The Wolf Man Page #4

Yes. I heard people

in the corridor.

Is there

anything wrong?

Richardson was killed last night.

The gravedigger.

The tracks lead

up to this house.

Footprints.

No, animal tracks.

A wolf.

A Wolf?

Where do you

suppose a wolf came from?

He might have escaped

from the circus or a zoo.

What is this story about a

man turning into a wolf?

You mean the werewolf?

Yes, sir.

Well, it's an old legend.

You'll find something like it in the

folklore of nearly every nation.

The scientific name

for it is lycanthropia.

It's a variety

of schizophrenia.

That's all Greek to me.

Well, it is Greek.

It's a technical expression

for something very simple.

The good and evil

in every man's soul.

In this case, evil takes

the shape of an animal.

I can figure out

most anything

if you give me electric

current and tubes and wires,

something I can

do with my hands.

But these things,

you can't even touch...

What's the matter

with you, Larry?

Oh...

Oh, nothing, sir.

But do you believe

in these yarns?

Larry, to some people,

life is very simple.

They decide that this is good, that

is bad, this is wrong, that's right.

There's no right and wrong,

no good and bad.

No shadings and grays,

all blacks and whites.

That'd be

Paul Montford.

Exactly.

Now, others of us find

that good, bad, right,

wrong are many-sided,

complex things.

We try to see every side.

But the more we see,

the less sure we are.

Now, you ask me if I believe

a man can become a wolf.

Well, if you mean, can he take on the

physical characteristics of an animal?

No. It's fantastic.

However, I do believe

that most anything can happen

to a man in his own mind.

Time for church.

You know, Larry,

belief in the hereafter

is a very healthy

counterbalance

to all the conflicting doubts man is

plagued with these days. Come on.

Last night, it caught

up with Richardson.

Many's the grave

he dug for others.

Now they're

digging one for him.

I don't dare open my door

anymore, for fear of that beast.

That beast. Has

anybody ever seen it?

I don't think

it even exists.

Very strange there were no murders

here before Larry Talbot arrived.

I think... Hold your

tongue, Mrs. Williams.

Do you know

that's slander?

I know what I know.

You should have seen the way he

looked at me in Conliffe's shop.

Like a wild animal

with murder in his eyes.

Here he comes.

Morning.

Pleasure to see you,

Sir John.

How are you, Larry?

Fine, thank you.

Mr. Conliffe.

Come, my dear.

I think I'll send this cast of the animal's

tracks to the expert at Scotland Yard.

Why? They'll

laugh at you.

There's no question

about it. It's a wolf.

Probably hiding in the woods somewhere.

What about traps?

We've got to do

something before

the town becomes

completely hysterical.

Yes, this muttering

of werewolves.

Come along,

Larry.

We're discussing this wolf that seems

to be roaming the countryside.

Yes, you saw him. What's he like?

Is he a big fellow?

It isn't a wolf.

What do

you mean?

It's a werewolf.

Werewolf?

Maybe he's right.

Let's have a hunt

and drive it out.

That'd be a valuable addition to

anybody's collection of animals.

Just imagine having a stuffed werewolf

staring at you from the wall.

I wouldn't

joke about it, Paul.

Doctor, do you believe

in werewolves?

Why, I believe that a man

lost in the mazes of his mind

may imagine

that he's anything.

Science has

found many examples

of the mind's

power over the body.

The case of the stigmata appearing

on the skin of zealots.

Self-hypnotism.

But if a man isn't even

thinking about the thing,

isn't interested in it,

then how could he hypnotize

himself with it?

It might be a case of mental

suggestion plus mass hypnotism.

You mean by that,

that he could be

influenced by

the people about him?

Yes. Come now, Doctor.

You're letting your science run

away with your common sense.

Have you ever met

a werewolf, Doctor?

Not that I know of.

Doctor, can these

sick people be cured?

Not they. An asylum's the

only safe place for them.

Any disease of

the mind can be cured

with the cooperation

of the patient.

Well, while you gentlemen are

figuring it out scientifically,

I think I'll go

and set a few traps.

Yes, I'll help you.

We may not find

anything more

than a diseased mind,

but even that

may be interesting.

Doctor, I've got

to talk to you.

Later. Now, I want you to

go and get some rest.

Go on, Larry.

You're the one

I want to talk to.

I didn't like what you said

to him about mass hypnotism.

Sir John, your son

is a sick man.

He's received

a shock that has caused

definite

psychic maladjustment.

You must send him

out of this village.

You're talking

like a witch doctor.

If my son is ill, the

best place for him is

in his own home,

proving his innocence.

Does the prestige

of your family name

mean more to you

than your son's health?

Oh, nonsense.

The one way for him

to get cured is to stay

here and fight

his way out of this.

And I tell you that

shock therapy is too

strong for him in

his present state.

Listen to me,

Dr. Lloyd.

Five generations of Talbots haven't

been affected by this village.

That boy stays here!

Oh, very well.

We'll see how

he is in the morning.

All right, sir.

Last one, huh?

That ought to

hold him.

They've lost

the trail, sir.

Well, he can't have

disappeared into thin air.

Take Phillips and

walk around the marsh,

see if you can pick up

the trail down there.

All right, sir.

Come on, Frank.

Let's go.

Right away.

The way you walk is thorny,

through no fault of your own.

But as the rain enters the soil,

the river enters the sea,

so tears run to

a predestined end.

Find peace for a moment,

my son.

What are you

doing here?

I came to

help you.

Where am I?

What happened?

You are caught

in a trap.

Here, here.

Let me do that.

Hurry. The dogs.

They are hunting you.

Hello, there!

Stop! Come here! You!

It's Master Larry!

What are you

doing here, sir?

Why, the same thing

that you are, of course.

Hunting.

I hear you

talking to someone?

It was Master Larry.

All right.

Go along.

Who was that?

Larry Talbot.

Larry!

Gwen,

I'm going away.

Away? But why?

I've got to go.

I can't stay here any longer.

Let me go with you. I'll fetch a few

things and be back in a minute.

No, no.

I'm going alone.

But I can help you!

You wouldn't want to run away

with a murderer, would you?

Larry, you're not.

You know you're not.

I killed Bela.

I killed Richardson.

If I stay around here much longer, you

can't tell who's going to be next!

Wait...

It might even...

Please!

I've still got the charm

you gave me, remember?

Yeah, yeah, I know,

but I'm afraid.

Larry! What is it?

Your hand.

I can't see anything.

Mr. Talbot.

Father!

I'm going with Larry.

No, it's no use!

Going out, Larry?

Father, I've got to

get away from here.

Bela the Gypsy

was a werewolf.

I killed him with

that silver cane.

I was bitten. Look.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes