FADE IN:
INT. THE WHITE ROOM - DAY
The room is barren and everything is a spotless white. The
carpeting is new, and impeccably clean.
The ceiling fan turns slowly.
Translucent curtains flow as wind blows through the windows.
Pure white leaves fly in, twirling as they come to rest.
The PREY is middle-aged, tall, and fit. Short brown hair,
gray at the temples. He is straightforward with everything
he does, and lives plainly. He is wearing loose-cut slacks
and a white dress shirt. His shirt sticks to his chest due
to sweat.
His suit jacket lays crumpled in a heap.
He stands on guard. His demeanor is akin to a cornered tiger.
The HUNTER stands a few feet from him, gaze like a hawk's.
They stare at each other, measuring, calculating. It is
obvious they are both very dangerous.
The Prey tenses, and moves to a fighting stance.
His opponent waits, patiently.
Well-timed, the Prey strikes.
He is parried easily.
Undeterred, he presses again and again, but is repelled
consistently.
Fatigue takes the Prey. His attacks become wilder, more
desperate. Defensively, the Hunter throws the Prey into the
corner.
Beads of sweat trail down the Prey's face.
The Hunter is prime.
The Prey stands, and resolves himself.
THE PREY (VO)
I only need one.
Perfectly, in between HEARTBEATS, he strikes.
2.
He is parried easily. In one smooth action, the Hunter
draws a curved knife, and strikes.
Defeated, the Prey backs away and falls onto his knees.
He clutches his side. Blood spreads across his shirt.
The knife drips with blood.
THE PREY
I suppose this is where my story ends.
The Hunter, sixteen, is beautiful to look at. Long raven
hair, fine features, deep green eyes. He moves slowly,
purposefully, as though dancing. He is wearing black
underneath a thin, white overcoat.
THE HUNTER
Even fairy tales end.
The Hunter watches the Prey with an incredible intensity.
THE PREY
So, why?
The Hunter smirks.
He wipes his dagger clean ceremoniously, sheathes it.
The Hunter's reply is barely audible.
THE HUNTER
A falling leaf can trigger an
avalanche.
THE PREY
And I felled many leaves.
The Hunter whispers into his ear.
THE HUNTER
You are just another leaf.
THE PREY (VO)
When did I truly die?
The Prey raises a bloody hand, and clenches it.
The prey falls onto his back, and stares up at the ceiling.
The world spins.
THE PREY
This is my fate, then. [?]
Blood creeps around him, surrounding him in a crimson aura.
BLOW OUT TO WHITE:
3.
THE HUNTER
Live by the sword...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. DUSTY ROOM - AFTERNOON
Nothing can be seen, save a pair of hands holding a stack of
photographs.
The hands flip through them studiously.
They chronicle the Prey's childhood, backwards.
The hands stop at a photograph of a FATHER (42) and his SON
(8). They are well dressed and are all smiles.
The Father's hair is fully gray.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. OLD HOME - STUDY - DAY
The study is dominated by books. Shelves and shelves of
them cover the room like wallpaper. Stacks of books
surround a large oak desk.
The Father and Son stand in front of some bookshelves.
A camera mounted on a tripod stands in front of them. The
flash goes off, and the pair relax.
SON
Can I change now, dad?
FATHER
Not yet, kid. We need to take
another for Grandma.
SON
Dad! She got one last year!
FATHER
(melancholy)
So much has changed in the year,
though.
The father glances over at the desk, where a picture of a
woman sits.
He brightens as he turns back.
4.
FATHER
(cont.)
I mean, just look at how you've grown.
SON
Okay.
They take another picture.
FATHER
Okay, go! Play!
The Son runs out, cheering.
As soon as his Son is out of sight, his smile disappears.
The Father sits behind his desk and sweeps up the picture of
his wife.
He weeps.
INT. OLD HOME - LIVING ROOM - DAY
The room feels as though it has been preserved. Everything
is neatly organized and clean.
The clock on the wall is stopped.
The Father looks outside the window just in time to watch
his Son run off with his friends.
He draws the shades.
INT. OLD HOME - STUDY - AFTERNOON
Afternoon sun streams in through the window behind the desk.
The Father sits in contemplation.
He is holding a book.
A soft KNOCK.
FATHER
Yeah?
SON
You okay, dad?
The Son walks up next to his father.
SON
Dad?
5.
FATHER
Yes, son?
SON
I miss Mom too.
His son embraces him.
FATHER
When did you get so old?
SON
When did you?
He hugs his son harder.
They let go from the hug, and wipe their tears away.
FATHER
Don't you have any homework? You
have school tomorrow.
His Son shakes his head.
He looks down at the book in his hands.
He shows it to his son.
FATHER
This was your mother's favorite
book. She used to read it every
year, on this day.
He points at a few others.
FATHER
You should begin reading these now.
One a month is a good start.
The Son takes the book from his hands.
FATHER
Knowledge is strength, kid. Never
forget that.
He ruffles his Son's hair playfully.
FATHER
Now, go. Read, play, watch tv,
whatever. I should probably get
back to my work.
His Son walks off, sullen, but turns around at the door.
6.
SON
Can we just talk some more? Instead?
He grins at his son.
FATHER
There's always tomorrow, kid.
We'll talk then.
The Son nods, and closes the door behind him.
STUDY - MORNING
An older set of hands opens the door a crack. It CREAKS.
TEENAGER
Dad?
The Son, now a teenager, looks like a young Prey. Hearing
no response, he swings the door open further.
He steps through the doorway.
INT. FUNERAL HOME - DAY
The Parlor is decorated mildly. Some flowers line the walls.
A strip of carpet flanked by pews lead to a dark oak casket.
The Prey, teenaged, comes through the doorway.
LAMENTATION fills the room.
The father lays peacefully inside.
The Prey is fighting the urge to weep.
The room is filled with seated people. Silence is broken by
a priest chanting in prayer.
The Prey walks up to the casket and puts his Mother's book
in his dead father's hands.
TEENAGER
That day never came, dad.
The Prey walks away from the casket.
INT. BAR - NIGHT
The bar is dark, smoky, and filled to the brim with lonely
people. The walls are blue, and the windows have been
blacked out.
7.
Off to the side, some people are dancing. Multicolored
lights shine down on them.
The Prey sits at the bar, soaking in misery. And uncertainty.
Some of the patrons bump into him.
He doesn't care.
THE PREY (VO)
Something compelled me go there.
Time has two masks, and fear of
mortality is behind one of them.
Fate is the other.
WOMAN'S VOICE
You okay, kid?
He snaps from his trance, and turns to looks at SHARON for a
moment.
She is four years older than him, attractive, and is wearing
a light gray suit. Her movements are sharp, quick, graceful.
There is always more to her smile.
SHARON
You look young. How'd you get in
here, anyway?
With measuring eyes, she looks him over.
SHARON
Don't answer that.
He looks momentarily at the bartender, then nods to her in
agreement.
She orders a drink.
THE PREY (VO)
And so, there I was. The end of a
bottle, and the beginning of a new
life. Its kind of odd how fate
operates.
SHARON
Come with me. Someplace quiet.
He shrugs, and follows.
