The camera faces the entrance, which is being forced open. It crashes and a lot of dust is blowing up into the air. The helmets of - three construction workers appear, dirty faces, coughing. The dust dies down, the workers look around: there are lots of big white candles, a silver candelabrum, coffins. It seems to be just a burial chamber, but the atmosphere shows that there is much more about it than plain eyes can see.
O look - Count Dracula's holiday flat!
He holds up a roll of papersheets, a red ribbon wrapped around it.
The architect - let us call him Frank Pirner - , an insignificant looking man around 40 years, wearing a trench coat like Humphrey Bogart and a helmet, has entered the tomb after the workers. Now he steps to the man with the roll in the hand, takes it to have a close look at it.
Where did you get this from?
He takes away the ribbon, opens the roll, while he is murmuring silently.
... tisn't so old at all... dated on December 1882 ... but this tomb must be at least 500 years old...
hm... but - that's...
He looks at the workers, then goes to leave the vault ahead. The workers follow him shrugging their shoulders. They have wanted to know more about the mysterious roll.
It is a typical scene from the jazz-age: black Mafiosi-cars, bob-headed women in flapper dresses, men in jacketts and spats, etc. ...
Pirner, now with a hat, a portfolio under his arm, walks fast through the city. He is on his way home, so he doesn't think too much about where he is going.
He turns into an obscure lane. The streetlamp is out of order, the environs are very gloomy. Far away we hear the noise of the roaring-20s-city, cars' rattling, music and so on. At the end of this lane he enters a house...
Pirner climbs up a steep stairway, reaches his floor, passes a few plain wooden flat doors with numbers on them; the walls are ugly yellow, a spiderweb fills a corner. It is completely quiet. Nobody would guess that people are living in this house.
The architect unlocks his flat and goes in... He switches on the light and we see furniture in the rooms, insignificant as the man himself: wooden table with white cloth on it, two chairs, grey rug on the linoleum, a couch with three pillows on it, shelves with books, a radio. Pirner takes off his coat and hat, puts it on a coat stand. He moves over to the table, sweeps away some magazines, lays down his portfolio, opens it and takes out the roll from the tomb. Turning the sheets he steps to the couch and sits down. He starts to read.
My name is Doriane Bruntee.
At least, that was my name when I was a human, yet. My name in darkness is nevertheless lady of the dead. It was Léonard who called me this, Léonard, my demonic beloved...
It is the same lane we saw before, only 100 years earlier. We see a young girl in a long ladies' cloak of the 19th century wandering through the labyrinth of small lanes. She is alone and it is very dark around her. Carefully she looks back, we can hear her nervous breathing. She speeds up her steps in order to reach the thin gas lamp blaze and the light it offers.
Doriane turns into the street with the latern and stops suddenly, when she sees a dark figure draw back from the circle of light to a house wall. It is a gentleman, dressed in black all over; he is wearing a tuxedo, a cape, a top-hat and holding a walking-stick, only his collar and gloves are white, his long hair is also black. He leaves the wall now and comes over with smooth movements He enters the circle of light under the latern, his face still hidden in darkness. Then he raises his head and smiles up to Doriane in a devilish way. - It is Léonard, an undead.
His skin is pale and translucent, his eye-teeth are significantly long and sharp.
Close up to Doriane's face: she is staring at the vampire without any special expression on her features.
Doriane moves over to Léonard. They are facing each other under the latern. The light draws their features in a strange manner.
But this time, when I met him, it wasn't like any time before. I realized somehow, he did not hate me.
Léonard stretches out his arm and takes Doriane by the shoulder.
(talking in a cool way during the whole dialogue)
What do you want from me?
I came to take you where you belong, ma chère. You are one of our kind.
And, what 'kind' is that?
We are creatures of the night, my dear, we are vampires.
I am to be one of yours? What makes you so sure about this?
Because you are marked. Right here on your forehead.
(he points there)
A little mark, invisible for human eyes - like so much else.
But you shall see, this very night.
What will you do next?
Léonard: Give you the immortal blood; I'll drink from your veins and you'll drink from mine. Then you'll become what you're intended to be.
And if I don't want to? - Just a rhetoric question.
I'll probably kill you. What else should I do? - I'm a vampire, as I said before. -
(he sounds absolutely sure)
Besides: You want to. Or is it your desire to waste the time of your life as you did until today? You are different. You could never be like mortals, you could never be accepted. You would be an outcast for ever and ever. Wouldn't you? -
Oh yes, sweetheart! I know much more about you than you would guess!
But: if you become one of my kind you'll live on and on head and shoulders above those people that always have done their best to hurt you.
(beams an irresistible smile on Doriane)
You will decide their lives and their deaths then. You will get your revenge!
We see a slight smile appearing on Doriane's face. It is obvious that she will not refuse to become a vampire. She doesn't even try to escape when Léonard whirls her around in an unholy embrace and begins to bite her throat with pleasure.
He sucks greedily untill they fall onto the ground. He cuts his own artery with a bowieknife and lets her drink from it. After the blood transfusion, both of them lean tiredly in the mud. Doriane looks as if she were dead. Her skin is white, almost blue.
Then something begins to happen to her body: Her eye-teeth start to grow longer, till they look like Léonard's, her red hair gets longer, curlier and finally it tarnishes black like the night; when she opens her eyes again, they are not blue as they were before, but golden like a wolf's eyes.
Well, now you've got immortality, dear sister in darkness.
(he makes a gesture to introduce himself)
I am the vampire Léonard.
I know. - Come on, I guess, we need a little blood now!
Doriane is shocked.
Yes: blood! Did you ever hear of vampires nourished by tomato-juice?? Blood is a neccessary. And we also sleep in coffins, yes, that's true, and you'll even live in a vault; you ought to be happy, not any vampire is as lucky as you!
(calms down; a bit friendlier)
Ah, that's the cost of immortality, likewise living at night, so always be attentive and return to your sarcophagus before dawn. Let's go now, I'm starving!
He takes Doriane's hand and pulls her away with him.
Silently we can hear him murmuring:
Let's kill some whores down by the harbor... guess, taste quite good...
We see a beautiful ornate iron doorway, which leads into a large gothic cemetry. Fog is all around; the atmosphere is very strange. Léonard and Doriane arrive. He opens and they go in. The door closes behind them by itself, although none of the two has even slightly touched it, what is quite strange...
The camera follows them on the way through the graves until they reach the entrance of a vault.
The camera is standing at the side of a stairway that goes down in the wide burial chamber we know from the opening scene. The stonewalls are covered by long swaths of black velvet. Armies of long white candles are burning; wooden coffins, decorated with carved demons and little devils, are standing in two rows, one at each side of the room. The lids are closed except of one.
Léonard leads Doriane downstairs; she looks around amazed and a little bit afraid, too.
(with great gesture)
Welcome to my modest home: the Northern-Churchyard-Cambie.
He loughs aloud, a bit hysterically, as is adequate to his character, then lets himself fall backwards into the open coffin.
This is the cathedral of the vampires of our nice city and that's a casket just for you over there! -
I can already see it: your white face, framed with these angelic curls, on finest silk and lace - absolutely peaceful! Yes, mon amour, it's been high time for you to become one of us; but now, have a nice day and wonderful dreams for the night has been long and strenuous.
Léonard closes his coffin-lid with a loud BANG! while Doriane is standing embarrassedly and turns helpless around. With a groan she draws back the lid of the coffin Léonard had pointed to.
It is the next night. The other vampires are standing around Doriane's coffin while she is waking up.
Get up, dear, I want to introduce you to my friends:
Hortense, Arthurus, Wells, Francesco, Galina and Devon.
They nod their heads to greet Doriane.
Everyone of them has got the same pale, translucent skin, dark shadows around their feverish glowing eyes and the same black hair color. They all are looking as if they were on a hunger-strike; only one of them does not. It's the guy called Francesco who is a bit out of form.
You see, they are very different in age and opinion, in origin, but there is also one thing they have got in common: they are hungry, very hungry - so hurry up, please, the night is not eternal!
Hortense pushes Léonard's side with the ellbow, whispers something into his ear. He agrees silently. Hortense hurries away.
Well, you cannot go as you are, chérie, of course. Hortense thinks you should wear clothes which are more becoming for what you are now.
Doriane is standing in front of a big mirror while Hortense is finishing the last brushing. Doriane is wearing a long white dress that recalls antiquity. Her long hair is flowing down her shoulders. She looks like a fairy. Léonard appears in the mirror.
So we can be seen in mirrors?
Sure we can! I'd really like to know who told the mortals that garbage.
Doriane smiles at his face in the mirror. Her eye-teeth flash in the candle light so she looks really demonic now.
Let's go now, lethal beauty, I know where a party's being thrown tonight!
We are in the upper class-quarter of the city now. The houses have beautiful frontsides with stucco, the wide windows are illuminated by warm yellow light. The last one of the vampires -Francesco, who else would it be? - climbs over the balcony-railing of one house, groaning and silently cursing, the others to help him.
Léonard turns around when they finally get him on the balcony, gets a shock and hastens forward: Doriane is standing in front of the French window and staring in greedily. Inside people are celebrating... laughter and talking can be heard. Léonard snatches Doriane back from the window.
Are you crazy?????
But - the people - the blood...
Can't you pull yourself together just another moment?! You would have ruined everything!
(even more uncomprehending, despairing)
What would I have ruined? Didn't you want to bleed them white?
Silly question! - Now listen carefully to what I say: we are no barbarians who rush at their victims blindly; we prefer the finer amusements.
We play our games with those humans. We scare them before we kill them and that's real pleasure, I think!
So bear that in your mind, OK!?
Suddenly the curtain of the French window is pulled back, the door is opened.
The vampires hide in the shadows with incredible speed.
A gentleman steps out of the room into the fresh air, regarding the bright stars.
Doriane is still standing there in the pale moonlight.
He is yours, chère amie!
Doriane turns towards him helplessly. But it is too late for hiding: the man has already discovered her.
Who the hell are you? Where did you come from?
(tries to sound superior, manages it finally)
I...? - I'm no one you ought to know, just Doriane, poor Doriane Bruntee. I came for to take you with me, out in the black eternity called death.
The man is perturbed, gets angry. He wants to shout at Doriane but she shows him her teeth. The man is horrified and raises his arm to stop her attack. It fails, Doriane is already over him. He even hasn't time to cry for help.
After sucking blood from his throat she leaves the dead body and wipes up her chin. Then she closes his eye-lids and folds his hands on the chest.
A kiss good night, Mr.!
The others come out of their hiding-places. They surround Doriane.
Well done, ma chère!
(to the others)
Isn't she great?!
Let's go now before they become aware of the affair!
The vampires are sitting on a rooftop and observing the people who have found the dead. Their black silhouettes stand against the clear nightly skies.
Well, another mysterious death! - Oh, don't you want to go the the Comedy, fellows, I've got enough of tragedy for tonight.
O yes, please, to the theater!
You like theater?
I'm afraid, I've never been there.
Really?? I think, then, we should go there now. I used to be there nearly every evening when I was a mortal... I was a famous actress in those days, you know...
Yes, yes, dear, we know that! You were a star, you were everybody's darling, you were... just a little supernumerary!
Lies, nothing but nasty lies! Shut up, Arthurus, I hate you! I was a great actress before I was made what I am now, I was... I was... - but you don't know anything, you old, decomposed, mean...
(nerved to death)
It's always the same with you two! Could you perhaps stop arguing? I do indeed want something to drink this night, though you seem not to be able to imagine this!
The theater is crowded, it's noisy, it's late at night. At this hour, people are different from what they are used to be like. They only have their amusement on their mind.
On the stage, which is framed with heavy red velvet curtains, Commedia dell'arte is performed by funny guys with very colorfully painted faces in clowncostumes. The audience, a various mixture through all ages and classes, is screeching and laughing aloud (*think of a rock concert, just a few epoches earlier*). Words can't be understood for the orchestra is playing that the violins seem as they were going to glow.
In one of the boxes we suddenly notice our friends, the vampires, who are clinking glasses filled in with some liquid looking like wine but isn't..
Pitiable mortals! They don't even have the smallest idea of how near they are to death in fact. He sits next to them in the theater, unrecognized in the neighbor-box, he meets them on the nightly way home, he intrudes into their houses because they themselves have invited him to come.
It seemes so grotesque to me and I'd like to laugh about it as loudly that the whole world breakes into pieces. This ridiculousness that's all about!
An over-styled lady is sitting in a dark box, accompanied by some beau of hers. (As we draw nearer, we realize that it is Léonard.) She probably thinks he just wants to kiss her, she doesn't know she will be in Nirvana within a very short time. Without having recognized, she loses her life to an undead sucking from her throat.
A few moments later, Léonard joines the others, wiping up bloody rests from his lips with a splendid white handkerchief, that now is ruined by a large red dot...
But there are also humans from a different bore, who are not as naive.
Well, I'm not talking about those old women who want to keep away vampires and other evil spirits with the help of garlic and rosary; I guess, I wouldn't have to be afraid of them, would I?
I'm thinking of merciless hunters who made it themselves' business to persecute us on the cemetries and to slaughter us with wooden sticks. Although there is some more to do than this to kill a vampire, we have to care about this pernicious peril..
Men in 19th century clothes are carrying laterns and torches with them. They have got dogs, which don't look so very nice, crosses with rosaries around them, wooden pegs, axes and lots of garlic. They are searching carefully for hints to discover demons sleeping in other people's graves.
Maybe we have been much too recklessly not to attrackt the attention of those catchpoles...
We just let continue the horrible line of blood.
Especially Léonard had such a skill never to condescend to serve himself from the streets. As the arrogant aristocrat that he was, he thought this being very unmannerly.
We are in the Victorian age by now.
It's in the noble quarter of the city. One of the beautiful houses there is especially illuminated; a party is given. Carriages and hansoms arrive in front of it and gentlemen in smoking and top-hat and ladies in wide crinolines climb out of them. They enter the house,... lots of different voices and decently playing music can be heard.
Approaching the scenery, we notice two significant pale faces among those lots of people: it's Doriane and Léonard pretending being mortals. They are walking side to side towards the entrance, not being in a hurry. They are quietly talking to each other:
Tell me, Léonard, are you content with what you and with the way things are?
(snobbing contemptously about this silly question)
Why! Of course I am! It couln't be better for I am not one of those mortals any longer, who are always searching for the sense of it all and who want absolutely get it out before it's time for them to die. They are running after something that probably does not exist at all.
(an arrogant smile appears on his features)
But to my uncommon luck I am the vampire Léonard, don't have to be afraid of anything and I've got you at my side, the lady of death. What else - in the name of the holy blood, that stains your cheeks - are you longing for? Anything else is only falsehood and deceit and altoo human as you should think about it so much, isn't it?
Well - yes, sure... but... I just...
You just what?
Nothing. You're right, I guess, I do understand.
Naturally you do!
After all you're my daughter-in-darkness and my sister and my fellow and my beloved.
Can demons like us really have these feelings?
They go into the house...
Immediately, they are welcomed by a thick lady in a wide swinging hoopskirt. Servants help them to take off their cloaks. With an inviting gesture, the lady asks them to come upstairs; going on talking they do so, enter the parlor, an elegant room, crowded with well-dressed people:
Who said we couldn't?
Love, hate, pain, happiness, anger - anything you want! It's just different from human emotions.
So, I am able to love you like I love the night.
Like the night, you say...?
Léonard wants to reply something but in the same moment, he catches sight of someone: - An angelic young lady, sitting on a sofa at the other side of the room, drinking champagne from a gleaming glass. She is not really beautiful but there is something about her that makes her seem to be a kind of fairy, some graceful wonderwall, compairable with an unicorn for example. When she smiles, it is completely different from Doriane's demonic grin.
Léonard is thrilled in a tragic way, forgets what he has wanted to tell Doriane.
What's the matter with you?
(seems to come back from a long journey of mind)
Er... nothing, nothing.
Pirner is still sitting on the couch and reading.
Outside, there is a terrible thunderstorm. Flashes, thunder, wind are raging behind the windows. Raindrops are drumming against the glass. The electricity acts up. The light goes out suddenly.
We hear some noice in the darkness and the architect's cursing. He probably stands up and all the paper falls to the floor with a loud rustling.
He feels his way into the kitchen and searches for a candle in the cupboard. Things fall down and he gets angrier and angrier.
Damned! What a bullshit!
After all he finds a candle and a packet of matches. The flame flashes, the candle burns.
Pirner takes it and returnes to his couch to pick up the papersheets lying on the ground. He tries to assort them but only brings them into bigger disorder. In the end he gives up and starts to read again at some piece of paper. As it is the wrong one, he begins to turn over all the sheets; finally he seems to have found the right one. But it isn't, for now it is Léonard who talks:
Léonard is sitting behind a coffin as if it were a desk. He is writing by the light of a single candle fixed on the coffin-lid that is covered with many paper sheets.
Indeed there had been a time when I really loved Doriane. She was my creature and we were almost symbiotic to each other. A great time!
But then, the night came when it was over.
He stops writing and puts away the pen. With staring melancholic expression he reagards the flaring flame; slowly like in trance he strechtes out his hand and covers it to blow it out. It gets darker in the room, little snakes of smoke ascend over the orange glowing wick.
The architect is sitting on the couch stiffly. He is reading.
Suddenly the lamps go on again. Cold electric light flows the scene and blinds the eyes for a moment.
Pirner looks up from the documents pleased. He stands up in order to put out the candles and to bring them away into the kitchen. After a while he comes back with a glass of beer, sits down again and goes on reading.
We are at the party in the Victorian Age again.
Lots of noble people are moving from here to there, big entanglement of voices, a band is playing contemporary music, but we realize all that like through a deadening haze. It is quite similar to the state when one has had just a bit too much alcohol.
The look is drawn towards the angelic being we noticed before sitting on the sofa. Now, the young girl is walking over with gentle movements. Her wide light-violet hoopskirts are rustling with every step she makes. - Her name is Carolyne Ashcomb.
She may be in the age when Doriane became an undead and the impression of her being an elven beauty, that we have got at first sight, is confirmed. We see, that her face, which is framed by soft golden brown hair, is dominated by the endless depth of a pair of darkblue eyes shaded by a whole lot of long black eye lashes as we get a front view of her.
Beneath her lovely face, there is a perfectly shaped throat which attracts Doriane's special attention...
Doriane is standing at the buffet table and pretending to drink bowle from a glass. The expression on her face is fairy sinister. She disengages her eyes from Carolyne's look and turns towards Léonard's, who is at the other end of the room,conversing with a groop of gentlemen. Their eyes meet over the distance.
She is so amiable, isn't she? - What a pitty for her!
No, Doriane! Don't do it.
Doriane is completely perturbed.
I ask you for mercy. Don't do it!
His face is distorted by confusion and pain.
What's the matter?
She looks at him. He cannot resist her piercing eyes
Tell me why I shall not kill her! I am so thirsty. Do you want her for yourself or what?
Léonard just shakes his head.
I am dying of thirst! And what about you? You didn't drink anything this evening, either? We ought to go away then if you absolutely want to! Let us go.
Doriane gets angry because she doesn't understand and she hates not to understand.
What the hell is the matter with you?! You're very strange tonight. You look so stange. What is about this girl that makes you behave in this uncanny manner?
Again he shakes his head tiredly. He doen't want to explain for he is too confused himself.
You wouldn't understand it anyway. Now be quiet, Doriane!
She feels repelled.
We've always shared our thoughts. Why don't you trust me?
Because you are what you are...
(pauses; goes on grievedly)
... and I am what I am.
He turns away from her.
Doriane closes her eyes, she presses her hands against her temples. She has got even paler, her shivering lips are blue: she really needs some blood now. Head over heals she rushes out of the room.
Doriane runs downstairs in the empty wide entrance hall. Her hair is disintegrating, the big hoopskirts are fluttering behind her; we hear her shoes clatter on the floor. Quickly, she crosses the hall, opens the door and leaves the house by letting the door open.
We glance along a long city street that lies deserted and menacing in the silver moonlight. Gaslaterns cause a disgusting, strange atmosphere.
Suddenly: the pattering of feet. Doriane runs down the street panicing.
A beautiful old-fashioned iron fence. High deciduous trees are standing there, the cool nocturnal breeze makes the leaves rustle. Doriane arrives at the fence completely out of breath. She is shivering, gets weaker and weaker from minute to minute. Gasping, she holds on the fence.
Through the arbours, she can see a large park with wide lawns, trees and a little lake in the middle of it. The full moon is mirrored on it, the water is stirred by the wind. Then she notices two delayed lovers standing by the pond. The silver lighted background makes them seem unreal.
She has found what she was searching for. Immediately, she hastens forward, enters the park and draws nearer the two mortals without them realizing her.
It is the same place, peacefully in the moonlight. Then, we see horrible looking Doriane, walking a few steps with shivering knees. Her hair is tousled, her clothes are dirty, a rest of fresh blood is still on her mouth, her eyes are staring out in the dark without perceiving anything. Behind her, the two dead bodies are lying on the ground, covered with their own blood, showing the signs of a fight. She stumbles and gets down at the side of a huge tree. She hides her face on the bark; it's obviously that she is crying.
Just when I had been sure that nobody ever would be able to hurt me by outcasting me again, it had happened. The lustre of eternity was gone, because I had to bear it alone now. I was alone again, absolutely alone, but this time, there was even no death that could deliver me from loneliness. I was damned to live on and on. What mistake had I made? I had to be the most repulsive creature of all.
We are in an alley in the outskirts of the city. The streets are wider, the houses lower and smaller, but they have pretty little gardens around them. The area seems to be wealthy; it is quite clean. Gaslaterns light the darkness. The inhabitants are all sleeping, the windows are black. Carolyne Ashcomb lives in one of those lovely houses; it is made of red brick and there are nice flower-beds all over the garden.
And the fact of her dwelling in this house, is the reason for Léonard being there. He is hidden behind one of the trees at the street, watching the Ashcomb-house; you can't see him very good because of his black clothes. But when you get nearer, you notice the despair lying in the expression of his face.
Suddenly one of the windows on the first floor is lighted by a candle. The curtain is pulled back, the window is opened. We realize Carolyne standing there, staring out in the night, regarding the sky, which is covered with stars. Her hair, flowing down over the négligé she is wearing, reflects the light of the unusual bright shining moon.
Léonard looks at her but he doesn't want her to see him. He takes a last longing glance at her, before he slowly walks away.
I was confused. Since I had seen her, I found anything forbidding that I had been doing before. I suddenly realized my wickedness and only wished I could do something against it. But I was not able to, I was a prisoner of my vampirism. I hated myself and I envied all the people who could see her in the sunlight.
Léonard, with wild hair and neglected clothes, is grabbing things and stuffing it into a large burlap sack not very carfully; thus, he doesn't notice Doriane who has entered the vault and now is standing on the entrance stairs.
What are you doing?
Léonard turns round.
I'm leaving, can't you see that?
But, but where do you want to go?
Is this your business?!
Doriane hurries towards him and tries to hold him back on his shoulders.
Stay here! Don't you see, you cannot run away? Give up this disgust against yourself; it is your true nature as well as it's mine. Stay! It's got so dangerous out there.
Testy, Léonard shakes her off.
Would you please go out of my way?
I don't want to have to do anything with you any more!
Do you think this is fair!? Do you really think, it is fair, to push me out in the eternal night of an undead's life and then just leave me alone?! You didn't think of me just for one single moment, right? But I need you, Léonard.
Léonard laughs out nastily. He brutally grabs her arm and pulls her near towards himself. His eyes are sparkling with hate.
You need me, Doriane? You? Really? - Then, I'd like to let you know, dear, that I do not care about this at all. It's completely equal to me.
(looking at her disgustedly)
You are completely equal to me. Understand?
For one second, it looks as if he wants to push her onto the ground; but instead, he lets her loose and leaves the tomb straightly.
A procession of men with trackhounds, equiped with torches spears, axes, plugs and crucifixes, marches through the nocturnal streets, singing old-Christian hymns. Then it stops at a wide place with cobble-stone pavement and forms a circle around one of the men, the one who led them here. As he begins to speak, the others grow silent.
No one of you, fellows, would ever have thought that this might be possible. But now, we all can see, it is indeed true...
(turns towards a man standing next to him, his HANDY-MAN, and whispers with him)
The handy-man hurries away, forcing his way through the crowd, while the leader goes on speaking:
And it is horrible!
At this moment, two men carry an undefinable bundle towards the center of the circle where the speaker is standing. When they let it slide onto the ground, it can be recognized as the dead body of a murdered woman. A murmur arises in the crowd.
(affirmating the horror)
Yes, everybody can see now what has happened! Everybody can see now something's out there, which will haunt us and which is a danger for everyone of us. Thereby, it won't spare our wives and our children, and I think, we have to defend ourselves against this terrible affliction which has got a name: VAMPIRE!
As we look closer, we realize two bloody marks on the woman's throat.
Léonard comes out of the cemetry and bangs the door behind himself harshly. His anger influences the way he is walking: he quickly plodes away, having his left hand stuffed into his coat pockets (the right hand is holding his luggage). His pale features look dark and sinister. In his head, the rememberance of a past argument with Doriane is resounding:
Don't deny it. You can never be part of the light world again.
Why did I have to become - this?
You never disliked it.
And it is your true nature ... as well as it's mine. So give up this disgust against yourself; go out on a raid instead. That's what you really need now - you cannot only live on mice and rats.
Well, to die would be a real salvation for me.
Why! You must be insane!
I knew, you wouldn't even try to understand.
That's because I am afraid about you. Look at yourself: your face is such haggard that it seems strange to me, you're just a merely nightly identikit.
And you're so stupid, Doriane! Can't you leave me alone? Go out and be what you are. Go killing human beings!
Darkness and fog absorb his apprearance.
The sky is beautiful to look at this evening. Not a single cloud covers the bright shining stars nor the full moon, that lights the night.
Carolyne, dressed in a white negligé fluttering in the slight night breeze, is taking an airing in the lovely garden, when she suddenly notices a noise behind one of the big trees there. She turns round and stares intensly into the shadows. Slowly, a phantom-like figure leaves the tree shadow: it's Léonard. He rises his hand to quiet Carolyne.
Hush! Please don't be scared.
Why should I? You have been in my garden for several times by now.
Léonard looks at her astonishedly.
But - how do you know? ...
I always knew, you were here. I am not afraid of you.
You also know what I am?
(disgust against himself)
He turns away his eyes from hers towards the grass.
Yes, I do.
Aren't you afraid of my demoniac nature?
Yes, but I don't care.
She steps right in front of him and takes his cheeks in her hands.
You would never do anything bad to me, would you?
How can you be sure? I'm a calm murderer, I'm repulsive. And there's no way out for me.
Does it matter?
She kisses him in a warm and loving way.
No, it didn't - as long as I stayed with her. But when the sun drove me away and I had to go back to my coffin, misery came over me again.
The picture vanishes and turns into black.
What should happen to me? What should happen to her? - The situation was hopeless; but though I am a pessimist, I would never have dared to think, it would become this horrible...
Carolyne is shown sitting inbetween roses and ivy, holding a little bouquet on her lap; hair and dress are also decorated with blossoms. Her beautiful face seems dreamy with the eyes being fixed in some invisible point far away. Probably, this might be the most lovely picture one has ever seen?
And all my misfortune was caused by her...
We are standing in the hall of a big old house; the atmosphere is creepily tensed. Anything could happen now - you just don't know what.
Shadows seem to be flitting over through the old, heavy and dark fourniture without being really able to be catched.
A pompously turned stairway leads up to the gallery on the 1st floor.
Suddenly the big oak door opens and a bunch of brown and yellow autumnal leaves blow in all over the large, former expensive-looking rug. With them, also a person came in, who now hurries to close the door and to lock it quickly from inside. When the person turns round to lean exhaustedly and heavily breathing against the door, we realize that it's Doriane. She looks chased trying to divide the dark with her widely open eyes.
He left anything behind, me, his philosophy, his nature, just to retrieve his soul - an undertaking as senseless as life itself.
But he had given un-life to me, so I didn't want to let him go for eternity. I went to his new shelter, an old box in a run-down part of the city...
A large room (already having seen better better days), the wooden floor covered with a thick dust-layer, coming to be visible in the bluish light of the rising moon filtering through the high dirty, partly broken windows. The quite fragmentary fourniture is half dilapidated and roughly hung with large, former white sheets.
As we enter the room and thereby draw nearer to the darkest corner of it, we notice a big black thing, a kind of box, standing there. It appears to be Leonard's luxurious coffin out of Transilvanian mooroak.
He is stiffly lying in it, with empty eyes absent-minded staring up to the ceiling without beholding it. His pale, unnatural features seem like an emotionless mask, he could as well be dead.
The fact of his being still alive only turns out to be true when he pays attention to a damped noise from somewhere inside the house. He gathers himself up, crosses and leaves the room to the gallery.
He leans over to have a look at the entrance hall downstairs.
Doriane, still standing by the door, still a bit out of breath, notices Léonard in the same moment as he realizes her presence. He stares at her with threatening yellow glowing eyes. It's clear, that he is not even pleased with her emerging here, but he stays icy quiet.
You've found a nice place, I must confess.
The completely failed effort of making a joke.
(his face remains immovable; the tone he speaks with is piercing and increasingly gets more sarcastic)
Did you only come to my unworthy, miserable botch to tell me that? - What a waste of time for you, blood-drinker, that you are such an elevated, god-like creature!
(obviously hurt she is struggling for not to lose hold herself)
No, I didn't. I wanted...
(impatiently interrupts her)
Oh, stop explaining your reasons! I already know what you're going to tell me and I am not interested in any single part of it.
He covers his face with one hand, resting himself with the other one on the banisters, and rubbes his eyes. He seems to be very, very tired; his movements are fidgety like those of a sick person.
I cannot watch your lingering illness any longer.
Distrustful, he looks up and his eyes meet hers.
She quickly turns round to hurry away.
Léonard looks up, as the door bangs, yet.
(suddenly wide awake; scared)
His voice sounds shrill resounding with harmfull prediction.
He quickly rushes behind her out of the hall, that remains sinisterly lit by the cool moonlight.
Doriane is standing in front of the entrance door and knocking and ringing the bell noisily and impetuously until a sleepy butler in his nighty and with his nightcap on his head, holding a candle in his hand, opens. He looks at her disintegrated appearance suprised and disapproved; however, she ignores that completely by jostling energetically into the house...
It's a beautiful luxurious hall with rich ornates and marble floor. A broad mahaghony stairway leads upstairs. The ambiance reminds to Léonard's old box, only this one is much more delightful.
Doriane at once intends to turn to the stairway of which the butler tries to prohibit her.
Where? Where is she?!
(appreasing, making ridiculous little jump-moves around Doriane)
Why, Miss! Who are you? To whom do you want? You cannot just rush in here at this time in the night - and without an appointment! - Do you have an appointment?
(even more angrily)
I do not need any appointment!
Would you be so kind as to...
Doriane has reached the first few stairs in the meantime.
Miss! I ask you to...
(very angrily, very loudly and very clearly interrupting him)
Once more: I do not need any announcement or something like that - UNDERSTAND?
Doriane shows him her frightful eye-teeth in a quite horrifying way.
(shocked to death; subduedly stummers)
... you cannot go upstairs without an announcement...
While the poor man still can't believe what he has seen right before, Doriane already arrives upstairs in a moonlit corridor from which several doors branch of.
In this moment, Carolyne in a peignoir, woken up from the tumult in the house, comes out of one room on the leften side. Doriane flies at her, grabs her shoulders and begins to shake an to shout at her:
You! - You are the cause of all the mischief! You are guilty and you deserve to die!
Carolyne shakes off Doriane's grip.
So, you came to me at last. I have always wondered when you would.
Yes, it's me!
Why do you have to do all this? Can't you see that you always will be only an intruder?
(now speaking too calm not to be suspect)
I may be but you are just mortal. One day, you will die anyway; so why not today? Isn't it a nice hour for dying?
A demoniac grin spreads out over Doriane's face which lays bare her white, lethal eye-teeth.
Doriane is still bending over Carolyne's body, that lifelessly has sunken to the ground, sucking blood from her throat, when loud voices from downstairs can be heard. One moment later, Léonard enters the scenery breathlessly. As he catches sight of what is going on there, he stops a few steps away from Doriane kneeling over Carolyne (she turns her back towards him, so she doesnt't notice him at once) scaredly.
No... what have you done?
Doriane leaves Carolyne's dead body alone and looks round with her mouth being red from fresh blood.
(with a slight smile upon her features)
Having noticed that he already came too late, Léonard rushes at Doriane with an angry roar and pulls her up from the dead brutally. Holding her packed by the arm, he shakes her all through.
(glancing at her furiously; with rage and desperation in his voice)
What have you done??? What the hell have you done, Doriane??!!!!
He finally throws her down again, so she bangs hard against the wall and comes to lie on the floor uncomfortably, while Léonard is already getting down on his knees and carefully takes the dead into his arms. He touches her pallid, but beautiful face affectionately and having kissed the closed eye-lids, he gives the dead body a hug, whereby the gaping wound on her throat stains his shirt red. His body is passed by shivering snobs, tears run down his white cheeks. He seems to be absorbed in his mourning, so he at first does not realize Doriane, who has braced herself up, stepping next to him and lying her hand softly upon his shoulder. For a short while, they remain standing like this, with the murderer comforting the victim's beloved.
Suddenly, Léonard leaps up truning round, in rage grabs Doriane's hand and at the same time, gripes round her throat by pushing her brutally against the wall.
(contemption in his face and in his voice)
My god, how I do hate you.
(tears smother her words)
but I did it for you. I did it because I love you.
Léonard lets her loose. His rage is being replaced by growing desperation; he seems to be very tired as he turns away the face from Doriane.
You want my love? You have already robbed it. So now also take my hate!
Don't you see, there was no point in watching you destroying yourself any longer. She had a bad influence on you, Léonard, and I delivered you from it.
(dripping with sarcasm)
So I should even be grateful, shouldn't I?
(ignoring that; touching his face)
Yes, she is dead - but we are alive. Everything will be how it was!
(shirks from her)
No, nothing will ever be how it was! This is the final divorce of the two of us. I do not wish to see you again; I'm afraid, I would kill you then. I cannot forgive, never, and I don't want to, either.
I hope, you are happy now.
A noise from outside suddely cuts the silence...
It is completely dark around, almost too dark for a city. Only the quickly blaze of moonlight lets one divine that this is a citystreet as the dense cloud cover splits for a second; then it's imperviously dark again.
Suddenly little points of light appear in the distance which are continuously drawing nearer. Those points soon turn out to be torches held by grim looking men who are equiped with all those exorcistic items - pikes, axes, crucifices, rosaries and so on. They march up the street; none of them says a single word. The scene makes one shuddering.
Doriane takes the bearings by watching out of the window while Léonard it standing around passivly, regarding Carolyne's dead body incomprehendingly.
We can see her eyes widely opening with shock and her lips moving in the way as if she was saying 'Oh my god...', which seems strange for a complete evil creature like her. She quickly turns towards Léonard.
He only lifts his eyes slightly when she turns round to grab his arm nervously. He obviously does not like to be touched in such an intimate way, but he is too absent-minded and consternated to repell her nor does she care. She is suddenly in a big hurry.
They will be arriving soon, Léonard - we must flee!
If they got me, could that be worse than what you did to me?
He jerks his shoulders. Doriane tries to overcome her desperation; she swallows and looks at him in an intensive and urgent manner.
The noise from outside is drawing nearer and nearer. Then there is a loud banging on the front door that echoes through the hall.
Doriane winces terrifiedly squeezing Léonard's hand. She lookes up into his shady eyes.
We must go now.
They hurry downstairs and meet the butler who is going to open the door. With a hard grip they stop him and fall upon him at the same time like two black vultures upon something dead. It takes only a few short seconds to suck any life out of his body. They let it carelessly slide to the floor to continue the way to the back door as quickly as possible.
The door opens, though carefully with a piercing squeal. Two silent shadows - who else than Léonard and Dorian - shove outside, taking the baerings on the leften and on the righten side. They go on sneaking through the rustling bushes in the garden, finally reach the gardenwall and help each other to climb over it.
A few men of the anti-vampire procession have intruded in Carolyne's house and now are rumbling upstairs where they find the dead body lying on the floor. One of them gets down beside the dead and exams her throat. He shows the two bite marks to the others, who take off their hats.
She could have prevented this...
Four of the vampire hunters, equally equiped like those above, are afflicting Carolyne.
I don't know what you are talking about, gentlemen. What's all that bunk about vampires?
Miss Ashcomb, it is absolutely necessary to tell us what you know in order to protect yourself and many others from this danger.
What danger? I cannot see any. I think, this is ridiculous - vampires!
We just want to have some information about this Mister...
I don't know what he should have to do with all that...
Oh yes - we think, you do quite well. Don't be stupid, Miss.
So, is he or not?
(gives it up)
Well, we have understood. If you don't want to help us, we will not be able to protect you. But this is you decision.
May I show you the way to the door?
We will find the way on our own. Miss Ashcomb.
The men lift their hat and leave.
The hunters are still standing around the dead body.
(taking his hat on)
But now it's too late.
She hasn't been dead for long. Those beasts must still be closy by here.
There is no time to lose. Let's go.
They turn away and leave downstairs.
Doriane and Léonard have climbed over the garden wall into a small lane behind the Ashcombs' premises. Even for vampires it is nearly completely dark with the flabbing fog all around. They start to feel their way forward hurriedly. But suddenly, they stand in front of a wall. This section appears to be a blind alley!
Curse the gods!
They turn around and try the other direction that leads around the estate towards the front street, where the vampire hunters are. Hiding behind the corner on the garden wall, they observe the slayers:
Four men arriving from the house join the group and confer with it.
They've found the dead...
On this words spoken out, Léonard winces slightly.
The procession now splits to persecute the vampires, who are considered to be still dwelling near by.