Fast Fangs

Vampires Only Know One Speed — ALL THE WAY


A Lamborghini with a broken window tears through the streets, howling as it weaves between cars.


DANNY, a young fellow who probably looks like Dave Franco or something, is laughing as he weaves between cars. In the passenger side seat we see the crowbar he used to break in, and the car is obviously hot-wired. We’re dealing with a serious rebel here.


As Danny’s car weaves around, it peels into a ramp onto the freeway, right in front of a large truck.


TRUCKER driving the truck Danny just cut off on an empty freeway, we see the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. The sun is peeking out, as we realize it is dawn. The sun is behind us, it is still dark, but the sky is a telling purple of a day about to start. TRUCKER has a sleepy look on his eyes as quaint country music is playing. A low rumble of engines creeps up on us.

Suddenly Rage Against The Machine’s song “WAKE UP” blasts the screen, startling TRUCKER as a black and silver car races by at breakneck, highly illegal speeds. The driver leading this pack of street cars is named DEACON. DEACON looks like Vin Diesel, and is pretty much exactly how Vin Diesel acts in every movie he’s ever been in. The music fades as the car zips away from our view.

TRUCKER: Damn kids.

Two more street cars sprint by. Then two more, all as loud and fast as DEACON.


DANNY’s smile turns to confusion as he hears what sounds like a chorus of louder, meaner engine roars. DANNY looks into his rearview mirror to see DEACON and several other cars in the middle of their own intense race, and DANNY’s accidentally in front of them.

DANNY: What the hell…?

Two sleepy cops, a ROOKIE and MUSTACHE cop, drinking coffee in their car camped out behind a sign. DANNY’s Lamborghini sprints by.

MUSTACHE: Settle down rookie, that car’s long gone.

The other four cars sprint by in succession. MUSTACHE spits his coffee. MUSTACHE starts his car with the sirens blaring.

MUSTACHE (Talking into intercom): 10–4, We got an ILLEGAL street race in progress. Require backup.

DANNY gives a frown as he’s driving, he’s a little worried about these street race cars that seemed to have pulled up right behind him. The roars get louder as the cars seem to glow and shimmer unnaturally, and pass him up.

DANNY: Whoa.

DANNY’s attention is lost as the familiar red and blue lights of the police flash behind him.

DANNY: Oh shi-

We see a pack of police cars hot on DANNY’s tail.


DEACON is gripping the steering wheel tightly as “WAKE UP” blasts loudly. He wears a leather jacket, leather gloves, and sunglasses despite it being dark. He shoots a glance at his rear view mirror. We see the 4 other racers, jockeying for position and the sun slowly peeking in the horizon.

We see DEACON’s sunglasses again and a soft smoke is coming from behind the edges of his sunglasses. DEACON growls, baring obvious vampire teeth and rips his rear view mirror off. He won’t need it to win this race.


DEACON’s car weaves in and out of traffic in the freeway, hotly followed by the other racers, tailing behind are DANNY’s Lamborghini and a stream of police cars.

The cars skirt off the freeway, headed for a winding forest. The sunlight on the ground creeps up on the cars. PHIL, a young vampire in sunglasses driving a red souped up car, misses the exit and spins out.


DANNY sees the spin-out but is too close to move out of the way.

DANNY: Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!

DANNY slams the brakes but it’s too late. He crashes into PHIL’s car. Airbags soften the abrupt stop for DANNY.


PHIL’s car is a wreck. Shattered glass everywhere. PHIL (young man, leather jacket/punk style) is reeling in pain in his car, but he’s not as beat up as we expect. PHIL’s airbag didn’t go off. PHIL snaps to attention and realizes the danger he’s in. He eyes the sun rising in the background and desperately tries to get his seatbelt off, but he’s stuck. the sun is racing up the side of PHIL’s car and PHIL hisses in panic as the sun climbs up towards him.


DANNY’s airbag keeps the impact from being too much. DANNY is rubbing his neck in pain. That weird tinnitus sound is drowning out the sirens we should be hearing. MUSTACHE COP smashes open the window and pulls DANNY out violently.


DEACON is fully focused. He weaves effortlessly through the forest, the other racers quickly follow.


MUSTACHE COP is snapping the cuffs on DANNY’s wrists as DANNY is looking rebelliously angry, hands behind his head on his knees.

MUSTACHE: That’s one more piece of trash off the streets. Hey rookie! You get that other racer?

ROOKIE pries open the driver door. ROOKIE stares at the driver’s seat perplexed.

ROOKIE: Uh, you might want to look at this.
MUSTACHE: What’s the matter? Never seen a car wreck before?
ROOKIE: Not like this…

ROOKIE pulls out a leather jacket from the car, as dust pours out of it, blowing off into the wind. We look into the driver’s seat and see blue jeans and a white tee in a pile of ash in the driver’s seat.


DEACON’s car pulls in at a smooth, controlled, screeching halt. DEACON steps out, throwing his arms in victory and roaring. The other cars soon pull in as well, as we see a warehouse filled with people in street racing styles/clothing cheering.


VAMPIRE FLOOZIES come to DEACON’s side, bringing him one of those nice yoga water bottles, but it’s filled with blood! These guys are totally vampires.

CAESAR (young man in punk rock clothing with blue spiked hair) steps out of his bright blue, candy-colored race car (license plate BLUBLUD) and pulls his mirrored shades up onto his dyed hair in joy.

CAESAR: That was some crazy ass driving, Deacon! We are going to dominate the Clan Wars this year! I almost had you in the forest though, man.
DEACON: Caesar, you were nowhere near “close”.
CAESAR: How would you know? You ripped your damn mirror off!
DEACON: Because-

A clean cut, suited man with a serious tone and glasses stands, as if he has been waiting for DEACON. His name is EZEKIEL, and he does not seem to care much for the rowdy style of the crowd.

EZEKIEL: Deacon. The Baron would like to speak to you.
DEACON: The big guy himself, huh? I wonder what he wants with ol’ Deacon…

A lush, Victorian style study. THE BARON (played by a William Hurt type), an older man with unnaturally bright blue eyes sits in a plush chair behind a desk. A guy who’s lived a tough life and now lives a life of overwhelming decadence. DEACON comes in, tough, but wary. Even he knows that THE BARON is a man to be respected. At the doors are guards dressed in all black, clutching crossbows with bright chrome arrows. THE BARON stands from his ornate desk to greet DEACON warmly. He approaches DEACON and speaks with a dangerously calculated warmth in his voice.

THE BARON: Deacon. Thank you for your time, do have a seat.

DEACON, a man who’s rough in every way, is uncomfortable with such decadent furniture. He cautiously takes a seat.

THE BARON: May I offer you a drink?

THE BARON opens the fanciest mahogany mini-fridge in the world. It pours cold steam from the doors as THE BARON pulls out a decanter filled with blood. THE BARON pours the blood into two whiskey glasses.

THE BARON: This…This is the blood of I believe of the brilliant Mr. Nikolai Tesla himself. Not much of it left. I tell you, Dracula and I had quite the adventure getting our hands on this one.
DEACON: You worked with Dracula? The original racer?
THE BARON: Heh, I certainly did. It seems so long ago. I used to be quite the racer myself, Deacon. I was the Great Racer’s right-hand man for many a century.
DEACON: Do you think it’s true? That he’s coming back?

THE BARON’s face grows a sour frown.

THE BARON: No. The humans made sure our beloved Great Racer would never ride again.

THE BARON falls back into his plush chair and takes a smooth sip from his glass.

THE BARON: But that’s why you’re here, my boy. I hear your racing is getting better with every sun’s rise.
DEACON: Racing’s in my veins.
THE BARON: So it is! Then you won’t need me to tell you how important it is we win the Clan Wars this year.
DEACON: Of course. Honor to our clan is everything.
THE BARON: This year’s race is about more than honor. I know you’ve only been around for a few decades, but this year, I need you to drive faster than you ever have before.
DEACON: Something special about this year?

THE BARON grins slyly as he looks deeply into his glass.

THE BARON: Very. But you let me worry about that. What you need to worry about, is getting a full team for the Clan Wars.
DEACON: We’ve already got the best right here, Baron.

THE BARON suddenly takes on a more hostile, incredibly serious tone. He’s pissed and he’s been holding his animosity back. We’re looking at an animal pressing against the cage door.

THE BARON: Is that why you let Phil get turned to dust?!
DEACON: Phil drives his own car. It ain’t my fault he got toasted.

THE BARON leaps out of his seat supernaturally, and lands in front of DEACON, jabbing a finger into DEACON’s chest.

THE BARON: But it IS your problem now! The Clan Wars demand FIVE racers from each clan! Do you understand me?! FIVE! Not four with one calling in sick. Not four with a pile of DUST in a leather jacket! FIVE! Our clan needs to win this year, and YOU need to find yourself a new racer before the next blood moon!

THE BARON smooths his hair and calmly turn his back on DEACON.

THE BARON: You better haul your undead ass. We don’t have much time left.

DEACON sets down his glass and heads for the door. Just as he walks past the two guards at the door, THE BARON speaks, his back still turned.

THE BARON: And Deacon?
THE BARON: Don’t just bring in any trash racer that can fill a seat. You make sure he’s good.

DANNY is impatiently sitting at a desk while DESK COP is filling out tedious paperwork. DANNY sighs.

DANNY: Is this going to take long?

DESK COP irritatingly lowers his pen.

DESK COP: I’m sorry Cinderella, did you have plans tonight?

DESK COP resumes his paperwork.

DESK COP: You race cars much?
DESK COP: Tch. I can tell.
DANNY (Grinning): I steal them.

DEACON and CAESAR are eyeing the Police Station DANNY is in from across the street in DEACON’s car.

CAESAR: HIM? You sure about this? He got pinched!
DEACON: Kid’s got moves. He just needed to steal a better car.

DEACON drives away, engine roaring.


DANNY is sitting at a table in cuffs, twiddling his thumbs in boredom. The door opens, and ARTEMIS (mid-20s female, badass) walks in. She’s in a business suit, sunglasses, and her hair is in a bun. She’s carrying a ledger, as she calmly seats herself into the chair across DANNY.

Danny: What do you guys want? I told you, I have no idea who those other racers were!

ARTEMIS: I’m not with the police, Danny.
DANNY: Oh. Well then, are you getting me out of here or what?
ARTEMIS looks at her nails, bored.
ARTEMIS: I’m ready to leave as soon as you are, Danny.

DANNY Holds up his wrists to show he’s handcuffed to the table.

DANNY: I don’t know what kind of lawyer you are, but maybe you haven’t noticed that I’m still handcuffed to the table?

ARTEMIS effortlessly grips and breaks the chains attaching the cuffs to the table. DANNY is startled by this effortless display of superhuman strength.

ARTEMIS: Come on. Quickly.

ARTEMIS and DANNY walk out of the room, ARTEMIS looking ahead confidently and not missing a beat. DANNY looks behind him to see two police officers in the hallway knocked out.


ARTEMIS and DANNY are briskly walking out of the station.

DANNY: I’m starting to think you’re not a lawyer.
ARTEMIS: I’m afraid I’m not the kind of bloodsucker you think I am.
DANNY: So what are you?
ARTEMIS: Something better.

DEACON pulls up swiftly in his car, surprising DANNY. ARTEMIS doesn’t react at all, as she opens the door and shoves DANNY into the back seat.


DANNY sits in the middle as ARTEMIS gets into the car and shuts the door. To his other side is CAESAR, eyeing him disapprovingly. In the front, DEACON is driving and KITSUNE (an Asian woman with bright pink hair and a steampunk-engineer style clothing) is sitting in the passenger seat, smoking an e-cig, bored.

DANNY: What the hell is going on here?
DEACON: Danny. Calm down. I’m-
DANNY: Hey aren’t you the guy from the race this morning?

CAESAR pulls out an embossed, fancy blue and gold switchblade knife. He points the tip to DANNY’s neck.

DEACON: Danny. I’m going to drive. You are going to sit and listen carefully while I try not to make this ride too bumpy for Caesar’s knife.

DANNY stares at CAESAR’s knife, terrified to move.

DEACON: When I am finished speaking, you are going to have to make a choice.

DANNY looks around in terror.

DEACON: There’s a world out there, Danny. A world you don’t know about. Vampires, Danny. I’m talking about vampires. They’re real, and they race cars.
DANNY: You have got to be kidding me.

KITSUNE turns in her seat to look at DANNY. Her eyes flash an unnaturally bright yellow as she bares her fangs, extending from her mouth. DANNY stares back wide-eyed and unsure of what to do.

DEACON: Whether you like it or not Danny, we exist. That is a fact. Now what I’m going to give you, is a choice.

DEACON is staring straight ahead as he drives, with his pitch black sunglasses on. KITSUNE eyes DANNY from her passenger-side mirror. We only see DANNY because vampires don’t have reflections!

DEACON: I need a racer, Danny. And you’re the best human racer I’ve seen in a long time. I need you on my team for a race. Which means, I need you to become a vampire.
DANNY: What happens if I say no? Cause I’m leaning towards “no”.
DEACON: Well then, I guess we’ll have to-


A chrome silver BMW convertible t-bones DEACON’s car. DEACON’s car spins through the air, as the passengers are all flipping like laundry in the dryer. Slow motion as the car and glass are flying everywhere. The car lands upside down. DANNY is rattled, he looks around him and the passengers are already out. DANNY crawls out of the wreckage to see DEACON, CAESAR, ARTEMIS and KITSUNE all perfectly fine, hissing at the chrome car that attacked them. The silver car calmly opens its doors, as 3 European men with bright white hair, pale skin, bright neon orange jackets and sunglasses step out. The driver is clearly the leader, a clean cut, taller man dressed in custom tailored, expensive street race clothes. He looks like a cross between a cartoon character and a NASCAR racer. His name is GABRIEL.

GABRIEL: Deacon, Deacon, Deacon. You need to watch the road. Your boys won’t win the Clan Wars with that kind of careless driving.
ARTEMIS: You tried to kill us!
GABRIEL: Me? Dear Artemis, I would never! Trying to kill a member of a rival clan before the Clan Wars violates the Treaty. And without honor, what are we?

DEACON growls back, unable to make a sentence. He rips off his sunglasses to show his glowing red eyes. GABRIEL’s men quickly pull out miniature crossbows with the same kind of silver arrows we saw THE BARON’s guards armed with.

GABRIEL: Don’t do anything rash, Deacon. That’s no way to treat guests in your territory. We’re just here to see the sights before the big race. Really take in the city of San Francisco before we rip the streets.
DEACON: Gabriel. I’m tired of hearing your gums flap. Let’s settle this like vampires. On the streets. We race now.

GABRIEL laughs.

GABRIEL: I would, but your car seems to be in need of repairs.

GABRIEL notices DANNY struggling out of the wreckage. GABRIEL walks calmly over to DANNY and bends down to talk to him.

GABRIEL: Ah. Another one joins the Deacon’s flock. I wonder how long you will last.

GABRIEL stares a cold, angry glare at DEACON.

GABRIEL: The Deacon isn’t known for keeping his herd safe.

GABRIEL frowns as he notices DANNY’s eyes aren’t glowing.

GABRIEL: Oh you haven’t turned yet, have you? Well I’d stay away from Deacon if I were you. Even immortality doesn’t seem to protect people around this one.
DEACON: Your brother died doing what he-

GABRIEL perks up.

GABRIEL: You know what, Deacon? I’ve changed my mind. Perhaps a little bit of racing will clear up this…unfortunate fender bender between us.

GABRIEL snaps his fingers and two more people in similar outfits as GABRIEL pull up in identical motorcycles.


GABRIEL and DEACON are on the motorcycles, revving them up. DANNY is being pulled up to his feet as ARTEMIS helps him up.

ARTEMIS: You okay?
DANNY: I think I cracked a few ribs.
ARTEMIS: Well. You’re about to see some cracked pride. Deacon’s as good on a bike as he is behind the wheel. Gabriel doesn’t know what he just got himself into.

GABRIEL jabs a finger at DEACON

GABRIEL: Let’s keep it real simple. First to the Inferno Bar and back. My boy here will drop the signal.
DEACON: Whatever.

POOCH, a henchman of GABRIEL’s, holds up a bright red silk handkerchief. The motorcycles roar in anticipation. POOCH throws down the handkerchief and the bikes take off. It’s neck and neck, as the two weave through the streets effortlessly. DEACON is slowly gaining the lead. GABRIEL is slowly getting frustrated. DEACON reaches the Inferno Bar first, popping a wheelie to spin and race back. GABRIEL growls as he sees DEACON heading for the finish line back. GABRIEL immediately turns around, ignoring the Inferno Bar he never reached. As GABRIEL desperately tries to catch up, he pulls from his holster a mini crossbow, and aims it at DEACON. As they near the finish line, GABRIEL instead points it at DANNY and fires.


DEACON swerves and peels out, losing his concentration. He falls short of the finish line as GABRIEL pulls up.

GABRIEL: The treaty’s only between monsters, Deacon. Nobody will give me grief for killing a snack.

GABRIEL cackles as he and his cronies take off.

DANNY’s vision fades as he pulls the silver arrow out of his chest.

DEACON: Danny! Damn it! Hang in there!

Thunder cracks as DANNY wakes up startled. He looks around in an unfamiliar room. The place looks like a basement, with some rough furniture. He immediately feels his teeth. They seem fine.

A metal door creaks as ARTEMIS walks down the stairs to greet DANNY. She keeps a cold indifferent attitude.

ARTEMIS: You okay?
DANNY: What happened?
ARTEMIS: You had an arrow in your chest. It lacerated an artery. Pierced your lung.

ARTEMIS takes off her sunglasses, and looks DEACON in the eyes sorrowfully.

ARTEMIS: Deacon says he’s sorry.
DANNY: Sorry? Sorry for what?
ARTEMIS: He’s sorry he took away your choice. It’s always supposed to be a choice. But Deacon needed you alive, and you weren’t responding.

DANNY scrambles and knocks a chair. The chair flies across the room. DANNY stares in shocked realization.

DANNY: No. No. No. No.

DANNY runs to an old dresser in the corner and rushes to the mirror. He starts touching his face in shock.

ARTEMIS: Deacon’s sorry, Danny.

We see the mirror shows nothing staring back at DANNY. Vampires don’t have reflections.

ARTEMIS: You’re part of the clan now.

DANNY looks back at ARTEMIS pleadingly.

DANNY: Change me back.
ARTEMIS: It doesn’t work that way.

Desperation gives way to anger. DANNY’s eyes glow green with anger. His fangs extend slowly in his mouth.


DANNY stares back at ARTEMIS, confused at her cold response to his obvious pain.

ARTEMIS: I know what you were before, Danny. Parents bailed on you. Schools and orphanages gave up on you. So you bailed on the world. You lived on the outskirts, trying to do whatever you could in a world that ignored you. Trying to live in a world that kept pushing you out. You’re part of something bigger now. You’re part of a world that demands secrecy. Demands loyalty. Demands honor. Now that you’re one of us Danny, the world doesn’t push you. We’re the ones pushing the world now.

DANNY clenches his fist.

DANNY: Where is he?
ARTEMIS: Upstairs. Fixing Vlad.
DANNY: Vlad?
ARTEMIS: Vlad the Impala. That’s Deacon’s car.
DANNY: That’s a stupid fucking name.

DANNY storms upstairs. He mutters to himself.

DANNY: Actually, that’s pretty good…

DEACON is fixing up Vlad, which looks pretty beat up. The garage is a warehouse, with the gang’s five cars, various parts on carts all over the place. There’s enough tools and parts to build anything one could want. Despite the beat-up walls and rough decor, the equipment is top of the line.


DEACON puts down his wrench and walks up to DANNY.

DEACON: Danny, I am really-

DANNY punches DEACON. DEACON calmly takes the punch and looks back at DANNY.

DEACON: Yeah. I deserve that. That’s the only one you get though, kid.
DANNY: You had no right!
DEACON: Kid, I wasn’t put on this earth to do the right things.

DANNY throws a second punch, DEACON catches it, stopping DANNY. Tools and things in the room shudder from the impact. DEACON stares back at DANNY seriously. DEACON’s eyes glow a fiery red.

DEACON: I said. One. Is all you get.

CAESAR pops up behind DANNY, the same knife held to DANNY’s neck again.

CAESAR: This warmblood giving you trouble, Deac?
DEACON: Back off, Caesar. I got this.

DANNY shakes his fist out of DEACON’s hand and storms off, heading for the door.

DEACON: Wouldn’t do that.
DANNY: Yeah, well, screw you or something.

DANNY opens the door and sees the sun off in the distance. The garage shades DANNY but his eyes immediately widen and his fangs bare as his eyes glow red. He falls back into the garage, clutching his smoking eyes.


DEACON: Vampires can’t go out in the day time. You think the sun’s hard to look at? Any bit of it touches you, and you can kiss that part goodbye. Sunlight turns us into ash.

DANNY: What about garlic?
DEACON: Yeah, we don’t like garlic.
DANNY: Holy water?
DEACON: Holy anything is a problem.
DANNY: And we can’t go into anywhere unless we’re invited?
DEACON: Well that’s just manners, Danny. But I didn’t get the parts for my car by politely asking. We can go wherever the hell we want, man.

DANNY, still clutching his face in pain, smacks his fist into a wall in defeat.

DANNY: So what am I supposed to do now?
DEACON: Most of us sleep during the day. But since I know your ass ain’t tryin to sleep anytime soon, you might as well go check out your car.
DANNY: My car?
DEACON: Can’t have a racer racing in a soapbox now, can I? Your car’s the last one on the right.

DANNY walks down the garage. CAESAR disrespectfully shoulder checks him, bumping him as they cross paths and shooting him an unwelcome gaze. DANNY sees ARTEMIS, goggles on as she’s fixing up her gray car. He passes KITSUNE, who’s sipping blood through a straw while listening to music as she sits on her bright orange car. Finally, he reaches the end, and sees a candy-coat crimson red Subaru. DANNY is impressed by what he sees, and runs his hand along the hood.

DANNY: No way.

DANNY reaches for the door handle. DEACON slams the door before he gets a chance to open it.

DEACON: Whoa there, you ain’t drivin’ that thing yet.
DANNY: Why not? You said this one’s mine.
DEACON: Before you can learn how to be a vampire street racer, you gotta learn how to be a vampire.
DANNY: You gonna teach me how to speak in an accent and wear goofy capes?
DEACON: Just wait til the sun sets, Danny.

DEACON flashes his fangs as his eyes glow a fiery red.

DEACON: I’m gonna teach you how to own the night.

DEACON and DANNY are standing on a rooftop, looking over San Francisco as the lights of the city glimmer. The Golden Gate Bridge is lit magnificently, twinkling. DEACON is wearing sunglasses and a sleeveless black tanktop. DANNY is wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket because of course he is.

DEACON: Welcome to the other side, Danny. This world, this is a world that lives in the shadows. We run the world in ways the humans will never understand.

DEACON takes off his sunglasses and wipes them with his shirt, smirking as he circles DANNY, sizing him up.

DEACON: Do you know what it’s like to stop aging? Time. Mortality. Those are worries for the bloodbags down there. Not for us though. We’re above all that.

DEACON throws his arms in the air, soaking in the night breeze.

DEACON: This is our world, now.
DANNY: So why street racing?
DANNY: Why are vampires street racing? You’re telling me we don’t age, we’re super strong, and we control everything worth having in this world. Why the hell do we spend our nights driving as fast as we can?

DEACON sits on the edge of the building, several stories above the ground, the cars far below are just faint moving dots.

DEACON: Take a seat kid. You’re about to hear the other side of the legends you’ve grown up hearing.

A full moon over a grassy hill, with blood dripping slowly down a dead hand. Sounds of slurping.

DEACON (voiceover): For years, our kind were feared.

We see the dead hand belongs to a villager, as a vampire is drinking his blood.

DEACON (voiceover): The Nosferatu. Vampires. Then…

Sounds of villagers with torches and pitchforks coming over the hill. Vampire reacts in fear.

DEACON (voiceover): We were hunted.

Time moves forward as we see vampires being hunted and brutally murdered by villagers. Wooden crossbows piercing heart turn vampires into a decaying mess.

DEACON (voiceover): For centuries, we ran.

Vampires fleeing and hiding, doing really cool parkour fluttery stuff. To show how evasive they are. Dodging villagers, then horseback riders


Tommy guns crackle as 1920s detectives in cars chasing down a crowd of vampires who are confidently and dodging them though alleyways and hopping onto rooftops.

DEACON (voiceover): Now, we don’t run. We ride.

We see vampire greasers in the 1960s laughing excitedly as they’re evading police in their hot rod. They hoot and holler like a rowdy gang of teenagers, blood running down the side of their grinning mouths.

DEACON (voiceover): Our culture has evolved. We do all sorts of things, Danny. But no matter what era we’re in, we are always going to be feared.

A crowd of street race vampire punks are cheering as we see A LOT OF EXPENSIVE LOOKING CARS. Their engines howling, Saliva’s song “CLICK CLICK BOOM” is blasting.

DEACON (voiceover): Always going to be hunted. Always on the run. Running is survival. We are the hunters who will always be hunted, Danny.

The vampire punks all flee, hissing as they look off into the horizon. The sun’s rising.

DEACON (voiceover): Racing is in our veins, Danny. Being faster than the rest is our destiny. You want to race, don’t race to survive.

Engines rev as the cars lower their tops. The sun starts creeping up.

DEACON (voiceover): Race to live.

The cars take off, barely escaping the sun. The cars blitz down the streets, weaving back and forth between obstacles and other cars. The sunlight nipping at the heels of the cars as the engines roar. The cars take over into the horizon along the Golden Gate Bridge.


DANNY sits on the edge with DEACON, looking off into the night sky.

DANNY: So how many of us are there?
DEACON: There’s clans around the world, Danny. Each clan led by an elder. We control our territories, with a…loose peace.
DANNY: Vampires fight each other?
DEACON: Technically, the truce doesn’t let us attack other vampires. The consequences would be the might of every clan bearing down on us.

DEACON stands up and starts walking away.

DEACON: So we settle it with racing.

DANNY clutches his stomach in obvious hunger.

DANNY: Hey, am I gonna have to kill something? I’m starting to get…
DEACON: Hungry? Follow me, kid.


DEACON opens the door to a dingy convenience store, walking in casually. DANNY follows, slightly confused. The bell jingles as the door slowly closes. A pale, unassuming clerk is standing at the counter, bored as he reads a magazine. DEACON heads for the sodas, and opens the door, eyeing which soda he’s going to get.

DANNY: I thought we were going to get some…you know.
DEACON: Blood? Danny. We’re vampires, not monsters. Now do you like orange or strawberry soda?

DANNY shows DEACON his fangs, in mild irritation.

DANNY: I don’t think soda’s gonna cut it, Deacon.

DEACON calmly smiles. He ignores DANNY’s obvious impatience.

DEACON: You’re right. We need chips!

DEACON grabs a ginger ale and then heads for the chips aisle, grabbing a bright orange bag of cheese puffs.

DEACON: I know we’re all buff and ripped, but street racing actually doesn’t require a good body. We should eat whatever the hell we want.

DEACON grabs a jerky stick and heads for the magazines, scanning his eyes for a specific one.

DEACON: Ooh nice. Newest Muscle Car Monthly’s in.

DEACON grabs the car magazine and heads for the cashier. DANNY is bewildered at DEACON’s calmness to the growing hunger. DEACON spills the various items on the counter. The worker stares blankly at DEACON, and eyes the items, punching in their various prices. The register beeps $21.83. DEACON pulls from his pocket an ancient ornate coin with a pentagram design, and slides it onto the counter. The cashier sighs and pushes a button on the register. A door in the back makes a click. The red light bulb above it softly dims on. DEACON grabs the magazine, and winks at the cashier as he leads DANNY to the door.


DEACON and DANNY are walking down stairs, as DEACON casually flips through the magazine.

DEACON: Back in the day, we had to lure a dumb ass villager away from their farm just to get a meal. We’d use bait, bark like dogs, anything. It was pretty bad, man. But now we live in a world of connections, trade, transportation, and professional packaging, god damn it! Welcome to the 21st century, Danny!

They reach the bottom of the stairs, to a very clean underground convenience store, almost in the exact same architecture as the fake one above. Instead of various drinks, the refrigerators are filled with blood packets, with various small labels. The shelves are filled with a bizarre variety of items, from vacuum sealed rats to high end toothbrushes. A few vampires in gothic clothing are casually browsing an aisle, with a handbasket filled with various supplies.

DEACON: We don’t kill humans, Danny. That’s a waste of time. You know why there’s a blood donor shortage? Because we rob them. All the time. They’re easy pickings, Danny. They’re giving their blood away in neat little packages, and it’s there for the taking.
DANNY: Wait, but we still gotta pay for it right? How do I pay for this?

DEACON opens a fridge door and pulls out a few packs of blood. He tosses one to DANNY.

DEACON: You pay for it by racing for me, kid. I take care of my crew. Stay in my crew, and you can have anything you want.

DEACON grabs a new rear view mirror, the bags of blood, and a new toothbrush. He puts them on the counter where a bored vampire reading a vampire magazine is waiting. DEACON pays in bright red cash that has a picture of Calvin Coolidge on the front, but in Dracula-style clothing. DANNY raises an eyebrow at the toothbrush, smirking. DEACON looks back at DANNY.

DEACON: I don’t know what you’re laughing at, this is yours. You ain’t brushed your teeth since we turned you.

DEACON tosses DANNY the toothbrush as they leave.

DEACON: Your breath’s been stinkin’ worse than garlic.

DEACON and DANNY are in their cars, facing a long empty freeway. They’re revving their cars as they get ready to race.

DEACON: Now you take care of that car. It’s one of my best.

DANNY salutes mockingly.

DEACON: Last one back to the garage gives the cars a wax job. We got one week til the Clan Wars. I need you to show me what you got.
DANNY: I’ve raced my whole life, Deac. I think I can handle a little midnight underground street-racing.

DEACON laughs, in his low, deep voice. Because that’s how Vin Diesel laughs.

DEACON: Hahah, that’s cute. The Clan Wars ain’t at night, kid.
DANNY: What?
DEACON: Clan Wars are about honor and high stakes. We race at dawn.
DANNY: But won’t the sun…?
DEACON: Yeah. You don’t drive fast enough, you’ll get toasted. Bye bye, immortality. Oh yeah, and one more thing you should probably know.

DEACON pokes his head out the window and points to the horizon behind them.

DEACON: In about 30 seconds, the sun’s going to rise.
DANNY: What?!
DEACON: When my team practices, we practice like it’s the real thing. Now you better get your ass in gear. Sunlight’s one of the most painful ways for our kind to die.

DEACON takes off inside his car. DANNY sees the sun rising in his rear view mirror.

DANNY: Oh jeez. Oh man, oh man.

The sun starts to rise. DANNY frowns very seriously, and the engine roars. DANNY takes off at breakneck speed, rubber peeling as he races at top speed for the garage.

The cars jockey for position. DANNY, while clearly a competent driver is still getting to know his car.


DEACON rips off his sunglasses and bares his fangs as his fist clenches around the top of chrome skull on his gear shift stick. DEACON’s eyes glow that bright fiery red and his grip around the wheel tightens. We see the interiors of DEACON’s car chugging along as mystical red flames wrap themselves, snaking in and out around the pipes of the engine, pouring into the pistons. The engine roars in excitement, overclocking with a sudden burst of supernatural energy.


DEACON’s car glimmers in an aura of red energy, the same kind we see in DEACON’s eyes as his car gains a tremendous lead. DANNY is stunned at DEACON’s supernatural aura and mystically charged speeds.


DANNY frantically scans the dials looking for some kind of nitro boost. His eyes lock on a red button with a piece of tape over which someone has written, “BITE-TRO” He smiles, but his search has cost him. He’s now lagging behind a few paces.

DANNY: Let’s see what you can do!

DANNY slams the button, in lieu of a boost, his car horn beeps a tacky song. DANNY’s eyes widen in disbelief as nothing else happens to his car. He looks up to see DEACON giving him the finger from his car ahead of him.

DANNY realizes that catching up is going to take a little fancy driving. He looks up and the camera follows his gaze to a piece of modern art on the corner that DEACON’s approaching. DANNY smiles once more.

DANNY: So you wanna play games? Let’s do it!!!

DANNY guns it and veers right towards the modern art sculpture. It acts as a ramp, sending DANNY’s car into the air. We’re treated to a badass slow motion shot of DANNY weaving through traffic. DEACON looks up incredulous as DANNY returns the middle finger. DANNY’s car lands and swerves slightly but it corrects itself. He’s in the lead. Danny laughs, the triumphant winner. He looks back to affirm his status. When his eyes return to the road he’s shocked. A feeble bag lady has pushed a shopping cart into the road directly in his path. DANNY has a millisecond to respond He veers right demolishing a newsstand on the street. The newsstand costs DANNY the lead as DEACON zooms by.


DANNY looks in his rear view mirror and the sun is catching up. We see the sunlight hitting the ground, mere inches away from DANNY’s car. The sun is clearly going to overtake him.

DANNY: Dammit!​

The sunlight briefly glances the car, and the car ever so softly smokes from where the sunlight hit it, almost as if the car could melt too.

DANNY: Come on, come on…

DANNY slams his foot, pedal to the ground, as he expertly shifts gears. He grits his teeth. It looks like he’s not going to make it.

In a flash of brilliance Danny looks up. A mobile billboard truck is going on the freeway above him.


The truck advertises “Smith Loans: When You’re All Out of Options” DANNY guns it out into the sun and follows the trucks shadow along the street. He weaves expertly dodging people and tensely staying in the small square of shadow provided by the truck.

In the far distance, he sees the garage. The garage door flies open, showing a tunnel to underground. DEACON’s car zooms in. But DANNY’s still pretty far out. The sunlight is nipping right at his heels. DANNY clenches his fanged teeth.


DANNY’s car pulls in at a screeching halt, leaving tire burns the whole way in. He sits in the car, slightly shocked he survived it all. He exhales a sigh of relief. DEACON is calmly wiping his hands off with a towel.

DEACON: You’re gonna have to move faster than that if you want to win the Clan Wars, Danny.

DANNY climbs out of the door and slams it, trying to catch up to DEACON.

DANNY: How did you do that?! Y-your car! it started glowing all red! And-and-
DEACON: Simple. I wanted to live.
DANNY: I wanted to live too!
DEACON: No, you didn’t.
DANNY: I don’t know what you’re-
DEACON: You wanted to survive. There’s a difference, Danny. Tell me. When you saw that sunlight, when you felt the burn in your eyes, and the heat on your skin, what did you feel in here?

DEACON taps DANNY’s chest, pointing to his heart.

DEACON: You felt fear. You felt mortal. You felt like a human again. When I race, I don’t feel any of that. I just feel the chase. I feel the speed.

DEACON’s eyes glow a fiery red again.

DEACON: Don’t race to survive, Danny. Race to live. When you become one with the car, one with the race, you’ll find yourself tapping into powers unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

DEACON thrusts into DANNY some rags and a bottle of car wax.

DEACON: Now I believe you have some cars to clean.

An old gothic library. THE BARON’s guards stand outside. The engine revving of several cars obnoxiously roar as we see several chrome street racing cars pull up to the old haunt.


Inside, the library is even more gothic and ornate than the exterior. There’s a sense of ancient traditions and meticulous care with the entire place. On the shelves are all very old leatherbound books, grimoires, and random occult objects. Two guards patrol, walking between the shelves. THE BARON is sitting at an ornate desk, scribbling with a quill in an ancient book, when the doors burst open. GABRIEL and his gang stroll through, sunglasses on like they’re uppity badasses. THE BARON’s guards perk up at the intrusion, THE BARON doesn’t react at all.

GABRIEL: Gotta say, Baron. I thought the clan leader of the west coast would live a little more…lavishly.
THE BARON: My parlor room is for entertainment. But we, my dear Gabriel…

THE BARON closes the book and stands up calmly, his hands clasped behind his back.

THE BARON: We are here for business. Have you acquired the amulet?

GABRIEL nods to one of his gang members, who bring forward a small wooden box. The gang member opens to box to show a golden badge, the kind that Dracula wore for on his cape. THE BARON raises an eyebrow in approval.

THE BARON: And your clan leader, The Captain? Does he know about your…liberation of this artifact from his archives?
GABRIEL: Doesn’t even know it’s missing. That old mosquito won’t miss it. He barely cares about the Clan Wars. He’s distracted with…other pursuits.

THE BARON smiles as he cordially takes the amulet/box from GABRIEL’s henchman.

THE BARON: I’m well aware of The Captain’s obsessions.

THE BARON turns around, and walks away.

GABRIEL: Aren’t you forgetting something?What about your end of the bargain?

THE BARON snaps his fingers and ancient walls in the library pull away to reveal a podium. On it rests an open briefcase with glowing red vials in it.

THE BARON: Help yourselves.

GABRIEL grins a fanged smile as he picks up one of the glowing red vials and examines it.

GABRIEL: Blood Nitrous. It’s real.

THE BARON eyes GABRIEL unimpressed.

THE BARON: There’s not much left, but it’s real and it works. These turned the tide for our beloved Great Racer and myself in our racing days.

GABRIEL’s eyes glimmer with greed. THE BARON, bored, walks away again.

GABRIEL: You know if I use this, I’ll be faster. Faster than even your racers. You’re really gonna throw this year’s Clan Wars away? For some silly medallion?

THE BARON, back turned to everyone, gives a slight grin.

THE BARON: Gabriel, when you’re as old as I am, you’ll learn that there’s vampire street racing isn’t everything.

DANNY is finishing up waxing a candy coated gray, not silver, car. ARTEMIS walks in.

ARTEMIS: Better be extra careful, with that car, Danny.
DANNY: Why? Who’s car is this?
ARTEMIS: That car? It’s mine. So you better show it some love.

ARTEMIS flashes her fangs and her eyes swirl completely black. They don’t glow like the other vampires we’ve seen so far.

DANNY: Hey, how come your fangs look different from everyone else’s?
ARTEMIS: You’re very observant.

ARTEMIS sits on the hood of her car.

ARTEMIS: It’s because I’m not like the others, Danny.
DANNY: What are you?
ARTEMIS: Hm. Maybe you’re not as clever as I thought.

ARTEMIS walks off. DANNY wipes his hands off and follows.

ARTEMIS: So you’re having trouble tapping into your undead abilities for the race.
DANNY: Who told you that?
ARTEMIS: No one. It’s obvious. And I know what’s holding you back.
DANNY: What?
DANNY: What do I have to be afraid of? I’m practically immortal now, right?
ARTEMIS: You’re afraid that every time you get behind that wheel, you’re losing your humanity. But there’s something you need to know, Danny. Clan Wars are coming, and there’s only one way you’ll have a chance of winning.
DANNY: What’s that?
ARTEMIS: You have to give in to monster in you, Danny.
DANNY: What if I don’t want to become a monster?
ARTEMIS: I saw the look in your eyes before we changed you. You don’t care about your fellow man. You were a monster before you joined us. Being a monster isn’t a bad thing, Danny.

ARTEMIS walks away. DANNY doesn’t follow this time. He’s taking in what ARTEMIS said.

ARTEMIS: Don’t be afraid of the power when you become a monster. Just be afraid of what you do with it.

GABRIEL and his crew are walking out of the Library. GABRIEL is clutching the briefcase preciously. One of his gang members, POOCH, comes up to him concerned.

POOCH: Think that was a good idea, man? If The Captain finds out we stole from him-
GABRIEL: We’ll be exiled. I don’t care. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had that happen.

GABRIEL gets into his car, throwing the briefcase into the passenger seat. He talks to POOCH through his car window.

POOCH: So when do we get our cut?
GABRIEL: “Your” cut isn’t in the plan. We run the Clan Wars the way we always do. I have other plans for the Nitrous Blood.

GABRIEL and his gang take off, their cars roaring. Lightning flashes as THE BARON eyes them leaving from his window.


THE BARON gives a coy smile, eying the amulet. The door to his room taps gently.


An armed HENCHMAN opens the door.

HENCHMAN: My liege. Your ride is ready.
THE BARON: Excellent. I’ll be down shortly.

THE BARON tucks the amulet in his pocket. We see on his desk there are ancient texts with drawings of the amulet. Also scattered on his desk are a smattering of ancient maps of the United States and San Francisco’s streets.


A gothic castle, it is clear that different groups are arriving, because the groups wear internally consistent clothing. From goth Europeans to suit wearing Asians, there’s a little bit of everyone around the world here. THE BARON arrives in a black limousine with his guards, greeted formally. DEACON and his crew are sitting on their cars outside, sizing up the different groups walking in. CAESAR is drinking blood from a whiskey bottle, and passing it around to the rest of the crew, who take turns sipping it while watching the arrivals.

DANNY: We’re not allowed inside?

CAESAR scoffs condescendingly.

CAESAR: Cool your jets, warmblood. It’s just a meeting between the elders. You have one more night before you prove how useless you are.

DANNY is irritated by the hostility.

DEACON: The Baron will tell us the outcome.
DANNY: Outcome of what?
CAESAR: Outcome of this year’s terms. Every year, a different clan hosts the Clan Wars in their home territory. They hold this meeting to agree on the conditions of the race. Sometimes, a clan wants things different, like a motorcycle race or elimination bracket.
DANNY: What do we want?
DEACON: We want them to hurry their ancient asses up so we can start driving already.

A raggedy tow truck, rusted and made of mis-colored parts sputters loudly as it pulls up. It is towing a strangely shaped car under the a dirty brown tarp. The car beneath the tarp appears to be softly twitching on its own. The tow truck shudders as it parks, looking like it’s ready to fall apart at any second.

CAESAR takes a swig from his bottle, unimpressed.

CAESAR: Every goddamn year with this guy.
DANNY: Who’s that?

The tow truck door swings open and an eccentrically dressed older man (think Christoph Waltz) proudly hops out, straightening his coat and dusting off his shoulders. He wears a derby hat, and a long gray coat. He tips his hat to us and walks in with a smug smile on his face, accompanied by no one.

DEACON: Dr. Frankenstein.
DANNY: *The* Dr. Frankenstein? That story was written ages ago.
DEACON: Not the original. His son. Still carries on the same damn work though. He banks on his old man’s reputation, but I’ve never seen him make a car that gets past the starting line.

DANNY watches curiously as DR. FRANKENSTEIN hops up the steps jovially to the meeting. DANNY’s eyes pan over to the tow truck, where the thing under the tarp is still moving about violently. The roar of motorcycles is heard in the distance.

ARTEMIS: God dammit.

ARTEMIS looks away, trying not to be noticed. The roars get louder and louder as a fleet of obnoxiously loud motorcycles zoom in. The group driving them is looking like a classic 90s motorcycle gang. Lots of denim, lots of leather, and lots of unnecessary accessories on their clothes. Mohawks, beards, piercings, everything.

CAESAR: And here comes the competition.

The bikers are loud and obnoxious, but clearly a close-knit gang. They spit and curse as they make their way to the castle. CAESAR flashes his fangs at one of the members in a challenging act. The biker looks actually angry at this disrespect. The biker mockingly makes a cross with his fingers at CAESAR and moves on with the rest of the group, laughing. CAESAR doesn’t take to the gesture well and clenches his fist, shattering the empty bottle in his hand.


The head of the clans are gathered around in a forum, like the kind you’d see in a town hall. Their groups are lined standing against the back, carefully eyeing each other in distrust. THE BARON calmly walks towards the podium with his guards at his side.

THE BARON: To the Masters and Madames of the clans, it is a pleasure to see you again as always. Take a look around. Do you realize what we have formed?

THE BARON gestures warmly to the variety and smattering of people before him.

THE BARON: We have formed a society. We are no longer the ones hunted. We are the ones who hunt. Through the treaty, we have taken more from mankind’s world than we could ever have taken on our own.

The clan leaders nod their heads in agreement.

THE BARON: Now I know there has been talk circulating in the past year, and before we discuss this year’s Clan Wars, I want to address these rumors.

THE BARON looks solemn as he delivers the news.

THE BARON: There are rumors that The Great Racer, Dracula will return this year. That despite being slain, a stake driven through his heart and his body turned to ash by the wretched Van Helsings, that the count who led us into prosperity will rise again this year. That he can never truly die, being the first of the damned.

THE BARON looks at the leaders sternly.

THE BARON: These rumors are false. I was Count Dracula’s right-hand man. I witnessed his death, and I killed those who took our master from us. I have spent the last century pouring over the prophecies and texts. And I regret to say there is no way The Great Racer will return.

THE BARON bows his head in sadness.

THE BARON: There are other rumors that have circulated amongst monsters this year too. Those rumors are true. The NASferatu are not as strong as we were under The Great Racer’s rule. The Lycan’s numbers grow smaller with every full moon. We monsters…are dying out. We are on the brink of extinction.

The clan leaders look around, realizing the weakness of their rivals and the weakness of their own clan.

THE BARON: These are simply the facts. But they are not the future. I believe our best times are ahead of us. I believe that united, we will grow to be more powerful than we have ever been before. This year’s blood moon is the strongest one we will see in over a hundred years.

THE BARON looks around, gauging the leaders, seeing if his words convince them. He pulls a blood red leather book.

THE BARON: You all know what this is. The Book of Prophecies. It speaks of powers this year’s Blood Moon can grant us. But only if we work together.

The clan leaders are on the edge of their seat, suddenly interested.

THE BARON: The Blood Moon brings us pure power. Power for those who hunt. Those who chase. Those who ride. My territory happens to be the closest point to this year’s Blood Moon, and I have determined a route that is sure to grant us untold power. Power to resist the sun. Power to defeat the humans.

THE BARON waves the book and earnestly talks to the intrigued crowd.

THE BARON: We will need our best racers to drive at their absolute fastest under this moon. The faster your members go, the more power they will channel to their clans. Together, we can fight the edge of extinction!

The clan leaders cheer. The crowd cheers. THE BARON cheers with them, inciting them all.

THE BARON: So now you see the importance of this race. But we are not racing to destroy each other. Remember. The more of our racers who make it to the finish line, the more power they can bring back to us all. So I urge you. Tell your racers, that for this race, speed is EVERYTHING. We must push our racers to go faster than they ever have before!

THE BARON gets the crowd riled up.

THE BARON: Now celebrate tonight! For tomorrow, we ride!

The crowd cheers loudly in excitement. A swarm of butlers come from the sides, carrying trays of blood red champagne for everyone.


DEACON and his crew sitting on their cars outside hear the cheering inside the castle.

DEACON: Looks like the Clan Wars have begun. Hope you’re ready kid. No matter what the treaty says, anything can happen on the road.

The various clans are exiting and taking off. THE BARON and his guards walk out, towards DEACON. DEACON calmly waits for THE BARON to approach him.

DEACON: Baron.
THE BARON: Deacon. Looks like you found yourself a new recruit.

THE BARON looks at DANNY, sizing him up and disapproving.

DEACON: The Clan Wars are under way. Should be a good race this year.
THE BARON: Deacon, I think this one is going to be an absolute thriller. Make sure you drink well tonight, the race begins tomorrow.

DEACON, ARTEMIS, and KITSUNE take off in their cars. DANNY is about to get into his car when CAESAR stops him.

CAESAR: Hey warmblood, I gotta talk to you a second.
DANNY: What do you want, Caesar?
CAESAR: I just want to-

The motorcycle gang CAESAR taunted earlier rolls in, circling CAESAR and DANNY loudly. They whoop and holler, taunting the two.

BIKER 1: Not so tough now, huh?
BIKER 2: Where’s the rest of your lil gang, bloodsucker?

CAESAR looks alert and wide-eyed. He’s ready to fight, but he knows he won’t win. The biker gang park their cars between CAESAR and his car. They step off their bikes, carry a variety of chains, knives, and other cliche biker weapons. CAESAR defensively pulls out his switchblade and protectively pulls DANNY behind him.

BIKER 1: You. You were a bit of an asshole to me earlier, weren’t you?
CAESAR: Seems like most people would be an asshole to you. You sure you don’t have me confused with someone else?

BIKER 1 is not amused at CAESAR’s sass. BIKER 1 pops a knife with a gleaming silver blade.

BIKER 1: Maybe you’re the one who made a mistake. Maybe you don’t know who we are, huh?
CAESAR: Yeah. I know you guys. The Wild Boyz. Lycan. Way to make us look like a bunch of Hot Topic teens.

The Bikers hiss angrily at CAESAR.

BIKER 1: Haha yes! And you are Caesar. The vampire famous for his money. Not so much for his racing.

BIKER 1 eyes CAESAR’s car.

BIKER 1: You know, you can only pour so much money into a car until you need to actually start having some skill.
CAESAR: I seem to be beating you guys fine without any.

BIKER 2 wraps a chain around CAESAR’s neck from behind, choking him out.

BIKER 1: Treaty or not, you don’t disrespect the Wild Boyz. We hunt. We kill. You die.
CAESAR: Hkkk- cakkkk — sssss
BIKER 1: What’s that?

CAESAR’s eyes flare with a fiery deep blue.

CAESAR: I…said…I don’t think so.

CAESAR flips BIKER 2 into the other bikers. He grabs DANNY and leaps supernaturally high, landing them in front of DANNY’s car. They hop into DANNY’s car and take off. The Wild Boyz howl and get on the bikes, chasing the two.


DANNY is driving frantically. CAESAR is eyeing the bikers on their tail.

DANNY: What are we supposed to do?!
CAESAR: Drive. The clans are having a party at the Inferno Club. Lycan wouldn’t dare break the treaty in front of the elders.

The Wild Boyz are pulling up on the sides of DANNY’s car, howling and attacking his car with chains. BIKER 2 breaks the passenger side window with a chain, shattering the glass. CAESAR grabs the chain, pulling in BIKER 3 and cuts his head off with his personal knife. The head bounces down the side of the street as more Wild Boyz pursue them. It looks like it’s going to be trouble, but DANNY is a damn good driver. He cuts through gas stations and alleys, shaking off various Wild Boyz.


The Inferno Club is loud with music, and the parking lot is brimming with high end street cars. Vampires of all kinds are drinking and laughing outside. DANNY’s car comes screeching in, startling the other vampires. They think DANNY is going to barrel right through them, but he stops in a cool, controlled motion. The Wild Boyz pull up to the skirts of the parking lot, and then turn around and take off, revving their bikes loudly and popping wheelies in anger. DANNY and CAESAR sit in their chairs, breathing sighs of relief.

CAESAR: Good one, warmblood.
DANNY: Why do you keep calling me that?
CAESAR: Cause you’re new. And because you don’t belong.
DANNY: I’m busting my ass trying to make the best of this, and you’re-
CAESAR: See. Right there. “Make the best of this”. That’s your goddamn problem. The rest of the NASferatu, when we took this up, we did it by choice. We chose this life Danny. We live it every day knowing we could have died human.

CAESAR has a look of seriousness, and perhaps vulnerability, that we haven’t seen from him before. DANNY is slightly stunned at seeing the real CAESAR. The person behind the riches and bravado.

CAESAR: But you didn’t make that choice Danny. You just woke up and became one of us. Without understanding, without caring. Being one of us is an unfortunate burden thrust upon you. And I don’t like that. I know who I am, Danny. I’m a monster.

CAESAR opens the car door, and heading for the Inferno Club.

CAESAR: But do you know who you are? Are you one of us? Because I can’t race with you until we both know for sure.

DANNY sits in the his car, contemplating CAESAR’s words.


DANNY opens the staircase door to find DEACON sitting on the rooftop, drinking blood by himself and staring at the city lights.

DANNY: You’re missing quite the party.
DEACON: Is Caesar trying to turn into a goddamn bat again?
DANNY: Yeah. He swears he did it once.

DEACON chuckles as he takes a swing from a bottle.

DEACON: I believe he believes he did it once.
DANNY: So we can’t transform into bats or fog or anything?
DEACON: So far as I know. I heard the elder vampires can transform, but I’ve never seen it, and the nice thing about being immortal is you can live long enough to only believe the things you see with your own two eyes.

DEACON takes another swig from his bottle.

DEACON: Caesar being an asshole to you?
DANNY: Nah, he’s cool. He cares a lot about the team.
DEACON: Every part of my crew does. What it takes to win the Clan Wars makes us tighter than any kind of family I’ve ever had.
DANNY: Tch. Family.
DEACON: What’s wrong with family, Danny?
DANNY: Don’t have it. Don’t care for it. My old man left when I was 22. I’ve got a brother, but he’s not that interesting.
DEACON: Family’s not who you’re born with, Danny. Your family is the people you look out for. Who you sacrifice for.

DEACON takes another swig from his bottle, and stares up at the moon.

DEACON: So what brings you up here?
DANNY: Well, you haven’t told me how this race works yet. Or what the Clan Wars even are.
DEACON: It’s like any kind of race, Danny. We drive. We win.
DANNY: Okay. That doesn’t really expl-
DEACON: Team of up to 5 per clan. Race starts at dawn. First to the finish line wins for the clan.
DANNY: Why teams of five?
DEACON: Driving’s dangerous, Danny. Who knows what could happen on the road.

DANNY sits next to DEACON.

DANNY: Are you worried?
DEACON: Never.

The door opens, and GABRIEL walks in, cautiously.

GABRIEL: Deacon.

DANNY lunges for GABRIEL. GABRIEL deflects the tackle, as DANNY crashes through a chimney.

GABRIEL: Out of my way, warmblood. I’m here for Deacon.
DEACON: This ain’t your rooftop, Gabriel. You better find your way back downstairs.
GABRIEL: I need to talk to you.

DEACON faces GABRIEL aggressively.

DEACON: You already had your shot to sabotage us, asshole. You don’t get two. Now get the hell off my roof before I take you off of it the fast way.

GABRIEL tries to calm DEACON down.

GABRIEL: I need to talk to you in private.

DEACON walks aggressively towards GABRIEL, eyes flaring, and throws GABRIEL into a wall. GABRIEL’s eyes flare a silvery white as he throws DEACON through a brick wall. It’s two bulls fighting in a china shop as DEACON and GABRIEL trade blows, turning bricks into dust and breaking everything like it’s made of styrofoam. DANNY tries to fight too, but he’s thrown like a ragdoll as GABRIEL and DEACON show off their supernatural strength. Finally, DEACON pulls out from his belt a silver knife, and pins GABRIEL to the wall, knife to neck.

DEACON: You trashed Vlad the Impala. I’ve killed people for just scratching it.
GABRIEL: That was games. You know how it goes. Clan Wars bring it out of all of us. I never repaid you for killing my brother last Clan War.

DEACON calms down a bit, knowing GABRIEL is right. GABRIEL pulls himself up and straightens himself out. He eyes DANNY.

GABRIEL: Can we speak in privacy?
DEACON: Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my crew. I don’t recruit squealers.
GABRIEL: This is too big to trust anyone.
DEACON: Then we’re done talking.

DEACON starts to walk away. GABRIEL is desperate to tell DEACON whatever it is that he came here for.

GABRIEL: Have you heard about the Blood Moon prophecy?
DEACON: I’ve heard lots of prophecies.
GABRIEL: How many of them have you seen come true?

DEACON’s eyes flare angrily.

DEACON: Just one.
GABRIEL: So you know they can be true.
DEACON: I also know they can be lies.
GABRIEL: That’s what I’m here to talk to you about. The elders… they’re keeping secrets from us.
DEACON: The elders have always been that way.
GABRIEL: They’re planning something with the return of The Great Racer, Deacon.

DEACON looks back at GABRIEL, stunned by the possibility of such an event being possible.

DEACON: No. The Baron said-
GABRIEL: The Baron’s in on it. Do you know what happens at this blood moon, Deacon?
DEACON: Moon gets bigger and redder. That’s it.
GABRIEL: That’s wrong.

GABRIEL motions around himself.

GABRIEL: The elders want us to drive faster than ever before. Perhaps you heard that? It wasn’t just pep talk.

GABRIEL looks up at the orangish moon. Tomorrow it’ll be red. Blood red.

GABRIEL: I’ve done my reading. There’s an ancient amulet. Belonged to the Great Racer himself. The prophecy says that if when that amulet reaches a certain speed, it can open the gates to The Resting Place.
DEACON: Well it’s a good thing nobody knows where it is.
GABRIEL: Actually, I gave it to The Baron earlier tonight.
DANNY: Why would you do that?!

GABRIEL looks annoyed at DANNY, who has no place in this conversation.

GABRIEL: The Baron was going to get that amulet one way or another. I wanted to see what he if he’d share his finding at the meeting. He didn’t. He’s plotting something, Deacon. He’s after something in the Resting Place.
DEACON: The Great Racer’s grave?
GABRIEL: Yes. You know what’s in there, don’t you?
DANNY: Dracula’s body?

GABRIEL looks annoyed at DANNY again.

GABRIEL: Yes. But more importantly, the Chalice of the Great Racer. And that chalice has very special powers.
DEACON: What kind of powers?
GABRIEL: The kind that let you become the greatest, most powerful vampire of all.
DANNY: The chalice grants you the powers of Dracula himself?
GABRIEL: That kind of power doesn’t just disappear. It has to go somewhere. Right now, it rests in the chalice, waiting to be claimed.

DEACON realizes the gravity of the situation. He releases GABRIEL from the wall.

DEACON: So if someone else were to take those powers…
GABRIEL: Whoever inherits that power would be able to destroy the treaty and rule all the clans for himself.
DEACON: So what the hell do you want me to do?
GABRIEL: You’re a damn good racer, Deacon. I knew that. Always have.

GABRIEL extends his hand, offering a truce.

GABRIEL: But we both know no elder is fit to take The Great Racer’s place. Only Dracula himself was able to rule us all, and personally, I prefer democracy over tyranny. This treaty, it keeps our clans at peace. We were never meant to be ruled. If we somehow open that tunnel, we need to make sure nobody touches that chalice.

DEACON thinks about it.

DEACON: You’re right. The clans are better off now as they are now. We can’t go back to a monarchy.

DEACON shakes GABRIEL’s hand.

DEACON: Only the fastest get in? So what do we do if someone else opens that tunnel?

GABRIEL pulls out from his pocket 5 of the glowing red vials of Nitrous Blood.

GABRIEL: We follow them, and throw them the hell out. The Baron thinks I just want to win the Clan Wars. He won’t be ready to fight us while we’re using this.


A garage filled with exciting and lavishly painted cars. The various gangs are clustered with their teammates, in similar dressed clothing. DEACON, DANNY, ARTEMIS, CAESAR, and KITSUNE are standing together, eying the other gangs.

DEACON: Everyone clear on the plan?
CAESAR: Same plan as always. Get fast, and get first.

KITSUNE pops her gum, uncaring.

ARTEMIS: And we bump off anybody who looks like they’re gonna go faster than us.
DANNY: Is that banned in the Clan Wars?

CAESAR laughs.

CAESAR: They’re called the Clan Wars, not the Clan Picnic, Danny.

CAESAR eyes a group of werewolves cackling and excitedly making last minute adjustments to their spiked, dangerous looking cars.

CAESAR: Taking out the competition’s been the way our kind does things since before the races.

A loud sputtering and clanking interrupts the scene, as DR. FRANKENSTEIN pushes his car in, slowly pushing in the mysterious vehicle, white tarp still on it.

DR. FRANKENSTEIN: Excuse us. Pardon us. Excuse.

The other racers sneer and look at him disapprovingly. DR. FRANKENSTEIN proudly pushes his car to the middle, for all to see.

DR. FRANKENSTEIN: Ladies and gentlemen! Sorry, my apologies. I mean creatures and abominations to mankind!

The racers growl at him, offended by his arrogance.

DR. FRANKENSTEIN: Behold…the ultimate evolution in racing!

DR. FRANKENSTEIN removes the tarp, to unveil an ugly abomination of a car. Its hood is missing, and all sorts of tubes and wires snake in and out, connecting seemingly unrelated parts to each other. Random light bulbs pulsing with energy glow on the car. In the driver’s seat is what appears to be a reanimated corpse built literally into the car, thrashing about. The corpse howls the howl of a zombie, and would thrash more, but its hands appear to be built into the steering wheel, and its body restrained by a myriad of tubes and coils. Its mouth covered by one of those jet fighter masks, an oxygen mask connecting into a random part of the car.

WILD BOYZ RACER: That’s a goddamn abomination.
DR. FRANKENSTEIN: Coming from you, I take that as a compliment.

WILD BOYZ RACER growls. The other racers leave, unimpressed. DEACON shakes his head.

CAESAR: Hey, who knows. Maybe he’ll finally live up to that “genius” title he keeps giving himself and make something that gets past the starting line heheheheh.

DEACON pulls out from his leather jacket five high-tech earpieces.

DEACON: Now we don’t got any fancy radars or nothing, so these are going to have to do. Stay plugged in, and stay in communication. Only way a team wins in this kinda race is by watching each other’s backs.

THE BARON walks by, accompanied by his guards. DEACON and THE BARON lock eyes, measuring each other. Between them is an air of distrust, as DEACON recalls what GABRIEL told him.

THE BARON: Everything looking well for our clan, Deacon?
DEACON: Yeah. Only trouble should be Gabriel’s crew. They’re fast.
THE BARON: Then I suppose you’ll have to be faster.

DEACON raises an eyebrow, trying not to give away his distrust of THE BARON.

THE BARON: Just make sure you stick to the route, and go fast. We don’t want any unpleasant surprises.
DEACON: It’s the Clan Wars. Whether we want them or not, unpleasant surprises are always in the cards.

THE BARON gives a venomous smile, pats DEACON on the shoulder and leaves.

THE BARON: You’ll make me proud, Deacon. You haven’t failed me yet.

DEACON puts on his gloves, clearly incensed at the thought of GABRIEL being right. The rest of his crew notices this.

CAESAR: Everything alright man?
DEACON: Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I want all of you focused on the race, you hear me?

DEACON walks off, DANNY follows him.

DANNY: You didn’t tell them?
DEACON: Tell them what?
DANNY: What Gabriel said! The prophec-

DEACON swiftly turns to face DANNY.

DEACON: Gabriel likes to talk. Likes to get into people’s heads. It’s how he wins, and it’s how you ended up being one of us.

DANNY is stunned by DEACON’s distrust and secrecy.

DEACON: If Gabriel is telling the truth, then I’ll do something about it. But I don’t need prophecies running through the heads of my crew when we’re minutes away from the biggest goddamn race of the year.

DEACON pulls out one of the nitrous vials and hands it to DANNY.

DEACON: For all we know, Gabriel just handed us 5 vials of food colored holy water. Plan’s still to be fast and be first. If it looks like that ain’t gonna happen, then and only then, will I even consider the Nitrous Blood. But that’s not a risk I’m willing to have my crew take.

DANNY holds one of the vials of Nitrous Blood in his hand.

DANNY: Then why are you giving this to me?

DEACON pulls off his sunglasses. He looks DANNY dead in the eyes with a trust that DANNY has never felt before.

DEACON: Cause you already heard about this, and I trust you. Don’t take any unless you absolutely need to.

DEACON puts on his sunglasses.

DEACON: Now get in your car, and focus on winning. Or you’re out.
DANNY: Out? Out of what?
DEACON: My crew. The clan. Everything.

DEACON hops into his car, plugging in his earpiece.

DEACON: You haven’t won a single race since I brought you in, Danny. You don’t win this, and you got a lot more than some “prophecy” to worry about.

The cars are all lined up, as they get ready to race. Mean glances are exchanged to between racers. DR. FRANKENSTEIN’s car howls and rattles, yearning to take off at full speed. Next to the howling zombie is DANNY, slightly unnerved by the strangeness of it. Lights in a gothic gargoyle themed traffic light ping red, then yellow. The sun in the background starts to rise. The lights ping green and the cars take off, howling. All except DR. FRANKENSTEINS car. DR. FRANKENSTEIN watches from the bleachers through a pair of ridiculous steampunk binoculars.

The howling zombie thrashes.

DR. FRANKENSTEIN’s car moves two inches forward and then explodes in a fiery mess. DR. FRANKENSTEIN throws his hat down in the ground in frustration.


CAESAR laughs, seeing the mess from his rear view mirror.




DEACON is cool as ice, as he deftly dodges the aggressive sideswipes from WILD BOYZ 1’s car. He sees to his left GABRIEL pass him up. GABRIEL gives a knowing nod to DEACON and continues. DEACON ignores it. As WILD BOYZ 1 continues to antagonize DEACON, DEACON rips his glasses off, to reveal his glowing red fiery eyes.

DEACON: Bite me.

DEACON flips off WILD BOYZ 1 as his car glows in red flames and accelerates, passing up GABRIEL and gaining an insane lead over everyone. Bright neon red flames trail from the car, as DEACON gets faster and faster.

GABRIEL’s car glows a fiery silver as it catches up.

DEACON: Anybody trying to back me up, better get their ass into gear NOW.

DANNY is struggling to keep up. His speedometer tells him he can’t go any faster, but he hasn’t been able to power his car mystically like the others. He knows if he could just tap into that power, he’d easily catch up.

CAESAR: Looks like we’ve got some more leeches on our tail!

Two Wild Boyz cars come from the rear, gaining. Suddenly they explode, flipping through the air. CAESAR looks up in awe as one of the flaming cars flies right over his head.

CAESAR: What the-

A large metal spike punches into the back of CAESAR’s car. We see the metal spike is beeping red. CAESAR’s car explodes.


From the explosion bursts a slick high-end MYSTERY car that’s spewing bright black/gray flames. The windows are shaded. We can’t see who this mystery driver is, but their car came with weapons to take out the competition, guns slickly built into the vehicle.


Black gloved hands tighten on the wheel of this pitch black mystery car, with all black leather interior. Hanging from its mirror is the mystical amulet THE BARON traded for earlier.


ARTEMIS slows her car down to meet the MYSTERY car. She tries to see who’s driving, but can’t see past the tinted windows. She swerves to try and side swipe the car.


A leather gloved hand flicks a switch on a cherry wood panel displaying an array of glowing buttons.


The MYSTERY car ejects large metal defensive spikes right as ARTEMIS swipes in. The spikes detach as ARTEMIS’s car is impaled viciously and flipped out of the race. She’s bleeding and her car’s a wreck, but she’ll survive. She’s more afraid for the other racers. She crawls out of the shattered glass and mangled metal to talk into her earpiece.

ARTEMIS: Guys, whoever this racer is, they’re not here to win. They’re here to take you out. GET OUT OF THERE!

ARTEMIS looks behind her as the sunlight quickly approaches. Without a car, she has nowhere to go. She puts on her sunglasses as she looks right at the sun.

DANNY steels himself as DEACON and GABRIEL press forward. WILD BOYZ 1 is swerving around like a madman, taunting DANNY. MYSTERY car unveils a cannon in the middle, loading the same kind of metal spike that took out CAESAR. It’s aimed right at DANNY’s car.

DANNY takes a deep breath. WILD BOYZ 1’s car is ramming DANNY’s car, threatening to smash him into the wall. Things look dire for DANNY.

DEACON brakes hard. His sudden stop causes WILD BOYZ 1 to crash into DEACON, saving DANNY. But DEACON’s car has stopped.


DEACON is hunched over his wheel, recovering from the crash. He sees DANNY, GABRIEL heading for the horizon ahead of him, and the MYSTERY car is on DANNY’s tail, ready to take him out. DEACON pops the cap off the Nitrous Blood vial and chugs it. A brief pause. DEACON starts choking. He violently convulses and slumps in his seat. DEACON mutters with a withering breath.

DEACON: It’s…up to you…Danny. Finish…the race…

DANNY sees DEACON’s car not moving in his rear view. The MYSTERY car pulls up in his mirror, aiming its cannon right for him.

DANNY: Oh no. No no no no no.

DANNY closes his eyes, and remembers DEACON telling DANNY.

DEACON (voiceover): If you want to win, don’t race to survive…

DANNY takes a deep breath.

DEACON (voiceover): …race to live.

DANNY opens his eyes. They’re fiery and green. He’s figured it out, and now he can tap into the power too. DANNY’s car erupts in green flames as it bursts into the lead. It’s now neck-and-neck with GABRIEL. The MYSTERY car bursts into black flames now, trying to catch up.


The sun is rapidly pulling up to DEACON’s car, where DEACON is slumped in his chair. Suddenly DEACON wakes up violently, surging with energy from the mystical Nitrous Blood he consumed.


Brighter neon red flames pour into every part of DEACON’s car, enveloping it and growing more intense as he drives faster and faster. This is a surge of energy no normal street racing vampire has ever seen before.


DEACON’s car bursts past MYSTERY car, GABRIEL, and DANNY. DANNY is in absolute wonder as he sees DEACON burst by. DEACON sees the sunlight is catching up. DEACON screams in intensity as the road distorts. Appearing out of thin air, phasing into reality, is a stone tunnel entrance.

DEACON: God damn. Gabriel was right.

All four cars pull into the stone tunnel, just before the sunlight would incinerate them. The tunnel immediately disappears. KITSUNE’s car doesn’t go through. We don’t know what happened to her.


DEACON, GABRIEL, DANNY and MYSTERY car pour in from the other end of the mystic portal. They’re driving through what looks like freeway tunnels, but far more ancient. The walls carved with hieroglyphs, the roads smoothed stone.

DANNY: What the hell is this?
DEACON: Looks like the prophecies were true. We’re in the tomb of the Great Racer.
DANNY: What are we supposed to do?!
DEACON: That mystery car still behind us?

DANNY looks in his rear view mirror. MYSTERY car is hot on their tails.

DANNY: Yeah.
DEACON: Then we take this thing to the end. Whatever that driver’s after, it’s at the end of this road, and we need to get there first.

The cars accelerate to the finish line, trading swipes with MYSTERY car. As MYSTERY car pulls out all kinds of crazy weapons, GABRIEL, DANNY, and DEACON narrowly dodge them. Finally, one of DEACON’s weapons takes GABRIEL’s car out of the race. GABRIEL isn’t hurt, but his car is out of the race. He pounds the driver’s wheel in frustration and gets out of his car, only to see MYSTERY car, DEACON and DANNY far away.


DEACON and DANNY’s cars pull up to a screeching halt. They’ve pulled some distance from MYSTERY car, but they don’t have much time. DEACON and DANNY step out of their cars. DANNY is nervous. DEACON is struck by a sense of awe, realizing that they’re standing on Dracula’s grave.

DANNY: That car’s coming in hot.
DEACON: Lucifer’s ghost, we’re actually in The Great Racer’s tomb.
DANNY: Dracula? Cool. What the hell are we supposed to do about that mystery car?

DEACON pulls out two elaborate knives.

DEACON: You any good with these?
DANNY: Nope.

DEACON sighs and pulls out some leather gloves with pure silver padding the knuckles.

DEACON: Here. Don’t touch the silver parts. And punch whatever comes out of that car.

MYSTERY car pulls up, stopping. DEACON and DANNY stand. DEACON pulls out two very cool looking knives. DANNY tightens his gloves, the knuckles gleaming in a mystical halo around the silver. MYSTERY car’s door opens, and THE BARON calmly steps out.

THE BARON: Well. I’m sure nobody’s surprised that it’s me.
DEACON: What’re you doing here, Baron?
THE BARON: Deacon, do you know where we’re are? We are standing on my best friend’s grave! We are in the tomb of Dracula! And do you know what’s in here? All of Dracula’s most powerful relics and weapons.

THE BARON points walks by, marveling sentimentally at the treasures. He pulls a sealed jar of thick bluish green ooze from off the shelf.

THE BARON: You see this stuff? Real yeti blood. You throw a little bit of this in your engine, and your car will fly like a bat out of hell!

THE BARON puts the jar back, smirking as plucks a large, dangerous looking, ruby-tipped spear.

THE BARON: Haha! This is from Dracula’s hunting days. If you think silver hurts, this…this is a thousand hells worse.

THE BARON points at an ornate gold chalice, resting under cobwebs on an intricately carved, stone block.

THE BARON: But that’s what I’m here for! The Chalice of Dracula!

He plucks it off the shelf, blowing the dust off. He pulls from his coat an ornate canteen of blood, and pours it into the chalice. The blood in the chalice immediately glows a bright orange, like very thin lava.

THE BARON: I know you think we were always running away Deacon, but you’re wrong. You see, vampires were always followers. They were meant to be led and when Dracula fell into his slumber, we were lost.

He smells from the chalice, inhaling the intoxicating power.

THE BARON: This chalice grants the powers of Dracula, under a certain blood moon. The kind we have tonight. You yearn for it, don’t you? To be ruled. The clans united under one name. To have order in this chaos? Well I’m here to make that happen.

DEACON tightens his grip. DANNY recklessly tries to punch THE BARON. THE BARON effortlessly grabs DANNY by the throat.

THE BARON: You’re new, child, so you don’t understand this. Deacon, you’ve served me well these past decades. Nothing changes that. I still want you to be my right-hand man. I just want you to be ready. We’re about to change everything, for the better. One sip from this, and you’ll be powerful enough to enforce my rule across all the clans. Are you ready?

THE BARON throws DANNY across the room. DANNY crashes into a wall, cracking the stone. DEACON looks at DANNY, and then looks at THE BARON, considering the offer.

DEACON: You were friends with Dracula, right?

THE BARON smiles.


THE BARON is startled as a knife knocks the chalice out of his hand. The chalice drops to the ground, slowly spilling its contents out onto the floor. We see DEACON with his hand still out. He threw the knife, but he still has one more in his other hand.

DEACON: You’re a crappy friend.

THE BARON’s fangs extend, incensed with rage.

THE BARON: The blood I brought was just a formality. Yours will work just as well.

THE BARON and DEACON fight. THE BARON has a clear strength advantage. He’s been around for centuries, and he fights like an expert. DEACON is street tough and skilled, but THE BARON makes him look completely outmatched. DANNY pulls himself out of the wall. It’s two on one now, but THE BARON is able to hold them off with his overwhelming strength. The fight spans the whole room, knocking walls, cracking the ground as THE BARON slams DEACON into the ground with overwhelming supernatural force. THE BARON stands over DEACON and DANNY, who are lying in a heap on the ground. The ground around them is cracked stone from all the damage.

THE BARON: You mongrels! I offer you the world on a plate, and you dare reject my offer? You’ve just rejected a merciful, painless death.

THE BARON is impaled by the same spear we saw earlier through the chest from behind. His heart pulsating on the tip of the ruby spear.

GABRIEL: Come on, Baron. Have a little heart.

THE BARON writhes in agony, disintegrating and howling. GABRIEL rests exhausted, leaning on the spear. He offers a hand to DEACON and pulls him up, then helps DANNY to his feet.

DEACON: What took you so long?
GABRIEL: I’ve been driving so long, I almost forgot how to fly.
DANNY: We…we can fly?!

GABRIEL and DEACON have a hearty laugh.

DEACON: Guess I forgot to tell you that, kid.

DEACON eyes GABRIEL cautiously.

DEACON: So we’re good?
GABRIEL: Well, you killed my brother last Clan Wars. But you were the only one to trust me about this prophecy. But I did save your sorry ass.

GABRIEL runs a hand over the MYSTERY car.

GABRIEL: Tell you what. Let me keep this car, and we’re good.

DEACON gives GABRIEL daps, indicating they’re friends again.

DEACON: All yours.

GABRIEL hops into the car coolly.

GABRIEL: See you around, Deacon. Try to drive a little more careful, eh? The streets are full of monsters out there.

GABRIEL takes off roaring in the MYSTERY car. DEACON and DANNY look around at the mess in Dracula’s tomb.

DANNY: So. The Baron’s gone.
DANNY: Who rules our clan now?

DEACON eyes their cars and grins.

DEACON: Well, we’ve always settled it one way.

DANNY and DEACON make their ways back into their cars.

DANNY: Don’t worry Deacon. Once I’m leader, I’ll make sure you keep our cars clean and waxed daily.
DEACON: Kid, you have not impressed me yet. I’ll be damned if your first win against me is for clan leader.
DANNY: Aren’t we already damned?

DANNY and DEACON’s car take off, into the moonset. We see that in the chaos, DANNY’s vial of Nitrous Blood shattered on the ground, dripping blood into the cracks of the ground, leading into Dracula’s tomb below.



We see the back of a man in a fedora and trench coat standing in line. His gloved hand gives the CUSTOMS AGENT, a cheerful woman, a passport. The CUSTOMS AGENT smiles warmly.

CUSTOMS AGENT: Welcome to San Francisco. Are you here for business, or pleasure Mr. …Dracula?

A fanged smile shows from beneath the fedora. We don’t see the face.

Dracula: Both.

Cut to title card that reads, “DRACULA WILL RETURN IN FAST FANGS 2: DRACULA DRIFT.” Rage Against the Machine’s “WAKE UP” blasts in a cacophony, serenading the audience into the night.