victor enters to find the room aglow with dozens of candles.
elizabeth. tense and waiting. a shadow looms across the balcony.  spilling through the french doors.  onto the floor.  a bony hand reaches for the latch.
elizabeth watches, transfixed, as the huge shadow moves inexorably toward her. her eyes dart toward the door. she makes a break for it. he catches her halfway across the room, spinning her around by the arm. her face is lit by the light of the fireplace.
and they burst in just in time to see elizabeth cascade back onto the bed, her chest a massive red stain. the creature whips toward them, fist glistening with blood.
victor rushes to the bad and lets loose the most primal scream of all. he sweeps his limp, murdered bride into his arms, cradling her to his breast, screams trailing off into wracking moans and sobs of despair: