THE BLACK SCRIPT (Part 2 of 2)
It’s real. I can’t believe it’s all real. I broke down in tears again: tears for Serena, and tears for the realization of the horror that these scripts had manifested into my life. What is poor Gladys going to think?
That night I couldn’t sleep. I wrestled with my sheets, tossed and turned endlessly. I remember seeing the morning light split through my drapes before ever closing my eyes. At some point I realized that I must have dozed off, if only for an hour or two, for I was eventually woken by a knock on my apartment door.
After laboring out of my bedroom, I opened the door to see that it was Gladys who had knocked. As terrible as I felt, she looked even worse.
“Have you seen Serena? She didn’t come home last night and hasn’t answered any of my calls. I’m starting to get really worried. She always responds after an hour or so.” Her eyes were swelling up with tears.
My voice cracked, and I felt an intense sadness. “No, I…I um…” My face was reddening. “I haven’t heard anything. I don’t know.”
Gladys sniffled, and then wiped her nose with a napkin. “Ok. I’m sure everything is fine, I’m just so worried. Please let me know if you hear anything. Please.”
“Ok I will.” Look at me, lying to her. I’m the worst person imaginable.
“Do you want any breakfast? You said you would come over before work today.” She sniffled again, but tried to maintain a cheerful composure. “Eggs and bacon.”
I opened my mouth and could feel myself preparing to respond, but in that moment I began to feel something else as well. It’s here, I thought. It’s right over there in the mail slot. I have to open it. I have to see what’s on there. I have to know. “I’m so sorry, I’m just not feeling well today. I don’t even think I’m going to make it to work.”
After Gladys disappeared into her unit, I grabbed my mail and rushed inside. I singled out the large black envelope and sat down on my couch. Yes…this is what I was waiting for. I unfolded the contents inside and read the title page.
Title:
August 18th, 2022
Written by:
The Puppet Master
I came to the realization that up to that point I had yet to read any of the scripts ahead of what had already happened to me. This was the first day that I changed that.
It opened with me tossing and turning in bed until morning came, sleeping for an hour and thirty two minutes, and then getting woken up by a knock on my door. After my word for word conversation with Gladys, I hurry back inside to read the script on my couch. Eventually, I drop the script onto my floor, hands trembling, and pace around my living room in circles. Later, I gather my things in pursuit of leaving my apartment, but upon opening the door and peaking my head out, I immediately draw myself back inside in fear. I pace around for another period of time before trying to sleep again, but my attempt is futile. I toss and turn for a while until there’s another knock on my door, and this time it’s not Gladys, it’s a police detective: Agent Victoria Solando. For about half a page I greet her and let her into my apartment, until…
CUT TO:
INT. AARON’S KITCHEN - NIGHT
Aaron walks over to the kitchen and proceeds to fill up a glass with water. He takes a sip.
AGENT SOLANDO: “When was the last time you saw Serena?”
For a long silent moment, Aaron stands there frozen. There’s a CLOSE UP of his hand trembling. Ripples move atop the water in his glass. Agent Solando looks at him curiously.
AGENT SOLANDO: “I’ve been told you work as a screenwriter downtown. Isn’t Serena’s university close to your office?”
Aaron doesn’t move a muscle, but his face shows a deal of great effort as if he holds an unbearable weight. The tremor in his hand intensifies. There is a length of silence, and Agent Solando appears annoyed.
AGENT SOLANDO: “Your neighbor Gladys said the two of you sometimes share a subway out of the city in the evenings.” (pauses) “I’m not going to hide it from you: there is security footage of a young man pushing a young woman in front of a train last night at the station on 10th and Washington. The female matches Serena’s body type on all accounts. The man appears to have build not too dissimilar from yours.”
After hearing this Aaron turns and stares at the detective, his eyes full of pure hatred. His features slowly morph into something unnatural, until his appearance reaches near deformity. His face, misshapen, shows true deviance…true evil. He speaks, but his voice sounds deeper than normal: harsher, more guttural.
AARON: “I saw her last night. I pushed her off that ledge.” (gives a sinister smile) “It was so easy, so natural.”
He finally moves. He begins walking towards the detective, staring all the while, never blinking.
AARON: (harshly) “I saw her fall to the ground just before the train hit. I heard her pathetic scream. I saw her body tear apart. I watched her die.”
Aaron looks at the glass of water in his hand.
AARON: “And I’ll watch you die.”
Aaron SLAMS the glass against his kitchen counter. It splits to pieces. He grabs the longest shard and lunges at Agent Solando with surprising speed. Her hand reaches for her holstered gun, but she’s not quick enough.
Aaron shoves the shard deep into the middle of her neck. She falls to the floor, blood gushing out of the wound. Aaron stands there staring, smiling.
No…no it can’t be. It won’t be. I won’t do it. My hands couldn’t bear the heaviness of the script any longer. I let it fall to the floor.
I immediately began to pace around my living room, my mind twisted in knots. This time it’s different, I thought. This time I have the chance to know what’s written before it happens. This time I have a choice. I didn’t know how long I had been pacing, but my feet began to hurt. It can’t happen if I’m not here for it to happen.
I grabbed my keys, threw on some clothes, and went to leave my apartment to go somewhere…anywhere. I opened my door and went to take my first step, but a noise held me in place: it was Gladys. I could hear her talking to someone. “My neighbor Aaron knows her as well.” I peaked my head outside to look and caught a glimpse of her speaking with two police officers. In that precise moment she pointed over in my direction. I withdrew myself immediately, but before I disappeared from view and shut my door, I was almost certain that one of them had seen me.
I felt trapped. I knew that I wanted to get out of there, but the more I thought about it the riskier it seemed to walk out in public. I contemplated this for a while apparently, because at some point I realized it was starting to get dark out. Was I pacing around my kitchen this whole time? My memory was foggy. I think the lack of sleep was starting to get to my head, and instinct pulled me into my bed to attempt to get some shut eye.
My mind wandered in oblivion for an unmeasurable amount of time, never asleep but never truly awake. I had waking dreams, visions of Serena falling over and over. At some point I heard someone knocking at my door. I’m so thirsty. I had gone without drinking anything for over 24 hours. That was the only thing I could think about. That, and sleep. I was only half-conscious when I opened the door and saw a woman standing on the other side; she was one of the two I had seen earlier talking to Gladys. Her uniform was adorned with a gun at her hip, and her demeanor demanded obedience.
“I’m agent Victoria Solando with precinct 209. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions regarding the disappearance of Serena Stillwater.”
“Of course…come in.” Thirsty, I’m so thirsty.
I found myself filling a glass with water. After taking a sip, I realized that something was nagging at my mind. The script. I’m so tired I had forgotten about the detective in the script. I finally remembered the horror of which I had read earlier. I looked at the glass in my hand. No…No I won’t do it…I won’t…
“When was the last time you saw Serena?”
I tried to speak, tried to tell Agent Solando to leave before it was too late, but I couldn’t. It was as if there was no air in my lungs at all. Even more terrifying: I couldn’t move. Something came over me, some terrible power that I find hard to describe.
“I’ve been told you work as a screenwriter downtown. Isn’t Serena’s university close to your office?”
At first I tried everything possible to set the glass down on the counter, or to force out a word or two of warning, but as Agent Solando continued talking I slowly noticed that my patience was beginning to run short with her. Talking without end. All she does is talk. I realized I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t listen to her for one more second. I was filled with some kind of unprovoked contempt. I hate her. I caught the end of what she was saying: “The female matches Serena’s body type on all accounts. The man appears to have a build not too dissimilar from yours.”
Did she just fucking accuse me? I stared into her eyes. Of course she did, look at her…she thinks she’s better than me. She wouldn’t even believe me if I was telling the truth.
I finally spoke, and when I did, the words came out with a force I had never felt before. “I saw her last night. I pushed her off that ledge.” I could feel the blood moving through my veins as I talked. I could feel it’s power coursing through my skin. “It was so easy, so natural.”
I could feel my pupils dilating…could feel my face contorting…twisting…”I saw her fall to the ground just before the train hit. I heard her pathetic scream. I saw her body tear apart. I watched her die.”
I slammed the glass of water onto the countertop, withdrew the longest shard. “And I’ll watch you die.” I lunged at her. She attempted to grab her gun, but it was futile. So weak. I shoved the shard deep into her neck, and she fell to the ground. A growing circle of black-red contrasted itself against the kitchen floor. I smiled.
Slowly, very slowly, the smile receded, and I fell to the floor helpless…tears streaming down my face. I sat there in the blood, looking at my hands, looking at the body of the innocent woman just a couple of feet away, and I began to sob. Why is this happening to me?
For a long time I sat there, crying, until I felt completely numb. The blood had soaked into my clothes and had stained my hands red. It’s Wednesday night. It’s still Wednesday night. I was starting to gain focus again, but at the same time the edges of my vision seemed to be dancing. Everything seemed to be moving, and every once in a while I would notice something, only to find that there was nothing there once I stared directly at it. Hallucinations. I need to get some sleep.
I grabbed the script off of the floor where I had dropped it earlier, simply just to see if I was allowed to sleep at all…to see if the script would let me. To my dismay, I was not granted any rest. After sitting in the blood for a couple of hours it described me showering, changing, and then reserving a hotel room downtown. Why would I get a hotel room? It didn’t matter. I decided just to get to it, not even finishing the last couple of pages. It’s just easier if I do what it says willingly, I realized. I don’t want to feel that terrible power come over me again, moving my limbs for me when I refuse to.
Hours later I stood there in the hotel room, broken, staring at my reflection in a mirror next to the window. I no longer looked like myself: my face was sunken, dark bags hung under my eyes, and my eyes themselves looked clearly as if they had seen a great sadness. The worst part of all was that I felt nothing; I no longer had the capacity to feel at all. I no longer cared where the envelopes were coming from or who the puppet master was. I no longer worried myself with the “why’s” or “how’s”. I was so broken that there was no going back. I could never forget the unforgivable things that I had done, the crimes I had committed, nor the blood that I had spilt.
Now, morning has come, and a large black envelope has been slipped under the hotel room door just as I expected it would. I’ve read the words. I know what will happen. And I can finally rest knowing that I won’t have to suffer for much longer. Either way, I have no choice.
Title:
August 19th, 2022
Written by:
The Puppet Master
FADE IN:
INT. THE PLAZA ROOM 1208 - EARLY MORNING
AARON stands looking at himself in the mirror. He sees a disfigured face stare back at him, a face full of deep despair. The big hand on the wall-mounted clock spins and spins, and light spills into the room. Aaron stands there all the while staring at himself.
TRANSITION:
INT. THE PLAZA ROOM 1208 - MORNING
Morning light exposes the bodies of two male police officers laying mutilated atop a queen-sized bed.
A black rectangle juxtaposes itself against the light gray carpet next to the hotel room door. Aaron walks over, picks it up, and unearths the contents inside. His eyes glance over the silver ink with no emotion. After a few moments, he walks apathetically towards a desk next to the hotel room window.
He slides a slim laptop out of his backpack and opens it onto the desk. We get a MONTAGE consisting of different shots: all of them of Aaron typing. As he types, the light pouring through the window softens; the room brightens with the warmth of day.
TRANSITION:
INT. THE PLAZA ROOM 1208 - DAY
Aaron closes the laptop with a look of grave acceptance. He sets it on a side table, picks up the desk chair he was sitting on, and slams it through the hotel room window. The glass SHATTERS; fragments split apart and fall towards the street below. Jagged peaks rise from the bottom of the frame. Aaron steps onto them and looks down. Blood trickles off the ledge, sending dark fingers down the stone underneath. He steps off without a hint of resignation.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE PLAZA HOTEL - DAY
Aaron falls towards the black pavement below. His body picks up speed and there’s a loud RUSHING of air as the wind whips at his blood-stained shirt.
Aaron SMASHES into a black car, sending the roof caving in; dark ripples reflect the sunlight above. His body lays there deformed and mangled. We get a CLOSE UP of his face: his eyes, wide open, stare up emptily towards a cloudless sky.
FADE TO BLACK