Iping. Many years ago...

"There he is! That's him!"

The hysterical screams of the innkeeper grew even higher in decimals as the door was thrown violently from its hinges and slammed against an unforgiving tiled floor. The roars and bellows of the angry townsfolk rang through the room, the entirety of their fury directed upon a single pair of glasses hovering near a locked window. At first, it appeared nothing was really there, that the glasses somehow managed to levitate on their own, but upon closer examination, a faint, trembling shadow of a human-being could be distinguished, along with a hovering trenchcoat and a suitcase.

"My word, he's real!" one man exclaimed. "Are the rest of you lot seeing what I am? A man! An. Invisible. Man!"

"Nevermind what it is!" another snapped, raising his pitchfork threateningly. "Let's kill it before it does to us what it did to the others!"

"No...wait...please!" the unseen figure pleaded. "You're making a mistake! I've never hurt anyone or...or stolen anything! You're just-"

"Jack Griffin," spoke a voice from nearly the back of the room. "I am sentencing you to death for the murders of Lionel Wicksteed and Colonel Adye. You are to be escorted back to London where you will stand trial before-"

"No!" the man snarled. The glasses moved slightly and he hissed in pain as he rammed into a small table. A lamp hit the floor and shattered. "You don't understand! I'm innocent!"

"He killed them! He killed them!"

"Kill the monster!"

"Destroy him!"

"No!" The shadow moved and the latch on the window suddenly jerked from its place. "Kemp! Kemp!" the voice went on, as though recognizing someone amongst the crowd. "It's me! It's Griffin! You have to tell them, Kemp! Tell them I didn't kill anyone, please!"

Said man only turned away, lowered his hat, and shouldered his way from the room, leaving the mob alone to deal with the man.

"Kemp!" Griffin screamed after him, his pleas dying at the slamming of the door.

The mob pressed in closer. Most were wielding pitchforks or other tools and weapons, whatever could have been found in a spare minute's notice. In their eyes was the dangerous glint of murder, a lot like a predator going in for it's prey, which was a lot like how Griffin felt.

There was now only one way out of this mess, and it wasn't a guaranteed success. With a snarl and a movement that would have been virtually unseen had it not been for the coat, he turned and threw himself through the window.

Several townsfolk screamed and ran to the window, but in the dark of winter, it was virtually impossible to see anything. Certainly no one noticed the smashed crates and scattered fish below them on the street, or the trenchcoat so perfectly abandoned against a carriage not far away.

There was one, however, who would remain, after the rest of the townsfolk had gone nervously home to their beds and families. Kemp would return to the scene hours later to find Griffin's work still lying forgotten on the table. He would read the notes that his old friend had taken and perfect Jack's faulty formula. He would then find the slimmest sheet of paper hidden underneath the sofa and hold it up to lamplight to read the inscribed lettering.

Hotel Transylvania.

A wicked smile spread over the scientist's face. He now knew where Griffin was heading.

A safe-haven for monsters.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

There was a gentle knock at the door. "Dr. Kemp?" came a feminine voice from just outside. "May I enter?"

Kemp quickly shoved the paper into his coat and spun on his heel to get the door. "Ah! Yes! Crystal! Please! Please! Come in! I've been expecting you!" He held the door open to permit the young woman to enter and gaze around the room in awe. "Yes, it's all very astounding, isn't it?"

"And he...he lived here?"

"Yes," was Kemp's abrupt answer as he hurried about, collecting up just a few last minute items. "Well, here we go," he added, dumping everything onto the coffee table. "Are you ready, my dear?"

She took a deep breath and nodded.

Kemp took a few of the viles and poured them together into a vat. A cloud of steam rose toward the heavens and then vanished forever.

"Then let us begin."