01x01 - Night Work

Episode transcripts for the 2014 TV show "Penny Dreadful". Aired May 11, 2014 - June 19, 2016.*
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Explorer Sir Malcolm Murray, American gunslinger Ethan Chandler, and others unite to combat supernatural threats in Victorian London.
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01x01 - Night Work

Post by bunniefuu »

(Dog barks in the distance)

(Distant knocking)

(Woman shivers, glass shatters)

(Dog barks in the distance)

(Wind whistles outside)

(Match strikes)

(Flame catches, woman shivers)

(Door clicks and creaks open)

(Shivering)

(Floorboards creak underfoot)

(Door creaks shut)

(Shivering)

(Wind howls)

(Clothing rustles)

(Shivering)

(Urine tinkles, woman shivers)

(Tapping and scraping sounds, woman's breath catches)

(Glass shatters)

(Gasps awake)

Mum?

(Bed springs creak, girl shivers)

(Shaky, shallow breaths)

Mum?

(Door creaks open)

(Shaky, shallow breaths, floorboards creak underfoot)

Mum?

(Shaky, shallow breaths, floorboards creak underfoot)

(Door creaks open)

(Terrified, horror-filled scream)

(Fervent praying in Latin)

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.

Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Lesus.

Sancta Maria, mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.

Benedicta tu in...

(Gasps)

(Ominous voice whispers softly)

(Woman shudders, ominous whispers continue)

(Ominous voices whisper)

(Distant sobbing, high-pitched scream)

(Woman sobbing)

(Distant sobs and tormented screams)

OMINOUS DEEP VOICE: Soon, child, soon.

(Shaky, shallow breaths)

OMINOUS DEEP VOICE: I'm hungry...

(Low, threatening growl)

(Hammer clicks, g*nsh*t blasts)

(Items shatter, g*nshots blast)

(Cheering and applause, music plays)

ETHAN: Just about then...

I seen big old Crazy Horse himself, riding up with his band of bloodthirsty Sioux K*llers.

(Crowd cheers, g*nsh*t blasts)

(Items shatter, g*nshots blast repeatedly)

(Crowd oohs and ahhs, g*nshots blast)

(Bell dings, crowd applauds)

MAN: Applaud the man!

(Crowd laughs and whistles)

General Custer gave the word, his blond hair flapping in the breeze like something from myth.

Says he: "Stand here and fight, boys, fight for your very lives!"

(Applause and cheering)

And so fight I did.

(Horseshoe whooshes, three rapid-fire blasts)

(b*ll*ts ping)

(Applause)

One of the few survivors who lived to bring you this tale of pluck and daring.

(Applause and cheering)

(Festive music starts)

Thanks for coming out today and I hope that I have found some favor among you estimable gentlemen...and ladies.

(Applause and cheering)

(g*nsh*t blasts, woman gasps in surprise)

(Crowd gasps, applauds vigorously)

YOUNG WOMAN: (Moaning and gasping)

Yeah!

(Moaning and gasping)

(Grunting and gasping)

Yeah!

(Moaning and gasping)

(Grunting and gasping)

YOUNG WOMAN: Will I see you again?

(Under his breath)

No.

Would that I could. Show's heading off to Paris.

So many details to attend to... You understand.

The life of a theatrical gentleman is peripatetic, darlin'.

But I was under...

(Smothering kiss)

(Men chatter nearby, church bells ring)

Just know that you have made my visit here truly memorable.

I shall never forget you.

Perhaps you'd like to know my name then.

(Amused snort)

(Glasses clink)

(Footsteps scuff, low hum of chatter)

WOMAN: You didn't tell the truth.

By my reckoning, you were a boy when General Custer d*ed and 'tis well known there were no survivors.

ETHAN: What we call a tall tale, darlin'.

WOMAN: Exceedingly tall.

ETHAN: Vice of my nation. We're storytellers.

Join me, won't you?

You saw my exhibition?

Highly impressive, especially your finale.

ETHAN: Well, you gotta leave them wanting more, as we say in show business.

And what might I do for you?

I have a need for some night work.

Oh, honey, don't we all?

I have a need for a gentleman who's comfortable with firearms and not hesitant to engage in dangerous endeavors or was all that a tall tale as well?

What do you think?

Expensive watch, but threadbare jacket.

Sentimental about the money you used to have.

Your eye is steady, but your left hand tremors.

That's the drink, so you keep it below the table, hoping I won't notice.

You have a contusion healing on your other hand, the result of a recent brawl with a jealous husband, no doubt.

Your boots are good quality leather, but have been resoled more than once.

I see a man who's been accustomed to wealth, but has given himself to excess and the unbridled pleasures of youth.

A man much more complicated than he likes to appear.

So, it's a job, this "night work?"

Yes.

Something of a criminal setup?

Would it matter?

Not at all.

Then why ask?

Show's heading off to Paris, pretty soon.

The job's tonight.

Is it a m*rder?

Would it matter?

One smile and I say yes.

Meet me at this address at eleven o'clock.

I don't know London.

Then ask a policeman.

You have a name?

WOMAN: Yes.

(Loud buzz of chatter in the streets)

BOY: Clear off, Johnny!

(Horse whinnies)

(Baby wails)

Mr. Chandler.

I didn't expect you to be on time.

Oh, I never keep a lady waiting.

WOMAN: Very wise. This way please.

(Footsteps clack, cat meows nearby)

(Knocks on door)

(Door clanks open)

(Footsteps echo)

(Door slams shut)

(Chime tinkles, voices murmur quietly)

(Light ringing sound, flame sizzles)

(Puffing)

(Voices murmur quietly, someone coughs)

(Approaching footsteps)

This is the individual?

Yes.

Did you bring your weapons?

ETHAN: One-one minute.

What're we doing here?

SIR MALCOLM: We're looking for someone.

More than that, you don't need to know.

Do not be amazed at anything you see and don't hesitate.

(Footsteps echo)

ETHAN: Who exactly are we looking for?

Someone very dear to me who's been taken.

(Door latch clunks)



That which you serve, we seek.

(Speaks in Arabic)

OLDER GENTLEMAN: (Responds in Arabic)

FAMILIAR: (Speaks in Arabic)

OLDER GENTLEMAN: (Speaks angrily in Arabic)

GIRL: (Gasps dramatically, then giggles)

(Footsteps shuffle)

(att*ck cry, hard punch)

(Familiars growl menacingly)

(Fighting grunts and growls)

(g*nsh*t blasts)

(Tormented wailing echoes around the room)

(g*nshots blast, fighting grunts)

(att*ck growl, punching thuds)

(Sobs echo, g*nshots blast)

(Pained grunt, sobs echo)

(Familiar growls, g*nshots blast)

(Familiar grunts, high-pitched sob echoes)

(g*nshots blast in the distance)

(Tormented wailing echoes around the room)

(Punching thuds)

(Struggling grunts, g*nsh*t blasts)

(Struggling grunts)

(att*ck cry, familiar shrieks)

(Body thuds heavily)

(Hissing nearby, Ethan exhales sharply)

(Gurgled snarl)

(Low growl)

(g*nsh*t blasts, body thumps heavily)

(Exhales sharply, panting)

(Distant sobbing)

(Blood drips)

(Footsteps squelch through entrails)

(Footsteps squelch)

(Approaching footsteps)

Where is she?

Little girls shouldn't play with toys like that.

WOMAN: Where is your master?

Closer than you think.

Would you like to meet him?

(g*nsh*t blasts, familiar groans)

(g*nsh*t blasts, body thumps heavily)

(Footsteps squelch through entrails)

It's not her.

(Rustling sound)

(Cocks p*stol)

(Rat squeaks)

(Vicious snarl)

(Snarls menacingly)

(Body thuds)

(Snarls menacingly)

(g*nshots fire)

ETHAN: Agghhh!

(Wood splinters and crashes)

(Snarls ferociously)

(Sword blade rings, vampire snarls)

(Startled growl)

(Hissed scream)

(Sword clanks, body crashes heavily)

She's not here.

OLDER GENTLEMAN: There must be another.

WOMAN: Another creature?

OLDER GENTLEMAN: Is there another?

Is there another creature like that?

SOMNOLENT WOMAN: (Hisses)

ETHAN: Jesus Christ!

Don't move, Mr. Chandler. This night's not over.

Help us, please.

(Feral hissing and screaming)

(Sword strikes, high-pitched screams)

(Screams reverberate and fill the night)

(Squishy, gelatinous sound)

ETHAN: What is this place?

Where the resurrection men ply their trade.

The surgeons must supply their students with ample subjects.

When the legal channels are exhausted, they're forced to resort to other means.

I'm in need of your services, sir.

PROPRIETOR: Tisn't from the river?

They're useless once them fishes got 'em.

Not the river, no.

PROPRIETOR: Well, that's a blessing.

Bring it round the back and see if my assistant can take you.

(Cart rattles)

OLDER GENTLEMAN: Your master said you might assist us.

YOUNG DOCTOR: I have no master.

OLDER GENTLEMAN: The proprietor out front, I mean.

Go away.

I'll pay you for your time.

You'd not afford it.

You're very proud.

Take it to a slaughterhouse. I'm not a medical practitioner.

I'm engaged in research.

ETHAN: You're a man with a bloody Kn*fe like everybody else out there, so stop putting on airs.

American?

ETHAN: You are clever.

Do you know anything about electrical currents?

Your country is making such strides as we labor in the dark ages of coal and peat.

Have you any experience with the principles and applications of galvanism?

Oh, the usual.

Sir, I have urgent need of an necropsy. Will you assist us?

I am occupied solely in research.

I will not bore myself with explanations you could not possibly understand.

Now, kindly, stop wasting my time and get out!

(Footsteps echo lightly)

(Tool clatters)

(Shocked whisper)

My God.

Lividity, null.

Rigor mortis, null.

Notable ocular hyperemia.

Ocular reaction, null.

Dental malformation, not naturally occurring due to the isotropy.

Nature's rarely so neat.

Nature abhors symmetry.

Trauma and penetration of the chest cavity through the manubrium seems the likely cause of death, but I expect you know that.

Age of the subject is impossible to determine.

The teeth seem barely used, which seems unlikely given the... muscular development.

The dermis is unusual.

Seems to lack the normal cutaneous eccrine pores.

Hand me that.

(Slicing, cracking sound)

Well, I know why the skin seems peculiar.

OLDER GENTLEMAN: Why?

Forceps.

Because it isn't skin.

Not as we know it.

It's more like a... tensile exoskeleton, along the lines of an insect or crustacean.

He must have been a hearty devil.

ETHAN: You're not kidding.

Hold on, what's this?

Fascinating.

Hieroglyphics.

YOUNG DOCTOR: Egyptian?

OLDER GENTLEMAN: Undoubtedly.

Well, it would appear you have an Egyptian man of no particular age, who, at some point in his indeterminate lifespan, decided to sharpen his teeth, cover himself in hieroglyphics and grow an exoskeleton.

Or you have something else altogether.

Who the f*ck are you people?

Do you know Grandage Place in Westminster?

I can find it.

Number eight. Come at noon tomorrow.

Unless you'd rather spend the rest of your life sh**ting clay targets and telling lies.

(Cart rattles)

(Low hum of chatter)

MAN: No, no, she's gone!

WOMAN: Says she heard something last night.

MAN: Really?

WOMAN: But she didn't see nothing.

(Bell tolls, blood drips, flies buzz mercilessly)

GALSWORTHY: Carnage.

CONSTABLE: Sir?

GALSWORTHY: It's like a b*ttlefield.

PHOTOGRAPHER: You want it all?

GALSWORTHY: Everything.

PHOTOGRAPHER: Even her?

GALSWORTHY: Especially her.

PHOTOGRAPHER: Doesn't seem right.

Where's the dignity in that?

(Constable vomits)

GALSWORTHY: We'll get her dignity back when we've caught this monster.

(Flashlamp bursts repeatedly)

(Carriage rattles, hooves clop)

(Horse whinnies, low hum of chatter)

(Low hum of chatter)


(Door clicks open)

Ethan Chandler to see Sir Malcolm.

I'm expected.

Come in.

(Door clunks shut)

(Footsteps scuff)

Wait here, please.

(Footsteps retreat)

(Footsteps echo lightly)

WOMAN: Not what you expected?

You've a light step, miss.

Or is it ma'am?

WOMAN: Miss Vanessa Ives.

Come this way, won't you?

(Footsteps tap lightly, door creaks shut)

(Door clicks shut)

May I offer you some tea?

ETHAN: No thanks.

So you're a fortune reader?

VENESSA: The term is inadequate.

ETHAN: Spiritualist?

VANESSA: If you like.

Rapping on the table? Voices from the great beyond?

Not precisely.

You're a skeptic.

ETHAN: Not about everything.

Last night, for example.

And you want an explanation?

I think I should see Sir Malcolm.

I can speak for him.

Do you believe there is a demimonde, Mr. Chandler?

A half world between what we know and what we fear?

A place in the shadows, rarely seen, but deeply felt.

Do you believe that?

Yes.

That's where we were last night, where some unfortunate souls are cursed to live always.

If you believe in curses, that is.

(Cards rasp)

Are you a wise man, Mr. Chandler?

Not especially.

A wise man would walk away from this house and make a concerted effort to forget everything that occurred last night.

He would not look back.

That sounds like a warning.

It's an invitation.

Should you be so unwise as to entertain the idea, we have continued use of a man of your skills.

Your kind of man.

ETHAN: And what kind is that?

VANESSA: One of great v*olence and hidden depths.

You play your role well, Mr. Chandler, but this is not who you are.

Tell me what this is all about.

Sir Malcolm's daughter was taken by a creature such as the one we k*lled.

We didn't suspect there was another.

There's much we don't know and must discover.

ETHAN: And what's your part in all this?

My part is my own.

I've been a hired g*n before.

Doesn't suit me.

There's no exaltation in k*lling for gold.

A wise man after all.

Sembene has your money at the door. He'll show you out.

I hope you enjoy your life as an actor.

It seems to be what you're suited for.

But if you find yourself in that demimonde we spoke of, and seek to escape it, you know my address.

And what do you seek to escape?

Perhaps the same thing you do.

We all have our curses, don't we?

Good day, Mr. Chandler.

Miss Ives.

Before you go, one last task, if you'll indulge me: pick a card.

No, no, not like that. Not impulsively, not without thought.

Let them work on you.

Look into my eyes.

Believe.

(Nervous breath)

(Fire crackles)

(Card rasps)

(Approaching footsteps)

SIR MALCOLM: Was he tempted?

VANESSA: Intrigued, I would say.

SIR MALCOLM: Then he'll be back.

He's intending to leave town.

He won't. We won't let him.

I'll require you in an hour.

We have an appointment.

Where are we going?

Amongst dead things.

(Receding footsteps)

(Horse whinnies, bell tolls)

NEWSVENDOR: Mother and daughter butchered in east end horror!

BOY: Westminster Guardian. Only a penny!

NEWSVENDOR 2: Undone in Spitalfields.

Police fear Ripper is back!

(Object clunks, loud knock)

(Latch clicks, door squeaks open)

ASSISTANT: Sir...

Sir Malcolm Murray is outside.

The Malcolm Murray?

Oh...

(Excited chuckle)

I am extravagantly pleased. Do show him in.

And stand up straight, Felix.

You look like an orangutan.

SIR MALCOLM: Mr. Lyle.

LYLE: Sir Malcolm. Oh, it is you!

The photograph in your book does you no justice, but do they ever?

Say you'll inscribe it for me. Say you will.

Your book, I mean. And something deeply personal.

It would be a pleasure.

This is Miss Vanessa Ives.

Could I be more charmed? No, I could not.

And what brings you to the humble confines of the Department of Egyptian and Assyrian Antiquities?

Though, really, it's only Egyptian.

We don't quite approve the Assyrians, do we?

Sit down, do.

VANESSA: What are these?

LYLE: Oh, carrion beetles.

We employ them when the usual solvents are deemed too abrasive.

They eat the flesh, don't you know.

Sorry, my dear, it's a bit ghoulish to the lay-person.

Very exotic. Where do they come from?

Actually, Waveney, in Suffolk.

VANESSA: Not exotic at all.

SIR MALCOLM: Mr. Lyle, I was hoping you could assist me.

I've a bit of hieroglyphics in need of translating.

LYLE: These aren't from a scroll. What are they?

They're from a tattoo on a corpse.

Oh, that's outre.

What have you got for me then?

Late hieratic script.

18th dynasty, perhaps earlier.

It's a standard funerary text.

(Agitated chirps, wings b*at furiously)

Conjoined in this fashion, they translate roughly to an idea meaning "blood cure" or "blood transformation."

Although there's a theory it's something more along the lines of a malediction: "A blood curse."

Trust me, those Egyptians were a bit madcap when it came to specifics. It's all very metaphoric.

(Ominous music plays)

Are there more of these?

Yes.

I should like to see them, but not here.

The British museum is no place for actual scholarship, after all.

Perish the thought.

And before I engage in professional matters, I feel it is vital to engage in social congress.

Get to know the sort of people one is working with, you understand?

My wife and I entertain on occasion.

Lavishly, you can be sure, as she's absurdly rich.

We're having a little fete, Friday next.

Perhaps you and Miss Ives could join us?

SIR MALCOLM: This is a matter of some urgency.

Good heavens, Sir Malcolm, there hasn't been anything urgent about the Egyptians for 2000 years.

And I'm dreadfully busy now, you understand.

Ever so many papyri to translate.

Isn't that a delicious word?

Papyri.

Sounds like something eaten by little Persian boys, doesn't it?

So I shall see you Friday next.

As you say.

LYLE: Grand. It's resolved.

Bring the rest of the photographs with you and we'll take a peek.

Entre nous, don't you know?

Such an infinite pleasure meeting you both.

Our pleasure, Mr. Lyle.

Good day, good day.

I do assume you know the source of the writing?

No.

It's from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.

(Footsteps recede, door clicks shut)

(Bell tolls, dog barks, excited buzz of chatter)

(Baby wails)

CONSTABLE 1: Keep clear.

(Low hum of chatter)

CONSTABLE: Stay there.

WOMAN 1: Look at that blood. Think they suffered much?

WOMAN 2: Bloody right, they did. And that little girl too.

WOMAN 1: She was expecting another, you know.

WOMAN 2: Don't say it.

WOMAN 1: Just starting to show. Picking out names, she was.

WOMAN 2: Is it the Ripper come back?

WOMAN 1: Who else but old Jack?

WOMAN 2: Damn him that did it. Right to hell.

(On-lookers chatter, dog barks nearby)

(Street buzzes with chatter, baby cries)

(Wagon rattles, hooves clop loudly)

(Horse snorts)

(Men groan and yell nearby)

MAN: I haven't seen him, Maud!

(Door slams heavily, baby wails, people shout)

(Footsteps clomp loudly)

(Baby cries, man coughs, low hum of chatter)

(Knocking)

(Loud knocking)

(Door creaks shut, locks latch)

(False door groans shut)

(Knocking)

(Door creaks open)

A delivery for you.

From Sir Malcolm Murray.

(Door clunks shut)

(Dog barks outside)

__

(Door closes heavily)

MAN 1: Concentrating around the north side, and then moving slowly south, here.

(Men talk quietly)

MAN 1: That's right.

YOUNG DOCTOR: Sir Malcolm.

SIR MALCOLM: Doctor.

YOUNG DOCTOR: So you're the explorer?

I've made one or two modest discoveries.

There's a Murray mountain in the eastern regions of the Belgian Congo, if you're ever in the vicinity.

Not the tallest mountain, to be sure, but not the smallest either.

Hmm.

I've spent most of my life in Africa, beholding wonders.

I was surprised to get your note.

You seem a man who holds his secrets fast.

I wasn't going to come.

But you couldn't resist.

When you see a river, you must follow it to its source, no matter the perils, no matter those comrades that fall along the way.

You must know how things work.

You must unlock.

You are dissatisfied always.

Are you dissatisfied?

SIR MALCOLM: I'm seeking.

YOUNG DOCTOR: What?

Perhaps the same as you.

Mm, I seek the truth.

Ah, you're a very young man.

I've long since learned that truth is mutable.

Perhaps we view science differently.

Do we?

I would never chart a river or scale a peak to take its measure or plant a flag. There's no point.

It's solipsistic self-aggrandizement.

So too those scientists who study the planets seeking astronomical enlightenment for its own sake.

The botanist studying the variegation of an Amazonian fern.

The zoologist caught up in the endless fascination of an adder's coils.

And for what?

Knowledge for itself alone?

The elation of discovery?

Plant your flag on the truth?

There is only one worthy goal for scientific exploration...

(whispers) piercing the tissue that separates life from death.

Everything else, from the deep bottom of the sea to the top of the highest mountain on the farthest planet, is insignificant.

Life and death, Sir Malcolm.

The flicker that separates one from the other, fast as a bat's wing, more beautiful than any sonnet.

That is my river.

That is my mountain.

There I will plant my flag.

You have the soul of a poet, sir.

And the bank account to match.

Now why did you want to see me, Sir Malcolm?

SIR MALCOLM: You tell me.

Last night, of course.

The body you bought was not, strictly speaking, human.

No.

Did you k*ll him?

Yes.

Are there more?

At least one.

And what is your goal?

To find a cure for a most rare disease.

Hence, I'm in a position to offer you employment.

You seem to be a freethinker who might imagine a world less constrained by what we think we know of as "truth."

You mean the supernatural?

I mean that place where science and superstition walk hand-in-hand.

An anatomist of your skill would be invaluable to my work.

You'll be well paid.

I have no interest in joining an amateur occultist society.

SIR MALCOLM: Nor I in forming one!

It is not a game for me.

Then stop playing as if it were.

What are you after?

I'm trying to rescue my daughter.

To save her, I would m*rder the world.

Join me, doctor.

With me, you will behold terrible wonders.

And how much of the world will we have to m*rder?

Do you care?

I've only one other question: (whispers) why me?

Because you were unafraid to pull back the skin and look beneath.

(Dog barks in the distance)

(Thunder rumbles)

(Carriage approaches)

(Carriage rattles, hooves clop loudly)

(Horse whinnies)

(Carriage creaks, heavy landing)

(Horse whinnies, hooves clop loudly)

(Breathing heavily)

(Thunder rumbles, rain patters heavily)

(Breathing heavily)

(Door clicks open, creaks shut)

(Floorboards creak)

(Rain patters loudly against window)

(Door squeals shut)

(Low, building rumble of thunder)

(Loud thunderclap)

(Window squeaks shut, latch clicks)

(Thunder rumbles, rain patters)

(Electricity fizzles)

(Sharp exhale)

(Footsteps scuff lightly)

(Electricity fizzles)

(Woman whimpers)

(Floorboard creaks, bed groans)

(Breathy sobs)

(Inhales slowly)

(Exhales forcefully, inhales sharply)

Mina?

(Weeping)

(Breathing heavily)

My God... Mina.

(Loud click, loud whoosh)

(Window bursts open, wind howls)

(High-pitched snarl, glass shatters)

(Ice cubes clink)

You've no doubt?

It was her.

Was it an appeal?

I don't know.

At first... there was such a need in her eyes and then something... monstrous.

My true friend would do you no harm.

Our nature doesn't change, only our circumstance.

You don't know.

Don't I?

Was I not responsible?

But for my transgression, would any of this have occurred?

We cannot unmake the past.

We shall live with our guilt, you and I.

After all this time, she came to me.

I will find her.

There was another thought when she was so very close to me, a strange working of memory.

I thought of a particular lion hunt many years ago.

You're moving through the tall grass, getting a glimpse of the prey, the shoulders mostly, the mane.

You prepare your r*fle.

You're very quiet.

And then there's a moment.

The wind changes, the grass stops swaying.

The lion turns, looks at you.

The moment you realize you are no longer the hunter, you are the prey.

(Rain pours down, footsteps splash)

(People chatter, loud thunderclap)

(Keys clank, key clicks in lock)

(Ominous music)

(Thunder rumbles, rain patters)

(Door groans open and clanks shut)

(Footsteps clunk heavily)

(Keys jingle, lock clicks, door creaks open)

VANESSA: (Whispering the Lord's Prayer in Latin)

Pater noster, qui es caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.

Adveniat regnum tuum.

Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra.

Panem nostrum qotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimittimus nobis debitoribus nostris. Amen.

Sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum.

Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

Pater noster, qui es caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.

Adveniat regnum tuum.

Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra.

Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie. Amen.

(Loud metallic clatter, electricity fizzles)

(Gasps)

(Spiders skitter)

(Thunder rumbles)

(Breathing hard)

(Keys jingle)

(False door groans open)

(Lock clicks)

(Door creaks open and closes heavily)

(Lightning strikes, thunder rolls)

(Stairs creak underfoot)

(Lantern and keys clatter)

(Electricity bursts on and hums loudly)

(Footsteps scuff)

(Clothing rustles)

(Electricity fizzles)

(Glass lid clinks, bottle clunks)

(Loud thunderclap, electricity hums and fizzles)

(Electricity crackles and sparks)

(Electricity crackles and fizzles)

(Machinery rattles and hums)

(Metallic clank, crackling spark)

(Machinery rattles and hums)

(Crackling spark, doctor winces)

(Metallic clanking)

(Rattling hum, loud thunderclap)

(expl*si*n, electricity powers down)

YOUNG DOCTOR: Ugh! Damn it!

(Strikes match repeatedly)

(Flame sputters)

(Rain patters loudly)

(Loud cr*ck of thunder)

(Exhales forcefully)

(Footsteps thud lightly)

(Breathing hard)

(Floorboards creak)

(Furniture scrapes across floor, heavy footsteps)

(Shaky, uneven breaths)

(Scraping sound)

(Uneven footsteps scuff the floor)

(Breathing heavily)

(Heavy, uneven footsteps approach)

(Stunned, shaky breaths)

(Shaky, emotional breaths)

(Thunder rumbles)

(Grunts softly)

(Grunts softly)

YOUNG DOCTOR: Can you hear?

CREATURE: (Amazed gasp)

(Amazed gasp)

(Shaky, emotional breaths)

My name... is Victor Frankenstein.
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