Once the decision was made to devote one of Epic Universe’s four intellectual property-based lands to the Universal Classic Monsters, those legendary figures that propelled Universal Pictures (the movie division of the company) to long-term stability early on in the 20th century while helping create the cinematic horror genre along the way, the question became, simply, how to pull it off? In various interviews and other press materials, the designers at Universal Destinations & Experiences (the theme-park arm of the company) have kept repeating a simple-but-illuminating phrase: Dark Universe isn’t a museum to 112 years’ worth of films, no matter how influential they may be; the designers, engineers, and storytellers wanted the themed area to be a living, thriving entity of its own, a slice of real estate that breathed atmosphere and radiated narrative all while dripping with nostalgia and Easter-egg references. (Nothing else, after all, would fit in among the other three lands – or “worlds,” in Universal’s new parlance, since the theme park’s central conceit is that guests become intermodal travelers, flitting from one new reality to the next through a series of portals – all of which would similarly be steeped in their own infinite number of details that originated from their own source materials. And, quite frankly, nothing else would befit the storied legacy of the Monsters themselves, who hammered together the very first instance of a shared universe in Hollywood, half a century before Marvel Studios would repeat the trick with its Marvel Cinematic Universe.)

But even this answer is deceptively tricky – the Classic Monsters exist in some three dozen films that stretch from 1913 to 1956, sharing continuity (largely) but not voice, characterization, or, even, approach; even among, say, the core Frankenstein series, there are entries that are more serious or melancholic in their tone (such as the first two, 1931’s Frankenstein and 1935’s The Bride of Frankenstein) and others that are, essentially, flat-out comedies (1948’s Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein). Some sort of organizing principle, then, would need to be chosen and then applied universally (no pun intended), binding all of the many splendid stories, characters, and locations together into one cohesive whole – in this case, the fashioned-from-whole-cloth Darkmoor Village.

Darkmoor, as realized in Epic Universe, is the home to every single monster, creature, and figure that hails from Universal Pictures’s teeming collection, with certain sections of the dark and foreboding settlement largely given over to one swath of beings or another – that is to say, vampires, werewolves, monsters, and the hunters and mad scientists who chase after them all. And since simply creating a geographical catch-all for these varied denizens isn’t enough, Destinations & Experiences further selected those first two Frankensteins, helmed by the visionary director James Whale, to be their tonal touchstone, meaning that the likes of the Phantom of the Opera and the Creature from the Black Lagoon, despite their origins coming from different media in wildly different time periods, would conform to that more gothic style of storytelling. In this way, Frankenstein Manor looms over the surrounding village literally as well as figuratively, firmly establishing a sense of architecture, lighting, and music as Dark Universe’s immersive vocabulary – call it the coin in the Monster realm.

There was a final decision that the theme-park land’s creators had to make, one arguably even more consequential than the others: the setting. Rather than placing Dark Universe within one of the many decades that the Universal Classic Monsters’ shared filmography runs across, they opted to set it within the present day, a single choice that has many ripple effects: 2025 presents an easy entry point for any visitor, no matter her familiarity with the subject matter, to understand and explore the world; no movie from the entire catalogue would have to be excluded (unlike with, say, Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge at Walt Disney World Resort, a themed area that takes place after most of the cinematic and television installments of the Star Wars franchise but before others); and, lastly, it allows all of those legacy characters to be honored while still being able to introduce a whole new cast for guests to interact with from scratch.

(The door was opened, perhaps unsurprisingly, for Destinations & Experiences to update and extend the entire pantheon of monsters from the previous century by the fine folks at Universal Art & Design, the team responsible for conceiving and executing Halloween Horror Nights every fall. Ever since the very earliest days of the event in Orlando, stretching all the way back to 1991, the Classic Monsters played a role, but starting in 2018 [at Universal Studios Hollywood] and 2019 [at Universal Studios Florida], a whole new turn was taken: brand-new narratives were told, also set in the modern day, with completely reimagined looks for all the seminal characters. Though this parallel-universe interpretation has nothing to do with Epic Universe and its new monstrous inhabitants, the success of this string of haunted houses, both creatively and commercially, undoubtedly helped pave the way for the company to attempt another retooling of the hallowed property.)

As such, Dr. Victoria Frankenstein, the great-great granddaughter of Henry Frankenstein, is the central player in this story; she has created her own creature, who looks mostly similar to Boris Karloff’s iconic version from the ‘30s but is larger and, supposedly, more advanced, and she even has her own assistant named Ygor to aid her in her efforts. And these efforts are very grandiose, indeed: her stated goal is nothing less than to assemble all of the Classic Monsters and erect control over them so that they no longer torment the good citizens of Darkmoor, who her family has adversely affected over the past several decades – or, in other words, to rehabilitate both the creatures and her family name, to allow it to once again be regarded with respect and awe. There is more than a fair bit of ego involved here, and in keeping with the storied traditions of Frankenstein, specifically, and its larger shared cinematic universe, generally, that is the sin that causes whole enterprises to come crashing down.

The realm of the monsters

Darkmoor Village can best be viewed not as a collection of attractions, restaurants, and shops, but, rather, as a collective of different, overlapping mythologies that hail from the source material – and the most dominant strain, by far, is that of the monsters, the experiments that created them, and the scientists, past and present, who attempt to control the whole chaotic affair.

All of this is centered, of course, on the majestic Frankenstein Manor, which Victoria has inherited; beside portraits and other mementos devoted to her famous forebearer, the new Dr. Frankenstein has set up her own suite of experiments that are designed to first create her very own monster, like her great-great grandfather infamously did before her, and then to study the rest of the familiar set of monstrous faces from his time period. But it is in the ancient, sprawling set of catacombs underneath the manse – which apparently run all the way to the graveyard on the outskirts of town, where passersby can occasionally hear the voices of her assistants emanating from the family crypt – that her real work is being done: she houses the various creatures and beings there as she routinely and resolutely works her way through their ranks, bending them to her will. After some apparently good results – the Monster, his Bride, and the Invisible Man are all considered sufficiently rehabilitated to allow them to openly walk the streets of Darkmoor – Victoria has decided to skip most of her other charges (including the Phantom of the Opera, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, the Wolf Man, and the Mummy) and head straight to the biggest challenge of them all: Count Dracula himself. His power is so vast, it will require a great deal of Victoria’s own in order to vanquish it and likewise dominate him, which explains the seemingly never-ending series of cables and wires that currently snake all throughout town. It has become a regular occurrence to see all of Darkmoor’s 6,500 light fixtures dim and flicker as the electricity pulsates, adding yet another layer of apprehension to an area that has already known so much over the years.

The development actually accomplishes something else for the good doctor: it helps lead the public, locals and tourists alike, to the site of her grand experiment. Yes, that’s right – Frankenstein requires an audience for her upcoming feat, for what glory is there to be had if there is no one to witness it and spread the word, helping make her the stuff of legend? Her eloquent home’s grounds have been opened to all and sundry, and, what’s more, she’s even given special orders to have a formerly abandoned part of the mansion, a storeroom that has been stuffed with stockpiles of various objects, both mundane and eccentric, that her family has amassed over its long and wealthy reign, be opened; her guests will be welcome to peruse these baubles for purchase, providing a keepsake of the special occasion.

Not to be outdone, two other games that have dubious connections to the family Frankenstein are present in Darkmoor Village for Victoria’s dramatic presentation. Next-door to the towering manor is a humble cottage, formerly owned by the De Laceys, whose ancestor, an old hermit, once befriended Henry Frankenstein’s Monster in a time of need, offering him food and drink – now it does the same to anyone who is willing to pay for the courtesy. And in the town square, the former laboratories of Dr. Septimus Pretorius, who helped Henry create his Monster’s Bride, reside, though they have similarly been transformed into a mercantile operation by his descendants: in one section, Septimus’s famed collection of curios can be bought, while in another, a special parlor has been set up for one final experiment – to transform (temporarily, of course) any patron into one of 16 different Monsters from the village’s dark history. Septimus’s followers not only fancy this an ode to his influential work, but also something of a continuation of it.

The realm of the werewolves

Just beyond the village’s boundaries, meanwhile, in the deep, dark forest that most Darkmoor residents know to steer clear of, the werewolves prowl, claiming their domain. Perched on the border between the two realms, seemingly as if to keep watch, is the Guild of Mystics, a group that continues a long tradition of beauty, violence, and knowledge of the beasts; their current camp consists of a series of wagons that are stationed not far from what used to be the town’s armory but is now just a ramshackle shed. The Mystics’ leader is a young, mysterious woman by the name of Maleva, the latest in an unbroken line of wolf-seers that stretches all the way back to 1941 (and beyond) – she possesses the preternatural ability to see whether one bears the mark of the wolf, or soon will, condemning him to a life of torment as he forever bewares the moon.

All those who are bold – and crazy – enough to venture to the Mystics’ camp will have the opportunity to shop their wares of magical charms and jewelry, and also, much more importantly, to have their fates be told to them. But they will additionally have to contend with the possibility of becoming a werewolf themselves; if infected, the transformation process is said to be dizzying, as if one is spun endlessly around while being pitched up and down a series of hills – not unlike a wild ride upon one of the Guild’s many wagons. And, surely, those packs of wolves who already inhabit the woods would not wish to let their newest members flee back to civilization, presenting a formidable encounter.

In fact, such an incursion into Darkmoor proper – whether by the werewolves or by another of the fearsome monsters that call the surrounding area home – happens with alarming regularity, approximately every 20 minutes or so throughout the day. The villagers, as such, have a well-honed defensive maneuver at their disposal, originating from the “Frankenstein Incident” of 1931 and deployed with deadly efficiency, in which they ring the giant bell in the town square, altering all citizens to grab their pitchforks and torches and herd whatever the threat is towards the forest, where the notorious windmill that Henry’s Monster attempted to hide within still stands; there, they trap it and set the spinning blades on fire, either dispatching the menace or sending it shrieking into the cursed woods.

It is because of this practice that Darkmoor has dubbed the structure the Burning Blade Tavern, and the old fiery mill does, indeed, function as a real, working pub – it is actually where the hounds, monster hunters that hail from a number of nearby regions, like to reside, drinking their fill and regaling whoever will listen with all their tales of derring-do. Their trophies – the heads of various creatures they have captured over the years – line the walls, and the bartender here even slings a particular, smoking concoction that is supposed to make mere mortals smell bad (and taste even worse) to werewolves, thereby acting as a type of protection ward against them.

The realm of the vampires

Although the colony of vampires that calls Darkmoor home has successfully been contained to the crypts underground (presumably a section of the catacombs not claimed by Dr. Victoria Frankenstein), these beings of the night are still feared by the residents – mention Dracula’s name, in particular, whether to a normal citizen or one of the rehabilitated monsters, and you’ll get quite a visceral reaction. And there’s good reason for this: despite their relative confinement, the vampires still enjoy a steady supply of blood thanks to their familiars (servants who do their bidding in the hopes of one day joining their immortal ranks), who pour the sustenance down below via a conveyance device that secretly doubles as the well at the center of town.

And the procurement of this blood supply happens right there in the town square, in the guise of an ostentatiously opulent restaurant. Cheekily called Das Stakehaus, it is an old inn that has been overhauled into a modern-day dining hall, and the eternal proprietors all but dare any of their diners – and would-be victims – to call their bluff on the true origins and purposes of the premises in two main ways: they winkingly serve up their culinary offerings on (what else?) stakes, and they have lavishly decorated their venue with loving homages to vampiric culture. Guests can expect to see a series of grandiose paintings that depict main historical events, both the vampires’ and Darkmoor Village’s, with an obvious bias; one of their particularly beloved familiar waiter’s remains have been painstakingly preserved; and in one room, the crypts that line the walls are left brazenly undisguised – along with the series of holes that the reanimated bodies had burst out of.

And then there’s the vampire corpses, which become petrified upon death. Perhaps because this is a common occurrence within their politics-heavy culture (it’s rather routine for one member of the colony to act outside his station or to disobey their rules, resulting in all the others driving their stakes into him), or perhaps because it’s sending a message to a number of different audiences simultaneously (part distraction, part warning to the immortal community, part bold declaration of their continued presence, even in the face of Victoria Frankenstein), these frozen bodies just might be the biggest piece of decor in the Stakehaus, even being displayed outside on the patio, in broad daylight.

Still, despite this supreme confidence, their ultimate fate in the area – along with that of Darkmoor itself, whose balance of power between all the various supernatural factions has remained tenuous, at best – remains uncertain, especially if Dr. Frankenstein’s efforts at subjugating their leader, Count Dracula, are successful.
Either way, however, what is known is this: Darkmoor Village will forever be a curse for all who enter its boundaries, turning their universe dark.

For even more information on Universal’s horror attractions presented in an in-world style, be sure to check out Horrors Untold, your guide to Halloween Horror Nights Orlando’s history, lore, and evolution.

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