03x02 - The Enemy Within

[bunniefuu]

DOOR OPENS THEN CREAKS

I'll show you to your coffin-room.

What's she doing here?

I've asked Erin to stay with us.

This half-fang?

- Why?
- She saved Ingrid's life!

- You're really not selling her.
- She's staying whether you like it or not.

My castle, my rules!

- Renfield, chuck her bag out.
- Yes, sir!

Times have changed, and I say Erin stays.

And I say she goes!

- Don't I get a vote?
- No!
- Yes! Listen to Ingrid!

- I don't want her.
- You don't get a vote.

You can't have two queen bees in a hive.

It would be a fight to the death.

SHE COUGHS

My money's on the half-fang.

I will not have fighting in this house.

Erin is staying, and you two will leave her alone.

Look, I don't want to cause a rift between you and your family.

I can look after myself.

Not if the Slayers' Guild catch you.

Ever since Ingrid's att*ck on Stokely,

they've been staking first and asking questions later. Dad'll be fine.

At least stay until you get your full powers.

There's so much you need to learn.

All right. I'll stay, till I'm ready. Thanks, Vlad.

I'll just get the rest of my stuff.

Quickly!

That was the last of the serum.

So, what now? We can't exactly ask the Slayers' Guild for more.

We're on our own, sis. You know what they'd do to me if they knew.

It's OK. I've got a plan.

Does it involve a large wooden pointy thing?

We have to talk about this.

I was bitten.

We both know what that means.

And when the time comes, you know what has to be done.

I told you, I'm going to cure you.

If I can wipe out the bloodline that infected you,

the curse will be lifted.

You can't wipe out the Draculas.

Ever since Ingrid bit you, she's been getting weaker and weaker.

All I need is one chance to get close to her.

And how do you plan to do that?

They've just invited me to live with them.

You can't live with vampires. You're a vegetarian!

And a trained slayer!

With a pulse!

I've been using stasis spray, remember.

It blocks out my heartbeat, my breathing and my scent.

They'll think I'm a newly bitten half-fang.

You can't.

The serum's working. You rest.

I'll be OK.

I'll let them get used to me,

and just when they think they're safe,

I'll strike!

Ingrid!

I've never seen anything like this before.

I just don't know what to do.

Maybe I can help.

I could take care of Ingrid if you'd like me to.

- Really?
- We need to make her more comfortable.

See if you can find whatever us vampires like.

I know all this vampire stuff seems strange at first,

but you'll get used to it.

OK. I'm on it. Thanks, Erin.

She's a vampire. It's not like k*lling a human.

INGRID WHEEZES

Vlad!

What's wrong?

She's...breathing!

Breathing?

Ingrid? Ingrid!

A pulse!

Dad! DAD!

- What now?
- Ingrid's getting worse.

Do let me know when she crumbles to dust.

Seriously. She's breathing and she's got a pulse.

We need to do something to cool her down.

Looks like an advanced blood infection.

It's a temporary thing. All her vampire abilities are shutting down.

- Ah, no, no, this is good news.
- What?

It's incurable. She'll be gone within a week.

There must be something we can do.

To cure a vampire illness, you'd need a specialist in the dark arts.

An alchemist.

Someone who has dared to probe into dark places,

no matter how twisted and wrong.

Renfield. He means Renfield.

- Sir?
- Mistress Ingrid is very ill.

Would she like a cup of tea?

Little bit iller than that.

It's a shame. I'm going to have to bring his memory back.

Sir?

Look into my eyes.

- I thought you said you couldn't do that?
- I lied.

When I click my fingers...

For four years, this squeaky clean imbecile

has been tottering around...

Do you want him back or not?

You will open your eyes,

and you will see things as they really are.

And you will remember!

Did it work?

Ooh, look, a cockroach!

A cockroach!

Ooh, it's off!

The old Renfield's back.

Well, this calls for a celebration.

Renfield, open a bottle of someone red and full-bodied.

- Yes, master.
- Not yet! Ingrid's more important.

Since when?

Oh, very well.

Do what you must.

Yes, master.

And your insolence needs correcting.

Mr Count, please don't do that. Are you trying to give me a heart att*ck?

Don't joke about such matters.

What's the problem?

You said Vlad needed more confidence in school.

I've hired a private tutor and, well, I've worked out a timetable.

Vlad will only need to miss your most stupid, pointless classes.

Sport, personal and social development, home economics.

These subjects aren't stupid or pointless!

Well, I hardly think Vlad need concern himself with cookery.

I thought we had an understanding.

Oh, we do.

Vlad may be your son, but he is my student.

And in my school, he must do things my way.

Of course,

but on this occasion, I suggest you make an exception.

I'm sorry. Vlad must follow the rules like everyone else.

- Really?
- I'm afraid we'll have to agree to disagree.

Miss McCauley, are you sure?

Quite sure.

Thank you.

Fascinating.

I'm disappointed in you, Vlad.

You always are.

First Ingrid, then the half-fang, and now Renfield.

You lack discipline, you're insubordinate

and worst of all, you never listen to me!

You never listen to me.

I don't need to! I know what's good for you.

Like it or not, you have to learn in order to fulfil your potential.

That's why I've arranged a tutor for you.

OK, I'm ready. You be the tutor.

You want me to improvise?

Just come over here.

All right, but I'm really not sure of my motivation.

This is like the cage which trapped your father.

Actually, it is that one, with modifications.

An excellent booby-trap.

Of course, it is ineffective against hell-hounds.

One wrong move, and that tutor is gonna be toast.

Show time.

KNOCKING

DOOR OPENS THEN CREAKS

Go on, open it! I wonder who they've sent?

SCREECHING

Not exactly what I was expecting.

Good evening, Count Dracula. And you must be Vladimir.

- I am Goody McEldrich.
- We are honoured, Madam!

- Are we?
- Goody McEldrich is infamous.

You're talking to Transylvania's greatest expert in shape-shifting.

So why'd you choose that one? Why'd you choose...

You were right to call upon me. This boy needs discipline!

- Yes. I'm afraid I've been too soft with the lad.
- You certainly have.

I...smell...BREATHER!

That'll be Renfield.

The Chosen One should not harbour breathers in his lair.

The only good breather is a drained breather.

Actually, I quite like them.

We'll soon cure you of that. Let the training begin!

Good luck, Vladdy. Oh, and by the way,

- I took the liberty of disabling your little booby-trap.
- Dad!

I'm waiting!

Off you go, Vlad.

You too, Count Dracula! His unvampiric behaviour is your fault.

You need to be taught a lesson in parenting.

Put them away!

Boys who answer back get put on the naughty step.

What?

She sounds just like my old Nanny Clontarf!

Fingers on fangs!

Now, who's going to tell me where the training room is?

Lesson One. The relationship between us and them.

Breathers have feelings, just like us.

They experience pain, just as we do.

Which is why it's so much fun to play with your food.

I hope you're paying attention, Vlad.

What did I say about fingers on fangs?

I was just...

Ow.

Silence!

Don't make me use this again!

- You can't just go around hitting people!
- You're right.

- The next time one of you is naughty, I shall cut off a limb!
- What?

Oh, don't be such a baby.

Where do you keep all your weapons?

Weapons?

Your swords? Your axes?

Over here.

Please.

Over here?

But it's empty!

I don't see any...

Take a closer look.

Aaarrrrghh!

SPLASHING

GROWLING

Of course, I set up my own booby-trap.

The old false-cupboard garlic-pit wheeze.

I always wondered what happened to Nanny Clontarf.

MUFFLED SCREAMS

Wake up!

What?

Drink this.

You're trying to k*ll me? I never thought you'd have the guts.

- I'm trying to save you.
- Why?

You're the only sister I've got.

Please?

If it'll shut you up...

SHE SPLUTTERS

Well, it's certainly an improvement. I can see less of her face.

Renfield! What the blood and garlic was that?

An unfortunate side effect, Master Vlad.

- I must have made an error with the formula.
- Well, put it right!

LAUGHING

Vladdy, let me introduce you to your new tutor,

my old hunting partner, Baron Von Racalud.

Best wingman I ever had.

So, are you a chip off the old fang?

He's a good, honest, decent boy.

- So you want me to change all that?
- Oh, could you?

No problem. But first of all, fancy a cold one?

I thought you'd never ask!

- I've got our old favourite chilling in the cellar.
- Not the...

BOTH: Baroness of Bucharest!

' vintage.

You read my mind!

Brilliant!

- The Baroness!
- The Baroness!

Bottoms up!

Die, cursed creature of the night!

I shall pierce your heart with my sword of vengeance!

And I said to him, "Not likely, mate, this shirt is Armani."

Oh, wow!

- What did you do?
- Turned to smoke, of course.

Left him grasping at thin air and att*cked from behind.

Got my fangs in his throat quicker than you could say "bon appetit."

Now, where would you like to start?

I would love to learn to smoke like you.

I will show you how it's done.

Wow! That is...smoking.

Isn't it?

Now, observe how all the particles are perfectly detached.

Whatever.

- What is this? You tricked me!
- Yup!

And there's a nugget of argentalium in there to stop you turning back.

Oh, you will pay for this insult to my honour and the dry cleaning!

Have a nice trip back to Transylvania!

You will wish you'd never been unborn!

INGRID GASPS

Surely she's dust by now?

DOOR OPENS THEN CREAKS

How's Racalud? Is he teaching you some new moves?

He's gone back to Transylvania.

An important package to attend to, apparently. How's she doing?

She seems to be getting worse.

Time for your medicine.

I promise this will sort out your facial hair problem.

SHE COUGHS

You look divine, Mistress Ingrid.

That's it! I've had enough of you torturing my sister.

You're no fun.

I have to go back to school. You stay here, get some rest.

I'll be back to check on her in an hour or so.

You, look after Ingrid. The next potion you make had better work!

Or else!

Good afternoon. My name is Bertrand du Fortunesa.

Sorry, er, Bertrand?

Bert-ROND.

Oh, great. You're one of them.

Look, I don't care what Dad's told you.

I've never met your father.

But he sent for you, though.

Nobody sent for me. I came to find the Chosen One.

He who can open the Praedictum Impaver.

Vladimir Dracula, it is my solemn duty

and honour to present you with...

Praedictum Impaver.

Right, so, what does it do?

I don't really know.

I believe that when the Chosen One opens it,

vampires will rule the world as we did in ancient times.

Right. Well, I think I'll just leave it shut.

You don't understand. Opening it is not a choice.

It's your duty.

That is, if you are who you say you are.

So, let me get this right.

If I don't open it, I'm not the Chosen One?

You must open it to prove your claim.

Got it.

Medicine time.

You can't give her more potions! You'll k*ll her.

The half-fang's right.

I don't think she can take any more.

Pity. A great pity here.

Oh, well, I suppose we'd better do what needs to be done.

- What do you mean?
- This is a fairly common blood allergy.

Like her, it's very painful and irritating.

But unlike her, it's easy to get rid of.

- Renfield, sort it out.
- There's a cure?

There's been a cure all along?

Transylvanian bat vomit does the job every time.

You're sick and wrong.

Oh, thank you, Vladdy.

Open wide.

What...did I ever do to you?

Gloated at my execution. Plotted to overthrow me.

Left me to die.

Oh, that.

Welcome back, daughter. I loathe you as much as ever.

What about this?

Get rid of it. Now.

It actually works.

I should warn you, the side-effects may include drowsiness.

I promise, when she wakes up, she'll be on the road to recovery.

She'd better be.

Vladimir Dracula!

Neither of us can escape our destiny!

She's a monster.

She's not human.

The book, Vlad. Open the book.

No. I'm not touching it.

As I said, you cannot escape your destiny.

Let me out!

Or what?

Come on, Dracula, what are you going to do about it?

The Grand High Council won't stand for this. I'm the Chosen One!

- So you say. You're not the first.
- I thought there could only be one.

But there have been many pretenders. How do I know you're different?

OK. I'm not the Chosen One. Whatever. Who cares?

I do.

You see, the penalty for fraud is death.

Did you do it? Did you stake Ingrid?

I couldn't.

I'm so sorry.

Don't blame yourself. The Draculas are just too powerful.

No.

She was alone. I had a stake in my hand.

I don't know why I couldn't.

I do.

You're not a k*ller.

If it's any consolation, I won't enjoy these executions.

Executions?

Yeah. Posing as the Chosen One means death for your entire family.

You touch them, and I'll...

What?

What will you do?

As I thought.

Leave my family alone!

I am not responsible for the deaths of your family, Vlad.

You are.

Think of me as one of them now.

I'm never going to hurt you. You can't make me.

Then I have to go away.

I'm changing, sis. I'm too dangerous to be around.

I'll save you. I promise.

Just...look after yourself.

You, too.

No.

What just happened?

I had to force you to show your power.

Look what you have become! And this is just the beginning.

- One day, you will have power over all vampires.
- Great!

- I'll start by getting rid of you.
- If you like.

But what will you do next time? You've got enemies, Vlad.

The Slayers' Guild want the Chosen One dead.

So do half the High Council.

- I can look after myself.
- Maybe you can.

If that's all that matters to you.

Good luck.

Wait. What exactly is it you think you can teach me?

Everything.

I've been preparing for years.

With me as your tutor, you can force all vampires to do your bidding.

You can decide the destiny of vampirekind.

And I'd still be able to do things my way, right?

Of course.

It begins.

Yeah.

I guess it does.