2. *
Snow blankets craggy hills. A barren forest, a maze of dead trees.
* *
The sounds of a struggle.
*
In the distance, two dark figures grapple.
*
A sharp CRACK.
*
One’s head whips to the right.
*
CA
EXT. AUSTRIAN ALPS. FOREST. DAY
SS
He drops to the ground.
*
The young man left standing, WESLEY YORK (19, Black, doeeyed) leans over the body.
* *
He pants, guilty and bloodied.
*
Y ID
Shit...
WESLEY
* *
From far off, ARCHDUKE BRAGANZA (50’s, bulky, European royalty in the heat of the hunt) cries out in a guttural rage.
* * *
ARCHDUKE BRAGANZA (O.S.) YOU BEAST. WHERE ARE YOU?!
* *
YN HA
Wesley searches frantically for the speaker. His fangs emerge.
* *
He kneels. Wrestles the coat off the body.
*
It’s thick and navy, a vibrant CREST sewn into the breast.
*
The voice echoes between the trees.
*
ARCHDUKE BRAGANZA (O.S.) (CONT'D) WESTLEY?! WESTLEY! Wesley throws on the coat. He looks over his shoulder at the body.
* *
ES
He flees.
* *
*
In The Hall of the Mountain King by Edvard Grieg plays over this sequence.
* *
Heavy, brass buckled boots stomp across the snow. The Archduke is in pursuit.
* *
Wesley’s worn sneakers sprint across the slush.
*
