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Authors: Ken Russell

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A narrow shaft of sunlight beams
through a crack in the curtains and falls directly on the face of the sleeping
DR. SEWARD. His eyes blink open, dazzled, and a moment later he is out of bed
and pulling the curtains on a brilliant sunrise. For a moment he is totally
disorientated then remembering the events of yesterday with horror, he quickly
slips a dressing gown over his pyjamas and hurries from the room.

 

INT. SANATORIUM CORRIDOR.
DAY.

 

Deeply concerned, DR. SEWARD runs
down the corridor and flings open Lucy’s door and enters.

 

INT. LUCY’S WARD. DAY.

 

The room is deserted. The bed is
empty, neat and tidy and newly made up.DR.SEWARD gazes around him uncompre-
hendingly until a footfall in the corridor fetches him to the door.

 

INT. CORRIDOR. DAY.

 

NURSE DANVERS stops in her tracks
and looks nervously at DR. SEWARD who speaks to her as if in a dream.

 

DR. SEWARD

Why have you moved Miss

Weber?

 

Pulling herself together Nurse
Danvers speaks as evenly as possible.

 

NURSE DANVERS

Miss Weber died sir,

at 4:30 this morning.

 

Dr. Seward acts as if shot.

 

CUT TO:

 

INT. THE S.S. DEMETER. DAY.

 

The ship’s cat follows at the heels
of QUINCEY MORRIS who, pleased as punch, strides the deck of his prize packet
giving instructions to a DAPPER LITTLE MAN in a bowler hat carrying a large
account book.

 

QUINCEY

... and I want every single

item on board evaluated

from the crow’s nest right

down to the ship’s cat.

 

LITTLE MAN

That will take some little

time, Mister Morris. Lloyds

of London would be able to

give you an immediate

estimate, I’m ...

 

QUINCEY

I want an accurate

assessment, sir, not an

immediate estimate. If that

had been the case I wouldn’t

have wasted a whole day

tracking you down. Now are

you the best auctioneers

and valuers in these here

parts, or are you not?

 

LITTLE MAN

(
servile
)

Indubitably Mr. Morris,

and very grateful of your

patronage I’m sure.

It’s just so difficult to

know where to make a start.

 

QUINCEY

Then start at the top

and work down, sir.

 

LITTLE MAN

Even the flags Mr. Morris?

 

Quincey glances up at the flags
indicated by the Little Man.

 

QUINCEY

Even so ...

 

Then he does a double take at the
four flags flying at the masthead.

 

QUINCEY

Can you figure out their

meanin’, sir?

 

LITTLE MAN

(
superciliously
)

Only their value,

Mr. Morris.

 

As the Little Man resigns himself
to making a start on the formidable inventory, Quincey makes his way to the
front of the mainmast where is situated the flag locker, a simple wooden
structure of pigeon holes containing a different flag for each letter of the
alphabet. As he suspected, four flags are missing. A, C, L and Y. It takes only
a second to rearrange them to read the message flying at the masthead for all
to see. Quincey becomes thought- ful and then annoyed with himself.

 

QUINCEY

(quietly)

C-L-A-Y. Ah’ think the

Captain was tryin’ to tell

ya’ somethin’ yesterday.

Quincey m’ boy ...

(
he glances down

into the hold
)

But you was too busy lookin’

down when you should’a been

a lookin’ up.

 

He looks to the masthead once more
where the dead man’s message is triumphantly flying in the wind.

 

EXT. SOUTHAMPTON QUAYSIDE.
DAY.

 

TWO sweating LABOURERS have paused
in their exertions of loading heavy sacks onto a cart for a word with QUINCEY
who listens attentively.

 

FIRST LABOURER

Fifty odd boxes is correct,

gov’nor, and main and mortal

heavy they were too.

Shiftin’ that lot were

thirsty work I can tell you.

 

SECOND LABOURER

It were ‘ard lines there

wasn’t no gentleman such,

like yourself to show some

sort of appreciation of our

efforts in liquid form,

Squire. We’re so dry we can

‘ardly talk, still.

 

QUINCEY

Here, take a gargle –

on the house.

 

He flicks a coin to the SECOND
LABOURER who winks at his mate.

 

SECOND LABOURER

Thanks, Squire, that’ll

‘elp lay the dust.

 

FIRST LABOURER

Blimey, it were that thick;

you could ‘ave slep’ on it

without ‘urting yer bones.

 

SECOND LABOURER

Not that you’d want to,

mind! Me and me mate we

thought we wouldn’t never

get out that old chapel

quick enough.

 

FIRST LABOURER

Took the cake it did Lor’!

I wouldn’t take less nor a

quid to stay there after

dark. I was that relieved

when we turned the lock on

it, I can’t tell you.

 

QUINCEY

What about the key?

Describe it.

 

SECOND LABOURER

It were a queer design

on a big rusty ring.

 

FIRST LABOURER

We dropped it through the

letter box of the big house

as per Mr. Quennel’s

instructions.

 

He nods to the man in question who
is hurrying out of a nearby building towards them carrying a sheaf of papers.

 

MR. QUENNEL

No order form, no receipt,

Mr. Morris. The cashier

received payment for express

delivery to Carfax in cash.

The customer was new and

unknown to her. A tall

gentleman in black with a

foreign accent according to

her recollection. He gave

her the key and instructions

which I, in turn, passed on

to the men. We did right

I trust in shipping

the consignment?

 

Quincey is still annoyed at his own
negligence.

 

QUINCEY

Yeah, I gave him the

go-ahead myself.

 

MR. QUENNEL

Is there anything further

we can do for you?

 

QUINCEY

Just put me on the road

to Carfax and make sure it

passes a kiddie’s toy store

on the way.

 

The men look at Quincey in amazement.

 

EXT. CARFAX ESTATE. DAY.

 

QUINCEY walks up the steps of the
shuttered house and halts at the front door. From a coloured paper bag he takes
a child’s periscope - a slim cardboard affair housing an angled mirror at
either end. Pushing it half-way through the horizontal letter box he peers in
to observe the floor inside the house, adjusting the toy a little in the
process.

 

INSERT: Dusty floorboards on which rests
an old key affixed to a rusty ring.

 

Quincey straightens up and takes a
box out of the bag containing a child’s fishing rod. He assembles it quickly
and inserts it into the letter box and with the aid of the periscope manages to
hook the ring, wind it up to the opening and extract it with a little smile at
his own ingenuity. Satisfied that no one is watching, he puts his toys back in
their bag and sets off in search of:

 

THE CHAPEL:

 

Surrounded by brambles and covered
by creeper, this Gothic edifice presents a daunting aspect to QUINCEY as he
approaches it in the light of the setting sun. The key fits, the lock turns. He
pushes the door open and enters.

 

INT. CHAPEL. DUSK.

 

A state of decay, if not absolute
ruin is an ominous setting for the fifty boxes stacked in the form of an
unusual pyramid. Saints in niches gaze stonily down at QUINCEY as he takes a
crowbar from his bag and prepares to prize open the first casket until the
sound of something approaching through the undergrowth sends him diving for cover.
The dishevelled figure of RENFIELD enters carrying the limp, dead body of the
GARDENER’S BOY which he offers up with tear-stained eyes to the topmost casket
of the pile.

 

RENFIELD

Oh Master, even as Abraham

was called by God to take

his son Isaac into the

wilderness as holy

sacrifice, so I, your

servant Renfield, offer up

the body of this youth to

the eternal glory of thy

blessed name. Give me the

kiss of peace that I may

forever walk in your shadow

and drink the blood of life

everlasting ...

 

As Renfield drops his head in
humility he notices something which gives him pause - wet footprints leading
behind an adjacent tomb. Continuing his prayers so as to allay suspicion,
Renfield gently lays the body down and poises himself for the attack.

 

RENFIELD

... for as Saul slew in his

thousands, David slew in his

tens of thousands ...

 

With a spring like a wildcat he is
over the top and tearing at Quincey, taken completely off his guard. Despite
the fact that the Texan is as tough as nails he is no match for the madmen
imbued with super-strength. After a short, fierce struggle, Quincey manages to
slip from his grasp only to be caught, seconds later, in his flight up the
crazy pyramid as the last rays of the dying sun slide down the topmost casket.

 

RENFIELD

And as the sun goes down on

the death of another day let

the sight of the Lord of

Darkness shine forth in all

its majesty bringing light

to the sons and daughters

of darkness who forever

perpetuate his glory by

draining the unrighteous of

all sin, and converting them

to life eternal that they

may sing his praise forever,

and ever, amen, amen ...

 

Renfield continually repeats himself
as he forces the struggling Quincey towards the topmost casket, the lid of
which is slowing beginning to rise, emitting a fantastical light of
supernatural power. Simultaneously there is an enormous inrush of air which
causes the stained glass in all the windows to crack and disintegrate, the
organ pipes to scream and centuries of dust to spin in a glittering whirlwind.
Gradually, Renfield forces Quincey closer and closer to the blinding light of
the casket until he sees inside DRACULA, whose skeleton is pulsating through
his clothed body like an atomic x-ray. Now the heart is seen beating and the
blood racing through his veins. Now his eyes flicker open, now his lips are
bared, revealing the pointed teeth, now a smile of anticipation as he starts to
rise up towards the bared flesh of Quincey’s throat held in the lunatic’s grip
of iron.

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