Anno Dracula (54 page)

She ducked under his hands, and was not there when he overbalanced, falling to the floor like a felled tree, marble cracking under his face. He was slow in his age, in his bloated state. Too much indulgence. Too much isolation. Veins in his neck burst, spurting blood, and knitted together again.

While Vlad Tepes was scrambling to right himself, the rest of his court were in confusion. Some returned to their bloody pleasure, some fell insensate.

She could do nothing for Beauregard.
§

Ruthven was uncertain. With the Queen truly dead, things were going to change. He could have barred her way from the palace, but he hesitated – ever the politician – then stood aside.

Merrick had the doors open for her, and she escaped from the infernal heat and stench of the throne-room. He then slammed the doors shut, and put his back to them. He had been part of Beauregard’s conspiracy, also willing to give his life for his sovereign. He nodded to the main doors, and made a long howl that might have meant ‘go’.

She saluted the man, and ran from the Palace. Outside, in the night, fires were burning high. The news would soon be spreading.

A spark had touched the gunpowder keg.

*
This is one tiny change made between ‘Red Reign’ and
Anno Dracula
. In the novella, Genevieve (who – like her extracontinual cousin in the Jack Yeovil books – didn’t have an accent) has met Dracula before, and always knew about his ambitions as a conqueror. In the novel, Geneviève and Dracula only know each other by reputation. The main reason for this alteration is that I needed to drop the roll-call of vampire hangers-on, since they all got their mentions elsewhere in the book.

§
Yes, in my first draft, Beauregard dies. When I came to it again, I felt we – and Geneviève – had come to know him too well to let him go so easily. I hadn’t outlined the subsequent books, so I didn’t know he would figure so largely in them.

Extracts from
Anno Dracula: The Movie

Shortly after
Anno Dracula
was published, I did a draft of a film script for producers Stuart Pollak and Andre Jacquemetton (who appear in
Johnny Alucard
). In this, I made a few tweaks to the plot and reordered the importance of some of the supporting characters. These extracts concentrate on scenes which are either original to the script or changed from the novel.

EXT. NIGHT.

A severed head, somewhat resembling Peter Cushing, is impaled on a spear. Exposed to the elements for a while, it is dilapidated. Pale moonlight emphasises hollow eyesockets. A wind blows.

A caption in Hammer Films Gothic crawls across the screen.

STENTORIAN NARRATOR

In 1885, Count Dracula travelled from his castle in Transylvania to London, intent on founding a new order of beings whose road leads through Death not Life. The story has it that Professor Van Helsing gathered together stalwart Englishmen and women to defeat the vampire, expelling him from these shores, ultimately destroying him. But what would London, what would the
world
, have been like if Van Helsing had failed? This is the city that might have been if the Count had prevailed. Dracula has taken by force Queen Victoria as his bride, and declared himself Prince Consort and Lord Protector of Great Britain and her Empire...

Music: the stirring preamble to ‘Rule Britannia’. A solo voice, strong
but feminine, begins ‘
When Britain first at Heaven’s command, arose from out the azure main, this was the charter, the charter of the land, and guardian angels sang this strain...
’

We pull back to see that the spear is one of a row standing outside Buckingham Palace. The building is illuminated by barbarian torches. Other poles support impaled corpses. At the doors stand wolf-faced guards in full uniform.

‘
Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, and Britons never never never shall be slaves...
’

EXT. BUCKINGHAM PALACE. NIGHT.

A heraldic shield: the lion and unicorn of Britain transformed into gape-mouthed monsters, overlaid with the bat standard of Dracula. This device is on the door of a carriage, drawn by black horses down the driveway. A GUARDSMAN salutes the carriage, He has a bestial snout, red eyes, vampire fangs. The main gates open, and the carriage trundles into Birdcage Walk.

EXT. LONDON. NIGHT.

The carriage proceeds through the streets. We glimpse scenes of a transformed Victorian London. Lamp-lighters touch sparks to gas-jets producing puffs of flame, well-dressed toffs bothered by street urchins, policemen march in pairs, an organ grinder plays for a horned imp. An effete DANDY, in extravagant black clothes, tries to fend off a plump WHORE: his face is skull-white but for penny-sized rouge spots on his cheeks; he too has fangs.

About a quarter of the people we see on the streets are vampires.

Some newly-raised from the dead, Victorians with large teeth; others are medieval monsters imported by Dracula. Some part-animal, others visibly decrepit or mutated, some lithe and alive in un-death. All eyes turn as the carriage passes. Some shrink in fear, some doff hats, others peer with curiosity. A WOMAN crosses herself; a POLICEMAN batters her with a truncheon.

At a crossroads, a party of Carpathian soldiers, directed by RUPERT OF HENTZAU
*
, a dashing vampire, erect a sharpened wooden stake. A CONDEMNED MAN, dressed in a nightshirt, struggles as the soldiers hoist him up and impale him on the stake. Blood gushes on the pavement. A vampire CHILD darts out of the crowd, laps it up like a dog, and is shooed away.

HENTZAU (reading aloud from a proclamation)

So perish all who defy the rule of Prince Dracula, Lord Protector of These Isles.

We rise above the coach as if on batwings, and look over the city. This is the West End, the well-lit civilised area, hectic with theatre crowds and night life. Human-sized wing-shapes flit between the taller buildings. The river, glinting red in the light as if its waters were blood, snakes through the city. This is the beating heart of an empire. We travel into the dark, away from the light.

EXT. WHITECHAPEL. NIGHT.

We descend into Commercial Road. Moonlight shines through thin wisps of fog on to wet cobbles. We pass a pub, the Ten Bells, from which raucous laughter and pianola music emerges. We pass Toynbee Hall,
an educational institute. We pass street people –urchins, policemen, whores, loafers, slummers. We slip up to an alley, where a woman’s voice sounds, a wordless ululation related to ‘Mack the Knife’. Fog swirls thicker. It is a rich yellow, with drifts of red.

We have been following a glimpsed, shadowy figure. JACK, a man in a top hat with a black ulster, carries a medical bag. We do not see his face§. His bag chinks, as implements shift inside. He wears black gloves. JACK pauses at the entrance to the alley, struck by the strange song.

His silhouette frames against a poster. REWARD OFFERED FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO THE ARREST OF ‘SILVER KNIFE’, THE WHITECHAPEL MURDERER. Small print details the murders of Annie Chapman and Polly Nicholls. The description is of JACK.

EXT. CHICKSAND STREET, WHITECHAPEL. NIGHT.

JACK steps into the alley. A shaft of moonlight spotlights LULU, a whore with Chinese bangs. She waves her shawl like the fronds of a sea anemone. Smiling with red lips, she continues her siren song. A tight kimono stretches over her boyish body. JACK steps towards her.

JACK clutches his bag.

LULU (slight German accent)

Mister,
misssster
... Such a handsome gentleman. Come and kiss me, sir. Just a little kiss.

LULU beckons, lacquered nails glittering. JACK touches her face. Even through gloves, her skin is ice. She has delicate pearl-chip
fangs, and a red cast to her eyes.

JACK

What brought you to this... condition?

LULU

Good fortune and kind gentlemen.

JACK

Kind?

LULU produces a sprig of mistletoe and holds it up.

LULU

A kiss, kind sir. It’s just a penny for a kiss.

JACK

It’s early for Christmas. September.

LULU

Always time for a kiss.

LULU shakes her sprig and kisses JACK on the lips. His bag is open. He puts a silvered scalpel into her ribs, pressing lightly. LULU changes, face distorting catlike as she hisses venom in JACK’s face. Her fangs extend; she is ready to rip out his throat. The scalpel slides into her chest and blood gushes.

We pull back, as JACK incises deeper. LULU’s animal howls disturb the fog. Then, stillness and quiet. We focus on the poster.

JACK staggers past, leaving a bloody handprint on the poster. In the distance, a police whistle shrills.

DRAWING ROOM, CHELSEA. INT. NIGHT.

The whistle fades into a piano, played not quite expertly. In the home of FLORENCE STOKER, about fifteen well-dressed men and women gather for a soirée. At the piano is PENELOPE CHURCHWARD, 19, a pretty, calculating girl. Beside her, turning the pages, is ARTHUR HOLMWOOD, Lord Godalming, an elegant new-born vampire.

PENELOPE (sings)

She was only a bird in a gilded cage,

A beautiful sight to see,

You thought she was happy and free from

care,

But she’s not what she seems to be...
(etc)

Watching is CHARLES BEAUREGARD, a handsome man in his 30s, less flashy but more stalwart than ARTHUR. By him is KATE REED, 25; a bespectacled new woman (a journalist) rather than an ornament (like PENELOPE). FLORENCE, older than PENELOPE but of the same type, presides. A black-bordered picture of BRAM STOKER, her husband, stands on the mantel. To CHARLES’s well-concealed dislike, ARTHUR tries to exert his power of fascination over PENELOPE. KATE has a crush on CHARLES but realises she has no chance. Discreet servants attend.

PENELOPE (sings)

... for youth should not mate with age.

Her beauty was sold for an old man’s

gold.

She’s a bird in a gilded cage.

ARTHUR, leading the clapping, nuzzles nearer PENELOPE’s exposed neck, tiny fangs poking through his subtle leer. CHARLES steps in, to KATE’s disappointment, and steers PENELOPE out of social danger. PENELOPE accepts all attentions as her due.

FLORENCE (fussing)

Dear friends, dear friends, an announcement is imminent. Charles, Penelope...

CHARLES is reluctant, PENELOPE eager. They are the centre of attention, which he dislikes and she adores.

CHARLES

Very well, Florence. Since Arthur’s ennoblement as Lord Godalming, I am forced to preface my announcement with the traditional address, my
lords
, ladies and gentlemen...

ARTHUR

Come on, Beauregard. Out with it.

CHARLES

Penelope, ah, Miss Churchward... has done me the honour...

Everybody knows what he means, but he can’t quite say it.

PENELOPE (impatient)

We’re to be married. In the Spring. Next year.

PENELOPE holds CHARLES’s hand, proprietorially. Everyone gathers and makes a fuss.

ARTHUR (shaking CHARLES’s hand crushingly)

Congratulations, old man.

KATE, in tears, hugs PENELOPE.

PENELOPE

Oh Kate, don’t be such a drip.

KATE shakes CHARLES’s hand, unable to speak, then hugs him too.

FLORENCE

There must be a toast.

BESSIE, a maid, brings out a bottle of champagne. FLORENCE holds it up, and ARTHUR takes it.

ARTHUR

Allow me.

FLORENCE

Thank you, Art. I’m so feeble.

ARTHUR’s thumbnail extends like a tiny horn. He hooks it into the cork and flips it out of the bottle. He pours for everyone, but holds up an empty glass himself.

ARTHUR

For me, this is a sad moment. I’ve lost again to my good friend Charles Beauregard. I shall never recover, but I acknowledge Charles as the better man. I trust he will serve my dearest Penny as a husband should. If he fails in his duty, I shall myself, being un-dead, take seriously my obligation to haunt him to the grave. To the beautiful Penelope, and the admirable Charles...

Everyone except ARTHUR drinks the toast. PENELOPE relishes it, CHARLES puts up with it. FLORENCE notices ARTHUR’s empty glass.

FLORENCE

I am so sorry, Art. I was forgetting.

ARTHUR

There’s no need.

FLORENCE

But I insist. Bessie, Lord Godalming doesn’t drink champagne. Would you...

BESSIE, a little frightened, has been through this before. She unbuttons her cuffs. ARTHUR takes her wrist, rolling up the sleeve, and bends as if to kiss her hand. He looks at CHARLES and
PENELOPE, eyes flashing red, teeth extending.

ARTHUR

Charles, Penelope, I drink to you...

Opening his mouth wide on jaw-hinges like a cobra, ARTHUR fastens on BESSIE’s wrist, lightly puncturing the skin. He licks away a blood trickle. The company watch, CHARLES swallowing distaste, PENELOPE fascinated. ARTHUR drinks. BESSIE, eyes fluttering somewhere between pain and pleasure, swoons in ARTHUR’s arms.

ARTHUR (smiling bloodily)

I have this effect on women. It’s most inconvenient.

He deposits BESSIE on a divan. In the background, a BUTLER waves smelling salts under her nose, reviving her. PENELOPE links arms with CHARLES, who is momentarily distracted. She smiles, and he is jollied out of his perturbation.

FLORENCE

Now, now. There’ll be plenty of time for that after the wedding. In the mean time, you must be unselfish and share yourselves with the rest of us...

ARTHUR

I claim my right as the vanquished sir knight. A kiss! I claim a kiss from the bride.

CHARLES blanches but PENELOPE lets ARTHUR kiss her cheek,
leaving an unremarked blush of blood. Guests press around, separating PENELOPE from CHARLES. He watches her display her engagement ring. Suddenly, swiftly, disturbingly, ARTHUR is beside him. His fangs are vestigial, but the blood has enlivened him.

ARTHUR

Sincerely, Charles, my congratulations. You and Penny must be happy. It is an order. We need more like you. You must turn soon. Things are getting exciting.