The Crow

 

 

 

 

The CROW

by

>Davis Schow

based on a screenplay by

John Shirley

< Based on the comic book created, drawn, and written by

James O'Barr

 

September 14, 1992

FADE IN:

 

EXT. CEMETERY - LATE

AFTERNOON

BOOM! A crack of lightning illuminates the silhouette of a

perched crow large in the f.g.

TIGHT ANGLE - FRESH GRAVE

As a spade

smooths the walls of a new double-decker plot.

DIMITRI (O.S.)

We're

losing the light; let's pack

it in.

ANGLE - DIMITRI AND ALEXI

TWO

GRAVEDIGGERS. Scoop digger parked f.g. towering gothic-

style church

b.g. Rolls of astro turf. They look up toward

the sky.

ALEXI

Snow,

maybe?

DIMITRI

What, you gonna ski on this?

He indicates the mound

of fresh dirt. Spits into the grave.

DIMITRI (CONT'D)

Come on, let's

bag this. It's

beer time.

Alexi nods and unfurls the tarp over the

dirt.

LOW ANGLE TRACKING SHOT - FLOWERS ON GRAVES

As we MOVE alongside

a pair of canvas-sided combat boots, as the

wearer collects the most

lively flowers from each grave in

sequence.

TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

 

Cemetery DEFOCUSED b.g. Large, glossy-black, the bird follows

the arc of

movement in the previous shot. Ruffles its feathers

as it begins to

sprinkle rain.

ANGLE - ELLY - RESUMING HER MOTION

A dirty-blondish

tenement KID of eleven, clad in a blend of cast-

offs and hand-me-downs;

her version of street punk chic. She

totes a skateboard under one arm

(itself a berserk Jackson

Pollock chaos of band stickers, silver marker

and graffiti, with

day-glo wheels), and transfers her impromptu bouquet

so she may

unzip a flap and hike up a ragged hood against the rain. She

stops to watch the grave diggers pack up and EXIT b.g.

ELLY

Guess the

picnic got rained out.

She looks down o.s. at --

ANGLE - SHELLY

WEBSTER'S GRAVE

as Elly places the gathered flowers down. Almost

reverent.

RESUME CROW ANGLE - ELLY B.G.

as Elly takes a single white

rose and places it atop the grave

near Shelly Webster's.

ANGLE ON GRAVE

- AS ELLY LEAVES

TILT UP from rose to the name: ERIC DRAVEN. Rain

spatters the

granite, darkening it.

EXTREME CLOSE-UP - CROW's EYE

It

blinks in its alien way.

WITH THE CROW

as it takes wing from it's

unseen perch. Lands stop Eric's

headstone. It pecks tentatively at the

top of the monument.

ANGLE - ELLY NEAR ERIC'S GRAVE

She hasn't gotten

too far before she notices the bird.

ELLY

Oh, scary.

The bird blinks

at her from the headstone.

ELLY

What are you, like, the night

watchman?

Another blink from El Birdo.

CAMERA WITH ELLY - BOOMING BACK

HIGH

as she exits the iron gates of the cemetery without looking

back.

Brutal building facades, like dead eyes, and bad

alleyways, like hungry

mouths, are gradually revealed as we

continue PULLING BACK to unveil that

the cemetery is smack in

the middle of the city.

 

EXT. MAXI-DOGS -

TWILIGHT - RAIN CONTINUES

CLOSE-UP of a foot-long hot dog being drowned

in mustard.

MICKEY (O.S.)

What this place needs is a good

natural

catastrophe. Earthquake,

tornado...

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND MICKEY

 

ALBRECHT is a black beat cop, 35, in a rain slicker.

MICKEY is the

grease-aproned entrepreneur of MAXI DOGS, a steamy

open-front fast

foodery.

ALBRECHT

You gotta put the mustard

underneath first.

MICKEY

Maybe a flood, like in the Bible.

ALBRECHT

Here, let me do

it.

He grabs the dog from Mickey. Mickey puffs his cigar while he

cooks. Albrecht methodically spreads a napkin and performs

surgery on

the hot dog, coating the bun with mustard, rolling

the dog in the bun.

Flashes Mickey a "gimme" look.

ALBRECHT

Come on... onion. Don't

cheap

out on me. Lotta onions.

MOVING ANGLE - AS ELLY SKATEBOARDS

TOWARDS MAXI DOGS

MICKEY

Heyyy -- it's the Elly monster.

ALBRECHT

How do you ride that thing on a

wet street?

ELLY

Talent. Hi.

ALBRECHT

Care for a hot dog?

ELLY

You buying?

ALBRECHT

I'm

buying.

Elly grabs the stool next to Albrecht. They`ve done this

routine before.

ELLY

No onions though, okay?

ALBRECHT

(horror)

No onions?

ELLY

They make you fart.

Mickey laughs. Spots

Elly a Coke.

MICKEY

What's goin' on, Elly?

ELLY

I went to see a

friend of mine.

MICKEY

Well, how's your friend?

ELLY

She's still

dead.

Albrecht and Mickey exchange a look re: Elly's matter-of-

factness.

 

EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (RAIN)

Thunder KABOOMS o.s. The crow

pecks the top of the stone again

and a chip of granite flies off, bang!

 

EXTREME CLOSE - THE HEADSTONE

as the crow pecks again and draws blood

from the rock.

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

A dot of blood on its ebony beak.

 

LOW ANGLE - HEADSTONE

A thin, watery trickle of blood wanders from the

top of the

stone towards the earth. Rain does not interfere. Lightning

plays in the rolling cloud cover, b.g.

RESUME THE CROW

as it takes off

from the gravestone, into the rain.

CLOSE-UP - THE BLOOD

It slowly

fills the name Eric Draven into the rock.

CLOSE-UP - FOOT TAPPER

A LOW

ANGLE like the SHOT introducing Elly's boot. This time

we see cowboy

boots, leather chaps. The foot taps. Waiting.

MEDIUM ANGLE - THE FOOT

TAPPER

as lightning strikes. Just enough for us to see a figure in a

long duster and a cowboy hat.

RESUME ERIC'S HEADSTONE

DRAVEN fills with

blood. Blood continues groundward.

NEW ANGLE - THE FOOT TAPPER

Turning

to meet FRAME as the crow alights on his outstretched

arm. This is the

SKULL COWBOY. We glimpse the deathshead,

beneath the brim of the cowboy

hat.

RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

as blood trickles into the turf at the base of

the grave.

TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

shaking off rain. Watching intently.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE SKULL COWBOY'S FREE HAND

Black gloved. It walks a flat

silver throwing knife across it's

knuckles, like a quarter somersaulting.

 

RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

The turf stirs beneath the white rose. Magically, a

slim white

parts the earth to grasp the rose.

SKULL COWBOY POV - ERIC's

GRAVE

as the figure of Eric Draven stands up from behind his own

headstone.

LOW ANGLE (FROM GRAVE) - ERIC

Pale. Clad in cerements:

cheap black burial suit, slit open in

back. WHite shirt. A nothing

tie. No shoes. Rain sluices mud

from his upturned face. He looks to

the sky. Lightning.

ANOTHER ANGLE - FOLLOW ERIC

as he weaves to lean

against a nearby tree. Looks o.s.

ERIC's POV - THE SKULL COWBOY

 

water-blurred, through the rain, standing with the crow perched

on his

arm like a hunting falcon. He releases it and it flies

to the tree.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

Watching this. Wipes mud from his eyes, tries to clear

vision.

The crow lights in the tree and they meet eye-to-eye. Eric

looks

back o.s. and we RACK to include the Skull Cowboy.

ERIC

What the hell

are you?

SKULL COWBOY

Interested? Follow the crow.

NB. The Skull

Cowboy speaks in nicely distorted, buzzlike

charnal house whisper.

Unsettling and hackle-raising.

Eric turns back to the bird, which takes

wing in the rain, His

eyes follow it. He looks back, disoriented,

doubtful, but the

Skull Cowboy is gone.

LOW DEEP ANGLE - THE CROW

 

Taking wing in the rain, showing the way.

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

alone in

the cemetery. After a moments hesitation, he lurches

off, following the

crow.

DISSOLVE TO:

 

EXT. ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT - TO

ESTABLISH:

A candy-flaked muscle T-bird is parked at the curb.

 

INT.

ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT

A MOVING SHOT during o.s. lines.

Past dead video and pinball

devices. Pasta desk with an open briefcase,

coffee cup,

ashtray -- someone was just there. Then past a WOMAN,

trussed

with duct tape to her office chair, gagged, hot fear in her

darting eyes.

COMPLETE CAMERA MOVE to include SKANK, a blade-thin speed

freak

with pattern baldness, always loud, jittery, a manic dust puppy.

And T-BIRD, an arrogant Arayan, brush-cut iron pumper, who is

prepping an

incendiary. He exhibits a small squeeze bottle of

arson cocktail to

Skank.

T-BIRD

Uncle T-Bird's 100-proof

accelerator. I squirt you

with

this, you could jump in the

Detroit river and burn all the way

to the bottom.

INSERT A CLOSE-UP of the bomb in his hands as he works.

Silver

canisters, an LED timer, wires.

T-BIRD (CONT'D)

You know, Lake

Erie actually

caught on fire once, from all the

crap in it. Wish I

coulda seen

that.

He CLICKS a switch. PEEP. LED countdown blurs.

T-BIRD (CONT'D)

We're ready to rock.

Skank notices the captive woman's

handbag on the floor. Picks

it up. Looks through it for valuables.

SKANK

What about working girl?

INTERCUT the woman's increasingly

horrified reactions.

T-BIRD

What about her?

SKANK

I say we leave

her here to fry,

man.

T-Bird looks casually at the woman. Smiles

hideously.

T-BIRD

No. Let's take her with us.

ANGLE - THE WOMAN

 

Her eyes bug in a terrified NO!

 

EXT. STREET - MOVING - NIGHT

As the

T-Bird fishtails wildly around the corner and eats street.

 

INT. T-BIRD

- TRAVELLING - NIGHT

TB drives. One eye on his digital watch (doing an

equally

fast countdown). Skank wrestles their captive, the woman, in

the

back seat.

TB

(pissed off)

Skank, shut her the fuck up!

SKank

punches her and she sags. Then he looks forward.

SKANK

Whoaaa --

T-Bird, red light, red

light!

 

EXT. STREET CORNER NEAR MAXI-DOGS -

NIGHT

As the T-Bird slews wide, cutting sidewalk, scattering

nightwalkers, immediately attracting everybody's attention.

ANGLE -

ALBRECHT - AT MAXI-DOGS

Reacting, with a mouthful.

ALBRECHT

Goddammit.

Mickey grabs the counter phone instantly.

MICKEY

Call it

in?

Albrecht is off and running for the corner already.

ALBRECHT

Yeah, do it!

(to Elly)

Stay right there!

HOLD ON MICKEY. He

points at Albrecht's hot dog. Yecch.

MICKEY

(yelling after)

You want I should save this for

you?

 

EXT. MOUTH OF ALLEY ACROSS FROM

CEMETERY - NIGHT

The car slides to a nose-down panic stop.

SKANK

(O.S.)

Dump her, man, dump her!

The woman comes tumbling from the car,

which blasts off with a

war hoop from the guys inside.

 

ANGLE - CORNER -

ON ALBRECHT

Gun out, hauling ass on wet pavement. Aims at the departing

car. Gives it up. Still too far away. Pedestrians in the way.

ANGLE -

THE WOMAN

 

hurting, cut, bleeding, tottering toward the dumpster. Duct

tape

stuck to her face but cut away around her mouth. With her as

she

falls into the alley darkness... straight into the arms of

CLOSE

TWO-SHOT - ERIC AND THE WOMAN

Their eyes lock. Eric stiffens with his

first FLASH.

NB: Eric's flashes of past memory are conditioned by the

nature

of things with which he makes physical contact. Hints and

fragments in fierce, super-saturated COLOR. Puzzle pieces he

must

assemble. Each flash keynoted by a BLOWBACK NOISE and

accompanied by a

degree of pain. It hurts to remember.

FLASH: INT. T-BIRD - WOMAN'S

STRUGGLE

The faces of Skank and T-Bird are murky, ephemeral, their

voices

hideous, distorted echoes. A knife snaps open. We see the

blade. Blood. Skank hits her, pow! and --

FLASH ENDS.

ANOTHER ANGLE

- ERIC AND WOMAN

An airborne crow POV spiralling up and away from them.

MATCH WITH:

ANGLE - THE CROW

perched on a fire escape, high above,

watching and waiting.

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AND WOMAN

She fades. He

lets her drop away, horrified. And staggers back

into the cover of the

alley. Her blood is on his hands.

ANGLE - ALBRECHT RUNNING

Skidding

in, spotting the woman. Kneeling to her.

ALBRECHT

Here now! You're

gonna be okay!

Can you understand me? I'm a

police officer...

The

woman is no longer in pain. Deathly calm now.

WOMAN

He touched me

and it stopped. The

pain.

ALBRECHT

What did you say?

 

WOMAN

I

saw a ghost...

Her eyes roll back and she dies in Albrecht's arms.

ALBRECHT

Oh no... don't go, darlin', you

stay with me, now... shit!

 

HIGH ANGLE CROW POV - THE ALLEY

BOOMING BACK from Albrecht, the woman,

onlookers, as police

units screech up to assist.

 

EXT. ALLEY BEHIND

ARCADES GAMES SUPPLY HOUSE - ON ERIC - NIGHT

Eric in lurching flight,

panting. Stops and steadies against

the wall across from the backside of

Arcade Games.

ANGLE - THE CROW (FLYING)

Circling, then lighting on the

fire escape above Eric.

BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES - ("CROWVISION")

 

"CROWVISION" is what the crow "gives" Eric to see. Visually

distinct

and immediately identifiable.

ERIC'S POV - BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES

 

Which he's already seen through the crow's eyes.

ANGLE - ERIC

looking

up at the crow. Disoriented. Doesn't understand.

Suddenly he cottons,

and covers his eyes just in time to shield

from:

ANGLE - BACK OF ARCADE

GAMES

The rear windows EXPLODING outward in a spray of fire and

debris.

 

ANGLE - WITH ERIC

he reels back, crashes into a dumpster. Falls.

ANGLE

- THE CROW

landing on the dumpsters edge near a pair of discarded combat

boots in the trash. Flames.

LOW ANGLE - ERIC

The blood from his hands

mars his burial shirt. He tears the

shirt away, leaving his tie absurdly

intact. Wipes his face

with his shirt. Discards it. Stops, held by his

discovery --

PUSH IN ON ERIC

as his fingers explore the five puckered

bullet punctures in his

chest. Almost a circle. Comically, he feels his

back foe exit

wounds. Then hauls himself upright, coming level with the

crow.

His glance at the bird is almost accusatory.

ANGLE - THe CROW

 

Inscrutable. We should get the idea that some silent

communication is

taking place.

ANGLE - ERIC'S FEET

bare, muddied, frozen. TILT to

Eric. His gaze moves from the

crow to the boots in the trash. He grabs

them, pushes them onto

his bare feet. His eyes catch the firelight.

Distant o.s.

SIRENS

ERIC

Fire. In the rain.

DISSOLVE TO:

 

INT.

CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

We are now within the neon techno-depths of Club

Trash. The BG

music is hard, savage, primal: a doom-laden Radio

Werewolf band

rules. Cabaret Blitzkrieg, packed with Death-to-Yup

trendazoids. We'll see more of this circus later. Right now

the BG

SOUND is our biggest clue to the flavor of this

establishment since we

are --

TIGHT CLOSE-UP A FRAMED 8X10

Thinly filmed in dust, mounted

among dozens of other band shots.

Visible among the posed members of a

group called Diabolique is

Eric, wielding guitar on the club stage. ND

BLUR as people

CROSS FRAME.

GRANGE, 45-50, powerful, a seasoned

assassin, cruel but loyal.

His facade remains stony as he leads three

other men briskly

down the corridor.: NGO NWA, 50ish, clad Chinese

gangster style

- white topcoat, white scarf, tinted shades - and two body

guards

supplying a power perimeter around him,lean, dark-haired Asian

killers who would gladly die for Ngo Nwa, which they will in

just a

minute.

They have just passed the Diabolique 8X10. Ngo Nwa's gloved

fingers, in passing, leave little skid tracks in the dust that

clear the

eyes of Eric in the photo.

As the foursome reaches the DOOR, Grange

turns doubtfully --

suspiciously -- to Nwa.

NGO NWA

He will see

me... unannounced.

ANOTHER ANGLE - THE DOOR

As Grange keys in the enter

code the door hisses open. Without

a word, Nwa passes inside and the

door is pulled shut in

Grange's face by the Bodyguards, who post

themselves to either

side.

 

INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

The

door CLOSES and the BG NOISE is GONE. Through a large window

(mirrored

on the club side) all sorts of activity is visible

through automatic

mini-blinds. A fly-vision bank of 12 TV

monitors is hot with

surveillance.

LAO, a painfully clean-cut, Armani-clad Asian, impeccable,

almost dashing, but the dynamic here is crystal clear: Nwa is

the King:

Lao, the dark prince in this hierarchy.

At the desk, Lao is startled

from his contemplation of a tiny,

perfect rat skeleton by Ngo Nwa's

unheralded entry. The desktop

is bare except for and Arcane Vietnamese

fighting knife, half a

meter long with an ideogrammed blade, dramatically

positioned

beneath an Artemide lamp. Lao rises and feigns servility.

 

NB: The following exchange will play FAST, and entirely in

VIETNAMESE.

LAO

(formal greeting)

NWA

(dismissiveness, contempt, then

chastizing anger as:)

Nwa INDICATES the blade with some ridicule.

LAO

(phony assuagement)

NWA

(knows it's bullshit)

Lao turns, staring out

the blinds, fighting for control. Deep

breath. He turns back to his

"master." Nwa gestures broadly at

the oppulent office, indicating that

Lao should be grateful, but

is somehow errant

NWA

(respect is

required)

LAO

(begrudging agreement)

Lao sees the blade. An idea.

He lifts it reverently, bears it

the Nwa hilt-first in both hands, as if

bestowing a thing of

immeasurable worth.

NGO NWA

(why give me this?)

 

Nonetheless, Nwa accepts the blade. It gleams. Hypnotic. Even

Nwa has

to admire it. Turns it so the blade is pointed at his

sternum. His

attitude indicates Lao is too far away to do

anything untoward.

LAO

(sinister punchline)

Lao spins through the air and HEEL-KICKS the blade

THROUGH Nwa's

chest, pinning him to the door. It's over so fast the gasp

of

astonishment never escapes Nwa. Lao is much more than merely

treacherous, he is extremely capable.

LAO

(in perfect English)

When I spoke of an offering, I

didn't mean an offering to you.

 

INT.

CORRIDOR - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)

Grange, standing out of arm's reach in the

corridor, kills both

Bodyguards with a double headshot as they turn in

greeting as the

door OPENS.

ANOTHER ANGLE - CORRIDOR - LAO, GRANGE, AND

CORPSES

Lao exchanges a look with his right arm; Grange nods

affirmatively.

GRANGE

You gonna smoke his bones now, or

however it

is you do it?

Lao smiles indulgently. He wipes the blood from the blade

on

the jacket of his ex-lord. Lao now bows to no one.

 

EXT. FIRE

ESCAPE - ANOTHER ALLEY - NIGHT

Eric, wearing the combat boots, climbs as

the crow leads him.

Up. He jams his hand on a rusty wedge of metal.

Ouch.

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

Blood flows from the gash. He vises his

fist shut.

ANGLE - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE

Eye-to-eye with the crow. Opens

his hand.

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

The blood flows back into the wound,

which closes itself,

leaving another scar.

ANGLE - ERIC

Vising the

rail. Speaks to the night. Almost a mantra.

ERIC

"My kitten walks

on velvet feet,

and makes no sound at all. And in

the doorway nightly

sits to watch

the darkness fall. I think

he loves the lady night..."

(to crow)

Am I alive? Am I dead? Something

else? Something in

between?

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

Inscrutable. No answer here.

RESUME ERIC

 

Almost bemused. Steadier. A hint of friendliness.

ERIC

Thanks for

sharing that.

 

ETC. GIDEON`S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

As the T-Bird grumbles

tp park curbside. Menacing.

 

INT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

A

junkyard of loot and dusty discards. Junkie thievings and

other people's

stereos. Behind a wire-meshed security counter

GIDEON reads a racing

form, chain-smoking throughout the scene. He

is pear-shaped, stubbled,

unkempt. Food on his shirt. JINGLE

of doorbells. Gideon lowers his

paper to reveal Skank and

T-Bird on approach.

 

GIDEON

Ahhh, jesus,

the creatures of the

night, here they come. Tweedledum

and

Tweedledummer.

Skank riles

SKANK

Hey, blow me, fat boy!

Just as

quick, Gideon cocks and levels a Magnum at Skank.

GIDEON

Blow

yourself, bigmouth.

T-BIRD

(interposing)

Whoa, hey, whoa.

(hands up)

Business.

He lifts a small carton onto the counter.

GIDEON

Whatcha got?

NEW ANGLE - COUNTER

Transaction time. T-Bird

passes items through the screen slot

and Gideon gives each one cursory,

doubtful inspection.

T-BIRD

Coupla more rings... 24k.

GIDEON

18k.

Crap.

T-BIRD

...necklace... pearls...

GIDEON

Nineteen bucks at

Sears. Fake,

T-BIRD

Leather purse...

He hands though the bag rested

from the woman.

GIDEON

What's this -- a little, ah,

bloodstain,

right?

(doesn't matter)

Fifty bucks for the box, and I'm

doin'

you a --

T-BIRD

Yeah, I know, fatso. Do us all a

favor. Make Top

Dollar smile.

SKANK

You wouldn't want Top Dollar not

to smile.

 

Mention of Top Dollar clams Gideon efficiently up. He hands

over the

cash to T-Bird with a grimace.

 

EXT. ROOFTOP - ON ERIC - NIGHT

Eric

stares upward at the crow as it drops like a bomber from

the night sky,

flying past him, skimming the roof, leading him

on. Eric exhales,

shrugs, feeling mocked by the bird.

ERIC

All right.

And he takes off

on a run. Only to stumble and fall. But the

falls turns into a TUMBLING

ROLL that lands Eric back on his feet

still moving. He looks back as if

to ask: "Did I do that?" and

runs out of the frame.

ANOTHER ANGLE -

PICKING UP ERIC ON THE RUN.

as he squints towards the crow and does his

best to keep up.

TRACK WITH HIM to the edge of the roof, heavily misted

in rain.

He jumps a negligible gap to the next lower roof. The next

roof-top is a one-story jump down. Eric clears the jump with a

WOOF of

air. Keeping his eyes on the flying crow; gaining

strength. His next

leap is more like a broad-jump. Athletic.

FAST MOVING ANGLE - THE CROW

 

keeping airborne, keeping ahead.

MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

Eyes confidently

on the sky as he arches out into space...

UP ANGLE FROM STREET -

BUILDINGS

As Eric is seen to jump across the gap at least three stories

up

where there is no connecting building.

CLOSE ANGLE - TARGET BUILDING

LEDGE

as Eric smashes into it, just missing, hinging at the waist,

grabbing for purchase, suddenly panicked, gravity pulling him

downward.

 

ANGLE - AT ERIC FROM PHONE CABLE BRACKET

Eric falls but manages to grab

the bracket one-handed. He hangs

for another deadly moment, then slowly,

to his own astonishment,

executes a one-handed pull-up that will save his

ass.

ERIC

Gotcha.

He completes the pull-up, bringing his chin level

with the

ledge. As he reaches for it with his other hand the bracket

rips from the wall and Eric plummets, with a howl of defeat.

UP ANGLE

FROM STREET - ERIC'S DOWNFALL

It's a looooooong way down.

ANGLE -

ALLEYWAY

as Eric lands and splits a trash can in two. A beat as we

wonder

if any bones are left unpulped. PUSH IN as Eric rolls from

facedown to his back.

TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S FACE

as he completes the

roll, gasping, amazed he's still in one

piece.

ANGLE - TRASHCAN - ON

THE CROW

It flies easily down to inspect Eric as he slowly sits up,

examining his hands. Frustrated and pissed off.

ERIC

Thanks.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

Not "your welcome", but other-worldly patience. It

waits.

RESUME ERIC

ERIC (CONT'D)

Where're we going next -- the

sewer?

 

EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT

Still, dark silence until Eric lands from

ABOVE FRAME, feline.

The crow lands simultaneously b.g., perched near a

roof access

door with a shaded, dim-yellow bulb.

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

It

just blinks at him.

 

INT. ABANDONED STAIRWELL - NIGHT

as Eric yanks

open the rusty rooftop door from the outside and

sweeps down the steps in

a swirl of night mist

ANGLE - FOOT OF STAIRS

Trash and detritus all

around, clogging the arteries of the

building, which is old, unoccupied,

forsaken. The crow lights

on a scarred banister knob. Eric's footsteps

come down into frame.

ANGLE ON LOFT DOOR - INCLUDE ERIC

A year ago this

door was sealed with police barricade tape...

which now sags, faded.

A

sticker across the jam notifies potential trespassers that

this is -- was

-- a crime scene. Eric slows, stops, his hand

on the banister.

ANGLE -

THE CROW

as is wafts ahead of Eric, arriving at the door first.

ANGLE

ON ERIC, THE DOOR, THE CROW

Eric has had enough.

ERIC

Are we

finished yet?

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND ON BANISTER

sliding along, as he

speaks, until it hits a cigarette burn.

PUSH IN ON ERIC - TIGHT

 

stiffening as he suffers his second --

FLASH: IMAGES and DIALOG are not

linked. A rapidfire MONTAGE set

in the loft, a year earlier (it is

decorated for Halloween).

The broken door. The stairwell is filled with

cops and cop

noise; lab guys bustle. Albrecht is there, making notes as

a

DETECTIVE steps over to him.

ALBRECHT

Victim's name is Shelly

Webster.

The guy who got tossed is, uh ...--

(checks his notebook)

 

Albrecht grinds out his smoke on the banister.

FLASH ENDS.

RESUME

ERIC ON THE STAIRS.

He sits down hard, hurting from the flash. His eyes

seek the

crow. He completes Albrecht's line:

ERIC

"Draven, Eric."

 

 

EXT. THE PIT - NIGHT

LOW DOLLY of Elly's little combat boots moving

toward the

entryway of the pit. MUSIC gradually UP LOUDER O.s. as she

nears.

ANGLE - ELLY IN DOORWAY

Luridly-lit. A grown-up's place. A

burly BOUNCER appraises

her, his tone jokey. He knows Elly.

BOUNCER

Hey! You got any ID?

ELLY

Very funny. Ha. Ha. Oh my,

sides.

The

Bouncer jerks a thumb. Go on in.

 

INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

A grungy

sawdust-floored shot-and-beer joint packed tight

with urban BURNOUTS

rushing to drink their lives away. Hammering

MUSIC and rude whorehouse

lighting. Each predator straining to

be badder than the next.

TRACK

THROUGH this maze at Elly's eye level until we reach

DARLA, waitressing

her heart out, the drug mileage on her

obvious.

ELLY

Mom --?

DARLA

I told you you're not supposed

to come in here.

ELLY

(a

quick lie)

I lost my key.

Disgustedly -- goddamn kids -- Darla fishes

up a key and slaps

it into Elly's hand.

FUNBOY (O.S.)

Hey, Darla --

before we die of old

age, how about it --?

DARLA

(to Elly)

Out. Now. I gotta work.

RACK PAST Darla and MOVE IN CLOSE on a corner

table -- where sit

Funboy, Skank, T-Bird and a black, vested muscle

gypsy, TIN-TIN.

 

INT. LOFT - NIGHT

As Eric shoves the door open from

the outside. The lock, popped

from the frame, spins on the wooden floor.

The barrier tape

whisps and dust roils. Dark, chilly, damp. A rat's

nest of

disuse.

PULL BACK THROUGH THE BROKEN PICTURE WINDOW

as Eric

enters. Glass blown out. Shards poking. Jagged.

NEW ANGLE - AS ERIC

WALKS IN

He scans the loft. Sees reflecting golden eyes near the floor.

 

ERIC'S POV - FLOOR NEAR WINDOW

A white, long-haired cat walks into a

pool of night light.

ANGLE - ERIC AND THE CAT

He kneels. Extends his

hand. The cat nears; likes Eric.

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND.

as the cat

makes contact. Sudden white jolt - a FLASH.

FLASH: we HEAR Eric

strumming his Strat o.s. We see what he

saw: Shelly, holding the cat.

FLASH ENDS.

UP ANGLE - ERIC

Wincing. Recovering from the flash. He

purposefully gathers

the cat into his arms and braces for more, harder,

stronger...

FLASH: A MAN and a WOMAN make love on a big bed amidst a

hundred

points of candlelight. Shelly and Eric, once upon a time.

FLASH ENDS.

 

REVERSE ANGLE FROM BEDROOM DOOR - ON ERIC

as the cat,

dropped, hits the floor and scrambles out of the way.

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

 

vising his head, teary-eyed, his nose bleeding.

ERIC

No! Don't look!

No! No!

He whirls unexpectedly and punches his fist completely through

the masonry wall.

FLASH: Eric and Shelly in a mock waltz. He spins her

and they

collapse on the bed.

FLASH ENDS.

ANGLE - ERIC

slowly

pulling his arm out of the wall.

ERIC

(whispering)

Stop it.

 

His eyes roll up and he slumps the length of the door frame like

a

drowning man.

ANGLE - GABRIEL

watching Eric. He hits with an o.s.

THUD.

 

INT. THE PIT - ON FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

As a gloved hand sets

up four bullets next to four shots.

FUNBOY (O.S.)

Let's have some

fun.

Funboy pops the bullet, like a contact capsule and washes it down.

T-Bird turns to Tin-Tin, the new guy.

T-BIRD

You first.

TIN-TIN

You're outta your fuckin' mind.

Into it, almost jazzed, Tin-Tin downs

his bullet and shot, and

T-Bird does likewise. Points to Skank.

T-BIRD

No. I'm not the lunatic. He is.

Skank riles, pulls a huge Auto

Mag and sticks it in T-Bird's

face, cocking.

SKANK

Fuck you, T-Bird.

 

Just as lightning fast, T-Bird has his own gun out and jammed

right under

Skank's jawbone. He makes a kissy face.

T-BIRD

I love you too, you

madman.

They all crack up laughing like ax murderers. Skank drinks,

Tin-Tin spot checks the satchell from Top Dollar's. Darla

delivers more

shots and funboy feels her ass.

FUNBOY

Hey, pussycat.

 

INT. LOFT -

DOWN ANGLE (CROW POV) - ERIC ON FLOOR

He's awake. Pushes himself up.

 

REVERSE ANGLE - THE CROW

Is perched in a dead light fixture, monitoring

Eric.

ANGLE - ERIC ON FLOOR

He's awake. Pushes himself up. Realizes

he is in the center of a

faint chalk outline on the hardwood floor. He

reaches to touch

the dark stain of old blood.

FLASH: Shelly spills into

frame, mouth bloodied. T-Bird

instantly on top of her, rough.

FLASH

ENDS.

ANGLE - WITH ERIC

as he abandons the outline and staggers to the

window... where

he cuts open his hand on jags of glass.

FLASH: Eric

held firm in the grasp of T-Bird and Funboy, one

arm each. Five bloody

bullet holes in Eric's chest.

The thugs 1-2-3 and hurl Eric backwards

through the window,

which shatters.

FLASH ENDS.

ANGLE - ERIC AT THE

WINDOW

Reeling backward, same trajectory as in the Flash, but toward

the

floor, in SLO-MO. Overloaded. Blacking out.

AS ERIC FALLS - INTERCUT

MONTAGE

A jumble of good/bad images from the loft: Tin-Tin embedding a

page of paper in the loft wall with a throwing knife...

Shelly's face as

she lights a candle... a POPPING champagne

cork... the echoing CANNONADE

of the shots that killed Eric...

Skank backhanding Shelly... Shelly

blowing bubbles from a

clawfoot tub full of suds... Eric catching

Funboy's first slug

high in the chest... NEW ANGLE of the glass in the

window

blowing out as T-Bird and Funboy through Eric through...

ANGLE -

ERIC'S REAL TIME FALL

He plummets to BLACK OUT FRAME. THUMP. Out cold.

 

 

INT. PIT - RESUMING FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

Funboy contemplates his drink

as the previous scene reverbs.

FUNBOY

More fun than a torture

chamber.

Tin-Tin's pocket pager goes BEEP and startles them all. Skank

nearly shoots it, jumpy. Tin-Tin pulls back on a black leather

trenchcoat after clicking off the pager.

TIN-TIN

I hate this goddamn

thing...

ANGLE - DARLA watching them from a distance as Tin exits.

 

 

INT. LOFT - FLOOR LEVEL - NIGHT

An enormous cockroach trundles past,

large in FRAME. RACK to

show Eric lying on floor b.g. as his eyes pop

open. A flurry of

dark motion as the crow flies past frame.

ANGLE --

THE CROW -- Having snatched the bug in it's beak. Eats

it.

ANGLE - ERIC

 

rising from the floor. Careful. Stealthy. Watches his fireplace.

ERIC

We have company.

ANGLE ON FIREPLACE

Huge. Marble. COld. Eric's

paper mache masks of Comedy and

Tragedy still hang there. The Skull

Cowboy steps out of the

dark and into the vague blue light. Shadowy as

ever.

SKULL COWBOY

Having fun yet? No?

(beat)

I'll give you a

hint. Remember

whatshername?

ERIC

Shelly?

SKULL COWBOY

Miss

her?

ERIC

Yes.

SKULL COWBOY

Kill the men who killed you both,

and the Day of the Dead will be

your reunion.

The Skull Cowboy

prestidigitates a flat throwing knife(like Tin-

Tin's). Eric's gaze

follow it closely.

SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)

You must use your eyes.

He

points to the crow.

ANGLE - THE COMING KNIFE - ("CROWVISION")

Weirdly

distorted, a shared vision between Eric and the crow.

TIGHT ON ERIC

As

he DUCKS out of the path of the knife he sees through the

bird's eyes.

He rolls.

ON THE CROW

It hops out of the way as the knife embeds in the

wall. Eric's

ROLL finishes him up nearby.

ERIC

Goddammit.

He grabs

for the knife as if to use it on the Skull Cowboy, but

the knife causes

an unexpected painful FLASH.

FLASH: Eric bouncing off the bedroom

doorframe, Tin-Tin's knife

stuck in his shoulder.

FLASH ENDS.

RESUME

ERIC

vising his head with his hands, in pain. Too much pain.

SKULL

COWBOY

Get it?

ERIC

Leave me alone -- !

He looks up, the Skull

Cowboy is still there.

SKULL COWBOY

(contempt)

Do something

about it.

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND THE SKULL COWBOY.

A horrible beat

between them. The Eric runs full tilt across

the room, bounding to the

open window and then leaping.

ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY

as close to surprise

as he gets. Steps out to watch as --

ANGLE ON WINDOW - ERIC

FLIES feet

first out into space.

CLOSE-UP - BRICKWORK ABOVE WINDOWFRAME

Eric's

fingers smash into grip the tiny mortared gaps!

EXT. LOFT BUILDING - UP

ANGLE FROM STREET - NIGHT

High above, Eric's feet shoot out the window,

knocking loose

stray shards that fall toward frame. He swings into an

upside-

down pose, impossibly holding himself rigid against the

building's side, face down. by his quarter-inch finger grip.

CLOSE-UP -

ERIC

Every muscle rigid, quivering with tension. Hold. Then he

relaxes, and swings back inside.

 

INT. LOFT - AT WINDOW, PICKING UP ERIC

- NIGHT

He arches, flips, to land on his feet. The Skull Cowboy is

gone. No knife either. The crow watches. O.S. "meow".

ANGLE - WITH

ERIC AS HE TURNS TO SEE THE CAT

ERIC

I guess I'm not ready to

leave...

just yet.

He picks up the cat -- wary of flashes, which don't

come this

time -- and returns to the window. Feeling safer.

ERIC

(CONT'D)

The last time we saw each other,

I didn't do so well.

(holds cat up)

Huh, Gabriel?

He moves to the fireplace. With his free

hand, lifts the

Tragedy mask off its hook. Puzzles it, fact-to-mask.

 

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

I bet you need some cat food...

right?

 

EXT. STREET -

NIGHT -ESTABLISHING:

Eric walking, the Tragedy mask hanging from his

hip. An

occasional PEDESTRIAN passes without comment, brutalized

by the

city. Eric, more confident, smells the night's bouquet.

 

EXT. ALLEY -

NIGHT ("CROWVISION")

Two men around a trashcan fire. We should

recognize Tin-Tin by

his black leather trench coat. A wonderfully rude

Rap tune, "Got

a White WOman Tied Up In My Closet, Gonna Jab Her With A

Stick,"

RAZZLES b.g.

 

 

 

EXT. STREET - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

As Eric

reacts to what the crow has just seen. Slows. Stops.

And directs his

attention toward the mouth of the alley.

 

EXT. ALLEY - TIGHT ON TIN-TIN

- NIGHT

He pulls the nickel plated revolver from the satchel. FOLLOW as

he hands it across to RATSO, who removes the suitcase-sized boom

box

(the source of the music) from his shoulder to accept.

Ratso is a feral

skull-head; street trash.

TIN-TIN

Three hundred and your a

gunslinger.

HIGH ANGLE - TIN-TIN and RATSO

As the crow is still

watching, yet perched. A brief

shove-and-standoff. The gun deal has

gone bad.

RATSO

Please, TIn-Tin, you know I'm good

for the money,

man, I promise,

Leslie put me up to it, please,

man, don't --

(choking scream)

Tin-Tin has just up-rammed a throwing knife into Ratso.

TIN-TIN

Ratty -- shut the fuck up.

 

Tin-Tin lifts Ratso on the knife,

gutting him. Ratso goes

slack, deader'n hell. Tin-Tin reaches around to

click OFF

the boom box... then let's Ratso`s corpse fall.

ERIC (O.S.)

Another satisfied customer?

TIGHT ANGLE - TIN-TIN

galvanized by the

surprise voice. He automatically draw a

fresh knife from the bandolero

of knives across his chest inside

the coat. Can't yet track the source

of the voice.

TIN-TIN

Who the hell is that?

(beat, venomous)

Come on out man, I won't hurt

you.

ANGLE - ERIC IN ALLEY

He steps out

from behind another flaming trashcan. Wearing a

long black scarf and

the Tragedy mask.

ERIC

Hello, Tin-Tin.

ANGLE ON TIN-TIN - AS HE

RISES (FROM RATSO)

trying to process what he sees. And cover. And buy

time.

TIN-TIN

Little early from trick-or-treat,

homie.

(re:

Ratso)

This dick trying to bushwack me.

ERIC

Murderer.

Tin-Tin

blows out a breath. No bluff. Time to kill again.

TIN-TIN

Guess you

got that goddamn right.

He shrugs. The shrug becomes the launch of a

knife.

TIGHT SHOT - MOVING - ERIC

His black-gloved hand slaps away the

incoming knife and inch from

his nose. It CLATTERS. Eric continues

striding toward Tin-TIn.

ERIC

Try harder. Try again.

 

SHIFTING

ANGLE - ERIC NEARS TIN-TIN

as Tin-TIn throws another knife. Eric

closing in. He claps

hand together, immobilizing the next knife. Opens

his hands,

almost an "oops" gesture. Keeps on coming.

ANGLE - ERIC AND

TIN-TIN

As they meet. Tin-Tin attempts a roundhouse. Eric blocks it

and smashes Tin-Tin into the alley wall.

ERIC

A year ago. Halloween.

A man

and a woman. In a loft. You

helped to murder them.

TIN-TIN

Last Halloween, eh? Yeah...

(beat)

Yeah, I remember. I fucked

her

too, I think.

ERIC

You cut her. You raped her.

(rage)

You watched!

TIN-TIN

Hey, I got my rocks off, so

fuck you in the

ass, man.

They're face-to-face now, sweaty and tense. Eric peels off

the Tragedy mask.

ERIC

I want you to tell me a story, Tin-Tin.

TIN-TIN

I don't know you...

But, as Eric bears down on Tin-TIn, Tin

begins to recognize him.

Fear. Sweat.

For the first time, Tin-Tin

starts to loose control.

TIN-TIN (CONT'D)

Holy shit... you're dead,

man...

EXTREME CLOSE-UP - ERIC

ERIC

Victims. Aren't we all.

 

INT.

LOFT - NIGHT

TIGHT ANGLE - TABLETOP

as Eric's hands place Ratso's boom

box on the table and click on

suitable weird b.g. MUSIC.

ANGLE - FLOOR

LEVEL

Eric's boots pass frame. An open can of cat food CLANKS down

big

in f.g. as Eric walks b.g. obviously wearing Tin-Tin's

trenchcoat.

Gabriel noses into to frame to eat from the can.

 

INT. LOFT, BEDROOM -

NIGHT (LATER)

Shelly's vanity. Dusty, disused. The mirror spiderwebbed

with

cracks but still hanging precariously in its frame. Eric is

seated, his image crazily split into many. He pulls on a long-

sleeved,

tight-knit, black shirt.

WIDEN ANGLE to reveal the loft now lit with

dozens of candle

stubs. Placed all around. Ceremonial and weird.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

ERIC

Halloween is coming. The Day of the Dead...

In

the mirror, multi Eric's. He touches the glass, tightening up

as he

realizes he's in for another --

FLASH: Shelly, sleeping on her divan, a

year ago, wakes as Eric

(O.S.) says "Boo". She cracks an eye open.

SHELLY

Your scary quotient needs work.

FLASH ENDS.

ANOTHER ANGLE -

ERIC AT VANITY

Considering old cosmetics. Everything he touches will

hurt him.

But he's ready to eat this pain. He grabs a lipstick.

FLASH:

Shelly at the vanity in happier times

SHELLY

I think red's my color,

don't you?

FLASH ENDS.

RESUME ERIC

wincing. He drops the lipstick

on the floor. Grabs a

hairbrush.

FLASH: Eric smashes into the street

after his death-fall,

trailing broken glass.

FLASH ENDS.

NEW ANGLE -

ERIC AT VANITY

Later. He's wearing white pancake makeup on his cheeks.

Shaky.

FLASH: Eric sucks up Funboy's gunshots in the chest. 1-2-3-4.

FLASH ENDS.

RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY

his face a crazy warpaint maze of

white streaks, not blended

yet. He looks at his own reflection. In one

cracked,

triangular facet of the mirror is not a multiple of his face,

but the Skull Cowboy. Just one.

SKULL COWBOY

Glad to see you're

finally with

the program.

ERIC

Bugger off to the graveyard, skull-

face, I'm busy.

SKULL COWBOY

You work for the dead. Forget

that,

and you can forget it all.

The Cowboy tips his hat and isn't there.

Eric sees the crow

perched on the edge of the mirror now.

ERIC

Forget

this.

He smears the streaks until his face is uniformly grave-wave

white.

ANGLE - GABRIEL THE CAT

coming in to sniff around the clutter at

the foot of the vanity.

Eric looks down towards him... and toward the

lipstick he dropped.

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND

as it glides down to pick

up the lipstick. CONTACT, and --

FLASH: Eric, smashed on the street,

T-Bird's car b.g., upside down

in Eric's POV as he rolls over and blood

courses from both

corners of his mouth, a definite foreshadow of the

"Crow" face.

FLASH ENDS.

RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY - TIGHT

ERIC

She

always red red was her color.

EXTREME CLOSE - THE MIRROR

We see only a

reflected corner of Eric's mouth as he duplicates

the blood trail in red

lipstick, making one one half of a crow

harlequin smile.

 

 

EXT. LOFT

BUILDING - LATER - NIGHT

A MEDIUM SHOT as lightning strikes; a storm

brews.

 

 

 

EXT. LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S BOOTS

crossing

the floor. Tin-Tin's knife slotted to the bucklework.

CLOSE-UP - VANITY

 

Eric's hands discard a hairbrush there. He moves off.

CLOSE-UP -

GABRIEL

looking up o.s., watching his master stalk around with purpose.

Thunder rumbles long o.s.

ANGLE - AT ERIC IN WINDOW FROM OUTSIDE

The

storm boils. Eric framed in broken window.

CLOSER ANGLE - ERIC IN

WINDOW

Eric all in black, Firm-wrapped. Tight-wired. The trenchcoat

flutters, cloak-like. His shadowy face framed by the upturned

collar,

his hair punkish and spiky.

SIDE ANGLE - ERIC

as he moves forward in

the light. The crow lights on his shoulder.

ERIC

All right, bad

guys...

FRONT VIEW - ERIC

Full crow regalia. Face makeup streamlined.

Eric's eyes flash.

 

ERIC

(in drawn out yell)

Here I commme -- !

 

PULL BACK swiftly, vertiginously, as Eric swan dives from the

window, his

voice a howl.

UP ANGLE FROM STREET - ERIC'S FALL

Coat, wing-like.

MATCH his dive yell with o.s. crow SCREECH.

SLOW MOTION as Eric fills the

frame and we --

DISSOLVE TO:

 

EXT. ALLEY - WHERE TIN-TIN GOT IT -

NIGHT

Cop lights bounce, competing with the trash fires. Albrecht and

several other UNIFORMS assess the double-death scene. A

detective,

TORRES tries to appear in charge.

TORRES

Couldn't have happened to a

nicer

couple.

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND TORRES OVER DEAD TIN-TIN

Tin-Tin

frozen in deathshock, all of his knives sticking out of

him. Dead

Ratso, b.g., where he fell.

ALBRECHT

Sure it coulda. Funboy's not

here, neither is T-Bird -- none

of Top Dollar's number ones.

TORRES

You know, you sure got a hard-on for

a guy that's guilty of zip on

paper. Top Dollar runs Showtime;

what's the matter, don't you like

adult entertainment?

ALBRECHT

This sack of shit is called Tin-

Tin.

TORRES

Don't any of your little pals have

real, grown up names?

ALBRECHT

He was a runner for Top Dollar.

Just muscle.

TORRES

Was.

ALBRECHT

(sigh)

This isn't Top Dollar's style

anyway. This was

somebody else.

Somebody new.

Albrecht lights a fresh smoke. Torres

waves the smoke away.

TORRES

And you're gonna tell me who.

ALBRECHT

Who ever made that.

Albrecht points. CAMERA FOLLOWS to wall

behind Tin-Tin. A crow

silhouette has been daubed in blood there, now

dry.

TORRES

What in the hell... do you

call that?

ALBRECHT

I

call it blood, Detective. If

you want, you can call it graffiti.

INT.

GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

CLOSE-UP of Gideon's thick fingers shuffling

grimy currency.

Some scratchy 1920's TUNE plays throughout b.g., like a

broadcast

from another time and place.

TIGHTER ANGLE - GIDEON

looking

up at a metallic SOUND, o.s. Irritated.

GIDEON

Piss off, we're

closed.

As the outside security gate rattles, Gideon draws his magnum

and approaches the front door.

GIDEON

Fucking creatures of the night;

they never goddamn learn.

Sudden surprise as he sees the silhouette of

the gate SCREE back

against the frosted glass of the front door.

GIDEON (CONT'D)

HEY!!

And he hustles to close up the distance between

himself and the

door, gun up. Before he can touch the door, the crowbar

comes

rocketing through the glass, pegging Gideon in the forehead and

knocking him flat on his ass. He loses the pistol.

Eric walks through

the door, causing the fractured glass to

disintegrate around him. He

disclaims, thespian.

ERIC

"Suddenly I heard a tapping, as of

someone

gently rapping, rapping at

my chamber door."

(pause)

You heard me

rapping, right?

LOW ANGLE - GIDEON ON THE FLOOR

reacting to Eric's

weird appearance and looking for his gun.

GIDEON

Oh, bullshit!

You're trespassing

asshole, you're breakin'

and enterin' and you just

bought me a

fucking door!

During Gideon's rant, Eric brushes glass

cubes from his

shoulders, nonplussed. Now he flings Gideon across the

room.

Gideon crashes into the counter cage. As Eric advances on him:

ERIC

I'm looking for something in an

engagement ring. Gold.

As Eric

comes up behind him, Gideon reaches through the open

cage door and pulls

a big combat knife from beneath the counter.

GIDEON

You're looking

for a coroner,shit-

for-brains!

And he tries to nail Eric with the

knife.

NEW ANGLE - BEHIND GIDEON - AS GIDEON SWINGS

No Eric behind him.

TILT to reveal Eric hanging off the cage

above Gideon. Eric slams the

cage door against Gideon's head.

Drops down like a spider and collects

the knife.

ERIC

I repeat: a gold engagement ring.

It was pawned

here, a year ago, by

another gentleman whose name, I

believe was...

"T-Bird"?

IN TIGHT ON ERIC AND GIDEON

Eric twists Gideon's sail-like

shirt and Gideon turns bright red.

ERIC (CONT'D)

Cute nickname, don't

you think?

GIDEON

(gasping)

I ain't got no fuckin' ring.

ERIC

Wrong answer.

Eric nails Gideon's hand to the counter top. Gideon

howls!

GIDEON

All's I got is in a box! Behind

the counter!

Eric

jumps through the cage door. Gideon's eyes bug as he sees

his own

pierced hand, immobilized.

ANGLE - ON ERIC BEHIND THE COUNTER

scans the

shelves. Rows of boxed ammo. Kerosene tins. A shotgun.

Knives and

assorted knuckle duster curios. And the ring box.

CLOSE-UP - THE RING

BOX IN ERIC'S HAND.

Dozens of gold rings. Eric's fingers sift through

them.

TIGHTER ON ERIC

He brings each ring to his face. INTERCUT with

Gideon's feeble

struggles and invective, o.s.

ERIC

No... no... no...

no...

He tosses each rejected ring over his shoulder. Until:

CLOSE-UP

- THE RING IN ERIC'S HAND

Obliterated by a stab of brilliant white light

--

FLASH: Shelly's face. A perfect vision...

FLASH ENDS.

RESUMING

ERIC

He closes his fist tightly around the ring. A moment of

decision.

Then he draws the shotgun from beneath the counter.

Uses the butt to

knock the knife free of Gideon's hand. It goes

spinning across the

countertop. Eric shucks the shotgun and

rams it into Gideon's nose as

the big man slumps to the floor.

ERIC

Tin-Tin confided in me, before

he

ran out of breath. You have one

chance to live.

GIDEON

No

fucking way. He'll kill me.

ERIC

Who would waste time killing you...

besides me?

Gideon sweats, pants, contemplates the hole in his hand.

GIDEON

(cowed)

Top Dollar.

ERIC

Another jolly nickname?

GIDEON

You want those assholes, you want

Top Dollar.

ERIC

T-Bird?

GIDEON

Like the car. He hangs out with

Skank. that little ass-hair,

and

they hang at the Pit -- hell,

Funboy lives there. Ask Top

Dollar.

ERIC

A whole club of pirates, with

pirate names...

 

Eric seems to go

berserk, SMASHING and PUNCTURING cans of

flammables and powder while

Gideon flinches, nursing his holed

hand. Blows just miss Gideon's head.

Soon he's cowering.

LOW ANGLE - ERIC

Looking down at Gideon in

revulsion.

ERIC

You feed off the living.

SMASH! as another tin

ceases to exist next to Gideon. Then

Eric is gone, past him without

further word, ignoring him

entirely. As he exits, shotgun shouldered, he

pauses to admire

a white Fender Strat hanging among the pawnables. He

reaches

for it.

ON GIDEON

As he summons some last minute budget

bravery.

GIDEON

You walk outta here Top Dollar

will erase your ass!

Top Dollar

owns the fucking street here and

you can't dick with me, you

son of

a bitch!

RESUME ERIC - FRAMED IN DOORWAY

The guitar now

bowslung across his back, the shotgun levelled at

Gideon's position.

ERIC

One chance to live. Take it.

MOVE IN TIGHT ON GIDEON

as he

realizes what Eric means. Hauls ass and bangs through the

rear door with

a bleat of terror.

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC IN DOOR

as he cuts loose

with the shotgun.

 

EXT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

 

as seen from across

the street. Eric silhouetted, unmoving as

the whole store front blows

hellaciously out around him, raining

glass and debris. Stirring his

hair. Eric is the black eye of

the fireball.

LOW ANGLE - FRONT OF PAWN

SHOP - EMPHASIZE ERIC

lit by flames and residual explosions. He hurls

the shotgun

into the inferno. Casually brushes flaming/smoking detritus

from his own clothes.

ALBRECHT (O.S.)

Don't move! I said don't move.

 

NEW ANGLE - ERIC

as he turns slowly, to see Albrecht, out of reach, gun

drawn.

Eric's attitude lightens; Albrecht is not the threat here.

ERIC

I thought the police always said

"freeze:.

Albrecht divides his

attention, jumpy, between the odd sight of

Eric (guitar on his back), and

the raging instant inferno of

Gideon's.

 

ALBRECHT

I'm the police and

I say don't

move, Snow White. You're under

arrest; I don't care what

else is

wrong with you! You move and

you're dead.

Eric has begun to

pace towards Albrecht. Palms up. A gesture of

submission. Albrecht's

battle calm begins to waiver.

ERIC

And I say I'm dead... and I move.

ALBRECHT

No further. I'm serious.

Eric bows, bringing his forehead in

line with the gun's muzzle.

ERIC

Then shoot, if you will.

TIGHT

ANGLE - ALBRECHT

He gives it up. Can't shoot. This is too weird for

him.

ALBRECHT

Are you nuts, walking into a gun?

NEW ANGLE - LESS

THREATENING - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

ERIC

You must listen carefully: the

Fire Department will be here soon.

There is an injured man in the

alley who needs assistance.

(meaningfully)

As Shelly Webster once

needed your

assistance, and as you are shortly

going to need my

assistance.

Albrecht gestures casually, almost comically, with his

pointed

gun. B.g., the crow lands on a fire escape to monitor them.

ALBRECHT

You wanna run that back for me one

time?

SIRENS near, o.s.

Eric listens to them, to the night.

ERIC

Listen: Top Dollar. He

"owns the

street here." He will "erase

my ass."

ALBRECHT

You don't

say.

ERIC

I know Top Dollar has turned your

streets into his hell.

ALBRECHT

Fucking A, my friend.

ERIC

The others are called Skank, T-

Bird. Street names. Funboy.

(beat)

Watch me, office Albrecht.

 

Eric lifts a chunk of glass from the sidewalk. Slow and easy.

Albrecht

doesn't completely trust him. Up comes the gun.

ALBRECHT

Watch it...

 

Eric slices open his palm. Blood flows. To his fingertips.

NEW ANGLE -

ERIC AND ALBRECHT

as Eric quickly daubs a crow silhouette in blood on

the wall...

then exhibits the gashed hand to Albrecht.

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S

HAND

as the blood retreats and the wound seals itself up.

TIGHT ON

ALBRECHT

and the silhouette. Mouth hangs.

ALBRECHT

You're the one

who did Tin-Tin...

PULL BACK FAST to reveal Eric is gone from the frame.

Albrecht does

a quick 180. No Eric. Flashbars from incoming units begin

to bounce red and blue off his face.

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Great. Good

night. Guy shows up

looking like a mime from hell.

(beat)

Least

he didn't do that "walking

against the wind" shit; I hate

that.

 

EXT.

SHOWTIME - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH.

A night-owl pornucopia. T-Bird enters

beneath a garish theater

marquee. The 2-bill: RUMP ROMP with

BUTTBUSTERS II.

INT. SHOWTIME LOBBY - NIGHT

T-Bird approaches the snack

bar. Wet, breathy mating NOISES

from the auditorium throughout, o.s.

Looking supremely bored,

the counterman, DICKEY BIRD, thumbs a porn

tabloid. So what.

DICKEY BIRD

T-Bird. Thrill me.

T-BIRD

Business.

T-bird heads left through s steal door that Dickie buzzes

open

for him.

 

INT. SHOWTIME AUDITORIUM (BACKSTAGE) - NIGHT

T-Bird walks

past dust-covered boxy black speakers as we glimpse

Lance and Angelique

making history in reverse, on the back of the

movie screen: oratoria as

good as porn films can make it.

PORN QUEEN (O.S.)

I don't know how to

describe how

I feel, Lance -- so restless --

PORN KING (O.S.)

You're

my Moon Queen, Angelique.

PORN QUEEN (o.S.)

Oooh -- I want you're

rocket right

now in my Sea of Tranquility --

Lance --

ANGLE - CATWALK

STAIRS

As T-Bird approaches, the movie sounds dwindle o.s. He ascends

the skinny metal stairway two steps at a time.

ANGLE - STEEL FACED DOOR

AT TOP OF STAIRS.

As T-Bird nears it, a viewplate SNAPS open to asses

him. By

the time he reaches the top, the door unbolts to admit him.

 

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

As T-Bird enters. The room is organized

around a long meeting

table and flavored with a taste of everything

illegal: drug

paraphernalia, weapons.

Across the table are a couple of

Sentries like the one that

admits T-Bird to the room. TRACK PAST them to

a lank-haired

silhouette as he turns away from a windowshade, backlit by

Showtime's exterior neon.

This is TOP DOLLAR. Who looks like a Johnny

Winter acid

casualty but is deadly cold, definitely the man in charge.

TOP DOLLAR

Wild fucking night. I hear our

pal Tin-Tin got himself very

dead.

T-BIRD

And Gideon's just burned all the

down to the

foundation.

Top's eyebrows go up. Oh really?

T-BIRD (CONT'D)

I

didn't have nothin to do with

that.

TOP DOLLAR

Bet that pisses you

off, right?

T-BIRD

Top, what the fuck is going on

tonight?

TOP

DOLLAR

Stay normal, T. Cops'll be all

hotwired and aggressive. No

combat moves until I check this

out.

 

EXT. STREET - NIGHT -

(~CROWVISION") HIGH ANGLE

Taking in the street, the Pit, and a little

girl seated on an

abandoned car.

ANGLE - STREET LEVEL - ON ELLY.

Seated

on the looted wheelless car, playing with a small doll.

CLOSER ANGLE -

ON ELLY

She doesn't notice someone is watching her yet.

TIGHT ON DOLL,

THEN ELLY

She looks up o.s. at Eric, who is still out of the frame.

ELLY

What are you supposed to be? A clown?

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

He smiles

for what seems to be the first time. Warm, even past

his crow makeup.

ERIC

Sometimes.

He glances back and logs the location of the Pit for

later, not

in a big hurry just now. Turns back to Elly.

WIDE ANGLE -

ERIC AND ELLY

ELLY

You look like a rock star without a

job.

ERIC

I dabble. May I?

He indicates the car hood, a "seat" next to Elly from

which he

may observe the Pit.

ELLY

If you're not some kinda child

molester.

Eric looks behind himself. Who, me? Genuinely amused. He

shakes his head no and sits down next to Elly.

 

INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

 

The music POUNDS and smoke is everywhere, like incense.

INTERCUTS of the

clientele, retro, robotic, clove cigarettes and

rubber clothing; fetish

casual wear.

ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

right in the center of the noise,

looking downscale and dirty

in this milieu.

ANGLE - ANOTHER CUSTOMER

 

Passing Top, appraising him, finding him as boring as life

itself.

Undertaker chic, she stares at Top.

TOP DOLLAR

I thought Halloween

was tomorrow

night.

An Oriental bodyguard passes him in f.g., motioning

to follow.

 

INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

Lao watches club

activity on his flybank of TVs. When Top

Dollar shows up at the office

door two Sentries try to bar his

passage. He shoves through.

 

TOP

DOLLAR

Get outta my way, you mooks.

Lao's demeanor indicates that they

should not kill Top.

LAO

An unexpected pleasure.

TOP DOLLAR

Bad

news. Alot of action on the

streets tonight, and nobody

bothered to

clear it with me. Tin-

Tin got himself whacked.

LAO

Who got himself

what?

TOP DOLLAR

One of mine. And it wasn't a

standard hit.

LAO

I had heard something like this.

(beat)

Describe it for me. The

"hit".

TOP DOLLAR

I was wondering if you could tell

me anything...

about a wildcat

operative.

LAO

I know of no one.

(beat)

But

even if there is, I am sure it

is nothing outside your capacity

to

deal with?

TOP DOLLAR

Anybody violates my turf -- our

turf -- I'll

rip out there heart

and show it to 'em.

LAO

To be sure. Now tell

how your

friend died.

 

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

ANNABELLA, a

comfortable large, spider-in-the-web deskworker,

sits typing at a

terminal. Miked headphone in one ear, police

scanner chatter o.s. She

blows and pops a pink bubble of gum.

ALBRECHT (O.S.)

Annie?

ANGLE -

ANNABELLA AND ALBRECHT

Albrecht enters frame from across her countertop.

ANNABELLA

Whatever it is, the answer's no,

Eddie. I'm too busy

tonight.

ALBRECHT

Annie, I need a file.

There is a desperate edge to

Albrecht's voice.

ANNABELLA

Speak up.

(beat; her guard up)

Clear it with the Captain if you

need a file.

ALBRECHT

This is

special, darlin'. Please?

Annabella eyes Albrecht doubtfully.

Fatalistic sigh.

ANNABELLA

Just don't tell me you "owe me

one."

What file?

ALBRECHT

Double homicide. A year ago.

Las Halloween.

 

 

EXT. STREET NEAR THE PIT - ERIC AND ELLY - NIGHT

Still hanging by the

car, a bit more familiar with each other

now. A low-slung

mirror-windowed LIMOUSINE hisses past them and

curbs across the street

from the Pit.

ELLY

My mom works over there. I'm

waiting for her,

but she's

probably with him, right now.

ERIC

Who?

ELLY

Mister

Funboy.

ERIC

Mister Funboy lives there?

 

 

TWO SHOT - ELLY AND ERIC -

(PIT B.G.)

ELLY

He has a room, upstairs. I don't

like him very

much.

Elly is not happy about this. B.G. we see Grange get out of the

car, heading to the Pit, and notice in passing a guy with the

white face

talking to the little girl down on the block.

ELLY (CONT'D)

Can you

play that thing or do you

just carry it around everywhere?

Elly

indicates the guitar strapped to Eric' back.

ERIC

I can pick out a

tune now

and again.

ELLY

Can you play "Teddy Bears' Picnic?"

(re: doll)

It used to be her favorite.

ERIC

Does she have a name?

ELLY

No name. You sure ask a lot of

questions.

Elly HANDS the doll to

Eric and he experiences a wholly

unexpected flash.

FLASH: Elly and

SHelly sitting as SHelly's vanity, goofing with

makeup, test-driving

lipstick, the doll visible on the vanity.

FLASH ENDS.

RESUME ERIC -

AS THE DOLL DROPS FROM HIS HAND

Pain is trying to fight it's way out of

Eric in surges.

ELLY (OS)

(smart alec)

Hel-lo? Earth to

anybody...?

Eric snaps out of it. Elly retrieves the doll.

ELLY

(CONT'D)

Do you feel okay.

ERIC

No.

ELLY

You gotta go now, I

bet.

ERIC

I have to go.

Half-zomboid, half-determined, he exits.

 

 

INT. PIT - NIGHT - WITH GRANGE

As he circulates to the bar, unimpressed.

To the bouncer:

GRANGE

Top Dollar?

BOUNCE

Never heard of him.

GRANGE

Funboy?

BOUNCER

Oh, prob'ly upstairs bangin'

Darla. Pay for

your own beer and

they'll prob'ly be down before you

can drink it.

 

 

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - OFFICE - NIGHT

CLOSE-UP of an 8x10 of the loft

slaughter in Albrecht's hands.

Subject: a document pinned to the wall

with a knife.

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT DESK.

flipping through the file.

Smoking.

ANGLE - THE 8X10 IN ALBRECHT'S HAND

Subject: Eric, dead in the

street in front of the loft

building. The blood on his face reminiscent

of his crow face.

As Albrecht's hand moves the photo we can see in the

file

several band shots of Eric as a member of Diabolique...

including

the shot on Lao's wall gallery of past performers at

Club Trash.

A

DOUGHUT on a paper plate suddenly touches down in the middle

of all this

research, startling Albrecht.

ANGLE - ANNABELLA BEHIND HIM

ANNABELLA

Don't thank me. Your ass is

already in enough trouble for this shit.

ALBRECHT

I knew that.

Albrecht holds a typewritten page closer to the

the light.

CLOSE-UP DOCUMENT, torn by the knife hole made by Tin-Tin.

 

It reads: We, the Undersigned tenants of 1929 Calderone Court

Apartments...

ALBRECHT

Another nice white girl with a

cause. Like a

big KICK ME sign.

Albrecht takes up and 8x10 of Eric's face.

ALBRECHT

(CONT'D)

Shelly Webster. And her nice

white boyfriend, Eric Draven.

 

With a felt-tip pen he superimposes the crow smile, like the make-

up,

like the blood.

ANNABELLA

Your last little wild goose chase

got you

busted back to the Beat

Patrol, just like in a bad

detective story,

Eddie. Are we

doing the wildgoose thing again?

UNDER THIS Albrecht

sketches in Eric's spiky Crow hairdo.

ALBRECHT

Could be.

ANNABELLA

You gonna wind up working at a school

crosswalk. that doughnut's

chocolate you, know.

 

PUSH IN on the doctored photo. It's Eric. It's

the Crow.

PUSH IN on ALbrecht.

ALBRECHT

Well, hello

there...chocolate,

ANNABELLA

Don't thank me.

ALBRECHT

Thanks,

babe.

 

INT. THE PIT (REAR) - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Climbing. The

crow perched on his shoulder. Not in a hurry.

ERIC

It's a Raymond

Chandler evening

And the pavements are all wet, And

I'm lurking in the

shadows, for it

hasn't happened ...

TIGHT CLOSE-UP - ERIC

Impish.

Clown killer.

ERIC (CONT'D)

... yet.

 

INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

Grange

at a table. SMoking and waiting. No beer. His back

protected, he is

stationed near the fire stair door and has a

good overview of the room.

 

INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

CLOSE-UP of a base pipe being lit and hit

hard.

 

EXT. THE PIT (REAR) - FIRE ESCAPE - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

Eric's

gloved hand slides sinuously up rusted railing.

 

INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM -

NIGHT

A hypodermic needle rises into frame. A nicotined fingernail

flicks bubbles in the syringe. FOLLOW needle down and BROADEN

ANGLE:

Funboy taps up a vein in Darla's arm and shoots her up.

Both are naked in

a shabby bed. Bare lightbulb above.

DARLA

Ooh, baby -- gimme all of

it.

CLOSE-UP - THE NEEDLE

As the plunger depresses.

ANGLE - ON THE

WINDOW

As the crow quite unexpectedly arrives and perches on the sill,

scaring the shit out of our two dopey friends. Funboy pulls a

giant auto

pistol; mock aims, calms down, doesn't fire.

DARLA

It's a big fucking

bird...

She falls back against her pillow, eyes dreamily defocusing.

Funboy giggles. Relaxes the gun, which half-disappears into the

sheets

at his side.

FUNBOY

It's a squab. Here bird, Here,

birdie...

NEW

ANGLE - DARLA AND FUNBOY

Except that Eric now stands near their bed,

across from the

bird's position, the guitar bowslung.

ERIC

Here

Funboy.

Contained panic as Funboy and Darla both startle. The needle

flies and lands at Eric's feet. Empty. Funboy struggles to

maintain

against his high.

FUNBOY

Oh wow, oh wow, don't fucking do

that, man.

I nearly had a fucking

heart attack.

DARLA

Fun -- look at that

guy...

FUNBOY

It's just the dope, don't worry

DARLA

Fun, he's not

going away; he's

scaring the piss outta me!

FUNBOY

Not me.

Funboy

draws the gun from underneath the sheers. Suddenly he seems

totally

focused.

FUNBOY (CONT'D)

Time for you to take your bird and

leave,

freako.

Eric rips open his shirtfront to reveal a circlet of bullet

punctures. This gives Funboy pause.

ERIC

Take your shot funboy. You

got

me, dead bang.

Funboy tilts the gun off target. Grins as Eric

flat handedly

past his chest, indicating where to shoot.

FUNBOY

You

are seriously fucked up, man.

Just look at yourself.

In a blur, he

sighs, and shoots Eric through the heart.

FUNBOY (CONT'D)

BANG! He

shoots, he scores!

Then his expression drags a little bit.

ANGLE - ERIC

 

Looking down and daubing his hand in the bullet wound on his chest.

ERIC

Bull's eye. Good shot.

ANGLE - DARLA

who starts scrambling to

get out. Grabbing clothes on the floor

around herself. she runs right

into Eric's outstretched hands.

ERIC

Stay.

Eric twists her arm.

 

CLOSE-UP - DARLA'S FOREARM.

where we may clearly see the needle tracks.

 

UP ANGLE - ERIC

ERIC

Morphine is bad for you.

He holds her arm

captive. Tight, and we PUSH IN CLOSER to see

the dope evacuating from

the punctures, a reverse of Eric's,

Blood trail. The dope drips from

Darla's arm to the floor.

Darla's eyes roll up into the unconscious. She

slumps.

ANGLE - ON FUNBOY - GAWPING

FUNBOY

How the hell did you do

that?

ERIC

Magic.

Funboy regards Eric's battlescars and guitar.

FUNBOY

Either die or do a solo.

Eric looks briefly to his chest wound,

wincing. He can't seem

to make it tie off fast enough. He turns his

attention back to

Funboy. But his strength is mysteriously ebbing.

ERIC

Neither.

FUNBOY

Yeah, I got a more fun idea myself.

Funboy

lashes out and broadsides Eric across the temple with the

gun. Eric

falls, rolls back to a stance, but Funboy is right on

top of him, howling

like a lunatic and pistol-whipping Eric

relentlessly.

FUNBOY

I hate

trespassers!

(whack!)

I hate prowlers!

(whack!)

I hate

peeping toms!

(whack!)

And right now I hate you!

ANGLE - WALL

NEAR BATHROOM

as Eric, caught off-guard by Funboy's hyper high and

weakened by

his wound, comes slamming into the wall, losing his footing.

Here comes Funboy, and we TILT UP from Eric's position as he

looms,

cocking the pistol, which now has Eric's blood on it.

FUNBOY

Ahh, the

hell with it, I still got

five shots left.

In a blur, Eric grabs

Funboy`s gun hand. Twists to the

crunching of bones. Funboy's

skewed-around gun hand blows a

hole in his own thigh. Funboy fall back

across the bed.

FUNBOY

Owwwaaaa -- fuck me! Look what

you did to my

sheets, you lame

piece'a shit! AAAAaa! Goddd!

ERIC

Does it hurt?

FUNBOY

Does it hurt?! You dead-ass,

clown-faced fuck, of course it

fucking hurts! What the shit are

you gonna do about this?!

Eric sits

on the bed next to Funboy; inspects the ampule of

morphine on the

nightstand, the needle of the syringe already

inserted.

ERIC

I have

some pain killer right here.

And he fills the syringe all the way.

 

ANGLE ON FUNBOY

as he begins to see the light. He can't get away.

Growing

terror.

FUNBOY

No, wait, no WAIT, that's too

much, man,

that's like overkill,

nobody can take that much, you're

wasting it -- !

ERIC

Your pain ends now.

And Eric rams the needle into Funboy's heart,

driving home

the full dose. Funboy begins to convulse.

Eric falls back

on the bed, his force spent. Darla COMES TO in

the corner,

shock-traumatized. On O.S. COUGH, and Eric opens

his eyes.

The Skull

Cowboy, standing in the room, tips his hat.

SKULL COWBOY

Howdy

(beat)

You look a mess. Like an ole

cooter dog.

TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S

FACE

streaked with -- mostly -- his own blood.

ANOTHER ANGLE - THE

SKULL COWBOY AND ERIC

SKULL COWBOY

Getting a little ambitious and

extracurricular, aren't we?

ERIC

Go away.

SKULL COWBOY

You need

to learn to mind your own

business or you'll never get where

you think

you're going.

ERIC

Shut up.

SKULL COWBOY

Maybe I was wrong about

you.

The Skull Cowboy seems saddened or disappointed. All we get is

a

little shake of his skull-head.

Darla makes a SOUND and Eric turns

toward her. She's really

confused. She's looking to Eric for some kind

of answer.

ERIC

Your daughter is out there, on the

street, waiting

for you.

She's stunned, utterly speechless. All she can do is look in

Eric's eyes, try to ponder the phantoms there.

ERIC

Go. Now.

Darla

shoves helter-skelter past Eric and out the door without

a glance back

at Funboy.

Eric, recovering, follows slowly, staring at the open door,

stooping to lift the guitar dropped during the fight with

Funboy. The

Skull Cowboy has vanished. PUSH IN. Grimly, Eric

takes a syringe and

begins to draw blood from the late Funboy.

 

INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

As a

hastily dressed Darla BANGS out through the fire stair door

behind Grange

and FLEES the Pit.

BOUNCER

Hey, g'night, Darla.

(to Grange)

That there is Darla.

GRANGE

Funboy?

Bartender indicates UP with his

thumb. Grange moves to the fire

stairs door.

 

 

INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM -

NIGHT

Grange has seen the door ajar and now ENTERS gun-first. Freezes

when he sees:

GRANGE POV - FUNBOY

Half-sheeted, bloody, a hypo hanging

out of his heart.

RESUME GRANGE

Eyes darting, drawn to --

GRANGE'S POV

- THE WALL NEAR FUNBOY

A crow silhouette spray-painted with a syringe of

Funboy's

blood. A thin outline, drippy.

RESUME GRANGE

whirling with

his gun to bring it to bear on --

ANGLE - GRANGE SEES THE WINDOW

The

crow is no longer in the room. Eric is perched on the sill,

guitar and

all, looking right at Grange as if waiting from him.

He winks, holds a

finger to his lips -- sshh --and jumps out

into the night.

ANOTHER ANGLE

- GRANGE

He almost fires, but doesn't. We see instead the priceless

expression on his face as we --

CUT TO:

 

INT. PRECINCT FOYER - NIGHT

 

Albrecht lights another smoke, quitting for the night. Waves to

the

late-working Annabella en route.

 

EXT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

Albrecht

hasn't gone three steps before Eric appears behind him,

cat silent,

matching pace.

NB: Eric has got a new black rock-n-roll shirt on... and

a

shell casing from Funboy's gun tied in his hair.

ERIC

Freeze.

 

Albrecht startles; drops his file. Nearly draws his gun.

ALBRECHT

Jeezus! Don't ever do that, man!

Albrecht pants, hysterical but calming

down. Eric waits.

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

I told you cops don't say

"freeze".

He retrieves Eric's doctored photo from the spill of papers.

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

You, my friend, are dead. I saw

your body. You got

buried.

ERIC

I saw it, too.

Albrecht gathers up the file. Eric

stands there. We realize he

is hesitant about touching the file.

ERIC

(CONT'D)

Walk with me.

As Albrecht comes up with the file as they walk.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT ON THE STREET

ALBRECHT

You died,

man. I can't believe it

but here you are. Last year,

you and your

girlfriend --

ERIC

I need you to tell me what you

remember. What

happened to us?

ALBRECHT

You went out the window. She was

beaten

and raped. She died in the

hospital.

They stop. Eric didn't know

this. Fixes Albrecht with a look.

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Hey, you asked,

man.

(beat)

She held on for thirty hours in

intensive care.

Hemorrhage,

trauma. He body just finally

gave it up.

(beat;

regret)

I saw it and couldn't do jack for

her.

Eric has grown

increasingly distraught over Albrecht's lines.

Now he turns to Albrecht

and, holding Albrecht's temples with

his fingers, puts his thumbs over

Albrecht's eyes.

TIGHT ON ERIC - ALBRECHT AGAINST WALL

We see Eric

react to a brutal Flash... but we don't see the

Flash.

 

NEW ANGLE -

ERIC AND ALBRECHT

And Eric tears from Albrecht; staggers back, now

holding his own

head. His crow face slacked in realized horror.

ALBRECHT

You okay, man? I mean, what just

happened.

ERIC

The venom

of bad memories. You

were there; you saw her. I saw

you seeing her.

 

Understandable nervous, Albrecht lights up a cigarette.

ALBRECHT

You

gotta understand -- I was

hoping she'd talk, give me a lead,

a clue,

something to work with.

But she only said one thing to me

before she

died.

Eric lowers his head, penitent.

ERIC

My name.

ALBRECHT

(fizzles)

I'm sorry as hell, man.

ERIC

Thirty hours. A day of life,

plus

change...

TIGHT TWO-SHOT - ALBRECHT AND ERIC

Eric plucks the

cigarette from Albrecht's lips, taking a single

contemplative puff from

it.

ERIC

Halloween is coming, soon. You

will have Top Dollar if you

watch

for me at the Showtime, tomorrow night.

ALBRECHT

I should be

trying to stop you.

Eric nods, keeping his eyes on the cigarette.

ERIC

Thank you. For giving a damn.

ALBRECHT

My pleasure.

ERIC

Don't smoke these.

As a bus grumbles past on the street, Eric pitches

the butt and

simultaneously ducks out of frame.

ANGLE - ALBRECHT TURNS

 

to see a blank building wall. Fire escape. Darkness. No Eric.

He does

a full 360 degree turn. Eric is gone again.

ALBRECHT

Damn, I wish he

wouldn't do that.

MOVING ANGLE - FROM BUS ROOF

Coat flapping, Eric is

standing on the bus roof as the bus moves

away from Albrecht's position.

 

 

INT. LAO NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

Lao has the partially disassembled rat

skeleton in front of him,

as well as a mortar and pestle with some bits

of crushed bone, and

is smoking powdered rat bone in a pipe and Grange

reports to

him.

GRANGE

The son of a bitch winked at me.

The he

jumped. Three stories.

Lao seems strangely unaffected by the bizarre

nature of Grange's

tale.

LAO

Did you see an animal of any kind?

Did

you see a bird?

GRANGE

(puzzled)

No. I saw a guitar.

(beat; irritated)

This isn't some rock-n-roller

you forgot to pay, is

it?

(beat)

There was a drawing on the wall

that looked like a

bird. In

blood.

Lao's expression is one of sublime content.

LAO

Good.

Grange

It could've been a chicken...

EXT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT

- ("CROWVISION")

A LONG SHOT of the T-Bird parked across the street from

the

store as two figures -- T-Bird and Skank -- approach on the

store

side.

SKANK

I wish to hell I had torched

Gideon's, that fat fuck.

T-BIRD

I wish to hell I knew who it was

that made Tin-Tin into a voodoo

doll last night.

ANGLE - CLOSER ON T-BIRD AND SKANK - STREET LEVEL

They

stop walking. Look at each other and sanctimoniously cross

themselves.

Tin-Tin's big R.I.P. moment. T-Bird indicates the

liquor store.

T-BIRD

We need some smokes and some road

beers.

SKANK

Got it.

 

Skank hustles toward the store. T-Bird crosses to the car.

ANGLE -

T-BIRD - THROUGH CAR WINDOWS

WIDEN ANGLE to include the car as he nears

it. Behind him, two

12-year-old KIDS, AXEL and CHOPPER, enter the store

after Skank,

one wearing a long duster.

 

INT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT

as

the KIDS enter and split between the counter and magazine

rack. East

Indian CLERK. Two boys fight video game wars in the

corner. Skank

browses, grabbing odds and ends.

 

EXT. STREET / INT. CAR - LOWER ANGLE -

NIGHT

as T-Bird climbs in, digs the last cigarette from his pack,

snaps

his Zippo and in the sudden orange light, sees:

 

INSERT - REARVIEW

MIRROR

Eric's purloined Strat in the back sear reflecting the light.

 

 

ANGLE - T-BIRD

He tries to spin and draw his gun but Eric is upon him,

nestling

one of Tin-Tin's throwing knives right inside T-Bird's ear.

T-BIRD

What the fuck are you supposed to

be, man?!

INSERTS: Eric

liberates T-Bird's automatic from the shoulder

holster; Eric's hand

closes T-Bird's door for him.

ERIC

I'm your passenger. You drive.

And stop talking.

TIGHT ANGLE - T-BIRD'S HANDS

on ignition key and

gearshift, making ready. As ordered.

 

INT. LIQUOR STORE - ON SKANK AT

COUNTER - NIGHT

He looks outside and sees Eric as the car fires up,

pipes and

glasspacks grumbling. Skank moves, BRISTLING.

SKANK

What's

all this happy horseshit?

And the car peels out maniacally! Skank tries

to pursue -- but

the two KIDS draw weapons and freeze everyone in the

store.

AXEL

Alright, alright, alright --

everybody be cool and stay

exactly

where you are.

Chopper hustles up to the counter and relieves

Skank of a

gigantic Auto Mag.

CHOPPER

Whooooa, cowboy! Cool gun.

 

Off Skank's look of total outfoxed disgust.--

 

INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING

FAST - NIGHT

Vertiginous windshield POV of onrushing street, highspeed.

ERIC (O.S.)

Faster, T-Bird. Faster. You're

a hell of a wheelman; you

know you

can drive faster.

 

ANGLE - ERIC AND T-BIRD

Eric now holds

T-Bird's own gun on him. Eyes locked on T-Bird.

T-Bird's jump between

Eric's nightmare visage and the roadway.

T-BIRD

You call it, blood --

you got the

gun. You just tell me where you want

to go.

Clearly T-Bird

would relish bisecting Eric with a meat cleaver

as he says this. He's

nervous and needs to hold the road.

ERIC

That's good. We're going

someplace you've never been

before.

 

EXT. STREET - HIGH ANGLE ON T-BIRD

- NIGHT

as the car burns up the obstacle course of pavement, kicking

wake of litter. PEDESTRIANS scurry to clear the way.

 

INT. POLICE

CRUISER - NIGHT

Parked in an alley, facing the street. Two cops work on

large

styro cups of steaming coffee. MJ (driver) and SPEEG.

MJ

Smells like rain.

SPEEG

Smells like a septic tank. You

got that

cream stuff?

MJ

In the bag.

Speeg rummages inside the takeout bag.

SPEEG

I hate this cream stuff. They

can't even call it cream,

legally.

They snap to as the T-Bird blazes past, doing ninety.

MJ

What in the crap?

MJ floors the pedal, drenching Speeg in coffee on

takeoff.

SPEEG

Ow! Owowoowowoowo, goddammit!

EXT. STREET - ON ALLEY

- NIGHT

as the cruiser roars out to give chase.

 

INT. T-BIRD -

TRAVELLING FAST - NIGHT

Eric lends the chase car a backward look.

ERIC

You caught one. Drive faster.

T-BIRD

Man, you gonna get us

killed dead

and I don't even know what you

want!

Eric cocks T_Bird's

pistol and levels it at his face.

ERIC

I want you to stop talking.

And

drive. Drive faster.

Eric rifles the glove box, tossing items out

the window: clips

for the gun. Sunglasses. A giant dildo (brief

eyebrows-up to

T-Bird). Then: a roll of (previously established)

gaffer's

tape. What Eric needs.

ANGLE - T-BIRD AND REARVIEW MIRROR

as

he sees a second cop car join the high speed pursuit,

ERIC (CONT'D)

You're very popular. Thought

you could handle this thing.

T-Bird macho

calcifies. He's going to win.

T-BIRD

To hell with you.

ERIC

(wry)

Naturally.

INSERT - SPEEDOMETER

Climbing swiftly toward the 100

mark.

 

EXT. CITY STREETS - VARIOUS ANGLES - THE CHASE - NIGHT

A 3-way

pursuit until the T-Bird reaches the outskirts of the

city.

 

EXT.

DOCKSIDE STREET - NIGHT

All quiet... until the T-Bird ZOOMS past frame.

The lead cop

tries to duplicate the T-Bird's corner-cut and starts

spinning.

It clips a light pole. Rebounds into the path of MJ's unit.

 

 

INT. POLICE CRUISER - ON SPEEG AND MJ - TRAVELING - NIGHT

as MJ stands

on the brakes. Collision imminent. They howl.

 

EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET -

NIGHT

as MJ's unit broadsides the first cop car.

 

EXT. DETROIT RIVER

SHIPYARD - NIGHT

The T-bird careens through dockside silence, alone,

then

fishtails, SCREECHING, to a lung-compressing halt.

 

INT. T-BIRD -

ON ERIC AND T-BIRD - NIGHT

T-bird respirating like a jackhammer. Eric

holds stoic.

T-BIRD

So what -- you gonna rape me now?

ERIC

Time

for your reward, T. Payback

with interest earned.

Eric rips a long

strip of tape from the roll.

 

EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - NIGHT

A

HIGH ANGLE of the car as Eric opens the trunk.

ERIC'S POV - The Trunk.

 

loaded with plastique, canisters, timers, arson paraphernalia.

 

INT.

T-BIRD - FAVOR T-BIRD - NIGHT

SLOW TILT starting with T-Bird's foot,

firmly taped to the

pedal. Mummified into his seat. Hands taped to the

wheel.

Throat taped hard against the headrest.

 

The car is now in gear,

idling.

ANGLE - ON ERIC FROM WINDOW

He drops an incendiary right into

T-Bird's lap. T-Bird squirms.

No go. Eric reaches in with a bungie

cord.

ERIC

A little restrictive? Good.

(chilling)

You held

her down and raped her.

You were the first. She burned

while you were

inside of her.

(re: bomb)

What's the lag on this? About

twenty

seconds, would you say?

T-bird thrashes, but he's immobilized. Can't

even budge the

wheel.

ERIC (CONT'D)

I've comrades in hell, T-bird.

Give them my best.

Eric activates the timer. Yanks up hard on the

bungie cord.

INSERT: T-BIRD FOOTWELL

The bungie cord pulls T-Bird's

foot all the way down on the

pedal.

ANGLE - ON CAR, FROM DOCKSIDE

Eric

steps back, plucks the guitar out as the car starts to move. The

car

roars for the edge of the dock, about a distance of a

football field.

Eric examines T-bird's auto pistol and pops the

clip.

INTERCUTS: as the

car speeds for the water's edge, Eric thumbs

bullets from the clip, one

by one.

 

INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING FAST - NIGHT

T-bird's eyes bug in

horror and he goes MMMMMMMMHHH!

CLOSE-UP - THE CLIP IN ERIC'S HAND

 

thumbing out the final bullet.

 

EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - RESUMING

ERIC - NIGHT

ERIC

All gone.

ANGLE - T-BIRD REACHES DOCKSIDE

Lifting

off and blowing all to hell, a billion smithereens of

phosphorescent firs

pattering into the dark water. It hits.

Sinks. Weird flare glow as the

car quickly submerges.

ANGLE - ERIC

heaving the gun into the distant

water. Plosh. He produces T-

Bird's accelerator. Squirts it into the

ground. He

prestidigitates and T-Bird's Zippo appears in his hand. He

flicks it and drops it into the flammable puddle.

HIGH LONG SHOT - ERIC

 

walking slowly out of the scene as the firepool coalesces into

a burning

crow shape.

 

INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAWN

CLOSE-UP of a frying pan

busy burning some pretty firebombed

looking eggs. Kind gross.

ANGLE -

DARLA AT THE STOVE.

NOT THRILLED WITH HER OWN PROGRESS.

DARLA

I

never was too good at this

domestic shit.

ANGLE - ELLY AT LIVING ROOM

WINDOW

staring outside at nothing in particular. Yet.

ELLY

Don't

say "shit".

(beat)

That's okay. Corn Flakes are

okay. Anything.

 

She pauses as she hears a lilting, faraway GUITAR STRAIN.

Across the

street she can make out the figure of Eric on his

roof playing the

guitar.

 

EXT. ROOF OF LOFT BUILDING DAWN

EXTREME CLOSE of a Pignose

Amp. More soft GUITAR strokes as

CAMERA FOLLOWS a patchwork a

taped-together, jerry-rigged

cables to:

ANGLE - ERIC ON ROOF --

shirtless, crosslegged, his Crow make-up

streaked by the night's work.

His fingering is unsure and he

tries the tune again.

INSERT - We she

Shelly's engagement ring on a leather thong

around Eric's neck. Like an

amulet.

ANGLE - ERIC PLAYING

He's got it right this time. Strong, sure

CHORDS. Passionate.

We can almost imagine him conjuring Shelly via

musical sorcery.

He holds a stroke, letting it ring. Sun rises behind

him.

IRATE VOICE (O.S.)

Hey, shut the fuck up!

Eric's eyes, closed

with the moment, dart left. Funny.

 

EXT. MAXI-DOGS - DAY

Later. Elly

is seated on a stool.. Mickey gives her a chili

dog.

MICKEY

Chili

dog for breakfast... it's

original.

ELLY

Mom tried to cook.

MICKEY

Oh.

CUSTOMER (O.S.)

Hey, Mickey, I need a special

with

everything. No sawdust.

MICKEY

(to Elly)

Everyone's a

comedian. Enjoy.

Mickey EXITS FRAME.

GRANGE (O.S.)

You're Elly,

right? I know your

mom.

Elly turns. Grange sits next to her. Lao's

mirrored-windowed car

is parked across the street, b.g.

ELLY

A lot of

people "know" my mom.

Grange points o.s., indicating he wants coffee

from Mickey.

GRANGE

I know your friend, too -- the one

that looks

like a rock star.

ELLY

I don't know you.

GRANGE

(easily)

I'd like to get in touch with him.

Elly sizes Grange up.

ELLY

You're

not a cop, either. What do

you want him for?

GRANGE

I'm looking for

a good guitar man.

ELLY

Right.

Grange withdraws a $10 bill from his

wallet and slides it across

the countertop to Mickey.

ELLY (CONT'D)

You buying?

(cuts him some slack)

He kinda wanders around. You'll

see him if you pay attention.

GRANGE

I need to find him kind of soon,

Elly.

 

INT. LOFT - ON ERIC - DAY

No shirt, the ring on the thong around

his neck -- workout mode.

He twirls and performs odd Crow moves of

increasing complexity

in the big open living room. On purpose, he

stretches hard

against the bedroom doorframe.

FLASH: Shelly stands in

the blue moonlight near the picture window

wearing a rococo Victorian

gown. PUSH IN TIGHT as she is

embraced by a nude Eric. He undoes the

last few remaining ties

that hold the gown in place. FOLLOW THE GOWN as

it crumples

down the length of Shelly's (also otherwise nude) body to the

floor...

FLASH ENDS.

LOW ANGEL - FROM INSIDE THE BEDROOM - ON ERIC

 

hanging there, inviting the pain the FLASHES bring. Breathing

as though

he is pumping iron, pumping up.

ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN BEDROOM

 

embracing a ragged full-length dress that used to be Shelly's.

FLASH:

Eric and Shelly (wearing the same dress), exchange an

extremely

passionate and intimate KISS in the moonlight.

FLASH ENDS.

ANGLE -

RESUMING ERIC

as he drops the dress. Absorbing the pain and memories.

 

ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN LIVING ROOM

executing a complex roll that winds

him up at the windowsill.

He grasps it with both hands.

FLASH: A series

of CLOSE SHOTS of Eric and Shelly's HANDS, each

moving along the other's

body. Curves and dips and contours.

But Eric's gaze never leaves

SHelly's eyes.

FLASH ENDS.

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AT WINDOW

His GAZE

similarly FIXED. Bringing his hands away and clapping

them together,

deep breath, fingertips pressed to his face, like

Kung Fu prep. When he

opens his eyes, the crow is there before

him on the sill.

ERIC

That's

better.

He wipes his torso down with a towel.

ERIC (CONT'D)

It's

almost time.

He holds his hand in front of his face and he flexes it.

We can

HEAR tendons CRACKLE like a harness. Closes it into a powerful

fist.

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

TIGHT on Skank as he slams his

fist down on the table. He has

a black eye and facial scuffs from his

liquor store encounter.

SKANK

Top, I made the sumbitch! Face

all

painted white like some kinda

fuckin' kabuki homo!

WIDE ANGLE to

include all present: Lao, Grange, Lao Guards #1

and #2, Top Dollar, and

a Sentry. Top dusts up a line and

rinses his nostrils with brandy.

LAO

Sounds like our "Crow" is

out-maneuvering you.

TOP DOLLAR

"Our"

Crow...?

LAO

Come now. You've seen the

graffiti -- all over the

city in

the few hors it has taken your

men to drop like plague victims.

What about your turf, Top?

(mockingly)

You don't seem to have

ripped out

anyone's heart yet.

TOP DOLLAR

(pissed off)

The

night is young.

SKANK

(hot)

The found T-bird flash-fried to

what was left of his fucking car!

Top is angry too, but won't show it to

Lao. He rises and goes

to the window. Neon glow. Top sees something

outside, below,

that really torques him off.

 

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE

SHOWTIME - NIGHT (TOP'S POV)

A phantom GRAFFITI ARTIST is spray-painting

a crow shape on the

condemned building right across the street.

 

INT.

TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

Top whip-drawing an auto pistol and shooting

below.

TOP DOLLAR

Hey, you little fuckweed! That's

against the law!

 

His gun smoking. Momentary empowerment.

TOP DOLLAR (CONT'D)

I don't

give a shit what kinda

bird this guy is.

 

EXT. WINDOW - NIGHT

As Top

turns from the window, PULL BACK to incorporate the

chunky shadows where

the lights don't fall. Eric is there,

perched on the narrow exterior

ledge...but we don't know it

until he opens his eyes, two dots of white

in the blackness.

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

LAO AT TABLE --

angered by this macho horseshit, annoyed at his

time being frittered.

LAO

I am sitting over here.

He SLAMS a palm on the table and the room

goes silent. Top

looks sheepish.

LAO (CONT'D)

Do you think this

childish

machismo impresses me?

(regains composure)

When I was a

boy in Saigon I

watched my country change one

block at a time, one

building at

a time. Whole lives erased. A

way of life, polluted.

Today, no

one forces me to move. I use my

powers to change your

country, one

block at a time, one building at

a time.

TOP DOLLAR

Nice speech. What's it supposed

to mean?

LAO

Your comprehension is

not

required. Your cooperation and,

indeed, your ability are the

issues on the table.

Top rallies to this.

TOP DOLLAR

Whatever you

say, I can do.

Skank looks around, nervous and jumpy, a contradiction to

Top's

guarantee.

 

LAO

That's reassuring.

CLOSE-UP - TOP'S SHELL

CASING IN ERIC'S HAND

from the ledge. Endstamp is for a .45 caliber.

 

ANGLE - ERIC ON LEDGE

He sniffs the cartridge. We can see Funboy's

cartridge in his

hair. He fists the shell casing tightly.

ANGLE -

DOWN-TABLE, AT SKANK

Jittery, grabbing a clip for his own automatic.

SKANK

What was that -- !?

It wasn't anything. Skank loads, stands and

jacks the action on

his gun. Lao looks questioningly to Top Dollar.

TOP DOLLAR

Too many poppers, Skank. Relax. Heel.

ANGLE - WINDOW

BEHIND TOP DOLLAR

A black blur as Eric arches through, spilling Top.

 

ANGLE - MEN SEATED AT TABLE

Eric back flips the length of the table and

kicks the gun from

Skank's hand. All react. Weapons out.

CLOSE-UP -

SKANK'S GUN

spinning mid-air to land in Eric's open hand!

GENERAL ANGLE

- BIG MOBY SHOOTOUT - (VARIOUS)

Death cleans house. Standing on the

table, Eric fires rearward

under his own arm to clip Lao Guard #1. He

pivots, shooting,

and takes out Lao Guard #2 -- who slams backward into

the steel

door as it being opened by the Sentry outside. Crash! The

door is shut again.

ANGLE - GRANGE AND LAO

Grange sprays the room with

a Calico 950 Auto, shoving Lao

beneath the table for cover.

ANGLE - ERIC

 

Bullets hit him and demolish everything behind him. Skank hits

the deck

again. Eric fires and Lao Guard #1 sucks three hits

across the chest,

firing convulsively against the ceiling, blowing

the lights.

ANGLE - TOP

DOLLAR

springing up from behind table. But Eric is gone from the field

of fire and one shot strikes Skank, rising at the far end.

ANGLE - LAO

AND GRANGE

making for the door, Grange as shield. Lao draws a pistol.

The door

opens and Lao shoots a Sentry to clear him out of the way.

 

ANGLE - TIGHTER ON LAO

A last look back toward Eric and Grange hustle

Lao out.

Door SLAM o.s. Top is out of ammo as Eric lands from above

frame right in front of him and slaps the gun from his hand.

TOP

DOLLAR

(awed but maintained)

You want my attention, man you

got

it.

ANGLE - SKANK UNDER TABLE

Wounded but clawing toward Eric just the

same.

SKANK

It's him, Top! He dusted T-Bird!

ANGLE - ERIC AND TOP

DOLLAR, FACE-TO-FACE

ERIC

You have to be SKank.

(to Top Dollar)

One moment.

As he speaks, WIDEN FRAME as he turns and grabs the incoming

Skank by the hair.

ERIC

Thank of a snappy comeback for me

on your

way down.

Without a beat he pitches Skank right out the window! Skank

howls

all the way down.

 

EXT. STREET - ON POLICE CAR - NIGHT

Damaged

from the wreck, limping home, piloted by our pals Speeg

and MJ. Skank

smashes down into the roof, imploding the

flashbar and windshield. MJ

drenches his lap in fresh coffee.

MJ

OwwwAAHHH son of a BITCH!

ANGLE

- SIDEWALK ACROSS THE STREET - ON ALBRECHT

who watches with slow marvel

from the shadows

ALBRECHT

Jesus Christ...

He runs to assist the

demolished cruiser.

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - RESUMING - NIGHT

Just

Top, Eric, corpses, and lazily drifting gunsmoke.

ERIC

Top Dollar,

you're the only one

here still wasting good air...

TOP DOLLAR

Five

large, in the drawer right

over there. I never saw you.

ERIC

Do

you know what you destroyed?

TOP DOLLAR

Take the dope, too.

Eric

backhands Top into the wall. Gets in his face, seething.

ERIC

A year

ago. A very nice lady

circulated a petition. She died.

Last

Halloween. Answer yes or no.

TOP DOLLAR

That's ancient history.

ERIC

It's yesterday! Do you know what

you destroyed?

Top Dollar yells

right back at Eric's anger.

TOP DOLLAR

Who gives a fuck! I'm a

businessman. You gonna do me,

then do me and shut you're face!

ERIC

You don't even remember...

TOP DOLLAR

I never forget anything,

dickhead.

That building was a sweep-and-

clear; the bitch was a

nuisance

with her goddamned petition. It

got a little rowdy... end of

story.

ERIC

Rowdy. Let me fill in some gaps

for you.

And he grabs

Top's head the way he grabbed ALbrecht's earlier,

slams Top into the

wall. Nose-to-nose.

FLASH: Shelly backing away from oncoming Funboy in

the loft,

trying to retreat, nowhere to run, her home invaded, scared.

FLASH ENDS.

ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

Top is quivering, almost

helpless in Eric's hypnotic grasp.

Eric winces, hard, and --

FLASH:

Shelly cut, bleeding, struggling against T-Bird. Wild.

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

Viciously close, more intimate and

lethal than anything.

ERIC

You're a detail man, Top -- you

need to

see more.

This time Top tries to twist from Eric's grasp but it's no

good.

FLASH: Shelly, comatose in ICU, eyes fixed and staring,

hoses

darting in and out, cold blue refrigerator light.

Bloody, bruised and

broken (from Albrecht;s memory)

FLASH ENDS.

CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR

 

arching, stiffening in pain.

CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

ERIC

All

of her pain, Top. Thirty

hours. All at once...

Eric bears down on Top

Dollar again. Top screams. Blood begins

to leak from his eyes, nose,

ears.

ERIC (CONT'D)

...all for you.

FLASH: Rapidfire CLOSE-UPS. A

jagged compound fracture,

jutting, Shelly's eye, blood-red sclera,

purpled and sunken.

Her scraped-raw hand clawing at air. Icebox

lighting. A TIGHT

SHOT of her monitor going flatline: eeeeeeeeeeeeee...

 

TWO-SHOT - RESUMING ERIC AND TOP DOLLAR.

as Top sags in Eric's grasp,

terror fixing his wide-staring dead

eyes. Eric lets him drop like a

laundry sack.

ERIC

I didn't think you could handle it

either.

O.S.

BANG of impact, heavy against the steel door. Eric turns.

ANGLE - STEEL

DOOR

as it is battered down by a squad of police using a power-ram.

All

weapons snap up to bear on Eric.

LEAD SWAT

That's all she wrote,

Bozo! You

stand down now, and that's an

order!

ANGLE - ERIC AS HE

MOVES

using his foot to shove the massive conference table at the

incoming SWATS while launching himself into the air, flipping

toward the

window and arching through cleanly as the cops open

fire on command.

Bullets tear the room to pieces.

LEAD SWAT

The fire escape's covered.

 

 

EXT. SHOWTIME - FRONT FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Picking up Eric on his dive

through the window, bullets chasing

him. Immediate police fire from

below sparks off the ironwork.

Eric ducks slugs balletically and scampers

to the roof.

ANGLE - SHOWTIME ROOFTOP EDGE

Eric somersaults over.

Bullets chip brick in his wake.

STREET LEVEL - UP ANGLE TOWARD ROOF.

 

Showtime girded police cars and MARKSMEN, Eric a distant

shadow figure

above. Here comes a TEAM LEADER with a bullhorn.

TEAM LEADER

(FILTERED)

On the roof! Keep firing! Keep

firing!

A fury of law

enforcement ordnance cuts loose all around him.

RESUMING ERIC ON

SHOWTIME ROOF EDGE

A forearm up against the fusillade. Below him --

 

ANGLE - PIT FRONT FIRE ESCAPE

Here come Lead SWAT and his Merry MEN.

 

MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC - ADJACENT ROOFTOP

Eric runs for it. Half a

story higher. He hits the wall and

skitters up, gripping tiny cracks in

the brickwork.

ANGLE - RESUMING MEN ON FRONT SHOWTIME FIRE ESCAPE.

Lead

SWAT hesitates -- because of what he sees.

LEAD SWAT

Holy shit, it's

spiderman.

He tries to pull a bead and fires too late.

LEAD SWAT

(CONT'D)

What're you boy scouts staring at!

Let's Go! Let's go! Let's

go!

MOVING ANGLE - PICKING UP ERIC ON NEXT ROOF

He sprints to the far

edge and dives to the next lower rooftop.

As he lands he is nailed by a

helicopter spotlight, boring in

from behind and above the row of

buildings.

MOVING ANGLE - THE STREET BELOW

COPS below, COPS in the

chopper, everyone rushing parallel to

Eric, trying to keep up.

ERIC'S

POV - THE STREET, THE HELICOPTER

PAN QUICK to the next ledge. COPS

right behind him on the roof

as well.

WITH ERIC - AS HE RUNS TO THE

EDGE.

and finds a void waiting there. No connecting building.

ANOTHER

MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

staying ahead of the search light. A fantastic

series of artful

moves that wind him up at the rear edge of the roof.

 

ANGLE - SWAT MEN ON NEXT ROOF

sighting Eric as the light picks him out.

Eric glances at

them... then jumps.

CHOPPER PILOT (O.S./FILTERED)

He's off the roof. We can't see

him.

CLOSE-UP - LEAD SWAT

pulling his

weapon off target, because there is not target.

LEAD SWAT

Dammit to

hell!

(beat; to men)

Come on.

ANGLE - ALLEY - STREET LEVEL

Eric

lands like a falling safe, scattering garbage. But he's

okay, up and

running.

ANGLE - ERIC'S RUNNING POV - END OF ALLEY

as his escape is cut

off by a police car that screeches to a

stop, blocking the exit.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

as he backpedals, scanning for an alternate escape.

ALBRECHT

(from car)

Come on!

CLOSER ANGLE - POLICE CAR

We can

see Albrecht. Eric dives inside and the car burns rubber.

 

INT.

ALBRECHT'S CAR - TRAVELLING - NIGHT

Albrecht harried and frantic, but in

control.

ALBRECHT

Keep your head down!

He twists and turns the car,

glancing rearward for pursuit.

Gradually he calms down.

ALBRECHT

(CONT'D)

I figured you might need a ride

home.

Eric looks up at him

from his half-concealed crouch.

ERIC

It's done.

ALBRECHT

I figured

as much. Did you cap

off Funboy.

ERIC

Funboy had to leave this

mortal

coil.

ALBRECHT

Yeah, among others.

(sees Eric's

condition)

Hey, man -- you're hit.

ERIC

It's only a flesh wound.

ALBRECHT

It's only fourteen or fifteen

flesh wounds.

Eric sits up as

the car gains distance. Grabs the cigarette out

of ALbrecht's mouth.

Takes his single puff.

ERIC

You shouldn't smoke these.

He pitches

the smoke out the open car window.

ALBRECHT

Great. Litterbug of the

Living

Dead.

Eric turns back to Albrecht.

ERIC

I'm finished.

Eric

shoots him a doubtful look.

ERIC (CONT'D)

I mean, I've done what I

came to

do. It shouldn't hurt this much.

But it will pass...

ALBRECHT

(not buying it)

Right.

(beat)

You sure I can't

just take you to

the emergency ward?

 

EXT. STREET - NIGHT - ON

ALBRECHT'S CAR

It hangs a turn and their escape is made.

ERIC (O.S.)

They couldn't do anything for me.

ALBRECHT (O.S.)

How 'bout the

morgue?

ERIC (O.S.)

No. I have one more thing to do.

 

EXT. STREET -

ANOTHER PART OF THE CITY - NIGHT

Lonelier, less traffic, more deserted.

 

ANGLE - ON ALBRECHT AND ERIC THROUGH WINDSHIELD - TRAVELLING

ALBRECHT

You're gonna kill somebody else.

(beat; no response)

We're gonna

stop and get a shit-load

of Band-Aids?

Eric is obviously fighting to

stay centered, stay conscious.

His last fight has caused him a great deal

of damage, taken a

lot out of him. He needs to recharge.

ERIC

I have

to prepare for an

anniversary. This coming night.

HOLD on their two

kinds of determination. as we

DISSOLVE TO:

 

EXT. CITYSCAPE - DAY

 

High blue sky. It might even be pretty if it wasn't Detroit.

 

INT.

LAO'S CLUB OFFICE - DAY

The TV flybank pulses with videotaped images of

Club Trash's of

various performers -- including Diabolique. On several

screens,

one-by-one, various images of a guitar-playing Eric Draven

FREEZE-FRAME as we PULL BACK to the desk. Lao has the 8x10 from

the

corridor gallery. He places it within eyeshot and resumes

work on the

desk BELOW FRAME; we can't see it yet, among other

scattered research

and inconcubula.

ANGLE - GRANGE

Entering and crossing to the desk. As

he comes up to the desk,

he DRAWS BACK.

 

GRANGE

What... the hell is

that?

LAO

(calmly)

This is a cobra, Mr. Grange. Yes,

it is

real.

NEW ANGLE - LAO AND GRANGE

Revealing Lao with a sealed cage,

holding a large, live cobra in

his hands. The killing blade is nearby.

GRANGE

That thing is poisonous.

LAO

Extremely so.

(beat)

You

and I are the recipients of

unwanted good fortune, in the form

of a

man everyone is calling The Crow.

Grange makes a face. Can't keep his

eyes off the cobra.

GRANGE

Give me a break. That guy's a wacko...

LAO

I intend no slight to you, but I

cannot find the English to

adequately express just what he

is. I suppose Western mythology

would

describe him as a Fury.

GRANGE

Not a Plymouth Fury, I bet.

Lao

chuckles indulgently.

LAO

Do you know of spirit assassins?

You do

know the dead can rise?

Properly motivated, of course.

GRANGE

Like

some sort of zombie on a

revenge trip.

LAO

Mmm. But tonight I can

take what

is his.

GRANGE

Only thing you'll get from that

clown is a

faster way to die.

LAO

To the contrary...

ZZLIP! Lao smoothly

BEHEADS the snake with the Blade against

the stone surface of the desk

and discards the writhing body.

He squeezes behind one of the eyes and a

VENOM SAC protrudes

like a dark pimento.

LAO pulls it free of the milky,

clinging tissue and EATS IT.

Off Grange's stunned expression.

LAO

(CONT'D)

...all the dying tonight will be

done by the former Eric

Draven.

Lao exhibits the blade to Grange as though it explains all.

LAO (CONT'D)

Who is only invulnerable so long

as he cares about the

dead. When

he begins to care about the living,

you'll find his heart

can bleed...

and I want it to bleed for me.

GRANGE

Kill a dead guy?

 

Lao POPS the second venom sac; swallows it. Pleased.

LAO

Truly kill

him. So I may crush

his skull and smoke it.

Lao SHRUGS. Grange can

handle it.

LAO (CONT'D)

Let it suffice that I need him...

and to get

to him, we'll need his

little friend.

Finally, an assignment Grange

can comfortable understand.

 

INT. LOFT - DAY

Eric, barechested,

emotionally tapped, clean of makeup and blood

but exhausted, his

movements retarded and slack. Staring

fixedly into the fireplace, where

he burns everything he could

find of his past: the junk from the makeup

table, the masques,

photos of himself and Shelly.

 

INT. LOFT - STAIRWELL

- DAY

Moving with Elly as she nears the open loft door. She PEEKS

cautiously inside.

RESUME ERIC

Without looking toward the door, he

speaks.

ELLY

What's going on...?

ERIC

A remembrance.

(beat)

A closure.

And Eric consigns to the fire the DRESS we saw earlier.

 

Holds a photograph in a broken frame. Cracked glass. Subject:

Eric and

Shelly, goofing for the camera.

He chucks it into the fire. Draws a

deep breath.

ERIC

Better now. I feel good. How are

you, Elly, my

friend?

Elly is clearly uncomfortable, groping for an excuse just to see

Eric. Eric is staring at her, intently.

ERIC

What is it?

ELLY

I

knew. I knew I knew you. Even

with the makeup and stuff you

wore.

(beat)

You really loved her, didn't you?

CLOSE-UP - FIREPLACE

The

photo burns and blackens in the grate.

ERIC

You brought flowers. As

long as

you don't forget her, Elly, she

lives.

ELLY

(upset)

She's dead. She's gone. And now

you're just gonna go away and

never

come back, too. I hate this

place; it isn't fair.

ERIC

Elly...

He

draws her close. Wipes away an errant tear with his thumb.

ERIC

(CONT'D)

Sometimes the people we care about

are gone, for no reason.

Sometimes

that's really tough. I cry. But if

the people we love are

gone, we keep them --

He taps Elly's temple, then his won.

ERIC

(CONT'D)

-- right here. It's a big

responsibility. And that makes it

okay to mourn.

(beat)

I know that if you weren't here,

I'd be

very sad.

Elly gives Eric a hug.

ELLY

You look funny without your

white

face on. Like it's your day off

or something.

He quizzical

expression amuses him.

ERIC

Somebody here wants to meet you. Gabriel?

 

Gabriel the cat has wandered near the fireplace to join them.

Elly is

immediately smitten. Happy.

ELLY

I remember him! Here, Gabriel...

here kitty... Gabriel... Is he

still yours?

ERIC

I think he's yours,

now.

The cat seems to like that idea. Elly wraps him hugely up in

her

arms, talking to him: "How're you, Gabriel, whatcha doin'"

ANOTHER ANGLE

- TIGHTER ON ERIC

While Elly is preoccupied with the cat, Eric gives up

his last

bit of Shelly to the fire - a portrait photo of her, small and

creased. He puts it in the fire, watches it burn for a beat,

then turns

to Elly.

ERIC (CONT'D)

I have something else for you.

BACK FOCUS as

Eric lifts off his neck Shelly's ring for Elly's

inspection. The ring

twirls large in f.g.

ELLY

Nobody ever gave me something like

that

before. Ever.

Eric places it around her neck. Elly BEAMS.

ERIC

Shelly would've wanted you to have

it. This way, you'll think of her

every time you see it...

ELLY

And she'll be alive. Up here.

Elly

TAPS her own temple with a smile, keeping one hand on the

ring.

CUT

TO:

 

 

 

 

EXT. STREET - DAY

Blowing wind. TRICK-OR-TREATERS wisp past.

Ghosts, witches,

demons out for Halloween.

ANGLE - CEMETERY FENCE

 

walking home with Gabriel zipped up inside her coat is Elly. A

fire

engine wails past in the opposite direction.

ANGLE - ELLY ON BROWNSTONE

STEPS

Strictly downscale building. Elly to Gabriel"

ELLY

You're

gonna like it here.

A car curbs across the street as she enters the

building.

ANGLE - PUSH IN ON CAR

as the window cranks down to reveal

Grange at the wheel.

 

INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY

Darla nervously

smoking, doing her best to stay clean, but

jittery. Elly enters the

shabby living room with Gabriel in her

arms.

 

DARLA

I was wonderin'

where you'd

gotten to --

(she sees Gabriel)

Oh, Elly, honey, a

cat. Here?

ELLY

He was a present. Besides, we're

moving anyway.

You said.

DARLA

We'll discuss this later.

Obviously. You left the

door open.

DARLA points. As Elly goes to close the door it opens.

NEW

ANGLE - FAVOR THE DOOR

Grange enters accompanied by two Asian martial

arts STRONGARMS

(Lao Guards #3 & #4). Grange looks around, bemused, his

manner

avuncular.

GRANGE

Hi, Elly. Remember me?

Elly's surprise is

evident. Darla is just plain pissed off.

DARLA

I don't remember you.

And I don't

remember inviting...

GRANGE

(to his MEN)

If she

opens her face again, shoot

her in the head.

ANGLE - DARLA

Mouth

stalling in the ON position as Lao Guard #3 pulls a

gigantic gun, draws

and cocks.

ELLY

(panicked)

Mom -- !

ANGLE - GUARD #4 AND ELLY

 

as he scoops her up, captive.

ANGLE - GRANGE AND GABRIEL

He strolls the

circuit of the room, stopping near the window.

GRANGE

You should

listen to your mother.

She said no cats.

Grange pitches Gabriel right

out the window.

ELLY

Gabriel!

Grange pulls out a compact Polaroid

camera.

GRANGE

Now that's the expression I want.

ANGLE - ELLY AND

GUARD #4

As she struggle mightily, to no avail, as Grange moves in to

snap his shot.

GRANGE (CONT'D)

Say cheese.

He snaps. On the SX-70

WHIRR and flash white-out, we --

 

EXT. LOFT BUILDING ROOFTOP - SUNSET

 

Dark clouds have gathered to highlight the sunset. Eric plays

the guitar

- LOUD, the SHelly theme in a major key. Where

before it was wandering,

uncertain, now it's bold and

heartbreaking. Definitive. Pain replaced

by strength and a

sense of homecoming.

As Eric gets to the end of it,

the notes are flying out... At

the climax, rips the guitar up over his

head and brings it

down -- SMASH -- on the Pignose. He's finished here.

 

ROOF EDGE - FROM STREET

as the broken guitar SAILS OUT over the building

edge.

INT. LOFT BUILDING STAIRWELL - DUSK

As Eric comes down the

stairs. Notices the open door.

 

INT. LOFT - DUSK

He enters,

cautiously, to find an envelope laying in the middle

of the floor. He

opens it.

INSERT - THE POLAROID OF ELLY

with a note.

UP ANGLE AT ERIC

READING THE NOTE - FROM FLOOR

The crow flies past behind him as his

expression hardens.

NEW ANGLE - A MOMENT LATER - FAST AND HARD

Eric

brutally crisscrosses his arms with black vinyl tape.

ANGLE - ERIC

DRESSING

Pulling on black night-fighting clothes, skintight.

ANGLE -

THE VANITY

as Eric (seen in mirror) jabs his fingers into the white

makeup and smears it on.

SMASH CUT TO:

 

EXT. STREET NEAR CEMETERY -

NIGHT

Eric marches along in plain view since everyone around him seems

to be in costume. The wind whips his coat. KIDS bustle around

him with

trick-or-treat bags. The crow perched on his shoulder.

ERIC'S POV -

CITY SKYLINE

Somewhere, a few blocks over, a building is burning.

ANGLE

- ERIC WALKING

A fire engine races past on the street. He steps out in

its

wake and crosses over to --

MEDIUM MOVING SHOT - THE CEMETERY

 

waiting for him as he crosses to the fence. Beyond the fence,

in the

distance, the church looms.

ANGLE - ERIC

He pauses. A KID in a

Creature from the Black Lagoon mask

comes, passes Eric, then comes back

for a touch.

CREATURE KID

Trick or treat!

Eric smiles. Not tonight.

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT

Eric is standing over the grave of Shelly Webster,

looking down.

He holds for a moment then moves on.

 

EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT

 

Eric ascends toward giant oak doors, tres Gothique. The crow

flaps past,

leading him.

NEW ANGLE - TOP OF STEPS -- where waits the Skull Cowboy.

As

Eric approaches, the Skull Cowboy interposes himself between

Eric and

the huge double doors.

Eric glares up, defiant. Moves up the steps.

The Skull Cowboy

extends a skeletal hand. STOP.

SKULL COWBOY

Stop

screwing around.

 

TIGHT ON ERIC

Angry, ready to battle: You talking to

me?

SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)

Your job is done. You interfere

with the

living again.

ERIC

Tell me I'll get hurt. That I

might die.

(beat)

I've already done that. I don't

need anyone's help. Yours

included.

STAIR ANGLE - ERIC AND SKULL COWBOY

Eric lower, Skull Cowboy

superior, the storm wild around them.

SKULL COWBOY

Do this thing and

you will be

vulnerable. The blood will not

return.

(beat)

No

powers. No reunion. Nothing.

ERIC

Fine with me.

He ADVANCES a step

up; the Skull Cowboy Hold fast.

SKULL COWBOY

You'll be alone.

ERIC

I'm already alone.

 

INT. BELL TOWER - NIGHT

Through a castle keep-like

slit, Grange monitors Eric's

arrival. He speaks into a headset.

GRANGE

We've got company.

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

Is he inside?

 

GRANGE'S POV - ERIC

Eric Talking to dead air. Almost arguing with it.

Eerie.

RESUME GRANGE

As he talks into his mike he hefts a nightscoped,

laser-sighted

sniper's rifle.

GRANGE

He's just out front talking to

himself. You tell me.

 

EXT. CHURCH - RESUMING ERIC ON STEPS - NIGHT

 

Eric, eyes steely, stares down the Skull Cowboy.

ERIC

Don't waste my

time.

SKULL COWBOY

Very well, it's your ass.

And the wind kicks up

around them both, powerfully.

ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY (EFFECT)

As the

force of the storm dust-devils around him and begins to

disassemble him.

The fire in his eye sockets goes out. His hat

flies off an is pulverized

by the wind. The garments begin to

disintegrate and blow around, rotten

cerements falling apart in

mid-air.

ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS -- transfixed

by this unexpected

development. A shard of the Skull Cowboy blows past

Eric's face

and transmutes to dust!

RESUME SKULL COWBOY AT TOP OF STEPS

(EFFECT)

Transparent, ancient bones, crumbling and blowing away.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

As Eric lunges for what's left of his

mysterious, smart-ass

mentor

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S LUNGING HAND

 

Meeting

only a swirl of vaporous dust where the Skull Cowboy's

heart would have

been.

TIGHT ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

He has time to register the dust in

his palm before it, too,

renders down to nothingness, leaving a vague

green glow that

dies. And as he looks to the sky --

UP ANGLE - THE CROW

 

flapping down to land on Eric's shoulder. Eric is astonished.

ERIC

But why are you still here?

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

No answer in the crow's

eyes.

RESUME AND FOLLOW ERIC

That's good enough for Eric. He marches

to the double doors and

shoves them back.

 

INT. CHURCH - AS ERIC COMES

THROUGH THE DOORS - NIGHT

The high breeze blows in with him, disturbing

dust in the

disused Gothic dark. Hollow cathedral ECHOES to sounds. A

giant 27" TV positioned on the alter, broadcasting static.

LONG SHOT -

ERIC AS HE APPROACHES THE ALTER - ("CROWVISION")

Leery of potential

danger from a thousand dark places.

ANGLE - THE TV - AS ERIC ENTERS

FRAME

Onscreen: Elly, gagged with duct tape and handcuffed to an iron

ring bolted to a flagstone wall. Could be anywhere inside the

church.

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

I believe our friend Elly call

you Mister Crow.

(beat)

Please acknowledge; the mike

will pick you up.

ERIC

I can

see her.

LAO

Of course you can.

ANGLE - GRANGE IN THE GALLERY -- in

darkness. The running

lights on his night-scoped, laser-sighted sniper's

rifle which

THROWS vague sprays of eerie red and green light.

LAO

(CONT'D; O.S./FILTERED)

Don't permit your rage to cloud

the issue. I

believe in barter.

I propose a simple trade.

Grange sights his weapon.

 

CROSSHAIR POV - ERIC AT THE ALTER

Bluring as Grange resights. Eric is

not the target. Blur

FINDS the crow at the far end of the nave, perched

in front of

a giant stained glass window.

NEW ANGLE - GRANGE --

squeezing off two quick, SILENCED shots.

ANGLE - STAINED GLASS WINDOW --

the first shot blows a hole in

some pastoral religious presentation.

TINKLE of glass.

ANGLE - ERIC -- Spinning at the quiet !pfut! sound, to

witness.

ANGLE - INCOMING DART - ("CROWVISION")

SPinning and hissing

venomously.

ANGLE - ERIC DUCKS

As before, but the crow is not as fast.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

As it catches the dart and goes down in a flurry

of feathers.

LOW ANGLE - ERIC AT ALTER - INCLUDE TV

His knees buckle.

Sympathetic PAIN from the hit.

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

You intended to

finish this

evening in the cemetery. I am

here to help you on your

way.

ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE IN GALLERY

Swapping his tranquilizer gun

for a more lethal rifle, similarly

scoped. He sights the fallen Eric in

a spray of green light.

HIGH ANGLE - HAND HELD - ERIC AT ALTER

Groping

for support to drag himself back to standing.

GRANGE (O.S.)

I've got

him if you want him.

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

No shooting.

GRANGE

(into headset)

Move in, guys.

HIGH ANGLE - THE SANCTUARY -- as Lao

Guards #3 and #4 move

into light, closing on Eric's position in the

center of isle.

Both wield calico's and one bears a sword.

CLOSE ANGLE -

ALTER -- Lao makes his entrance from shadow

wearing a brisk pugilist

get-up, a practical fighting outfit.

Makes a show of drawing the killing

blade.

LAO

I wish to possess what you have now.

ERIC

I want the

girl. Unharmed. Now.

LAO

I know. That is why I will

prevail. Mr.

Grange... ?

Eric CRAMPS UP, CLUTCHING his throat in obvious pain.

ANGLE

- GRANGE AT STAINED GLASS WINDOW

Holding the crow by the neck, TIGHTLY.

He plucks the tranq dart

from the its body.

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AS

LAO MOVES IN CLOSER

Crashing to one knee, invisibly bludgeoned,

struggling to

breathe. Lao has no fear, walking around the stricken

Eric.

LAO

Sooner or later, my action were

destined to bring me a

genuine

Fury. And it turned out to be you.

At last. I appreciate your

abilities as few mortals can.

That's why I desire them.

ERIC

You're

too late. There was a guy

outside - on the stairs - you

really need to

talk to. But he

turned to dust and blew away.

(beat, gasping)

I

don't have any power for you to take.

LAO

I don't believe that.

Lao

motions to Grange with the killing blade. Grange RELAXES

his deathgrip

on the crow. MOVE IN CLOSE on Eric so we may

perceive a palpable degree

of relief.

LAO (CONT'D)

Time for you to die for me.

(beat)

Funny, how the dead can still

bleed. How they need air.

Eric

IMMOBILIZED as Lao DRAWS BACK the Blade. To Grange:

LAO (CONT'D)

Break its neck.

ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE AT WINDOW as he prepares to do

dirty on

the bird.

Over his shoulder, we PUSH in to the BULLETHOLE from

the first

dart until we're in TIGHT CLOSE-UP of an eye watching through

the hole.

EXT. CHURCH - OBVERSE OF WINDOW - NIGHT

Albrecht digs through

a sling bag of weaponry, trying to

simultaneously monitor the peephole,

muttering sotto to

himself.

ALBRECHT

Had to go get yourself hip-deep

in

shit, didn't you, my friend.

It begins to rain. Albrecht glances

resentfully toward the

sky.

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Give it a rest, huh?

 

A hefts a machinegun, clipped over and under. CUTS LOOSE on

full auto

into the Madonna on the window.

 

INT. CHURCH NAVE - NIGHT

As the

window EXPLODES toward Grange and he sucks big hits from

behind, DROPPING

the crow. The bird hits the ground, flapping

weakly.

LAO GUARDS #3 & #4

exchange a look and whip up their Calicos,

RETURNING FIRE.

 

EXT. CHURCH

- NIGHT

Albrecht takes cover as a lot of religious stuff is noisily

destroyed all around his position. Chunks of the window

continue to

disintegrate.

 

INT. CHURCH ALTER (NIGHT)

Eric tuck-and-rolls out of

the way as we go CLOSE on Lao,

screaming.

LAO

I said no shooting!

 

Then he's ducking bullets himself as Albrecht STEPS IN through

the blown

out window, the machine gun stuttering on slugs.

The sanctuary comes

apart around Lao. He RETREATS to the alter

and EXITS whence he came.

 

TIGHT ON PEW -- ERIC DIVES just as Guard #4 comes after him with

the

sword, which chomps into the wood and gets stuck there.

Guard #4 releases

it and cross draws his Calico as ERIC springs

back into the frame --

STRAIGHT UP.

TIGHT ON GUARD #4 as Eric's lancing foot propels him

backward

before he can fire.

INTERCUTS -- ALBRECHT AND GUARD #3

scrambling to reload. Guard

changes magazine; Albrecht swaps clips.

 

ANGLE - DOWN LENGTH OF PEW -- Guard #4 slides. Sits up with his

gun as

Eric, down-pew, grabs the sword.

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT WINDOW firing now

with a gun in each hand.

RESUME ERIC AND GUARD #4, who eats it from

Albrecht's gunfire,

but not before he puts a round through Eric.

Eric

staggers back from the impact but keeps his feet.

RESUME ALBRECHT as

he tosses away the dry pistol. His machine

gun jams, he fights to get

the clip.

ANGLE - GUARD #3 -- reloaded and rising, having caught

Albrecht

dead-bang in the open by the window.

MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC

-- A complex leap with the sword

flashing. He lands near Guard #3 and

SLASHES UPWARDS, blade up.

CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3 -- screaming in pain,

gaping DOWN O.S.

TIGHT ON ALBRECHT - looking UP, following the

trajectory of

something AIRBORNE toward him.

CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3'S

Calico spinning mid-air with Guard #3s

HANDS still attached, severed

mid-forearm by Eric's devastating

strike.

ANGLE - ALBRECHT drops Guard

#3 -- to REVEAL Eric in the

background. Eric salutes Albrecht with the

tip of the sword.

WITH ALBRECHT as he moves into the nave, which has

been torn

apart by gunfire. Hazy smoke. Two dead guys. And Eric.

ALBRECHT

You sorta looked like you might

need my help.

ERIC

This

isn't your place. This isn't

your fight. And I don't need

your help.

ALBRECHT

You're welcome.

ERIC

Leave here. Don't do this. I

don't

want you here.

ALBRECHT

The hell you say. This isn't just

about

you any more.

Eric stares dead-on at Albrecht, acidly, then BREAKS the

Guard's

sword, dropping the pieces and turning his back on Albrecht, who

pursues Eric to:

 

INT. SPIRAL STAIRCASE - TO BELL TOWER - NIGHT

The

crow FLAPS UPWARD through the void. Eric grabs the thick

bellrope,

testing it. A final look to Albrecht.

ERIC

Don't interfere.

ALBRECHT

You're bleeding, man. You can't

make it.

Eric shinnies up

the bellrope, ignoring Albrecht.

ON ALBRECHT

Watching as Eric

dissappears from view, fast.. Grumbles.

ALBRECHT

You won't mind if I

just take the

stairs, then, smartass...

He hefts his arsenal bag of

hardware and begins to plod up the

steps.

ANGLE - MOVING WITH ERIC ON

THE ROPE -- A weird perspective of

speed climb. Zip! All the way to the

top.

EXT - CHURCH ROOF - NIGHT

Slanted, shingled, slippery, dark.

Lightning deep in the turbid

clouds. The crow circles as Eric RISES INTO

FRAME.

ERIC

Here I am.

DOWNFRAME lightning STRIKES the ornate

LIGHTNING ROD (large,

Victorian, lance-like) at the far end of the roof

from the bell

tower.

SILHOUETTING Lao and Elly standing in front of it.

Elly

flinches at the strike.

LAO

Can you fly, Crow man?

 

 

 

 

INT.

BELLTOWER SPIRAL STAIRS - RESUMING ALBRECHT

He stops his ascent to light

a cigarette.

ALBRECHT

I ain't cut out for this superhero

shit.

 

 

EXT. CHURCH ROOF - RESUMING LAO - NIGHT

Lao SNAPS Elly's free handcuff

to the dimly glowing lightning

rod and advances, one foot on either side

of the peak of the

roof, his blade brandished.

CLOSE MOVING SHOT - ERIC

-- Hands up to grapple, but

weaponless. He spiders to meet Lao, suddenly

PICKING UP SPEED

and RUNNING along the precarious peak.

Lao sees him

coming, braces to strike, but Eric executes a BROAD

FLYING LEAP right

over Lao's head.

ERIC LANDS, SLIPS, sprawls sideways, clinging to the

peak of the

roof. Lao hurries in to slash with the blade, as Eric

averts.

The steel RINGS. Eric converts his dodge into a low spin kick

that DUMPS Lao.

Eric SPREAD-EAGLES to keep from falling. Distantly, Lao

similarly saves himself.

NEW ANGLE -- THE FIGHT -- Here comes Lao,

crabbing back toward

the peak. Eric ROLLS to Elly's position, GRABS the

lightning

rod and tries to wrest it loose.

SIZZLE OF FLESH as Eric's

hands are scorched: the metal is still

blue-hot.

MOVING WITH LAO as Eric

battles to free the lightning rod. Lao

closes up distance, gives a

warcry and prepares to swing as -

Eric WRENCHES the rod loose and turns

to deflect Lao's blow.

The weapons spark as they meet... and there goes

Elly, her

handcuff freed, SLIDING DOWN THE ROOF SLOPE.

ANGLE -- ROOF

SLOPE -- WITH ERIC as he dodges Lao by using the

lightning rod to vault

down to where Elly is about to slip off

the roof.

With the rod embedded

in the roof, Eric hangs on, and elly hangs

on to Eric.

UP ANGLE -- LAO,

a dark figure against the night sky, raising

the sword.

LAO

Face me!

 

Eric guides Elly to the top of one of the flying buttresses.

When he

looks up, Lao is gone.

ANGLE - BELL TOWER -- Albrecht's head pokes up at

last. Looks

around, finally spots Eric below and to the left. YELLS,

serio-comic.

ALBRECHT

Is he dead yet?

INSERT - ALBRECHT'S HOLSTER as

Lao's hand draws Albrecht's

gun quickly.

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND LAO --Lao

has blindsided Albrecht.

LAO

No. You are.

He jams the gun into the

base of ALbrecht's neck and fires three times.

CLOSE ANGLE - ERIC - He's

too far away to matter. Shock.

INSERT - ALBRECHT'S CIGARETTE as it

rolls down the slope,

trailing sparks, snuffing out.

ANGLE - ERIC

holding onto the lightning rod as lightning CUTS the

night above him.

 

ANGLE -- LAO AT BELL TOWER, triumphant and a bit wild, SHOUTING.

LAO

You've caused another death,

Mister Draven! The girl will die

as well

-- because of you!

ANGLE - ELLY ON FLYING BUTTRESS

The base of a

triangle - Lao, Eric, Elly.

ELLY

You go to hell, you pervert!

RESUME

ERIC

Rage over the loss of Albrecht. He RISES, hurting but mad as

hell.

GLARES UP toward Lao.

ERIC

And how many lives have you destroyed?

LAO

I took yours from you. Your

little girlfriend? I took hers,

too.

Your meaningless, petty

life? I took it so that tonight

your existence

might gain a

purpose. You're no avenger.

You're mine.

PUSH IN TIGHT

ON ERIC.

Eyes alight with hatred for Lao.

ERIC

(to himself)

You're right, I'm not an avenger.

Not any more.

As lightning strikes,

Eric Fires his gaze TOWARD THE SKY.

HIGH ANGLE - LAO ON ROOFTOP -

("CROWVISION")

SEEING the crash dive toward Lao through the row's eyes.

 

ANGLE - LAO ON ROOFTOP

As the crow wings down INTO FRAME and lights on

Lao's head, CLAWING!

CLOSE-UP -- THE CROW ON LAO'S HEAD slashing with

its claws.

Pecking out Lao's eyes.

WITH ERIC -- on the roofslope as he

totters but maintains his

climb, the crow/Lao UPFRAME B.G.

RESUME LAO --

as the crow abandons him. Lao STAGGERS AND FALLS

down the roof - toward

Eric.

SLANTED ANGLE -- ERIC AND LAO -- Eric ARRESTS Lao's fall,

fisting

lapels and bringing him nose to nose. Fury.

ERIC

Time for a

sacrifice.

Lao's face is a hideous bloody mask with black holes where

the

eyes used to be. He smiles gruesomely.

LAO

I don't need eyes to

take what I

want from you.

He EMBRACES Eric and RAMS the killing blade

deep into Eric's

back!

ON ERIC as he looks down to see the blade

protruding from his

sternum. Tight grimace. A lot of pain.

ERIC

Can

you fly?

He pulls Lao into a BACKWARD ROLL down the roof, HOLDING HIM

TIGHT.

MOVING ANGLE -- INTERCUTS -- ERIC AND LAO FALL

Eric lands on his

back, forcing the blade THROUGH himself and

INTO Lao. Eric completes the

roll and KICKS Lao off INTO SPACE,

the killing blade still embedded in

him!

WITH LAO as crashes, sliding, sprawling down PAST Elly's

position.

Gets to his knees atop the flying buttress. Sees the

blade in his own

chest.

CLOSE-UP - ELLY - she sees it all happen.

RESUME LAO - a

regretful look toward Eric. He PLUMMETS off the

roof edge.

ANGLE -

ERIC SLIDES DOWN ROOF -- He slows, stopping when Elly

is in frame. He

clutches his own chest. Regards his own

shaking hand, drenched in his

won blood. Glazed.

ON ELLY, as she finally gets the duct tape off her

mouth, trying

to get to Eric. She flails and cries out.

ELLY

Don't

let me fall!

CLOSE-UP -- their hands finally meet and GRASP TIGHT.

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (LATER) (RAIN)

A low angle TRACKING SHOT (as when

we first met Elly).

Eric's and Elly's feet pass graves. Eric's pace is

slow, crippled,

limping. They STOP at a grave where elly BENDS INTO

FRAME to steal

the flowers there.

Eric is bloody and out of it. She

helps him walk.

ELLY

Now do you get to see her? Shelly, I mean.

ERIC

In a better place. I hope.

ELLY

You're not gonna come back,

are you?

Eric's response is halting and uncertain. But he tries to give

her hope. He reaches for Shelly's ring around her neck, holds

it up to

her.

ERIC

I don't know if I can. But you

have this... and you know

where to come.

ELLY

You mean you'll, like' dig your way

out of the

grave? Euww.

Eric is amused by this in spite of his grievous injuries.

 

He grasps Elly's face in his hands and bends, painfully,to kiss

her on

the forehead.

ERIC

For you, I'll try. Promise.

MOVE WITH ERIC

 

Spent, empty, he holds the rose determinedly, but he's never

going to

make it the few yards back to his own grave. So close.

His legs finally

go and he collapses onto the humus. One

groping hand tries to drag him

further.

ERIC

Leave me now.

ANGLE - ELLY

Tears on her face. She

can't watch this. She TURNS and drops

the flowers on Shelly's grave.

 

ERIC'S POV - HIS OWN GRAVE

Still too far away to matter.

RESUME ERIC ON

GROUND

He gives it up, his face sinking into the wet grass for a beat

before SHELLY'S HAND intrudes INTO FRAME to GRASP his hand.

No ethereal

glow, no heavenly choir... just a near-dead Eric's

blank-faced

astonishment, and he moves forward.

ANGLE - ELLY - SHELLY'S GRAVE BG

 

She struggles to get her hood up against the rain and roughly

wipes the

moisture from her face with her sleeve. She turns

toward Eric's grave.

Then, surprised, she looks close.

ANGLE - ERIC'S GRAVE

Eric is gone.

The white rose lies neatly on the top of the

undisturbed earth there.

 

HIGH ANGLE - CEMETERY

Emphasizing that Elly is now ALONE in the

graveyard.

LOW ANGLE on Elly, ROSE in the foreground --

She walks OFF.

HOLD the rose.

CUT TO:

 

INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY (OVERCAST)

A

grey day but no rain. Elly stands wistfully by the window,

her doll on

standby. The apartment is in order and perhaps we

notice a few new

items. Gabriel the cat, miraculously ALIVE, is

sprawled on a chair,

licking himself. Darla BUSTLES INTO FRAME

B.G. Her wardrobe more

upscale, her hair done. Her manner is

hectic but natural.

DARLA

Worktime, kiddo. First day, new

job, gotta go.

This does not get the

expected smile from Elly.

DARLA (CONT'D)

You sure you're gonna be

okay?

Elly turns from the window and NODS silently.

ELLY'S POV -

OUTSIDE

The aforementioned grey day in the city.

ANGLE - DARLA AND ELLY

AT THE WINDOW.

Darla comes up. Arm around Elly. Cheer up; he attitude

much

more connected and loving. PUSH IN ON ELLY so we know she is

clutching SHelly's ring tightly in her hand. Darla looks past

Elly, out

the window.

DARLA

At least it finally stopped

raining.

ELLY

It

can't rain all the time.

Darla kisses Elly on the temple and it out the

door. Elly OPENS

her hand to consider the ring. She looks back out the

window --

ANGLE - THE CROW ON THE LEDGE

Elly is looking right at it.

Same crow. We're positive. So is

Elly. It TAKES WING and flies away.

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

An UP ANGLE from Eric's grave toward the tree as the

crow FLIES

INTO FRAME and perches there, shucking water. PUSH IN on the

crow. Watching. Waiting.

SLOW FADE TO DEAD BLACK.

</PRE>

<H1 ALIGN=CENTER>THE END</H1>

 

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