Post by ceruleanwalker on Aug 21, 2014 20:59:45 GMT
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Age: 16+
Word Count: 3,130
Warnings: magical elements, murder, violence. dark comedy.
Summary: The horseman War has given up his function and is attempting a human existence while dealing with monsters and magic in London. While ancient pacts are broken and plots are hatched by a rider in white.
Hi everyone, thanks for taking the time to read this. I've been working on this pilot for a few years now, I know what it wants to be and where it will go (I've got a fun idea with vampires for the second episode) but I'm having trouble getting it there. Any and all criticisms will be welcome, or if you just feel like saying what a brilliant, talented and strikingly handsome young man I am, then that is also welcome. enjoy.
Horsemen, episode 1: Revelations.
1 EXT. HIROSHIMA. SUNSET. 9th AUGUST. 1945.
THICK ASH SWIRLS THROUGH THE AIR LIKE FOG. THROUGH THE MURK LOOMS THE SILHOUETTES OF RUINED BUILDINGS AND FALLEN BODIES. SURVIVORS CRAWL, CRY AND SCREAM IN THE DEAD MISTS. OVER THE CARNAGE WE HEAR WAR/ARTHUR BREATHING DEEPLY, THE VOICE OF HIS PSYCHIATRIST SPEAKS TO HIM CALMLY.
PSYCHIATRIST: Breathe in and out. In and out. That’s it. Now Arthur, tell me where you are.
ARTHUR: I am... in the aftermath.
THE SILHOUETTE OF WAR WALKS DOWN THE STREET; AS WAR WALKS, THE ASH AND FOG LESSENS SLIGHTLY SO THAT WE CAN SEE HIM MORE CLEARLY. HE WEARS IRON GREY KNIGHTS ARMOUR, A RED TUNIC, SCARF AND THE TATTERED REMAINS OF A BROWN LEATHER CLOAK. IN HIS RIGHT HAND HE CARRIES AN IRON BROAD SWORD, BLOOD RED FLAMES FLICKER ALONG THE BLADE. THE HOOD OF HIS CLOAK OBSCURES HIS FACE.
PSYCHIATRIST: Are you alone?
ARTHUR: No.
FOLLOWING AT A SHORT DISTANCE ARE THE ARMOURED SILHOUETTE’S OF PESTILENCE, FAMINE AND DEATH. ASIDE FROM THEIR SHAPES WE SEE THE FAINT GLOW OF THEIR WEAPONS: A GOLDEN GLOWING CROWN, A PALE BLUE GLOWING SCYTHE AND A SET OF BRONZE GLOWING SCALES. THEY WALK APART FROM EACH OTHER ALL IN THEIR OWN WORLD OF THOUGHT.
PSYCHIATRIST: Who is with you?
ARTHUR: My friends.
PSYCHIATRIST: And what do you see?
HE COMES TO THE END OF THE STREET, THE ASH CLEARS TO REVEAL THE REMAINS OF HIROSHIMA, THE BUILDINGS RUINED, AND THE STREETS ARE POOLS OF MOLTEN STONE. THE SKY IS BLOOD RED, DOMINATED BY A BLACK MUSHROOM CLOUD.
ARTHUR: What I am, what I've always been and all that it implies.
WAR HOLDS OUT HIS GLOVED HAND, COLLECTING THE ASH FROM THE AIR.
PSYCHIATRIST: And is that what you want to be?
HIS HAND SQUEEZES THE ASH TIGHTLY.
ARTHUR: ‘… No.’
FADE TO TITLE SCREEN.
TITLE SCREEN:
SILENCE AS THE TITLE APPEARS IN CRIMSON LETTERS.
HORSEMEN.
SCENE END.
2 INT. HOSPITAL. BERLIN. LATE AFTERNOON. 14TH NOVEMBER. 2010.
PESTILENCE/DR. JONATHAN AEGROR SITS IN HIS OFFICE. ‘BUBBLE’S’ BY BIFFY CLYRO PLAYS ON HIS COMPUTER, HE WHISTLES ALONG WITH THE SONG AS HE SIGNS SOME PAPERWORK. A MALE NURSE ENTERS THE OFFICE AND OFFERS HIM A CUP OF TEA; HE THANKS THE YOUNG MAN FOR IT AND DRINKS IT AS HE FINISHES UP THE LAST OF HIS PAPER WORK. THE OFFICE IS VERY BEAR; A SINGLE BOX SITS BESIDE THE DESK CONTAINING A FEW PERSONAL ITEMS, A CALENDAR ON HIS DESK SHOWS THE DATE. AEGROR FINISHES HIS TEA AND PUTS THE PAPERWORK IN A PILE, TAKES OFF HIS LAB COAT AND PUTS ON A LONG WHITE OVERCOAT. AS HE CHANGES COATS WE SEE THAT HE WEARS A SOLID GOLD CHAIN AND PENDANT IN THE SHAPE OF A FIVE POINTED CROWN. HE PACKS UP HIS LAST FEW THINGS INTO THE BOX AND LEAVES HIS OFFICE.
SCENE CONTINUED, WITHIN THE HOSPITAL.
AEGROR WALK’S AROUND THE WARDS TO SEE HIS PATIENTS, IT IS CLEAR THEY ALL LIKE HIM. HE SAYS GOODBYE TO EACH OF THEM AND GIVES EACH PATIENT A HANDSHAKE BEFORE MOVING ONTO THE NEXT. AT 7 PM, HE IS SEEN OFF BY THE DOCTORS AND NURSES, SOME GIVE HANDSHAKES, OTHERS HUGS. HE IS GIVEN A BOTTLE OF EXPENSIVE SINGLE MALT BY THE CHIEF OF MEDICINE. HE SMILES, THANKS THEM ALL AND LEAVES.
SCENE CHANGE.
3 EXT. BERLIN. NIGHT. 13th NOVEMBER. 2010.
AEGROR WALKS THROUGH THE SEMI DESERTED STREETS OF BERLIN. HE IDLY ADMIRES THE BOTTLE AND WHISTLES THE SONG TO HIMSELF. A GROUP OF FOUR MEN SEE THE BOTTLE AND BEGIN TO FOLLOW A SHORT DISTANCE BEHIND HIM. AFTER A FEW STREETS AEGROR PAUSES IN MID STEP, SMIRKS TO HIMSELF AND WALKS INTO AN ALLEY, QUICKLY FOLLOWED BY THE MUGGERS.
4 EXT. BERLIN. NIGHT. ALLEY. CONTINUED.
AEGROR STANDS NONCHALANTLY AT THE END OF THE ALLEY, HIS BACK TO THE WALL; LIGHTLY TOSSING THE BOTTLE FROM ONE HAND TO ANOTHER. HIS WHITE COAT GLOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT. HE SPEAKS TO THE MEN IN FLUENT GERMAN, WITH SUBTITLES FOR TRANSLATION.
AEGROR: Can I help you gentlemen?
THUG #1: Yeah you can, friend. You can hand over your money and walk out of here.
THUG #2: Or else you’ll be crawling out. If you’re lucky.
AEGROR: So it’s my money or my life? Not very original I must say. But I guess if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. So which is it?
THUG #2: What?
AEGROR: My money or my life?
THUG #1: That depends upon you.
AEGROR: Well... You see there’s the problem. I don’t have any money on me.
THE MEN ADVANCE. THEY DRAW WEAPONS FROM THEIR JACKET POCKETS. EACH EYEING THE GOLDEN CROWN PENDENT AROUND HIS NECK, AS IT GLINTS IN THE DARK. AEGROR GRINS LIKE A JACKAL AS HE WALKS TOWARDS THEM, STILL JUGGLING THE BOTTLE. THE MUGGERS PAUSE, UNCERTAIN AS HE CONTINUES TO SMILE WHILE HE ADVANCES. HIS COAT BILLOWS IN THE WIND AS HIS PENDENT BEGINS TO GLOW WITH COLD GOLDEN LIGHT. AS HE REACHES THEM, ONE OF THE MEN PLUNGES HIS KNIFE INTO HIS CHEST, BUT HE DOESN'T FLINCH OR SCREAM AND NO BLOOD POURS FROM THE WOUND. HE LOOKS INTO THE MUGGERS TERRIFIED EYES.
AEGROR: The thing is, friend… I don’t have a life to lose either.
THE MEN TURN TO RUN BUT AS THEY TURN AEGROR IS NOW BEHIND THEM, BLOCKING THE EXIT TO THE ALLEY. HE STALKS TOWARDS THEM AS THEY BACK AGAINST THE ALLEY WALL DESPERATELY SEEKING ESCAPE, WHILE THEY WATCH AEGROR AS HE REMOVES THE KNIFE AND IT RUSTS IN HIS HAND. HIS EYES LOSE ALL COLOUR AND TURN BLACK WITH TWO WHITE DOTS AT THE CENTRE.
What will it be, your money… or your life?
5 ALLEY EXT. BERLIN. NIGHT. 13th NOVEMBER. 2010.
FOUR VOICES SCREAM. FOLLOWED BY SILENCE. AFTER A MOMENT, PESTILENCE WALKS OUT INTO THE STREET, WHISTLING AND STRAIGHTENING HIS COAT. HE UNSCREWS THE BOTTLE AND TAKES A LIGHT SWIG, SMACKING HIS LIPS. HE THEN TAKES OUT A CIGARETTE AND CASUALLY LIGHTS IT DRAWING DEEPLY ON THE SMOKE. HE BLOWS ON THE MATCH, CURDLING THE FLAME, TURNING IT FIRST BLUE, THEN BLACK. HE SMILES AND WALKS AWAY.
6 ALLEY INT. BERLIN. NIGHT. 13th NOVEMBER. 2010.
INSIDE THE ALLEY THE FOUR MEN LIE SLUMPED UPON THE GROUND. THEIR KNIVES CORODED INTO POOLS OF RUSTED METAL BESIDE THEM. THUG 1# (BENJAMIN) RISES FROM THE GROUND, HIS EYES STRUGGLING TO FOCUS.
THUG #1: What happened?
HE LOOKS AROUND THE ALLEY AT THE SLUMPED FORMS AROUND HIM, BUT BEFORE HE CAN EXPLORE FURTHER HE SEES A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG WOMAN; DEATH/MOIRAI. SHE WEARS DARK BLUE CLOTHING AND ON HER WRIST SHE WEARS A SMALL SILVER SCYTHE CHARM BRACELET.
MOIRAI: Benjamin Mehler?
THUG #1: Yeah? Who are you? What happened?
MOIRAI: What do you think happened?
THUG #1: We followed that guy in here… He attacked us and…
HE LOOKS AT THE SLUMPED BODIES AND RECOGNISES ONE OF THEM AS HIMSELF. HIS SKIN ROTTEN WITH DISEASE.
Oh…
MOIRAI: Yes.
THUG #1: I wasn't expecting this.
MOIRAI: You’d be surprised how many do.
THUG #1: I don't suppose there's...
MOIRAI: There isn't.
THUG #1 : Who was he?
MOIRAI: An old friend… It is not your place to know. Now away with you.
THUG #1: Does it help if I say I'm sorry?
MOIRAI: It couldn't hurt.
HE STARTS TO FADE, BECOMING TRANSPARENT.
THUG #1: We couldn't hurt him, why did he do it?
MOIRAI WALKS AROUND THE BODIES AND INSPECTS THE SCORTCH MARKS, SHE TURNS TO REPLY BUT BENJAMIN’S SPIRIT HAS FADED AWAY. SHE SIGHS SADLY.
MOITAI: Probably because he thought it was funny.
SHE WALKS INTO THE WALL OF THE ALLEY AND DISAPPEARS.
SCENE END.
7 EXT. MOTORWAY. ENGLAND. M1. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
‘LOSING MY RELIGION’ BY R.E.M. PLAYS AS WAR/ARTHUR KEDEHERN, RIDES ON A CRIMSON MOTORBIKE, TRAVELLING AT A STEADY SPEED ALONG THE MOTORWAY. HE WEARS A TATTERED BROWN LEATHER JACKET, A RED HELMET WITH A BLACK VISOR. THE SUN RISES BEHIND HIM. HE PASSES A SIGN.
LONDON; 120 MILES
8 EXT. A BUSY STREET. LONDON. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
ARTHUR DRIVES THROUGH THE MORNING TRAFFIC. DARTING CARELESSLY BETWEEN THE GRIDLOCKED CARS.
9 EXT. IN FRONT OF A CAFÉ. LONDON. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
ARTHUR PARKS HIS BIKE NEXT TO FAMINE’S BLACK GAS SCOOTER. HE REMOVES HIS HELMET AND TAKES HIS KEY OUT OF THE IGNITION. HE TAKES OUT THE HEADPHONES AND THE MUSIC CUTS OFF, HE FLINCHES SLIGHTLY AS THE SOUNDS OF THE CITY RETURNS. DESPITE THE TATTERED CLOTHING, HIS FACE IS CLEAN AND SHAVEN AND HIS HAIR IS SHORT. THE KEY HAS A CHAIN WITH A TINY IRON SWORD ATTACHED TO IT. ARTHUR DISMOUNTS AND PETS HIS BIKE REASSURINGLY BEFORE ENTERING THE CAFE.
10 INT. CAFÉ. LONDON. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
ARTHUR LOOKS AROUND THE BUSY CAFÉ. THE TABLES ARE FUL WITH PEOPLE EATING BREAKFAST, EXCEPT FOR ONE. FAMINE/MINERVA CONDUIRE SITS ALONE IN A LARGE BOOTH, LOOKING OVER THREE DIFFERENT MENUS. SHE IS YOUNG AND VERY BEAUTIFUL, WEARING FIGURE HUGGING BLACK JEANS AND TOP. SHE WEARS A BRASS BELT BUCKLE IN THE SHAPE OF SCALES. A NEWS REPORT PLAYS ON A TELEVISION IN THE CORNER. A WAITRESS APPROACHES THE BOOTH.
WAITRESS: Are you ready to order yet?
MINERVA PUTS DOWN HER MENUS CALMLY AND TURNS TO HER.
MINERVA: Not yet, I'm just waiting on someone.
WAITRESS: Are you sure?
MINERVA GRIPS THE MENU QUICKLY AND TALKS MANICALLY.
MINERVA: O.k. you twisted my arm. I’ll start with the pancakes.
WAITRESS: O.k.
THE WAITRESS WRITES DOWN HER ORDER AND STARTS TO WALK AWAY.
MINERVA: And some bacon with tomatoes.
WAITRESS: Which kind of tomatoes?
MINERVA: Can I get, fried, fresh and chopped please. I’ll also have some potatoes. Both mashed and baked. Some sausages as well, Ooh and the pie.
WAITRESS : Anything else?
MINERVA: Yeah. The cheese burger. The fish. The steak, tuna sandwich and a chicken wrap. And to top it, I’ll have raspberry ripple ice cream.
WAITRESS : Madam we have not begun serving lunch this early.
MINERVA: Right, this is breakfast.
WAITRESS: Miss... You can’t order those things, you’ll be sick.
MINERVA SMILES SWEETLY AND PLACES A WAD OF MONEY UPON THE TABLE. WINKING AT THE WAITRESS.
MINERVA: I think that you’ll find I can order what I like.
THE WAITRESS STARES IN DISBELIEF AT THE MONEY, POCKETS IT AND HEADS STRAIGHT FOR THE KITCHEN.
11 INT. CAFÉ. WAR’S PERSPECTIVE. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
MINERVA SEE’S WAR, SHE STANDS TO GREET HIM. WAR SMILES AND WALKS TOWARD HER.
MINERVA: Hello handsome.
ARTHUR: I see that you haven’t lost your people skills.
SHE LAUGHS.
MINERVA: It’s great to see you.
ARTHUR OFFERS HIS HAND TO HER, SHE LOOKS SCEPTICALLY AT HIM.
MINERVA: Really? Come on, is that all you've got for an old friend.
ARTHUR ROLLS HIS EYES AND HUGS HER.
MINERVA: See. It’s not so bad.
ARTHUR: Can you let go now?
MINERVA: Not until it’s awkward.
ARTHUR: Min?
MINERVA: Yeah?
ARTHUR: Did you just sniff my hair?
MINERVA: Little bit.
ARTHUR: Min?
MINERVA: Yeah?
ARTHUR: It’s awkward. In fact I'm certain we've strayed into ‘down right, creepy.’
MINERVA: Yeah I took that too far.
THEY SIT ON OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE TABLE.
ARTHUR: Where did you learn that trick?
MINERVA: What trick?
ARTHUR: The money that you gave to that girl. It’s fairy gold. It’ll be vapour by tomorrow morning.
MINERVA: Oh that. I picked up that trick from one of the Fay.
ARTHUR: When did you meet a Fay?
MINERVA: Ireland. Back in 1845. She was a real lady of the glen if you get my meaning. She tried to keep the same pace all week long, bless her heart. She still sends me a Christmas card every year, always inviting me out for another drink. I think I may take her up on that offer one of these days, although we didn't do much drinking as I recall. She was a bad girl.
HE STARES AT HER.
ARTHUR: Right... well, you can’t use illusions to pay for your food, I know you, and you’d never stop eating.
MINERVA: Are you afraid it’ll all go to my thighs?
ARTHUR ROLLS HIS EYES AND STARES AT HER.
MINERVA: You really need to chill. The illusion dissolves after two days; she’ll have spent it by then. I'm still gonna pay my bill with the genuine queen, it was just a little incentive is all. Scouts Honour.
ARTHUR: Like you’re a scout.
MINERVA: Since when are you so moral anyway?
ARTHUR: So, what name are you going by these days?
MINERVA: Minerva Conduire. Nice huh.
ARTHUR: It’s not bad.
MINERVA: And you?
WAR: Arthur.
MINERVA: How noble. Long has it been now since we last hung out together? Two, three, fifty years?
ARTHUR: 42 years.
MINERVA: Oh yeah, Vietnam, city of Hue, right? We had that drinking contest.
ARTHUR: Yep.
MINERVA: Didn't end well, right?
ARTHUR: 28 days of massacre. How can you not remember?
MINERVA: I drank so much tequila that I still can’t remember most of that decade. I’m surprised you can. Although, I do remember waking up very sated, thanks to you.
ARTHUR COUGHS AND TRIES TO ESCAPE HER GAZE.
ARTHUR: Yeah... well, lord knows I've been trying to forget.
MINERVA: Aww that hurts my ego.
ARTHUR: Don't you mean feelings?
MINERVA: Same thing.
THE WAITRESS RETURNS WITH A LARGE PLATER OF FOOD.
WAITRESS: Can I get you anything else?
MINERVA: I’ll whistle if I need you.
ARTHUR TRIES TO GET THE WAITRESS’s ATTENTION BUT SHE IGNORES HIM. ONLY PAYING ATTENTION TO MINERVA, WHO BEGINS TO TEAR INTO HER FOOD LIKE A JACKAL.
ARTHUR: Must you flirt with everything? So, how’ve you been?
MINERVA: Oh... you know this and that. Business in the modelling is booming. Another photography temp passed out last week; poor things can’t seem to hold it together. And my new diet book is a smash. Yourself?
ARTHUR: Travelling mostly, Germany, Russia, China, Japan, Africa, Korea… stayed in America for a while. But I thought I might come here for a bit.
FAMINE: Sounds like you've been busy. Well I guess foreign crises aren't going to organise themselves.
ARTHUR: I haven’t interfered in many years Min. My psychiatrist suggests that I should try settling down for a while. She suggested I should stay with a friend.
MINERVA SPEWS HER FOOD AT HIM.
MINERVA: You’re WHAT?!
THE CAFÉ IS QUIET AS EVERYONE STARES AT THE BOOTH.
No time for this. Eyes forward! Forget!
THE PEOPLE TURN AWAY, THEIR NECKS ALMOST STRAINING FROM WHIPLASH. AFTER A MOMENT THE ATMOSPHERE RETURNS TO HOW IT WAS, AS THOUGH THE OUTBURST NEVER HAPPENED.
WAR: You shouldn't do that either, you know it messes with their heads after a while.
SHE LEANS ACROSS AND FRANTICALLY WHISPERS.
MINERVA: You’re seeing a shrink? A Human shrink? Why? For how long?
ARTHUR: Three years. Things have been getting out of hand in the last century. It’s no longer little tribes with spears fighting for honour. Its all gotten too big. I didn't know who to talk to about it, so three years ago I sought out a professional.
MINERVA: I knew that you haven’t exactly been on top form in the last sixty years but I didn't know it was this hard for you… You could have talked to me… wait, you didn't tell him what we are, did you?
ARTHUR: I told her that I was a soldier in Iraq. It was easy enough to convince her, although forging the paper work took a couple of days. And it wasn't a total lie, I was there... in a fashion.
SILENCE.
MINERVA So, what are you doing now?
ARTHUR: I'm thinking of getting a house for a while. Maybe a job.
MINERVA: What’s next, are you going to take up painting?
ARTHUR: Why’s that so strange. You've been working for years.
MINERVA: I've always been a worker a worker; I just shifted my profession a touch. You’re a warrior, always have been. You've never been comfortable in one place for more than a few days..
ARTHUR: Well maybe it’s time for me to change.
MINERVA: What do you want… Forgiveness?
ARTHUR: Don’t you?
SHE SIGHS AND PLAYS WITH THE KNIFE IN HER HAND.
MINERVA: Be nice if it was that easy… So then, if you've already decided to go 'moon-child', why are you telling me?
ARTHUR TWISTS A SILVER RING ON HIS RIGHT HAND.
ARTHUR: I haven’t spoken to Moirai, not since we had that fight.
MINERVA NODS HER HEAD.
MINERVA: I remember that one; although the tsunami was a touch over the top, for her I mean. Thought she’d have forgiven you by now, though.
ARTHUR SHAKES HIS HEAD SLOWLY.
ARTHUR: And as for... Him, I’d rather not have to confide in him. He’s never respected any of our life choices. Honestly, you’re the only friend I have left Min.
SHE REACHES ACROSS THE TABLE AND TAKES HIS HAND.
MINERVA: When did you become such a dork.
THEY LAUGH.
MINERVA: You’re lucky you're cute. I could do with some company; mortals get so cumbersome after a while. You can bunk with me.
ARTHUR: I'm not sure if that’s a good idea. I like your company Min, but I should find my own place to live.
MINERVA: Are you daft? It’s going to take you months to find a place to live in this city. Besides, do you have any money?
ARTHUR: Not as such. Besides I like sleeping outside.
MINERVA: I can’t let you sleep on the street, someone could get hurt.
ARTHUR: And how exactly could they hurt me?
MINERVA; It’s not you I'm worried about. If you’re dead set on moving here, then you can stay in my spare room until you are sorted, however long that takes. Deal?
ARTHUR: Promise me I'm not going to wake up and find you drunk and sleeping on top of me, again.
MINERVA: I make no guaranties.
HE SIGHS.
ARTHUR: Fine, I’ll take my chances.
MINERVA: I don’t fancy your odds; the lock on that room is as sturdy as tinfoil. Oh and you are coming out tonight.
ARTHUR: Whatever.
MINERVA: Wow, therapy must be working; you've never been this much of a push over.
ARTHUR: Watch it.
MINERVA: That’s the Red rider I remember. For what it’s worth; I'm glad you've came and told me about this. But next time, don’t leave it so long.
ARTHUR: I Promise.
MINERVA: liar.
MINERVA WHISTLES AND THE WAITRESS APPROACHES.
WAITRESS: Yes Miss?
MINERVA: The steak for my friend, please. And two cokes. On my tab.
THE WAITRESS RUNS INTO THE KITCHEN AND RETURNS WITH A STEAK MEAL. AND THEN LEAVES.
That girl’s a freaking Olympian. I miss those guys, always up for a party. And I’ll tell you, that Zeus truly was a god of thunder.
ARTHUR: You’re sharing? That’s new.
MINERVA: Seems like a day for revelations, doesn't it? But I get half.
SCENE END.
Age: 16+
Word Count: 3,130
Warnings: magical elements, murder, violence. dark comedy.
Summary: The horseman War has given up his function and is attempting a human existence while dealing with monsters and magic in London. While ancient pacts are broken and plots are hatched by a rider in white.
Hi everyone, thanks for taking the time to read this. I've been working on this pilot for a few years now, I know what it wants to be and where it will go (I've got a fun idea with vampires for the second episode) but I'm having trouble getting it there. Any and all criticisms will be welcome, or if you just feel like saying what a brilliant, talented and strikingly handsome young man I am, then that is also welcome. enjoy.
Horsemen, episode 1: Revelations.
1 EXT. HIROSHIMA. SUNSET. 9th AUGUST. 1945.
THICK ASH SWIRLS THROUGH THE AIR LIKE FOG. THROUGH THE MURK LOOMS THE SILHOUETTES OF RUINED BUILDINGS AND FALLEN BODIES. SURVIVORS CRAWL, CRY AND SCREAM IN THE DEAD MISTS. OVER THE CARNAGE WE HEAR WAR/ARTHUR BREATHING DEEPLY, THE VOICE OF HIS PSYCHIATRIST SPEAKS TO HIM CALMLY.
PSYCHIATRIST: Breathe in and out. In and out. That’s it. Now Arthur, tell me where you are.
ARTHUR: I am... in the aftermath.
THE SILHOUETTE OF WAR WALKS DOWN THE STREET; AS WAR WALKS, THE ASH AND FOG LESSENS SLIGHTLY SO THAT WE CAN SEE HIM MORE CLEARLY. HE WEARS IRON GREY KNIGHTS ARMOUR, A RED TUNIC, SCARF AND THE TATTERED REMAINS OF A BROWN LEATHER CLOAK. IN HIS RIGHT HAND HE CARRIES AN IRON BROAD SWORD, BLOOD RED FLAMES FLICKER ALONG THE BLADE. THE HOOD OF HIS CLOAK OBSCURES HIS FACE.
PSYCHIATRIST: Are you alone?
ARTHUR: No.
FOLLOWING AT A SHORT DISTANCE ARE THE ARMOURED SILHOUETTE’S OF PESTILENCE, FAMINE AND DEATH. ASIDE FROM THEIR SHAPES WE SEE THE FAINT GLOW OF THEIR WEAPONS: A GOLDEN GLOWING CROWN, A PALE BLUE GLOWING SCYTHE AND A SET OF BRONZE GLOWING SCALES. THEY WALK APART FROM EACH OTHER ALL IN THEIR OWN WORLD OF THOUGHT.
PSYCHIATRIST: Who is with you?
ARTHUR: My friends.
PSYCHIATRIST: And what do you see?
HE COMES TO THE END OF THE STREET, THE ASH CLEARS TO REVEAL THE REMAINS OF HIROSHIMA, THE BUILDINGS RUINED, AND THE STREETS ARE POOLS OF MOLTEN STONE. THE SKY IS BLOOD RED, DOMINATED BY A BLACK MUSHROOM CLOUD.
ARTHUR: What I am, what I've always been and all that it implies.
WAR HOLDS OUT HIS GLOVED HAND, COLLECTING THE ASH FROM THE AIR.
PSYCHIATRIST: And is that what you want to be?
HIS HAND SQUEEZES THE ASH TIGHTLY.
ARTHUR: ‘… No.’
FADE TO TITLE SCREEN.
TITLE SCREEN:
SILENCE AS THE TITLE APPEARS IN CRIMSON LETTERS.
HORSEMEN.
SCENE END.
2 INT. HOSPITAL. BERLIN. LATE AFTERNOON. 14TH NOVEMBER. 2010.
PESTILENCE/DR. JONATHAN AEGROR SITS IN HIS OFFICE. ‘BUBBLE’S’ BY BIFFY CLYRO PLAYS ON HIS COMPUTER, HE WHISTLES ALONG WITH THE SONG AS HE SIGNS SOME PAPERWORK. A MALE NURSE ENTERS THE OFFICE AND OFFERS HIM A CUP OF TEA; HE THANKS THE YOUNG MAN FOR IT AND DRINKS IT AS HE FINISHES UP THE LAST OF HIS PAPER WORK. THE OFFICE IS VERY BEAR; A SINGLE BOX SITS BESIDE THE DESK CONTAINING A FEW PERSONAL ITEMS, A CALENDAR ON HIS DESK SHOWS THE DATE. AEGROR FINISHES HIS TEA AND PUTS THE PAPERWORK IN A PILE, TAKES OFF HIS LAB COAT AND PUTS ON A LONG WHITE OVERCOAT. AS HE CHANGES COATS WE SEE THAT HE WEARS A SOLID GOLD CHAIN AND PENDANT IN THE SHAPE OF A FIVE POINTED CROWN. HE PACKS UP HIS LAST FEW THINGS INTO THE BOX AND LEAVES HIS OFFICE.
SCENE CONTINUED, WITHIN THE HOSPITAL.
AEGROR WALK’S AROUND THE WARDS TO SEE HIS PATIENTS, IT IS CLEAR THEY ALL LIKE HIM. HE SAYS GOODBYE TO EACH OF THEM AND GIVES EACH PATIENT A HANDSHAKE BEFORE MOVING ONTO THE NEXT. AT 7 PM, HE IS SEEN OFF BY THE DOCTORS AND NURSES, SOME GIVE HANDSHAKES, OTHERS HUGS. HE IS GIVEN A BOTTLE OF EXPENSIVE SINGLE MALT BY THE CHIEF OF MEDICINE. HE SMILES, THANKS THEM ALL AND LEAVES.
SCENE CHANGE.
3 EXT. BERLIN. NIGHT. 13th NOVEMBER. 2010.
AEGROR WALKS THROUGH THE SEMI DESERTED STREETS OF BERLIN. HE IDLY ADMIRES THE BOTTLE AND WHISTLES THE SONG TO HIMSELF. A GROUP OF FOUR MEN SEE THE BOTTLE AND BEGIN TO FOLLOW A SHORT DISTANCE BEHIND HIM. AFTER A FEW STREETS AEGROR PAUSES IN MID STEP, SMIRKS TO HIMSELF AND WALKS INTO AN ALLEY, QUICKLY FOLLOWED BY THE MUGGERS.
4 EXT. BERLIN. NIGHT. ALLEY. CONTINUED.
AEGROR STANDS NONCHALANTLY AT THE END OF THE ALLEY, HIS BACK TO THE WALL; LIGHTLY TOSSING THE BOTTLE FROM ONE HAND TO ANOTHER. HIS WHITE COAT GLOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT. HE SPEAKS TO THE MEN IN FLUENT GERMAN, WITH SUBTITLES FOR TRANSLATION.
AEGROR: Can I help you gentlemen?
THUG #1: Yeah you can, friend. You can hand over your money and walk out of here.
THUG #2: Or else you’ll be crawling out. If you’re lucky.
AEGROR: So it’s my money or my life? Not very original I must say. But I guess if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. So which is it?
THUG #2: What?
AEGROR: My money or my life?
THUG #1: That depends upon you.
AEGROR: Well... You see there’s the problem. I don’t have any money on me.
THE MEN ADVANCE. THEY DRAW WEAPONS FROM THEIR JACKET POCKETS. EACH EYEING THE GOLDEN CROWN PENDENT AROUND HIS NECK, AS IT GLINTS IN THE DARK. AEGROR GRINS LIKE A JACKAL AS HE WALKS TOWARDS THEM, STILL JUGGLING THE BOTTLE. THE MUGGERS PAUSE, UNCERTAIN AS HE CONTINUES TO SMILE WHILE HE ADVANCES. HIS COAT BILLOWS IN THE WIND AS HIS PENDENT BEGINS TO GLOW WITH COLD GOLDEN LIGHT. AS HE REACHES THEM, ONE OF THE MEN PLUNGES HIS KNIFE INTO HIS CHEST, BUT HE DOESN'T FLINCH OR SCREAM AND NO BLOOD POURS FROM THE WOUND. HE LOOKS INTO THE MUGGERS TERRIFIED EYES.
AEGROR: The thing is, friend… I don’t have a life to lose either.
THE MEN TURN TO RUN BUT AS THEY TURN AEGROR IS NOW BEHIND THEM, BLOCKING THE EXIT TO THE ALLEY. HE STALKS TOWARDS THEM AS THEY BACK AGAINST THE ALLEY WALL DESPERATELY SEEKING ESCAPE, WHILE THEY WATCH AEGROR AS HE REMOVES THE KNIFE AND IT RUSTS IN HIS HAND. HIS EYES LOSE ALL COLOUR AND TURN BLACK WITH TWO WHITE DOTS AT THE CENTRE.
What will it be, your money… or your life?
5 ALLEY EXT. BERLIN. NIGHT. 13th NOVEMBER. 2010.
FOUR VOICES SCREAM. FOLLOWED BY SILENCE. AFTER A MOMENT, PESTILENCE WALKS OUT INTO THE STREET, WHISTLING AND STRAIGHTENING HIS COAT. HE UNSCREWS THE BOTTLE AND TAKES A LIGHT SWIG, SMACKING HIS LIPS. HE THEN TAKES OUT A CIGARETTE AND CASUALLY LIGHTS IT DRAWING DEEPLY ON THE SMOKE. HE BLOWS ON THE MATCH, CURDLING THE FLAME, TURNING IT FIRST BLUE, THEN BLACK. HE SMILES AND WALKS AWAY.
6 ALLEY INT. BERLIN. NIGHT. 13th NOVEMBER. 2010.
INSIDE THE ALLEY THE FOUR MEN LIE SLUMPED UPON THE GROUND. THEIR KNIVES CORODED INTO POOLS OF RUSTED METAL BESIDE THEM. THUG 1# (BENJAMIN) RISES FROM THE GROUND, HIS EYES STRUGGLING TO FOCUS.
THUG #1: What happened?
HE LOOKS AROUND THE ALLEY AT THE SLUMPED FORMS AROUND HIM, BUT BEFORE HE CAN EXPLORE FURTHER HE SEES A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG WOMAN; DEATH/MOIRAI. SHE WEARS DARK BLUE CLOTHING AND ON HER WRIST SHE WEARS A SMALL SILVER SCYTHE CHARM BRACELET.
MOIRAI: Benjamin Mehler?
THUG #1: Yeah? Who are you? What happened?
MOIRAI: What do you think happened?
THUG #1: We followed that guy in here… He attacked us and…
HE LOOKS AT THE SLUMPED BODIES AND RECOGNISES ONE OF THEM AS HIMSELF. HIS SKIN ROTTEN WITH DISEASE.
Oh…
MOIRAI: Yes.
THUG #1: I wasn't expecting this.
MOIRAI: You’d be surprised how many do.
THUG #1: I don't suppose there's...
MOIRAI: There isn't.
THUG #1 : Who was he?
MOIRAI: An old friend… It is not your place to know. Now away with you.
THUG #1: Does it help if I say I'm sorry?
MOIRAI: It couldn't hurt.
HE STARTS TO FADE, BECOMING TRANSPARENT.
THUG #1: We couldn't hurt him, why did he do it?
MOIRAI WALKS AROUND THE BODIES AND INSPECTS THE SCORTCH MARKS, SHE TURNS TO REPLY BUT BENJAMIN’S SPIRIT HAS FADED AWAY. SHE SIGHS SADLY.
MOITAI: Probably because he thought it was funny.
SHE WALKS INTO THE WALL OF THE ALLEY AND DISAPPEARS.
SCENE END.
7 EXT. MOTORWAY. ENGLAND. M1. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
‘LOSING MY RELIGION’ BY R.E.M. PLAYS AS WAR/ARTHUR KEDEHERN, RIDES ON A CRIMSON MOTORBIKE, TRAVELLING AT A STEADY SPEED ALONG THE MOTORWAY. HE WEARS A TATTERED BROWN LEATHER JACKET, A RED HELMET WITH A BLACK VISOR. THE SUN RISES BEHIND HIM. HE PASSES A SIGN.
LONDON; 120 MILES
8 EXT. A BUSY STREET. LONDON. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
ARTHUR DRIVES THROUGH THE MORNING TRAFFIC. DARTING CARELESSLY BETWEEN THE GRIDLOCKED CARS.
9 EXT. IN FRONT OF A CAFÉ. LONDON. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
ARTHUR PARKS HIS BIKE NEXT TO FAMINE’S BLACK GAS SCOOTER. HE REMOVES HIS HELMET AND TAKES HIS KEY OUT OF THE IGNITION. HE TAKES OUT THE HEADPHONES AND THE MUSIC CUTS OFF, HE FLINCHES SLIGHTLY AS THE SOUNDS OF THE CITY RETURNS. DESPITE THE TATTERED CLOTHING, HIS FACE IS CLEAN AND SHAVEN AND HIS HAIR IS SHORT. THE KEY HAS A CHAIN WITH A TINY IRON SWORD ATTACHED TO IT. ARTHUR DISMOUNTS AND PETS HIS BIKE REASSURINGLY BEFORE ENTERING THE CAFE.
10 INT. CAFÉ. LONDON. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
ARTHUR LOOKS AROUND THE BUSY CAFÉ. THE TABLES ARE FUL WITH PEOPLE EATING BREAKFAST, EXCEPT FOR ONE. FAMINE/MINERVA CONDUIRE SITS ALONE IN A LARGE BOOTH, LOOKING OVER THREE DIFFERENT MENUS. SHE IS YOUNG AND VERY BEAUTIFUL, WEARING FIGURE HUGGING BLACK JEANS AND TOP. SHE WEARS A BRASS BELT BUCKLE IN THE SHAPE OF SCALES. A NEWS REPORT PLAYS ON A TELEVISION IN THE CORNER. A WAITRESS APPROACHES THE BOOTH.
WAITRESS: Are you ready to order yet?
MINERVA PUTS DOWN HER MENUS CALMLY AND TURNS TO HER.
MINERVA: Not yet, I'm just waiting on someone.
WAITRESS: Are you sure?
MINERVA GRIPS THE MENU QUICKLY AND TALKS MANICALLY.
MINERVA: O.k. you twisted my arm. I’ll start with the pancakes.
WAITRESS: O.k.
THE WAITRESS WRITES DOWN HER ORDER AND STARTS TO WALK AWAY.
MINERVA: And some bacon with tomatoes.
WAITRESS: Which kind of tomatoes?
MINERVA: Can I get, fried, fresh and chopped please. I’ll also have some potatoes. Both mashed and baked. Some sausages as well, Ooh and the pie.
WAITRESS : Anything else?
MINERVA: Yeah. The cheese burger. The fish. The steak, tuna sandwich and a chicken wrap. And to top it, I’ll have raspberry ripple ice cream.
WAITRESS : Madam we have not begun serving lunch this early.
MINERVA: Right, this is breakfast.
WAITRESS: Miss... You can’t order those things, you’ll be sick.
MINERVA SMILES SWEETLY AND PLACES A WAD OF MONEY UPON THE TABLE. WINKING AT THE WAITRESS.
MINERVA: I think that you’ll find I can order what I like.
THE WAITRESS STARES IN DISBELIEF AT THE MONEY, POCKETS IT AND HEADS STRAIGHT FOR THE KITCHEN.
11 INT. CAFÉ. WAR’S PERSPECTIVE. DAY. 15th NOVEMBER 2010.
MINERVA SEE’S WAR, SHE STANDS TO GREET HIM. WAR SMILES AND WALKS TOWARD HER.
MINERVA: Hello handsome.
ARTHUR: I see that you haven’t lost your people skills.
SHE LAUGHS.
MINERVA: It’s great to see you.
ARTHUR OFFERS HIS HAND TO HER, SHE LOOKS SCEPTICALLY AT HIM.
MINERVA: Really? Come on, is that all you've got for an old friend.
ARTHUR ROLLS HIS EYES AND HUGS HER.
MINERVA: See. It’s not so bad.
ARTHUR: Can you let go now?
MINERVA: Not until it’s awkward.
ARTHUR: Min?
MINERVA: Yeah?
ARTHUR: Did you just sniff my hair?
MINERVA: Little bit.
ARTHUR: Min?
MINERVA: Yeah?
ARTHUR: It’s awkward. In fact I'm certain we've strayed into ‘down right, creepy.’
MINERVA: Yeah I took that too far.
THEY SIT ON OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE TABLE.
ARTHUR: Where did you learn that trick?
MINERVA: What trick?
ARTHUR: The money that you gave to that girl. It’s fairy gold. It’ll be vapour by tomorrow morning.
MINERVA: Oh that. I picked up that trick from one of the Fay.
ARTHUR: When did you meet a Fay?
MINERVA: Ireland. Back in 1845. She was a real lady of the glen if you get my meaning. She tried to keep the same pace all week long, bless her heart. She still sends me a Christmas card every year, always inviting me out for another drink. I think I may take her up on that offer one of these days, although we didn't do much drinking as I recall. She was a bad girl.
HE STARES AT HER.
ARTHUR: Right... well, you can’t use illusions to pay for your food, I know you, and you’d never stop eating.
MINERVA: Are you afraid it’ll all go to my thighs?
ARTHUR ROLLS HIS EYES AND STARES AT HER.
MINERVA: You really need to chill. The illusion dissolves after two days; she’ll have spent it by then. I'm still gonna pay my bill with the genuine queen, it was just a little incentive is all. Scouts Honour.
ARTHUR: Like you’re a scout.
MINERVA: Since when are you so moral anyway?
ARTHUR: So, what name are you going by these days?
MINERVA: Minerva Conduire. Nice huh.
ARTHUR: It’s not bad.
MINERVA: And you?
WAR: Arthur.
MINERVA: How noble. Long has it been now since we last hung out together? Two, three, fifty years?
ARTHUR: 42 years.
MINERVA: Oh yeah, Vietnam, city of Hue, right? We had that drinking contest.
ARTHUR: Yep.
MINERVA: Didn't end well, right?
ARTHUR: 28 days of massacre. How can you not remember?
MINERVA: I drank so much tequila that I still can’t remember most of that decade. I’m surprised you can. Although, I do remember waking up very sated, thanks to you.
ARTHUR COUGHS AND TRIES TO ESCAPE HER GAZE.
ARTHUR: Yeah... well, lord knows I've been trying to forget.
MINERVA: Aww that hurts my ego.
ARTHUR: Don't you mean feelings?
MINERVA: Same thing.
THE WAITRESS RETURNS WITH A LARGE PLATER OF FOOD.
WAITRESS: Can I get you anything else?
MINERVA: I’ll whistle if I need you.
ARTHUR TRIES TO GET THE WAITRESS’s ATTENTION BUT SHE IGNORES HIM. ONLY PAYING ATTENTION TO MINERVA, WHO BEGINS TO TEAR INTO HER FOOD LIKE A JACKAL.
ARTHUR: Must you flirt with everything? So, how’ve you been?
MINERVA: Oh... you know this and that. Business in the modelling is booming. Another photography temp passed out last week; poor things can’t seem to hold it together. And my new diet book is a smash. Yourself?
ARTHUR: Travelling mostly, Germany, Russia, China, Japan, Africa, Korea… stayed in America for a while. But I thought I might come here for a bit.
FAMINE: Sounds like you've been busy. Well I guess foreign crises aren't going to organise themselves.
ARTHUR: I haven’t interfered in many years Min. My psychiatrist suggests that I should try settling down for a while. She suggested I should stay with a friend.
MINERVA SPEWS HER FOOD AT HIM.
MINERVA: You’re WHAT?!
THE CAFÉ IS QUIET AS EVERYONE STARES AT THE BOOTH.
No time for this. Eyes forward! Forget!
THE PEOPLE TURN AWAY, THEIR NECKS ALMOST STRAINING FROM WHIPLASH. AFTER A MOMENT THE ATMOSPHERE RETURNS TO HOW IT WAS, AS THOUGH THE OUTBURST NEVER HAPPENED.
WAR: You shouldn't do that either, you know it messes with their heads after a while.
SHE LEANS ACROSS AND FRANTICALLY WHISPERS.
MINERVA: You’re seeing a shrink? A Human shrink? Why? For how long?
ARTHUR: Three years. Things have been getting out of hand in the last century. It’s no longer little tribes with spears fighting for honour. Its all gotten too big. I didn't know who to talk to about it, so three years ago I sought out a professional.
MINERVA: I knew that you haven’t exactly been on top form in the last sixty years but I didn't know it was this hard for you… You could have talked to me… wait, you didn't tell him what we are, did you?
ARTHUR: I told her that I was a soldier in Iraq. It was easy enough to convince her, although forging the paper work took a couple of days. And it wasn't a total lie, I was there... in a fashion.
SILENCE.
MINERVA So, what are you doing now?
ARTHUR: I'm thinking of getting a house for a while. Maybe a job.
MINERVA: What’s next, are you going to take up painting?
ARTHUR: Why’s that so strange. You've been working for years.
MINERVA: I've always been a worker a worker; I just shifted my profession a touch. You’re a warrior, always have been. You've never been comfortable in one place for more than a few days..
ARTHUR: Well maybe it’s time for me to change.
MINERVA: What do you want… Forgiveness?
ARTHUR: Don’t you?
SHE SIGHS AND PLAYS WITH THE KNIFE IN HER HAND.
MINERVA: Be nice if it was that easy… So then, if you've already decided to go 'moon-child', why are you telling me?
ARTHUR TWISTS A SILVER RING ON HIS RIGHT HAND.
ARTHUR: I haven’t spoken to Moirai, not since we had that fight.
MINERVA NODS HER HEAD.
MINERVA: I remember that one; although the tsunami was a touch over the top, for her I mean. Thought she’d have forgiven you by now, though.
ARTHUR SHAKES HIS HEAD SLOWLY.
ARTHUR: And as for... Him, I’d rather not have to confide in him. He’s never respected any of our life choices. Honestly, you’re the only friend I have left Min.
SHE REACHES ACROSS THE TABLE AND TAKES HIS HAND.
MINERVA: When did you become such a dork.
THEY LAUGH.
MINERVA: You’re lucky you're cute. I could do with some company; mortals get so cumbersome after a while. You can bunk with me.
ARTHUR: I'm not sure if that’s a good idea. I like your company Min, but I should find my own place to live.
MINERVA: Are you daft? It’s going to take you months to find a place to live in this city. Besides, do you have any money?
ARTHUR: Not as such. Besides I like sleeping outside.
MINERVA: I can’t let you sleep on the street, someone could get hurt.
ARTHUR: And how exactly could they hurt me?
MINERVA; It’s not you I'm worried about. If you’re dead set on moving here, then you can stay in my spare room until you are sorted, however long that takes. Deal?
ARTHUR: Promise me I'm not going to wake up and find you drunk and sleeping on top of me, again.
MINERVA: I make no guaranties.
HE SIGHS.
ARTHUR: Fine, I’ll take my chances.
MINERVA: I don’t fancy your odds; the lock on that room is as sturdy as tinfoil. Oh and you are coming out tonight.
ARTHUR: Whatever.
MINERVA: Wow, therapy must be working; you've never been this much of a push over.
ARTHUR: Watch it.
MINERVA: That’s the Red rider I remember. For what it’s worth; I'm glad you've came and told me about this. But next time, don’t leave it so long.
ARTHUR: I Promise.
MINERVA: liar.
MINERVA WHISTLES AND THE WAITRESS APPROACHES.
WAITRESS: Yes Miss?
MINERVA: The steak for my friend, please. And two cokes. On my tab.
THE WAITRESS RUNS INTO THE KITCHEN AND RETURNS WITH A STEAK MEAL. AND THEN LEAVES.
That girl’s a freaking Olympian. I miss those guys, always up for a party. And I’ll tell you, that Zeus truly was a god of thunder.
ARTHUR: You’re sharing? That’s new.
MINERVA: Seems like a day for revelations, doesn't it? But I get half.
SCENE END.
so people don't get confused... my author name is the same as my actual name!