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
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
Fatigue takes the Prey. His attacks become wilder, more
desperate. Defensively, the Hunter throws the Prey into the
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.