SLAYERS

 based on the original screenplay 

 by 

 David S. Goyer

Stygian darkness, the faint rumbling of THUNDER. 

FADE IN:

SUPER: OLD RUMANIA 1775

A bird's eye view of the world. Gray storm clouds against the 
late evening sky rushing by us as we speed towards a rocky 
shoreline. Dark blue waves crashing to shore, then the expansive 
dark green grasslands, then we start to see the outskirts of a 
village. Suddenly, we're moving at a quicker speed, a quicker 
tempo, heading straight towards a church right into the massive 
double wooden doors when --

 SMASH CUT TO:

INT. OLD CHURCH - BASEMENT - NIGHT

BOOM! Entry doors swing open as MEN & WOMEN carry in a FEMALE 
BLEEDER, ALYSSA (20s, white, nine months pregnant), on a crude 
stretcher. She's deathly pale, spewing founts of blood from a 
savagely slashed throat.

Frantic shouting from both men and women as WHIP PAN AROUND. They 
become more coherent, a different tongue.

A tired OLD MAN turns around and approaches the morbid entourage.

 OLD PRIEST
 Set her down here -- 

He motions to a wooden table. The woman starts spasming 
violently. It takes three men just to hold her down. She 
continues to writhe and thrash madly in pain under their grip. 
Her necklace gets caught in her hand and it rips off.

CLOSER ON NECKLACE

A SILVER PENDANT, shaped like a heart, falls onto the wooden 
table in slow-mo. The sound of its fall resonating against the 
hard wood -- 

The old priest examines her neck wound.

 OLD PRIEST
 Where was she found?

We SEE a tall, rugged and DARK MANED MAN appear to her side 
pulling off his leather gloves, and watching over the woman 
impassively. On his sword belt an impressive broadsword with an 
unique hilt, and a whip. The hilt covered in runes with a cross 
as its pommel. He is a HUNTER, one of the dozens of men and 
women, honing their bodies and minds for years, to combat only 
one thing, vampires.

 HUNTER
 Deep in the woods, father. We found 
 him first before we discovered her in 
 the hands of the two fiends.

The bleeding woman turns her head slightly, and she looks across 
the room. 

HER POV: A man, much appearing like the Hunter we saw before, 
lies there still, in blood drenched tunic and breeches. A group 
of NUNS are around him, wrapping him in burial bandages.

 OLD PRIEST
 She hasn't been completely drained of 
 blood. There's still a chance to save 
 her child.

 VILLAGER #1 (O.S.)
 Cursed demons. We warned her of him.

 OLD PRIEST
 Yes! Yes! Let us forget the past --

A woman runs in and hands a worn satchel over to the old man.

 OLD PRIEST
 Her soul will be at peace soon! 

He opens up the SATCHEL, view to see some sharp surgical 
instruments. A HAND grips his wrist, 

 VILLAGER #2
 Father, you realize what may happen to 
 this infant!

The priest gives the villager a quick glance noting where his 
hand should not be and he moves away.

 OLD PRIEST
 It matters not. This child is still 
 born of a human woman. Now help me!

CAMERA PUSHES IN on the woman as she bolts upright, SCREAMING to 
wake the dead. We PLUNGE INTO the darkness of her mouth and find 
ourselves --

inside her bloodstream

The sound of a HEART BEATING, pounding as we whip-snake through -- 

CORPUSCLES

floating in amber plasma. Erythrocytes, leukocytes, neutrophils 
and eosinophils.

The rhythmic expansion of the artery walls, pulsing with each 
successive surge of blood as the HEART BEATS FASTER AND FASTER, 
taking us --

IN UTERO,

A CHILD, alive but unborn, shifting in a sea of amniotic fluid, 
surrounded by the white, protective substance known as vernix 
caseosa. The HEARTBEAT races like a locomotive now. The unborn 
child shifts, turns its head towards us --

-- and opens its eyes.

 CUT TO:

EXT. INNER CITY - INDUSTRIAL GHETTO - NIGHT

Many, many years later --

A decaying no man's land populated by condemned buildings and 
HUNGRY HOMELESS. Steam rises from manhole covers, drifting across 
the litter-lined streets. Suddenly --

A black Mercedes 850 appears over the crest of a hill, ROARING 
past us, stereo system belting out FILTER.

INT. MERCEDES - NIGHT

Raquel, a wasp-wasted woman, sits behind the wheel. 20s, rich, 
sickeningly attractive. Hungry eyes.

Squirming around in the passenger seat is DENNIS, a model/actor 
boy-toy with a sub-zero IQ and a "fuck me sideways" grin.

 RAQUEL
 What do you have down there, little 
 man?

 DENNIS
 Well that's my heat-seeker.

 RAQUEL
 I'll bet it is.

Raquel slides a manicured hand up his thigh, squeezes his groin. 
Dennis MOANS. She pulls her hand away, downshifts.

EXT. INNER CITY - NIGHT

The Mercedes blazes down the street in high speed, turning 
corners fast and accelerating just as fast.

INT. MERCEDES - NIGHT

 DENNIS
 So where are we going?

 RAQUEL
 It's a surprise.

 DENNIS
 Yeah? I like surprises!

Raquel eyeballs Dennis -- "if looks could devour".

EXT. VACANT LOT - NIGHT

The 850 threads a narrow alley into a vacant lot, BRAKES hard. 
Raquel and Dennis climb out. She leads him into --

EXT. MEAT PACKING PLANT - NIGHT

Industry never sleeps, and certainly not this grisly facility. 
Raquel leads Dennis around the back of the plant, where a host of 
WORKERS are loading refrigerated trucks with product.

 DENNIS
 What the fuck are we doing here?

Raquel just smiles, heads on into the plant via a loading door. 
The workers ignore her.

INT. MEAT PACKING PLANT - NIGHT

Dennis follows Raquel through the bowels of the plant, catching 
glimpses here and there of hacked up cattle carcasses.

 DENNIS
 Look at all that --

Through one partially open door we see what might be a line of 
BODYBAGS being trundled into the back of a truck via hook and 
chain pulley-system. But Dennis doesn't have enough time to be 
disturbed by this, because he's being pulled away by Raquel, led 
down --

A STAIRWELL

We are in the basement now. At the end of the hall is a steel 
door, with perhaps, just the faintest HINT OF MUSIC heard coming 
from beyond. Raquel knocks. 

A "peep-hole" slat opens and a BLACK LIGHT shines into Raquel's 
eyes. A VOICE behind the door offers a verbal challenge, speaking 
a language we've never heard, laced with a devilish cadence.

 DENNIS
 What did you just say?

Raquel responds in kind to someone behind the door. It opens. 
Raquel gives Dennis a knowing wink, enters. Dennis follows.

INT. CLUB - NIGHT

Raquel and Dennis move past a hulking DOORMAN, making their way 
down a narrow stairway. Dennis is suitably impressed.

THE CLUB

is elite, underground -- an "abattoir-chic" version of an old-
time juke joint with a greasy, dangerous vibe. White-tiled walls 
and floors for easy hosing, chromed fittings, run-off gutters, 
drains. No bar.

BODIES

writhe on the strobe-lit dance floor. A heavy S&M scene. Leather. 
Latex. Tattoos. Body-piercings.

We catch a large MAN, with dark brim sunglasses, decorated with a 
cowboy hat and smoking cigar relaxing in his couch, watching over 
the rave. He has an arm around one OD girl, tonguing her 
occasionally and looking back, another young girl, head bobbing 
up and down by his waist. He is QUINN.

A D.J. wearing head-mounted spotlights orchestrates the tunes on 
twin-decks. MUSIC assaults us -- a beat so heavy it could jar the 
fillings from your teeth. Brutal "DARKCORE" along the lines of 
Prodigy or Underground. Raquel pulls off her jacket and hands it 
off to Dennis before moving off into the dance floor. She spies 
one partner and advances. Dennis, behind, gives a look of 'Fuck 
this' and tosses her jacket away.

A lupine-featured GAULTIER GIRL with a streak of white running 
through her raven hair moves in with Raquel, pressing up against 
her. Rachel Williams as the Angel of Death -- we'll call her 
MERCURY.

Both of them sway hypnotically to the rhythm and sounds of the 
beat. A beat that appears to hold the entire club in its crazed 
trance.

Dennis gives a whoop at the noise and tries to get into a female 
sandwich between two spandex covered girls. They see him and 
shove him off roughly, before they go back to their eye-to-eye 
trance. He groans in dismay as another couple from behind pushes 
him aside. No luck here. The crowd is ignoring this obvious 
standout. Dennis, back into his jubilant mood, tries to find 
Raquel.

The beat then gets LOUDER. The action heavier. The atmosphere 
more narcotic. People are stripping off their clothes, sweating 
like fiends. It's a virtual orgy.

Dennis laughs, reveling in the hedonism. He sees her with 
MERCURY. Everything rises to a fever pitch --

 DENNIS
 (over the music)
 Hey, babe! What's happening?

Raquel continues dancing -- then Mercury notices Dennis getting 
too close and shoves him away. She ignores the disparaging boy 
and continues to dance with Raquel. He's had it. What kind of fun 
is this? And if that wasn't enough, he turns to move off then,

SOMEONE runs into him! A YOUNG MAN in black leather garb with a 
look of a rebel of the 90s. He gives him a stare, as does his 
companion next to him. A MEAN-LOOKING MAN with oriental traits 
and a stare to paralyze hundreds. He is known as a gurn-sei from 
his culture, but we will know him as the RIVEN. They chuckle to 
themselves at the sight of him and leaves.

Then Dennis notices a DROP OF SOMETHING spatter his hand. Now we 
have people spitting at him now? Only it's not someone else's 
saliva, but it looks like blood. Dennis looks up, concerned -

-- MORE BLOOD DROPLETS are falling. The faces of the dancers 
around him are sprinkled with them now. What is this? Some kind 
of fucked up performance art?

A large male nearby turns his face toward the ceiling, as if 
washing himself in a summer shower; now the other club goers are 
looking up, too --

THE DJ BOOTH

Lights flare up suddenly, illuminating him and the large white 
blanket behind with the words BLOOD BATH written in blood! He 
roars the signal as --

blood showers DOWN

from sprinkler heads in the ceiling, drenching the dancers. The 
club goers love it, thrusting their heads back, mouths open wide 
to receive the crimson offering.

Horrified, Dennis recoils, turning towards --

RAQUEL,

whose face morphs into a preternatural snarl. Her canines extend, 
tapering to razor-sharp points. Her tongue flicks, lizard-like as 
fingernails sharpen into claws. All this while the whites of her 
eyes BLEED RED, pupils oscillating hypnotically.

 RAQUEL
 What's wrong, baby? Don't you like 
 your surprise?

Dennis SCREAMS, pushes away from Raquel, only --

-- Mercury has fangs now too. In fact, everyone in the club does, 
with the exception of poor Dennis. That's because they're all 
vampires. Dennis tries to run, but a burly vampire blocks his 
attempt, brutally smashing his fist into his face. Dennis reels, 
dazed. The club-goers close in around him. They make a game of 
it, shoving him from one person to another, their pale faces 
leering like twisted jack-o-lanterns.

The strobe lights quicken to a seizure-inducing intensity. Dennis 
spins, tumbling into Raquel's arms. She shoves him forward -- 
Dennis lands on the floor, falling at someone's boot-clad feet. 
He looks up. A DARK FIGURE sits in the shadows, unnoticed until 
this moment. The figure stands, moves into the light as time 
screeches to a halt --

A LONE MAN,

towers above Dennis, wearing dark glasses and a black leather 
longcoat -- a sneer of cruel contempt etched upon a face tempered 
by a lifetime of horror. His name is JEHONAS. Dennis quickly 
scrambles past him.

Jehonas slowly opens his long coat, shrugging it off, revealing 
an arsenal of high-tech weapons strapped to his body: 6-point 
adjustable body armor, a custom Ingram MAC that fires 10mm Autos 
in silver casement, 2 large pistols - Beretta 9mm and Eagle .44 
Magnum - with silver ammo on shoulder and belt holster 
respectively, a Remington 12-gauge shotgun fitted with an extra 
stake shooting mechanism, a large silver balisong blade, a 
bandoleer of silver stakes strapped to his leg, the boomerang-
like weapon, s-blade -- and last, but certainly not least -- a 
silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.

CLOSE ON JEHONAS

A gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-
goers staring back, hissing to themselves in fear. Then nuclear 
silence. Jehonas steps to the crowd. The sound of his sole cleats 
RESONATING in their ears. The footsteps of their maker. And then 
--

 FEMALE VAMPIRE JUNKIE
 C'mon, Day-walker!!

All hell breaks loose. With a SNARL, the female vampire charges 
at Jehonas, moving at superhuman speed, practically a blur --

Jehonas draws his MAC, FIRES in multiple directions --

MACRO BULLET SHOT

as a round roars through the air towards the lunging vampire. A 
silver-tipped dum-dum bullet which explodes on contact.

WHAM! The round punches a fist-sized hole through her chest, 
continuing on into the vamp behind her! Vampire blood fountains. 
Both creatures tumble forward, their bodies liquefying into 
puddles of black oil which go gurgling down the run-off drains.

Jehonas continues FIRING, then -CLICK!- magazine's empty. Next. 
He holsters the MAC, swings up his 12-gauge shotgun, calmly pumps 
once to load --

 WHIP PAN TO:

Across the dance floor to a blood soaked female vampire. She 
grabs two of the meat hooks and starts spinning them wildly.

HER POV: She charges pass the crowd, screaming in a frenzy as we 
come upon Jehonas.

Jehonas hears her, spins, and fires! BANG! The vampire gets 
caught in mid air from the shot and blasted back to the floor. He 
elbows another vampire that was sneaking up behind him, and 
calmly starts firing repeatedly at other targets.

RAQUEL

She calmly waits as Jehonas spins away from her, his back totally 
turned.

 RAQUEL
 Hey! I'm gonna rip your fucking head 
 off!

Jehonas sees her approaching fast from behind and spins kicks her 
to a different world. In one smooth motion, his shotgun levels 
and fires catching another advancing vampire dead in his steps. 
Raquel gets back to her feet. No time to reload. He swings his 
elbows, catching her in the face while pumping his shotgun at the 
same time, and then readjusts. She hisses. Jehonas smiles, fires, 
and Raquel propels back from the force of the shot.

The strobe lights flicker as the mayhem mounts. Some of the 
vampires try to flee, scurrying up the stairs, but the exit 
quickly becomes clogged with liquefying bodies --

-- then Jehonas' Remington jams. The remaining club-goers see 
their opening, surge forward en masse --

Jehonas throws his shotgun at one of the charging vampires. Its 
barrel spinning quick, catching the legs and tripping him to the 
floor. One of the club dancers grabs Jehonas by the shoulders, 
but he turns his hand back and throws him to the floor. In one 
swift motion, Jehonas pulls out a stake and runs it through the 
dancer's heart.

He spins kick another, SEES a big one coming at him. A BURLY 
VAMPIRE tries to throw a punch. Jehonas blocks with his left 
hand, grabs another silver stake, and thrusts up into his chin 
lifting him. The vampire is IMPALED into the ceiling by the 
inhuman force.

Losing nerve now, lots of vampires head for the closest exits. 
Jehonas blocks a blow from a lunging vampire easily and grabs his 
neck. Disturbing movement from the corner of his eye, 

We see Mercury and several other vampire GOONS line up to his 
flank with automatics and open up.

Lightning fast reactions, Jehonas hurls the vampire into the hail 
of bullets and leaps behind some stage equipment. 

ON JEHONAS, 

crouching, with bits and pieces of the equipment spatter all 
around him as he calmly unholsters both his handguns and waits 
for --

CLICK!!! The guns on the goons go empty. Jehonas smiles at his 
luck tonight and leaps from his spot, firing both of his handguns 
simultaneously, spinning behind amps, moving without stopping. 
The goons are fast too, with vampire speed, unload, reload, and 
fire back. A few of them go down fast from Jehonas' guns. Easy 
pickings.

Mercury stops her fire, notices she's the only one left. Shit. 
Jehonas aims and fires, but Mercury with a split second head 
start vaults over some upturn tables and clutter and makes for 
the exit. 

A slight look of disappointment crosses Jehonas. He holsters his 
guns. Movement to his left, Jehonas reaches over his shoulder and 
-SCHINGGG!- unsheathes his sword.

THE SWORD

Four acid-etched feet of blood-soaked Damascus steel. An edge so 
sharp it could cleave a shadow in two.

THE OTHER SIDE - THE EXIT,

More of the dark leather vampires enter with an assortment of 
crowbars, axes, and sharp weapons. Quinn is among them 
brandishing a butcher knife, cheering them on.

 QUINN
 That's him! That's the Day-walker! Get 
 him! Fuck him up! We're gonna jack you 
 up. Make you hurt bad!

THEIR POV: Jehonas turns to Quinn's group, sword down, drawing an 
invisible arc about a foot from his boots.

QUINN raises his knife, signals the charge. The vampires attack 
as one.

ON JEHONAS

As he slices upwards, catching a vampire in midair from his leap, 
cutting him effectively in two. More vampires surge! In a 
whirlwind of steel and leather, Jehonas cuts them all down as 
they attempt to encircle him. The first wave down, not a step 
taken past his arc. 

Jehonas does a somersault over some tables, into a circular room. 
Vampires try in vain to slash and hack at his body, but Jehonas' 
too quick and precise with his cuts. A slash left and right, 
parry and impale, dodge and slash. In a few seconds, Jehonas 
spins his sword once as a bunch of bodies decompose into their 
black puddles.

More VAMPIRES with automatic rifles appear. Jehonas sees that he 
is surrounded on both sides. He looks left and right, then stands 
straight as if not a world of worry is in him. He retrieves the 
deadly s-blade from his belt. Quinn notices and hits the dirt. A 
quick flick of the wrist -- 

TRACKING the knife-edged boomerang as it slices through the air 
in a circle of death. It CUTS through every vampire surrounding 
Jehonas and returns back to his hand. 

ON THE FAR END OF THE CLUB,

a LATEX-CLAD VAMP makes a break for it. Jehonas flings his sword, 
sending it spinning end over end -- THUNK! The sword punches into 
the vampire's heart. The hellish creature convulses, dies.

Beat. Jehonas retrieves his sword, then senses --

SOMETHING BIG

rising up behind him. In a flash, Jehonas swings his elbow 
backward, ramming muscle and bone right into the vampire's nasal 
cartilage --

-- but it doesn't slow the hulking creature down. Jehonas spins, 
grabs the collar and in the momentum, hurls the vampire some 
twenty feet, tumbling over tables, slamming into the rear wall so 
hard that plaster rains down from the ceiling. His head is 
literally impaled into the wall.

A DEEP ROAR,

Jehonas is SLAMMED from his side. Suddenly, he finds himself 
wrestling one on one with Quinn. Jehonas forces an elbow against 
Quinn's throat, trying to keep him at bay. With his other hand he 
reaches to his bandoleer, pulls out a stake --CRUNCH! Jehonas 
shoves the stake through the vampire's larynx. Quinn gurgles, 
clutches at his throat.

Jehonas rolls out from under, retrieves his shotgun from the 
floor and aims at one side of Quinn. The vampire looks in total 
horror at the two silver stakes protruding from the bottom end of 
the rifle. Jehonas FIRES --

A stake hits Quinn in the shoulder, throwing him backwards and 
nailing him to the wall. As Quinn reaches over with his other 
hand to pull out the stake --

Jehonas FIRES AGAIN. A second stake slams into Quinn's other arm, 
effectively pinning him like a butterfly to a board.

UP ABOVE, mounted in one of the corners, is a security camera. 
Jehonas fires a shotgun shell straight into the lens.

Jehonas strides over, leveling the barrel against Quinn's nose.

 JEHONAS
 Where is Deacon Frost?

Quinn glares, trying to speak, gagging on the stake still lodged 
in his trachea --

 JEHONAS
 Got something in your throat.

Jehonas yanks the stake free. The vampire laughs, air whistling 
through his ruined larynx.

 QUINN
 Fuck you, Day-walker, I ain't saying 
 shit.

 JEHONAS
 Once more.

Quinn responds with a slew of rapid-fire vampire invectives. 
Jehonas sees he's getting nowhere, calmly puts away his weapon. 
He unclips a white phosphorous grenade from his combat harness --

 QUINN
 You won't stop him. The Tide's rising, 
 the Sleeper's gonna --

 JEHONAS
 Shut up. I'm getting a little tired of 
 chopping you up. Maybe a little fire 
 will do tonight. Give my regards to 
 Frost.

Jehonas shoves the grenade in Quinn's mouth, pulls the pin. 
WHOOSH! Quinn goes up like a roman candle. Jehonas turns, 
surveying his work, ignoring the howling pyre behind him.

All evidence of the vampires is gone -- with the exception of a 
few oily-black puddles. Clothes, jewelry -- it's all been burned 
away by the acidic process of the creatures' accelerated 
decomposition.

DENNIS sits huddled in a corner, having pissed his pants. Jehonas 
sees him and draws his balisong blade. A quick turn of the wrist 
and the handle splits, showing the near-foot long silver blade 
inside. As he approaches, he cringes back --

 DENNIS
 Please don't --

Jehonas grabs Dennis by the jaw, lifts him up. He tilts his head 
upward, rotating it from side to side -- looking for marks. There 
aren't any. He pulls him close till they are eye to eye.