| Hunters 2003-01-14 07:24:39 ET |
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ACT 1 SCENE 1
Black screen, with over-voice.
Officer1: Name?
Mark: Mark Simmons
Officer1: Sex?
Mark: Male
Officer1: Age?
Mark: 19
Officer1: Religion?
Mark: Confused
Officer1: SSN?
Mark: 601-12-5554
Officer1: Occupation?
Mark: Freelance
Silence.
Mark: Do you need anything else?
Officer1: No, step up to the yellow line sir and begin now.
A light shines onto a white painted brick wall. A young man, long black hair, tanned skin, dark eyes, various piercings on his face and ears, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and black pants, steps into the light. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days and the side of his face is smudged with reddish dirt. His hands are cuffed behind his back. He sighs.
Mark: We were bored and…
Officer2: (OC, interrupting) Who is we?
Mark: Me, Allie, Finn, Pete, and Nate.
He waits for the next question, which doesn’t come.
Mark: (starting over): Well, we were bored and trying to figure out something to do.
Allie suggested that we go…(pauses as if embarrassed) ghost hunting.
Officer1: (Skeptical): Ghost hunting? What are you? Scooby Doo?
Officer2: Quiet, Hank. Let him continue.
Mark stands there silent a moment before beginning again. His shoulders seem to slump and he continues.
Mark: She had heard some ghost stories that happened around here. All sorts of freaky sh…umm, stuff. We decided what the hell? We would go; there was nothing better to do that night.
Hank: So, where did you go that night?
Mark: The closest place was Bisbee. You know, the old mining town.
View changes from Mark to a car full of five teenagers driving down a winding road in the dark.
Mark: (OV) we figured that a town with an old history like that should have some ghosts and stuff right?
A girl in the front seat, black hair tied back in a ponytail, pale skinned, an abundance of necklaces and bracelets, blue jeans and a gray army t-shirt. She looks about 17-19 age-wise. She’s busying herself by checking some things in the backpack on her lap.
Allie: Hey, guys? Did you all remember flashlights and stuff?
Camera pans to the backseat, where three guys sit uncomfortably close to each other. To the left is a 16-17 year old male (FINN), blonde hair just below his ears, sunglasses despite the darkness. Looks like he’s wearing a trenchcoat over some jeans and a black shirt. He’s keeping himself busy lighting a cigarette. In the middle there is a shy looking guy (PETE), maybe 18. Seems like he’s really not comfortable being squished between the two other males. His dark eyes keep darting around as if he’s really nervous. The backward baseball cap on his head covers his hair. He’s got on a gray sweatshirt and baggy black pants. The guy to the right (NATE) is staring out the window, not paying much attention to anything really. He’s obviously the oldest, looking about 20 years old. His arms, covered in some points by tattoos of dragons, swords, and gun totting chicks, are crossed over his chest over a black t-shirt. The way he’s dressed, and his longish black hair and pale face make it look as though he is pushing the Eric Draven (The Crow) image a little too far.
Finn: Yeah, so where are we going in Bisbee?
Allie: (Looking at a piece of paper in her hand) There’s the Copper Queen, the mines,
the City Park…just walking around the place is ghost hunting.
Nate: (As if walking up from his trance) Don’t tell me you all actually believe in this
shit?
Finn: It’s not an issue of if we believe in it. The issue is that we’re bored, might as well
try something new, right?
Pause.
Finn: So, you don’t believe in ghosts?
Nate: No. I don’t believe in anything I haven’t seen or experienced before.
Mark: That means that you don’t believe in sex right?
Mark moves quickly in his seat to avoid being hit my Nate, suprisingly he is able to keep control of the car while doing so. Allie in turn moves her seat back to squish into him before adjusting it back to the original setting.
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| Elsie 2003-01-14 07:17:41 ET |
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The early morning sunlight shone through the latticework outside the second story window and reflected off the thousands of crystals mixed into the burgundy paint on the wall of her bedroom. The light burned through her eyelids and made her groan. Why did the light always have to be so bright in the morning? She thought as she rolled over on the soft mattress of her bed although it did not seem to help at all.
Frustrated Annelise, Elsie for short, finally rolled out of the bed and onto the carpeted floor. She remained there for a moment studying the funny shapes of light on the ceiling made by the latticework outside the window. She started to rise from the floor but was then attacked by a rather large and fluffy grey cat that had decided it was time to make her his couch.
“Ugh! Damn cat.” She sighed.
“Having trouble?” a smart-ass voice chuckled from the doorway. There stood her roommate. Gavrie: Six feet tall, thin but still muscular, azure eyes, tanned skin even though he was never seen outside, and raven black hair down to his shoulders. If he wasn’t such an asshole, she thought, I’d be after him too. Like every other woman who comes near him.
Pulling the cat away from her chest was a chore seeing as he had dug his claws not only into her black tank top, but her skin as well. She struggled up to her feet, still shaking off sleep, and walked over to the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her closet door. After a bit of inspection, she saw that the cat had not done too much damage to the pale skin on her neck and chest. Glancing behind her she realized that Gavrie was still in the doorway holding the cat in his arms and watching her.
“Do you need something?” She said while she attempted to fix her unruly long brown hair.
“Just wondering if you were awake yet…” he trailed off as if it was not worthy of him finishing. The cat, who’s name was still a mystery to Elsie, climbed onto his shoulder and then hopped off his back, hitting the floor with a loud thump. He stood there silently picking the grey cat hairs off of his half-opened black shirt. Elsie found herself staring at him again, studying him. She did not notice when he had looked back up to her face again. Blushing she looked back at her own reflection. No chance, she thought miserably, even if I did want him. Her face seemed somewhat sad when she looked back up at it. Grey eyes, almost silver, stared back at her before they flicked back up to see if he was still hanging around. He was, in fact he had come into the room completely and laid down on her bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Just checking it out. It’s like uncharted territory.” He said stretching some and playing with the fringe on one of her handmade quilts.
“What do you mean?” She turned to him with a slight scowl.
“Well, it’s like visiting a place where no man has been before. You never bring men home…is there something you aren’t telling me?” His brow raised in question.
“No. Except that you need to leave, you have your own room, I know it may be lonely without one of your airhead girlfriends to keep you company but I don’t need you bothering me right now.” Her hands rested on her hips as if to emphasize her point.
“Chill. I was just joking with you ok? What’s wrong? You seem really uptight.”
“I’m fine! Just go, please.” She turned away from him and started to pull some clothing from the closet. She did not hear him leave but she knew he had. Glancing back confirmed that and she looked back to the mirror. Everything about her seemed so average. Her height was an average five feet and six inches. Although she was slightly overweight, she carried it well. Her hair was a plain brownish color that was currently tied back in a braid that went halfway down her back.
Suddenly the room seemed way too quiet and she reached over to her left where her CD player sat on an old trunk and switched it on. Sounds of Disturbed and Marilyn Manson flowed out from the speakers and eased her mind. Elsie did not know why she had been so testy with Gavrie; normally she just let everything go and occasionally joked back with him. Today it was different somehow. Maybe it was just the planetary alignment.
“Who knows?” she sighed as she finished getting dressed into her trademark blue jeans and black long sleeved shirt and put on her long leather coat. Looking to the bottom of her closet she wondered where her shoes were. They were the only pair she owned due to the lack of funds that she had being a student at the University of Arizona. Her only money came from her full time job as a bartender at a bar just down the street. For a moment she replayed the sequence of events as she came home last night: tiredly stumbled into the building, up the stairs, past the door where the couple perpetually seemed to be having a fight, up to the door to realize that Gavrie had left it unlocked for her again (good thing too because she had forgotten her key), into the small living room, turn off the TV, put a blanket over Gavrie because he fell asleep on the couch again, into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, kick off shoes, grab a……..
“Ah ha!” She whispered as she walked into the small kitchen area. Sure enough her shoes were still there next to the cabinet door where they kept canned food. On top of her shoes the cat was sleeping soundly. Elsie reached down and rolled the cat off of her shoes and slipped them on. She noticed that the cat had not stirred at all and she envied its freedom to lay about, sleep and eat all day.
Shaking her head she retrieved her backpack from the spot in the corner of the living room where it always was and started to head out the door. Before she got there was a tug on her sleeve. Turning she saw Gavrie standing there looking straight into her eyes. Suddenly feeling nervous she looked away.
“Yes? What do you need?”
“How much do you love me?” he said taking a step closer to her.
“Enough not to spit in your food. Why?” suddenly toughening up and looking back up at him.
“I need a ride to class…and home from class…and to a party tonight.”
“That’s all, huh? I thought your girlfriends usually give you a ride around town. What happened?”
“We broke up.”
“When?”
“Last night.” He said and left it at that. Elsie figured something had gone badly and did not want to open up that wound by pushing him into telling her everything. For the first time he seemed to show some sign of sadness. Weird, she thought, hope he’ll be all right. She nodded to him and started heading out the door; he tugged on her sleeve again and put her keys into her hand when she stopped to look. Shaking her head she led him down to her car.
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| The Party House (Script) 2003-01-14 07:05:07 ET |
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Act 1 Scene 1
Here we see a large room. Booths on either side of the room with dark red painted walls. The lighting is very dim. Empty bottles are left sitting on tables amongst papers and drug paraphernalia. It looks like this was one hell of a party. This room looks as if it may be a dance club of some sorts as the camera pans to a bar on the left. We can see a form lying across the bar, not moving. We can’t tell for sure if it is male, female…or even living because of the lighting. Day light pours into the room as a door opens off screen. A young man, maybe 18 or 19, walks in stepping over the trash towards the bar. Long blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans and combat boots. He walks over the form on the bar and shakes it.
Danny: Boss… hey Boss. Come on wake up, it’s morning.
He shakes the form once more and then dodges as a fist that shoots out from the form that groans.
Ali: (VO) Yup, that’s me. Not exactly at my best.
Danny: Boss, do you need anything?
The figure rolls over. We see a pretty woman’s face. Her black make-up is smeared and she has the distinct look of hangover. She stares hard at him. He nervously takes a step back.
Ali: No.
Plainly put. Danny turns on his heels and walks back out of the room.
Ali: (VO) Damn, was I a bitch or what? Welcome to my world, or at least my little piece of it. This is the Party House, offhours. Come here and I could get you everything you could ever dream of. At a price of course. Nothing comes without a price, my father taught me that. Drugs, alcohol, a good lay. I can get it for you.
Ali slides off the bar and onto the ground. The camera follows her feet as she moves off the bar, through the room, around the trash on the ground. Ali makes some grumbles we can’t seem to understand. She goes through the door and down a hall with burgundy colored carpeting, then into a room with tile on the ground. The shoes stop. We see a bathroom mirror closed to cover a medicine cabinet with assorted sundry items and to revel the face of Ali, smeared and hungover, finally in the light. She looks at her reflection.
Ali: Morning beautiful. That was one hell of a party last night…too bad you don’t remember a thing about it.
She laughs to herself, turning on the sink faucet. Smiling at her reflection one last time, she looks down at her hands, her face falls and she gasps. The camera angles moves down. We see that her hands are covered in dried blood being washed down the drain. In fact the whole front of her body: arms, clothes, and cleavage are also covered.
Ali: (VO) Wait, that’s not right…
She frantically looks for a wound on her body. She finds none. She looks back up at the mirror.
Ali: (VO) Phew…wait, if this isn’t mine, who’s….
Ali: (whispered) What the hell happened last night?
She braces herself with hands against the sink. Just then a rapid knock sounds on the door, in which causes Ali to jump. Gathering her composure.
Ali: (angrily) What?
Danny: Umm…Boss, we really need you right now. We have a problem. A big one.
She moves over to the door and opens it a crack, looking out. Danny is standing there, looking more solemn than normal.
Danny: (quietly) Boss, I really think you need to check this out.
Ali sighs and follows him down the hall....To be Continued
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| poem... 2002-12-20 14:36:11 ET |
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The fairy tale is over,
Lay the lillies on my grave,
the prince has left the kingdom,
I've tried so hard to be brave.
A life and love of gilded glory,
Stolen by a storm,
And swept me off my feet,
To throw me down below.
I strugled to find the living breath,
I screamed for one to hear,
But the fairy tale is over,
And it's too much to bear.
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| short... 2002-11-04 07:18:13 ET |
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A murder in disguise
You can see it in her eyes
Feel them burning into you
From across the room
You’d do anything to know her
You’d fight anything to get her
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