FADE IN: EXT. VILLA DIODATI - NIGHT. SUPER: “Lake Geneva, Switzerland.
June, 1816”. A large manor on a manicured hillside next to a lake is buffeted by ...
Monsters & Men by Peter Scott Vicaire
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FADE IN: EXT. VILLA DIODATI - NIGHT SUPER: “Lake Geneva, Switzerland.
June, 1816”
A large manor on a manicured hillside next to a lake is buffeted by howling winds and heavy rains. Lamp lights flicker in windows. INT. VILLA DIODATI - BEDROOM - NIGHT CLAIRE Clairmont, 18, pretty, lies in bed, reading by lamp light. She absentmindedly rubs her stomach. INSERT: The book cover: “Beowulf.” Inside, a sketch of a giant, scaly/hairy humanoid monster. Its eyes, drawn aglow. She grimaces at the image.
Reads aloud, disturbed.
CLAIRE “But no earthly weapon can harm Grendel. Beowulf summons even greater strength and rips Grendel’s arm completely out of its socket.” Oh, how horrid! MARY (O.S.) Claire! Do come down! has a surprise for us!
Lord Byron
INT. VILLA DIODATI - PARLOR ROOM - NIGHT Rain pelts the windows. Winds moan. Flickering candles and a dying fire in the fireplace provide the only light. Claire enters - approaches four people. She glances at Lord BYRON, 28, a dashingly handsome aristocrat, who looks away, dismissive. Puffs on an ornate hookah pipe. His indifference etches a frown across her face. Holding hands on a loveseat are MARY Godwin, 18, a fair woman with a piercing look, and PERCY Shelly, 24, a handsome, thin man with large, entrancing blue eyes. Seated alone is John POLIDORI, 21, a dark-haired man who sips red wine. He smiles with red-stained lips - nods to Claire. Lightning illuminates the room and a fifth person...
2.
JOHANN Schröpfer, 44, sits in shadowy silence behind a large object draped with a velvet veil. His eyes are filmy white. MARY (to Claire) Have you finally found the resolve to put something down on paper? Thunder cracks as Claire pulls away from Johann’s cold eyes. CLAIRE No. But I take solace in knowing that in our family, if you cannot write an epic or novel, that by its originality knocks all other novels on the head, you are a despicable creature, not worth acknowledging. MARY Hush, dear step-sister. Perhaps if you didn’t spend so much time reading those Old English texts. CLAIRE Dare I ask what you have concocted? MARY Oh, nothing really.
Just a few-
PERCY Nonsense! The future Mary Shelly is a genius! Percy’s voice is shrill.
He reads from a sheet of paper.
PERCY “Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus,” by Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin. “Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath. HisBYRON Enough! Lightning sears the sky. Thunder claps as Byron pours himself some wine - nods to Johann in the dark corner. BYRON Such frightful visuals should be saved for the phantasmagoria. Oh.
PERCY Yes, of course.
3.
BYRON Have you birthed anything worth sharing, Polly Dolly? POLIDORI A few lines seeded from your unfinished fragment. It concerns the dark designs of one Lord Ruthven. BYRON A lord with dark designs? Pray tell it is not my biography! POLIDORI No, my Lord. It is titled, “The Vampyre” and concerns a vile creature who sucks blood and life from young maidens before casting them aside as detritus. Polidori glances at a morose Claire before turning back to Byron, who smiles - lamp light catches a sparkle in his eye. BYRON “Vampyre”? The Vardoulacha! What little acquaintance I have with them would by no means induce me to reveal their secrets. You are a braver man than I, good doctor. POLIDORI Surely you don’t believe them real? BYRON If they can be thought, who is to say they aren’t already? Our good friend, Freemason, and occultist, Herr Schröpfer, may assist us in exploring that worthy question. Mary and Percy make nervous eye contact - hold hands tighter. Scared, Claire sneaks a peak at Johann - looks away as the creepy man sits forward in his chair. Silent. Dead eyes. BYRON His grandfather was driven quite mad by his own illusions. Shot himself in the head after promising an audience he would later resurrect himself. Is that not right, Herr Schröpfer?
4.
The rain TAP TAP TAPS against the window - fireplace flames dance with the darkness. No response. BYRON I say, you’re very well not going to shoot yourself, are you? Still no response. TAP TAP TAPPing rain. breaks the unnerving silence.
Polidori finally
POLIDORI And what did you write for Lord Byron’s challenge, Percy? PERCY Just incomplete scribbles of my lifelong love affair with Medusa. CLAIRE My, what a wretched thought! Byron glares at her. BYRON No more wretched a thought than loving certain banal, mortal women. She looks away, pained, as Johann speaks, startling everyone. His accent is German, his voice, gravelly. His smile, sinister. JOHANN It is time. Johann lights a bowl of powder, which POOFS! into a brilliant magnesium light burst. It emits thick, grey smoke tendrils which crawl to the five audience members. The rain increases in intensity - TAPS on the windows like wet, bony fingers. Johann rips the veil off his mysterious object - revealing a laterna magica. The metal contraption stands five feet tall, with a concave mirror in front of a lantern light source. It is covered in ancient, Germanic rune symbols. JOHANN All energy manifestations are born on the mental plane and pass through the unpredictable astral before their parturition in the physical. That is when the membrane between life and death is ruptured. When malevolent energy can be conceived and caged.
5.
Smoke wafts across the room as Johann slides a thick glass plate into the laterna magica. It casts disturbing images of disembodied heads, skeletons, demons, and other ghastly creatures into the wall of smoke. Teary-eyed and terrified, Claire runs away but is snatched back by Lord Byron, who hurls her back on the couch. BYRON I want you to see this! She gathers her courage - peers into the thick smoke which has now enveloped the room. Wicked, bizarre and disturbing images seem to come alive in the smoky folds. Mary, Percy, and Polidori stand before Johann while Byron holds Claire down at his side. They recite lines, overlapping one other. MARY “His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath. His hair was lustrous black and flowing, his teeth of a pearly whiteness. But these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same color as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shriveled complexion and straight black lips.”
PERCY “It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky, upon the cloudy mountain peak supine. Below, far lands are seen trembling, its horror and its beauty are divine. Upon its lips and eyelids seems to lie loveliness like a shadow, from which shrine, fiery and lurid, struggling underneath, the agonies of anguish and of death. Yet it is less the horror than the grace which turns the gazer's spirit into stone.”
POLIDORI “Lord Ruthven gazed upon the mirth around him, as if he could not participate therein. Apparently, the light laughter of the fair only attracted his attention, that he might by a look quell it, and throw fear into those breasts where thoughtlessness reigned.” Johann throws more powder into the bowl - the light burst shows an old, grisly bullet wound on the side of his head. There is an almost impenetrable wall of smoke. The static images of skeletons and demons are now accentuated by wispy, floating, living images taking form...
6.
... a giant, grotesque man with yellow skin, sewn and stitched together: Frankenstein’s Monster. A beautiful woman with hair made of hissing snakes: Medusa. A pale, welldressed nobleman with eyes of cold steel: Lord Ruthven. Byron watches the unbelievable creatures take form and shape. His expression of amusement, then awe, turns to abject fear. MARY “I beheld the wretch, the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds...”
PERCY “Hairs which are vipers, and they curl and flow. And their long tangles in each others lock, And with unending involutions show, their mailed radiance, as it were to mock.”
POLIDORI “Those who felt this sensation of awe, could not explain whence it arose: some attributed it to the dead grey eye, which, fixing upon the object's face, did not seem to penetrate, and at one glance to pierce through to the inward workings of the heart.” Semi-formed, Frankenstein’s Monster, Medusa, and Lord Ruthven spin and curl in thick wreaths around their creators. Claire welds her eyes shut.
Murmurs a protective mantra.
CLAIRE “No earthly weapon can harm Grendel. No earthly weapon can harm Grendel. No earthly weapon can harm Grendel.” Lastly, a fourth creature emerges from the smoke - a giant, hairy/scaly creature with glowing eyes: Grendel. It wafts over to Claire just as she opens her eyes. She screams, horrified - in sync with shattering thunder, as Lord Byron curls up in the corner, shivering in fear. The three authors stop reading, stunned. Afraid to move. Johann smiles, pulls the glass slide from the laterna magica. All four creatures are sucked into the device - though they scratch, claw, and howl against it. Eventually, they are swallowed whole in a burst of radiant white light. FADE TO WHITE:
7.
INT. AUCTION HOUSE - STORAGE ROOM - DAY AUCTION HOUSE WORKER, 20s, listening to an iPod, pries the removable side off a wooden crate. He pulls out styrofoam peanuts and Johann’s laterna magica - now rusted and ancient. SUPER: “Today” He examines it, impressed. Puts a high-powered light source into the belly of the contraption. Turns the light off. The laterna magica spits out a bright light onto the brick wall. He slides the glass plate in its spot, casting unimpressive, faded images of skeletons and demons. AUCTION HOUSE WORKER Lame. Something on the wall catches the corner of his eye. What starts out as a two-dimensional image, slowly peels itself off in three-dimensional form. It’s massive. It’s... Grendel. Standing over 12’ tall, its hairy/scaly body is hunched with broad, square shoulders and its arms hang low, tipped with monstrous claws. Its mouth bulges with razor sharp teeth. Auction House Worker backs away.
Horrified.
Behind Grendel, three more forms take shape on the wall Frankenstein’s Monster, Medusa, and Lord Ruthven. Grendel snarls and leaps at Auction House Worker. swift blow, his head is lopped off.
With one
Medusa falls off the wall to the floor next to the rolling human head, as does Frankenstein’s Monster and Lord Ruthven. Grendel lifts his massive claw over Medusa’s head - alive with writhing snakes. He swipes down to behead her... SMAK!
...but is stopped by a meaty, yellowed, stitched hand.
Frankenstein’s Monster snarls - squeezes Grendel’s wrist. Dismissive, Grendel throws Frankenstein’s Monster against the far wall like a rag doll and bolts from the room. Frankenstein’s Monster gets up, looks around, confused. He picks up the still limp, unconscious Medusa and Lord Ruthven and throws them over his shoulders.
8.
INT. COMMUNITY COLLEGE - CLASSROOM - DAY TIM, 40, a nebbish, disheveled professor, stands squarely behind his podium, before a half-filled class of halfinterested students. Behind him are posters, pictures and images of classic literary and mythological characters and monsters. TIM Is it woven into DNA? Learned? What is that magical ingredient that makes a hero, heroic? A monster, monstrous? Anyone? He surveys the lethargic class. No takers. TIM What makes one answer a call to adventure? Enter that fateful region of both treasure and danger? Come on, guys. Anything? A disinterested girl, 20s, chewing bubble gum, POPS a bubble. Checks her phone. TIM The hero archetype is the ego’s search for wholeness. Identity. As we fumble our way through life, we all face monsters, internal guarA muscular young man, MARSHALL, 22, lifts his hand. Tim’s eyes light up. TIM Yes, Marshall! MARSHALL Is this gonna be on the test? All students perk up at the question, including SAMANTHA, 20s, sexy-nerdy, who stops typing computer code on a laptop. Tim sighs, exasperated. No.
TIM Probably not.
9.
INT. COMMUNITY COLLEGE - TEACHERS’ LOUNGE - DAY Tim sits at a table, alone.
A TV plays in the background.
He opens his brown paper lunch bag - retrieves a bagged, perfectly-cut bologna sandwich. Folds the paper bag in two and places it back in his coat pocket. He eats - happens to glance over at the TV, which shows police tape cordoning off the front of the auction house. Interested, he turns it up. A jittery female reporter speaks. REPORTER (V.O.) ...and one witness reports that a giant man has taken two unknown hostages from the scene of a grisly murder - the beheading of a local auction house employee. TIM Jesus. REPORTER (V.O.) Considering the brutal method of the murder, the few people we spoke to mentioned possible involvement of al-Qaeda terrorists. We will be following this story as itHe turns it off. INT. TIM’S APARTMENT - NIGHT An academic hoarder’s heaven. Books, documents, manuscripts, and papers lay around in a clustered mess. Burrowed within the stacks is Tim, who sits at his desk, reading. His TV plays in the background - catches his eye. On screen, the Reporter is now in front of an old tavern, which has police tape cordoning off the building. REPORTER (V.O.) ...in what appears to be the second serial killers’ attacks. This time, the victim, a twenty-five year old man, was disemboweled on the steps of this local bar. So far, no witnesses have come forth.
10.
INT. COMMUNITY COLLEGE - CLASSROOM - DAY Tim drones on in front of bored students. his safe place behind the podium.
Again, he is in
TIM And this motif is common, in that it emphasizes that the crossing of the threshold is in fact, a sort of self-annihilation. Marshall’s face is buried in a “Guns & Ammo” type magazine. Samantha is again neck deep in computer code on her laptop. Annoyed, Tim sees this. TIM Would you agree with that, Marshall? Samantha? The brawny young man lifts his head. MARSHALL Huh? TIM Would you agree that the motif in question is in fact a sort of selfimmolation of one’s ego? MARSHALL Dude, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. The class murmurs a chuckle as Samantha closes her laptop. TIM Of course you don’t. even in my class?
Why are you
MARSHALL ‘Cuz everyone knows you give easy A’s and I need to up my GPA for Marine Corps Officer Candidate School. Tim is red-faced, flustered. TIM Officer Candidate School? to lead men in battle? MARSHALL Yup.
You want
11.
Tim laughs, dismissive. MARSHALL What? You talk about call to adventure and crossing thresholds and stuff like it’s something you know good enough to teach. The students are entertained by his brazenness. MARSHALL But you ain’t never done nothing but read and talk. What do you know about adventures? INT. COMMUNITY COLLEGE - TEACHERS’ LOUNGE - DAY Tim sits at the same table, alone. He opens his reused brown paper lunch bag - pulls out an identical, perfectly-cut bologna sandwich as the day before. He examines the reused paper bag and its myriad folds. it safely back in his coat pocket.
Tucks
He examines the sandwich - the crust, the meat - the corners. After a pensive moment, he squeezes until it’s just a mushy ball of bread, mayo and pink meat. SLAM!
He tosses in the trash.
INT. BAR - DAY Tim bellies up to the bar. Soaks up his surroundings. TIM I would like one beer, barkeep. And a cold one at that! The bartender nods - pours one on tap just as a sultry, female English voice is heard from behind. MEDUSA (O.S.) Hello, Timothy Baker. Tim turns to see Medusa. Her hair is covered in a thick, decorative cloth wrapping and she wears sunglasses. Regardless, her bronzed, beautiful Grecian features are prominently on display. TIM Oh.
12.
She sports modern-day clothing, but with price tags still dangling off. Her otherworldly beauty is entrancing. MEDUSA You are Timothy Baker? TIM Guilty as charged.
And you are...
MEDUSA I am Medusa. His smile disappears. He swivels away on his bar stool, defiantly chugs his beer. Ha, ha.
TIM Very funny.
MEDUSA Why is that humorous? TIM That Marshall kid put you up to this? Quite inventive for a dumb jock, I gotta give him that. MEDUSA I am sure I do not understand what you’re referring to. He points at the head covering - the sunglasses. This.
TIM You. It’s stupid.
MEDUSA You wish to place a shade of enmity between us? TIM Look, I know this is a gag so just drop it, all right? MEDUSA Would you like to accompany me back to my lodgings? He quickly eyes her shapely body.
Chugs his beer.
MEDUSA Am I not fair-cheeked? Do you not find my form appealing? He looks up to her sunglasses.
Takes another chug of beer.
13.
INT. TIM’S CAR - DAY Tim’s car pulls up alongside a dirt road outside a longabandoned, boarded-up house. The vehicle idles. Tim looks out the car window and sees the house in the middle of a field of weeds. TIM You live there? Yes.
MEDUSA For the time being.
TIM Look, this was a mistake. I don’t know... what this is all about. He digs in his pocket. TIM I can give you some money so you can do what you... He pulls out his re-re-re-reused lunch bag. TIM ...need to do. EXT. MONSTERS’ HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER Tim and Medusa stand outside the SQUEAKY, screen-less, screen door. He looks like he’s about to faint. TIM (under his breath) Answer the call, cross the threshold... answer the call, cross the threshold... I’m sorry?
MEDUSA What did you say?
TIM There’s not going to be like two big guys in here with rusty knives ready to take my liver, is there? MEDUSA I assure you I am no grub street garreteer, Timothy Baker. But I am in need of something.
14.
TIM From me? Yes. She smiles.
MEDUSA From you.
Opens the door.
Enters.
MEDUSA Please give me what I need. Tim stares at the chipped paint of the crooked, old door frame. The worn floor from untold numbers of entries. He breathes deep.
Crosses the threshold.
INT. MONSTERS’ HOUSE - CONTINUOUS Boarded-up windows cast the room in low-light. him into the living room.
Medusa leads
INT. MONSTERS’ HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS The living room is even darker - with just enough light to see two bedrolls and a makeshift cot on the floor. Medusa calls out to someone.
Or something.
MEDUSA I have retrieved him. Movement of two shadowy figures gets Tim’s attention. FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER, horrid, and LORD RUTHVEN, 30s, dapper and graceful, step forward from the shadows. Terrified, Tim bolts from the room. TIM I knew it! Like a blur, Lord Ruthven trips him. Tim stumbles headfirst against the door frame he entered through - BANG! Unconscious. A bloody gash on his head. Frankenstein’s Monster pulls his body back in - leaving a slight trail of blood.
15.
LATER - NIGHT Tim opens his eyes. Everything’s blurry. off the darkness.
Several candles try in vain to stave
TIM (weak) Please...I don’t want to die... Movement comes into his fuzzy view. Inches away, Lord Ruthven inspects Tim’s rag-bandaged head, disapproving Lord Ruthven is handsome, albeit pale, and wears rich, early nineteenth century clothing. His hair is perfectly trimmed. His eyes, cold-grey. Hypnotic. LORD RUTHVEN What is this melancholy that has seized upon your mind, my good man? TIM (weak) I want to live... LORD RUTHVEN Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of such dire news but your strength is rapidly decreasing and in only... He refers to a gold stopwatch. LORD RUTHVEN ...a few minutes, mortification will most assuredly ensue. TIM (weak) No... Please... He tries to sit up.
Lord Ruthven holds him down with ease.
From behind the vampyre come two silhouettes - Medusa and Frankenstein’s Monster. MEDUSA Leave him alone. LORD RUTHVEN Says the pretty snake to the handsome cat batting about the frightened mouse.
16.
Frankenstein’s Monster stands eight feet tall. He wears heavy, arctic-weather furs. His sickly yellow skin is pulled taut over a bony face, sewn together like a patchwork quilt. His hair is long and black, his lips, thin and cruel-looking. He kneels down before Tim, who looks into his filmy, watery eyes. His hideous face wrinkles into a grin. His voice registers low - powerful. Hello.
FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER My name is-
Tim looks away, disgusted. TIM Gah! FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER Why do you look upon me with such disdain and malignity? Silent and scared, Tim keeps his face turned away. Saddened, Frankenstein’s Monster rises - towers over Tim before lumbering back into the shadows. TIM What do you want with me? MEDUSA We are sorely in need of your assistance. TIM How?
Why?
MEDUSA I was led to you by several townsmen of your bizarre world. You are a learned scholar of legends are you not? TIM I teach mythology one-oh-one to a bunch of lazy kids. MEDUSA Then you do maintain a reservoir of knowledge and impart lessons to the lesser informed? TIM I...suppose. Why?
17.
MEDUSA There is a murderous beast let loose from whence we’ve come. LORD RUTHVEN But one not nearly as dashing as I. Lord Ruthven places a large, leather wrapping on a counter and unfurls it. Inside is a collection of ornate daggers, knives, ataghans, and their matching sheaths. TIM Come on, this has gone past assault. We’re talking false imprisonment territory here. The vampyre pulls one out - inspects the blade - shows Tim. As Lord Ruthven smiles, a row of sharp teeth is visible. MEDUSA (angry) Lord Ruthven, if you please! LORD RUTHVEN Lord Ruthven, Earl of Marsden, does not shrivel at the strident tones of a woman, whether she be a Gorgon witch or not! MEDUSA We have a task at hand. Lord Ruthven slides his finger along the blade - letting a crimson line slip forth. He licks his bloody finger. Smiles with red lips. LORD RUTHVEN It is difficult for me to fix my attention upon this “task at hand” whilst my mind retains an image that seems alone the rightful possessor of my thoughts. He approaches Tim - blade drawn. Frankenstein’s Monster watches Medusa and Lord Ruthven square off. Something dawns on Tim - he laughs. Oh!
TIM I get it!
18.
He stands, dizzy. TIM Eighteen-sixteen, Lake Geneva, Switzerland. Lord Byron, Mary Shelly, John Polidori and the birthplace of Gothic horror. Bravo! He holds the stained, curled-wallpaper wall for support. TIM Good show, especially the make-up on Harlem Globetrotter Frank over there. Very professional. Why Medusa though? LORD RUTHVEN The impudent mouse mocks us! TIM Sure, Percy Shelly wrote about Medusa but that’s a little tenuous don’t you think? I appreciate the gesture but I really need to get to a hospital. No harm, no foul. He stumbles for the exit. TIM I’m serious. Can you call me a cab? Drive me in my car? Medusa approaches Tim, her eyes hidden behind the sunglasses. Her head of snakes covered with the decorative wrapping. MEDUSA I am Medusa. Daughter of Phorcys and Ceto, sister toTIM And I’m Perseus, ready to smite theIn a second, she has a powerful hand around his throat. She squeezes - chokes him. Sharp fingernails dig into flesh. His fearful eyes bulge. Frankenstein’s Monster steps forward, silent. Ruthven smiles with a demented glee. MEDUSA Never say that name in my presence again. Is that understood?
Unsure.
Lord
19.
Tim chokes and gasps for air. MEDUSA Is it?! He nods, frantic. With her free hand, she removes the wrapping covering her head. It falls to the dirty floor - exposing her snakes. MEDUSA I am Medusa! Daughter of Phorcys and Ceto, sister to beloved Stheno and Euryale! Like a dreadful windy field of grass, the hungry vipers move in unison to strike at Tim’s exposed face. MEDUSA Ochi. Obedient, the snakes go limp and nestle amongst themselves. Tim tries to process what he sees. He can’t; his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints. As he drops, Frankenstein’s Monster catches him. EXT. MONSTERS’ HOUSE - TIM’S CAR - DAY Tim’s eyes flutter open.
He awakens with a violent shudder.
TIM No! He bolts upright inside his car as the morning sun greets him. His head is still bandaged with the dirty rag. He looks around, scared. Confused. He fumbles for his keys and starts the engine. Peels out of the driveway with the house safely in his rear view mirror. INT. TIM’S APARTMENT - DAY Tim lies on his couch, in a daze. it go unanswered.
His phone rings.
He lets
INT. TIM’S APARTMENT - NIGHT In darkness, Tim remains on his couch. staring at nothing. He hasn’t moved.
His eyes are open,
20.
INT. TIM’S APARTMENT - DAY The sun rises again. Tim is still on the couch. on - it catches his attention.
The TV is
The same REPORTER stands in front of a different bar - an upscale night club. Yellow police tape cordons off an alley. REPORTER (V.O.) ...where a town now held in the grip of fear has many questions but no answers. Only this time, there may be a clue. Local and state officials have released security camera footage which may provide much sought after leads. The image cuts from Reporter to a grainy night image of a street camera pointed in the general area of the night club. REPORTER (V.O.) What you’re about to see is quite disturbing so you may want to get children out of the room. Now watch the upper right corner of your screen, right here. In the upper right corner, a man and woman walk hand-in-hand towards the night club door, passing an alley. Tim leans in to see everything. As the couple pass the alley, a pixelated, indiscernible figure leaps out at them. It’s massive but humanoid. It pounces upon them and drags their limp bodies into the alley. The video is replayed, paused on the best angle of the attacker and zoomed in on - just a blurry, outline of a very large humanoid. REPORTER (V.O.) Officials have not released any statements on what this is so we are all left to watch, wait, and wonder where it will strike again.
