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.
