Waking up just before dawn amid the screeching of iron rails, Paris is clearing away the debris of a train wreck drenched in blood up to its neck. Meanwhile, world-renowned pianist Paul Orlac emerges from the wreckage, his hands free. Robert Wiene’s camera lets the shadows of German Expressionism seep drop by drop onto the white sheets in the hospital rooms. When he learns whose fingers have been sewn onto his wrists, every object in the room turns into a silent executioner. As layers of mystery and suspense knot themselves around the pianist’s sweaty fingers on the keys, the mind begins to reject this strange organ transplant. Fear seeps in from the edge of the keyboard.