Crow, The


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. 

                         THE END






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