"That doesn't make any sense," you point out to Bill. "You know this building better than anyone, and I'm not going to be much use navigating through all the old movie equipment in the back with just a flashlight. You and Jake see if you can open that door, and we'll do our best not to damage the windows. I promise."

Bill doesn't look happy, but he's apparently too scared to argue the point; he nods abruptly and walks toward the crowd of people to retrieve Jake. Once he's gone, you turn back to Lawrence. "Shall we?"

Taking the lead, you walk to an alcove off the main lobby, opening the door and ushering Lawrence through. Inside, you ascend a winding staircase leading to the theater's top level, with access to the various balconies. There you pause to spy your objective, a set of 6' high windows covering nearly the entire wall, located at the far end. Advancing down the hall with Lawrence by your side, you admire the old movie posters hanging on the wall. Indiana Jones, Dirty Harry, John McCain… those guys wouldn't be afraid of movie monsters, why should you be? You can just make out faint sounds emanating from the floor below; there's definitely talking, but you don't hear any screams. That's a relief… Bill's just crazy after all. That light was probably some junk piece of equipment malfunctioning. Your spirits rising, you attempt to make conversation.

"Hey Lawrence, I don't think I caught your last name, man."

He smiles apologetically. "Sorry, it's Talbot… Lawrence Talbot. It's a Welsh name, that's where my family's from."

With those words, spoken just as the two of you reach the wall of windows, the last piece of the puzzle falls into place; you finally realize where you know Lawrence from. But before you can react he freezes, staring with horror down the connecting corridor to your left. A mocking, heavily accented voice rings out.

"Still keeping mixed company, Talbot? What a pity… and so cruel. Did your mother never teach you not to play with your food?" Gaping, you watch as a cloud of mist seems to draw in on itself, coalescing in a space not thirty feet from where you stand. In a matter of seconds, the mass solidifies into the form of a remarkably tall, pale man with a thin face and swept back, sable hair. His body seems to disappear within his voluminous cloak, giving him the illusion of gliding rather than walking as he approaches. Panicking, you turn back toward Lawrence… to discover it's already too late.

The clouds outside the window part, sending shafts of moonlight cascading through the hallway. As you fearfully look on, Lawrence becomes transfixed with his hands, watching with a strange mixture of fear and resignation as tufts of hair sprout uncontrollably and his fingernails lengthen into claws. At the same time, his bushy eyebrows and stubble spread to encompass his entire face, teeth reshaping themselves while his nose shrinks and darkens. The last things to go are his eyes; tearing them away from his own transformation, he fixes you with a gaze somewhere between regretful and ravenous as he chokes out "Run… NOW!" in guttural tones.

There's no need to tell you twice - between a vampire and a werewolf, you'll take door number three. It's time to make a split-second decision.

If you run back toward the stairs the way you came, click HERE.

If you try to get past Dracula to the hallway beyond, click HERE.