually pulls a way from the gap, and leans back against the wall. We can hear the chanting get louder and louder but understand basically nothing because of its muffled quality.

We pass a long blink signifying the boys falling asleep and waking back up. We hear a man screaming as the boy wakes, other men shouting their chants at high volume. The floor and walls are now covered in strange murky sea like water. Small patches of algae and strange sea plants crop up in a few spots. All the candles in the hall way are significantly dimmer than when the boy had fallen asleep.

We hear loud thunder outside, and loud thunder like booms coming from within the other room. The boy jumps to his feet and backs away from the wall, staring at the gap from a few feet away, not daring to actually look through it. A loud inhuman moaning comes from within the room and the boy is off. He is running as fast as he can down the hall.

INT. Cronqvist mansion main hall, Night, late 11th century

The boy, still sprinting, crashes into the wooden banister railing overlooking the entryway. He freezes, not breathing, not blinking, just staring back at the door, now a good ten or eleven yards away. The chanting has not dropped in volume even though he has moved far from the door.

After an extended moment there is a booming inhuman screeching moan bursting from the room, shaking the house and everything in it. The boy breaks from the banister and bolts in a flash down the stairs and out the front door.

EXT. forest, night, late 11th century

The boy is sprinting as hard as he can and doesn't stop until he reaches a massive rock about thirty yards from the house. Terrifyingly the chanting has lost very little of its volume, even so far from the house. A strange booming voice speaks in an ancient unknown language, seemingly booming down from the dark sky. The chanting inside the house becomes more of a shout. We can hear the panting breath of the boy.

The speaking from the sky ceases and the horrible roar screech comes again, much louder and more furious than before, the chanting stops. There is a massive boom that shakes the ground and trees all around, men screaming then going silent. The boy hides behind the stone, silence. The roar booms again and the house literally explodes as something within smashes it into pieces.

INT. Aldora Inn, room 6, day

Albus opens his eyes. He's lying on a small shabby bed in an even shabbier tiny inn. He is fully dressed and looks bad, sweaty, hair matted, rings around his eyes. He sits up in the bed, rubs his hand against his forehead and eyes, breathing heavily.

Suddenly there is a firm knocking at the door. Albus turns, looking to the door, his eyes are blood shot and unfocused. He rises, and the knocking comes again. Albus stumbles slowly to the door as the knocking continues. He opens the door and there is an angry older man standing there.

Inn Keeper: You only paid for two nights! It's almost dark. Out now! Or pay for another day!

The man pokes and prods as he speaks very angrily. Albus says nothing, but looks none to happy at the provocation. He steps back into the room towards the bed and the man quickly follows him in.

Inn Keeper: Hey! Can you hear? I need the money right now, or you gotta get the hell out of here!

Albus turns back quickly with fire in his eyes. He grabs the man and throws him to the floor, grabs his gun from a small table and begins bashing the innkeeper's skull in, with a ferocious intensity.

EXT. Aldora street, day

We see a dirty urban slum of gray and stained black stone streets and walls. Chickens, dogs, pigs and rats scampering here and there as well as the poorer dirtier and lower class people of Aldora. They stomp around about their different businesses. Albus stumbles out into the street. He is very not well. We see from his perspective and things are hazy and out of focus, like a bad psychedelic trip.

Several dogs bark at him angrily. Broken men look up at him from the ground, mumbling for change. The less repugnant scurry by without looking at him. He walks up to a group of working street women, of varying age and attractiveness. As he walks by the first one we here the muffled hazy speech, followed by several calls from her colleagues.

Lady 1: Sorry pal. No time now, maybe later.

Lady 2: I've been waiting for a good looking guy like you.

One of them comes up and takes hold of Albus's shirt and pulls him close.

Lady 3: I want to get to know you better.

As she speaks her face contorts into a horrible demonic image, her eyes blacked out and her mouth drooping and spreading open in equal horrible blackness, Her words become a horrific shriek.

Albus throws her to the ground and pulls out his side arm, a long barreled pistol with arcane dark runes carved in.

As he stairs at her she flashes back and forth from the normal screaming woman, and a horrible roaring deformity.

He stares her down hard, panting heavily, and after a few moments breaks away as fast as he can down the dirty street.

We see Albus from afar, running into view as he comes down the busy street. He slowly comes down until he is at a slow trot. He pauses at an open door to his rights and looks above it at the simple black stone cross etched in. He enters.

INT. Aldora church, day

An old church with scattered candelabras here and there giving dim light. The prayer hall is relatively small that leads out from the main entry way, also a stone stair case leads up to a smaller 2nd level with two doors. There is a priest standing in the 2nd level hall. He wears a long dark robe. He is staring at Albus as he walks in. Besides the two men the church is empty. The priest looks concerned, but not afraid.

Priest: Are you alright son? Why don't you stay and rest while?

Albus lifts his pistol.

Albus: I need all the books you've got on demonic possession. Right now.

The priest stands motionless and silent. Albus fires his pistol at a pillar, a bolt of lightning flashing from the barrel to the struck pillar as the section hit explodes into dust. A rune on the barrel glows a dull blue and fades.

Albus: I know you've got some, every priest in Wallachia does. Bring them to me now.

The priest jumps at the shot, startled he pauses a moment before trembling and walking to one of the doors and opening it.

INT. Aldora church, day

Albus it sitting at a table in a different room of the church. On the table are spread 3 or 4 old books and a few older scrolls. Albus has one of the books opened in front of him, he is scanning and turning pages.

The priest walks in holding two more large old books and a scroll. He is straining under their weight. he drops them down onto the table. Albus points his pistol to a small bench in the corner.

Albus: Now go sit their until I tell you.

The priest does as he's told. Albus looks at the new articles. One of the books is entitled, "Weakening the Dark One's Hold." Albus opens it up on top of the larger open book in front of him, scans the contents and flips to a little less than halfway through the book. The priest interrupts.

Priest: You seem to be in great turmoil. I'm sure I could help you.

Albus looks up angrily, points his weapon at the priest and shouts.

Albus: Silent!

We see over his shoulder the title of the chapter he has opened to, "Beings too powerful for normal Exorcism" he turns a couple more pages and we see crude drawings of ancient demons and artifacts they seem to be shying or cowering from.

We sit on the page long enough to read the small text visible.

"As idols to the archangel Michael have proven incredibly useful in dispelling Satan, so to will the idols or remains of anyone who has defeated a demon before be a great help to holding it at bay."

Albus closes the book and stands up, holding it in his left hand and his pistol in his right. He looks back to the priest.

Albus: I'm sorry this went so roughly. You've been very helpful. Don't leave this room until morning.

INT. Ecclesia bio labs, day

Abraham is walking down a long table against the wall with long shelves running its length above it. They are all lined with bowls, bottles, bags etc... of specimens of many unknown types, with only a few familiar here and there. They contain strange powders, plant and animal clippings, body parts and fur, bones, potions, books in several languages. On the other side of the room are banged up cages of various sizes, most empty, a few holding strange looking and very large insects, some with strange eggs, a mammalian bat like creature, some strange reptiles. Dr. Jekyll is walking, leading the drowsy and calm warg pup into the largest, strongest cage in the room.

Dr. Glendon walks with Abraham.

Abraham: What is all this stuff?

Dr. Glendon: These are some of the things we use in our treatments. This is the main focus of our work here.

Abraham: And what exactly is our work here?

Dr. Jekyll finishes locking up the warg pup. Dr. Glendon continues walking with Abraham.

Dr. Glendon: For thousands of years these horrible things have attacked,and infected people all over the world. Hunters, which are very few and far between, have been the only thing really doing anything about it. But they die off quickly.

Dr. Glendon reaches to a shelf and grabs a purplish cracked crystal.

Dr. Glendon: People had to search for years, risking their lives, scouring the world to find rare and strange ways to eliminate evil, and ailments harming them and their loved ones.

Abraham: We're making it easier.

Abraham cuts in. Dr. Glendon turns to him.

Dr. Glendon: Care to elaborate?

Abraham: We're approaching it as scientists. We're experimenting, documenting, collecting, duplicating... We're going to make hunting evil easy enough for anyone to do it.

Dr. Glendon: You just grab the right supplies and follow instructions.

Abraham stares at the shelves and their contents, slightly awed. Dr. Glendon stands next to him and puts an arm on his shoulder.

Dr. Glendon: You're a smart kid.

Abraham: How far along are we?

Dr. Glendon: We've built a considerable catalog, both in writing and less substantially in stock here. We are trying to find new mixtures, but the supplies are so low. Our primary goal is to discover how to cure the afflicted. But if it were just a hunt... take one of our books and enough supplies and a simple doctor could take on just about anything out there.

Abraham turns with a questioning look.

Abraham: Curing the afflicted?

Dr. Glendon: Many of these creatures were once people, humans. If the ancient writings on the subject are to be believed, they've been cured before, with artifacts, elixirs, and what have you. We're trying to reproduce their affects on the large scale, or at last offer treatments or alternatives.

Abraham: Like the Greek vampire colony. They couldn't find a cure so they found a peaceful solution.

Dr. Glendon: Exactly, like I said, you're a smart kid.

The two shared a respectful look, then turned back to the various strange subjects of their work.

INT. Ecclesia sorcery tower, day

Barlowe is standing off to the side while Shanoa pours through volumes of books, absorbing things here and there. Barlowe is smiling wide. Shanoa is completely enveloped in her rediscovered world.

Barlowe: What you have just done in a few hours would prove completely impossible to anyone else in the world. Even others we've found with similar abilities can barely withstand more than two or three a day.

Shanoa scans to the end of the book she is holding. Stares at it for a moment, then tilts her head as another thought enters her mind. She looks up suddenly at Barlowe.

Shanoa: Sir Barlowe, who is the little girl here in the compound?

Barlowe starts walking in her direction. He smiles slightly, then his face shifts into more seriousness.

Barlowe: Ah, I guess she's visited you. She always has, since she came here years ago. She could barely speak.

Shanoa: Years ago? But even now she's so young. Is she another pupil?

Barlowe sighs.

Barlowe: Yes.

Shenoa recoils a bit.

Shanoa: You recruited an infant?

Barlowe frowns just a bit, but then stands all the straighter.

Barlowe: I did, more than once. You came to me at near the same age. Under very similar circumstances. I've taken in several lost children.

Shanoa still seems doubtful.

Shanoa: Lost children?

Barlowe walks closer in a semi circle towards her.

Barlowe: Alone, different, abandoned willingly or not. Children who've lost anyone who ever cared for them, who are touched by evil. I am uniquely in a position to help them.

Shanoa remains silent. She stares at Barlowe with confusion.

Barlowe: This troubled boy I told you about, Albus. The one who nearly killed us both. When I found him, his body was the home of at least twenty six demons, straight from the pit of hell. Something about him made him much more comfortable for them, much easier to reach and hold onto. They were fighting over him. His father had fled long ago and his mother sat on the brink of madness and death. Can you imagine the toll of all of this on a six year old boy? I came to him, cast the demons out and took him in, trained him to control and use his uniqueness for good...

Barlowe is getting excited as he speaks, raising a fist to his chest. But at the end he falls a bit, in posture and spirit. He sighs again, but heavier this time.

Barlowe: But I suppose I was unable to do enough... I can't blame him, after everything he's been through. He was just too corrupted.

Barlowe pauses in silence, looking deep in thought.

Barlowe: Drolta was alone. Sitting amongst the trash. No one in her village willing to go near her because when she was just two years old she began animating her own toys. If I'd not taken her she'd have died years ago.

Barlowe looks up at Shanoa, sorrow in his eyes, he moves toward her.

Barlowe: I know it's very hard to understand this, given your current predicament. But all of you here are my children. I love you as dearly as any father and I would do anything for you. We are a family here Shanoa, and we need you now just as much as the rest of the world does. As much as little Drolta does when wake from a nightmare in the middle of the night.

Barlowe stops a few feet from Shanoa, and looks at her pleadingly for a bit longer than a moment. She sighs.

Shanoa: I'll do it.

Barlowe smiles like a proud grandfather, ear to ear white. He chuckles a bit.

Shanoa: But first, tell me about this glyph that Albus stole from us. Why is it so important?

Barlowe stiffens a bit, his expression losing some of its exuberance.

Barlowe: Dominus... The ultimate glyph. Pieced together from hundreds of others into a perfect, unstoppable weapon. It took three immense tomes just to contain it. I am fully confident that with it we can complete our goal.

Shanoa: But if Albus has it...

Barlowe: He cannot wield it. No one can, other than you. I'm sure that our Albus, who you must remember is one of our own, regardless of what has come to pass, is in great pain, and even greater peril. Dominus will destroy him if we don't retrieve it soon.

Shanoa pauses pensively for just a moment.

Shanoa: So what exactly is my mission?

Barlowe's face grows very stern, he does not mince his words.

Barlowe: For now? To find Albus and retrieve Dominus. And if unavoidable...

Shanoa: Kill him...

Barlowe looks almost angry at the suggestion, but agrees.

Barlowe: Yes.

The two stand quietly for a moment.

Shanoa: So when do I begin?

Barlowe: Before you go after him, I have to be sure you are still the warrior you were before the accident. I have a mission for you.

Shanoa: What is it.

Barlowe: Tomorrow you are going to Kalidus cove, to kill the demon Rusalka and steal its power.

She looks afraid for just a moment. Her expression shifts into a fierce determination. She nods.

EXT. Legacy cemetery, dusk

An old, seemingly abandoned, yet beautiful cemetery nestled in pristine forest with high golden mountains visible in the distance at all sides. The sun is just visible in the far west beyond the mountains. It is a rare glimpse in the still cloud-covered Wallachia. The head stones are old and worn, some broken, some missing. The grass is high, and weeds and vines crisscross amongst the majority of the land. A small brown wooden fence still stands around the border, and at the far eastern side sits a rather large stone mausoleum. Strangely, it's gate is open.

After panning over the cemetery and zooming into the opened door, Albus steps out from within the mausoleum. He seems refreshed, in much better health and spirits than last we saw him. We get a look at him from behind as he slowly steps out and into the cemetery. He stops and takes a deep breath. Extends both arms forward, palms up, fingers scrunched. He slowly pulls his arms in towards his sides, bending at the elbow. The ground begins to rumble and shake slightly, increasing every second.

CUT TO BLACK
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13104670/1/Castlevania-Birth-of-the-Dragon

Dracula was not always a monster. He was once a man named Mathias Cronqvist. A flawed, conflicted, genius of a man. How did the educated, aristocratic, crusader who piously served the church become a vampire, and eventually the Dark Lord himself, the opposing force to God? From a very young age terrors and tragedy shaped the man into the king of all evil. This is his story.

Offline SecretWeapon

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Re: Castlevania: The Live Action Series. (screenplay)
« Reply #9 on: March 28, 2020, 12:47:29 PM »
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Oh Camilla Fernandez is now Roberta.

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