~ In the morning ...
The Hunter walks through the smashed door. "Jesus Christ." To the lead on the couch, "You know I'd have expected you guys to use a lock-pick.
Lead - Puts down the coffee (the Hunter eyes the stupid mug), "Local hires."
Hunter - "Why would Interpol need local door crashers ?"
Lead - "Because, like the video you saw with your chief, the entire story, it's all a fake."
The Hunter walks through the smashed door. "Jesus Christ." To the lead on the couch, "You know I'd have expected you guys to use a lock-pick.
Lead - Puts down the coffee (the Hunter eyes the stupid mug), "Local hires."
Hunter - "Why would Interpol need local door crashers ?"
Lead - "Because, like the video you saw with your chief, the entire story, it's all a fake."
Hunter - "No it's not."
____
Dealer - "Yesss My dear Miserella, yes it is." Sets the painting down and moves on to the next.
____
Lead - "No. It's not."
____
Bets - Leans into Miserella's ear and whispers, "He'll try to buy it later for way cheaper, saying it's still a high quality reproduction."
Miserella - (wearing a 20 foot gown) "I knew I hated this guy." Walks to the painting and puts her foot through it, looks to the dealer's stunned eyes, "Next time you want to talk that shit to me we all watch another masterpiece die, I've got plenty to spare. Next one."
Dealer - "Needs restoration."
Miserella - Examines it closer, "How much ?" Pulls a switchblade and switches it.
Bets - "Where the fuck did you even get that."
Lawyer - Clears his throat, "One hundred thousand."
Miserella - "On ?"
Lawyer - "One million plus at auction. I get twenty percent."
Miserella - "Sold !"
________________
The rear cargo door kicks open, the compartment flooding with dogs, the cloaked man extending bladed arms and cutting away. Gunfire flashing through the windows as seen from outside the plane at night from the responding security as he works his way, dogs leaping for throats amid the decompression paperwork. A head flies by the ports, followed by a dog trying to catch it.
Makes the cockpit, the terrified pilot and co with the attendants alone remaining.
Switchblade - To the nearest attendant, "Descend we do leave your corpses to fate, if you've got left a reason to slate then fate will create for you, a way to see this through, if only that evil you lack."
Looks out the cockpit glass as the ground approaches.
He stabs the controls through with one arm after the other into the pilot's and co's stations.
The eyes go wide as they all turn to for the back, tripping over dogs and body pieces, a stewardess is overcome by the moment and carnage, falls apart and just screams ...
~ Engines burst to flames.
Air crews in the padded steel crates, the lids slam shut. The rescue trucks depart their garages, ground crews to station.
~ Wings crumple, now just a complete fireball.
(2:30) It scrapes ground with no gear down, skidding with a bounce and a spin, wreckage in the air as a sealed cargo container filled with screaming attendants flies spinning by the camera's view.
____
Miserella - "There goes the Renoir ... "
Bets - Watches with concern as a couple of rottweilers run by ... "A Renoir would feed this many dogs for like a month."
Miserella - "Fuck !"
____________
Hunter - Straightening his tie in the shitty motel mirror, "Now do you believe in monsters ?"
Woman (from before) - Walks up behind and fixing his collar, she whispers in his ear with the voice on the phone from the beginning. "I don't believe in shit." And suddenly he's behind her, she looks back, "Neither God nor the devil." He puts the flip razor to her throat, a tear from her eye. "But yes I do believe in monsters."
Hunter - Whispers in her ear with a hand sliding around her throat, "One more call."
Woman - Terrified, "And then we're done ?"
Hunter - Cuts a strap from her slip and smiles, "And then we're done."
~ Miserella washes examines her face in the bathroom mirror at the coffee shop, looks down to wash her hands and looks up as the Hunter slashes her throat from behind. Then gone with no wound left but a definitive red stripe set into flesh.
The Hunter walks new streets smoking, watches an airplane descend for landing overhead ...
Smoking in the crowd, past homeless camps and burning protests, police beatings and murder, sunglasses on. A police shootout at the bank as the Hunter walks between the bullets, passing just before the panic explosion.
____
Dealer - "Yesss My dear Miserella, yes it is." Sets the painting down and moves on to the next.
____
Lead - "No. It's not."
____
Bets - Leans into Miserella's ear and whispers, "He'll try to buy it later for way cheaper, saying it's still a high quality reproduction."
Miserella - (wearing a 20 foot gown) "I knew I hated this guy." Walks to the painting and puts her foot through it, looks to the dealer's stunned eyes, "Next time you want to talk that shit to me we all watch another masterpiece die, I've got plenty to spare. Next one."
Dealer - "Needs restoration."
Miserella - Examines it closer, "How much ?" Pulls a switchblade and switches it.
Bets - "Where the fuck did you even get that."
Lawyer - Clears his throat, "One hundred thousand."
Miserella - "On ?"
Lawyer - "One million plus at auction. I get twenty percent."
Miserella - "Sold !"
________________
Hunter - "He's a man. Disfigured. Lost. And probably in a lot of pain."
Lead - A laugh to himself leaning back, he takes the cup and drinks, Hunter eying the cup. "Sure. Two outta three, but he's not lost. There is a pattern. These men do have commonality."
Hunter - "Then why haven't you intercepted him ?"
Lead - "Because it's a very common, commonality. They're perverts. Pedophiles. Rapists of children. But unfortunately we only know about it looking postmortem. When it all come out. Now. What we've seen is, that the victims knew he was coming for them, so they know that commonality. One event."
Hunter - "Like one particular girl ? Girl ?"
Lead - "Yes, it seems most likely to have been a female child."
Hunter - "Have been ? Was there a body ?"
Lead - "No. Or maybe. Frankly there's been a lot of bodies, it's hard to say. But these murders started ten years ago, she'd probably be an adult by now. She may not even have a clue."
____
Miserella - "I don't even know where those dogs fucking came from."
____
The woman's voice on the phone - "Of course. But it will cost."
Desperate sounding man - "Of course it will cost. About as much as you do. Arrange it."
Pilot comm chatter as a large private plane descends for landing ~
Lead - A laugh to himself leaning back, he takes the cup and drinks, Hunter eying the cup. "Sure. Two outta three, but he's not lost. There is a pattern. These men do have commonality."
Hunter - "Then why haven't you intercepted him ?"
Lead - "Because it's a very common, commonality. They're perverts. Pedophiles. Rapists of children. But unfortunately we only know about it looking postmortem. When it all come out. Now. What we've seen is, that the victims knew he was coming for them, so they know that commonality. One event."
Hunter - "Like one particular girl ? Girl ?"
Lead - "Yes, it seems most likely to have been a female child."
Hunter - "Have been ? Was there a body ?"
Lead - "No. Or maybe. Frankly there's been a lot of bodies, it's hard to say. But these murders started ten years ago, she'd probably be an adult by now. She may not even have a clue."
____
Miserella - "I don't even know where those dogs fucking came from."
____
The woman's voice on the phone - "Of course. But it will cost."
Desperate sounding man - "Of course it will cost. About as much as you do. Arrange it."
Pilot comm chatter as a large private plane descends for landing ~
('God's Gonna Cut You Down' by Johnny Cash)
The rear cargo door kicks open, the compartment flooding with dogs, the cloaked man extending bladed arms and cutting away. Gunfire flashing through the windows as seen from outside the plane at night from the responding security as he works his way, dogs leaping for throats amid the decompression paperwork. A head flies by the ports, followed by a dog trying to catch it.
Makes the cockpit, the terrified pilot and co with the attendants alone remaining.
Switchblade - To the nearest attendant, "Descend we do leave your corpses to fate, if you've got left a reason to slate then fate will create for you, a way to see this through, if only that evil you lack."
Looks out the cockpit glass as the ground approaches.
...
Switchblade - "Or you might try the crates we hid in, in the back." Smiles as the runway lights approach.
('Lost at Birth' by Public Enemy)
He stabs the controls through with one arm after the other into the pilot's and co's stations.
The eyes go wide as they all turn to for the back, tripping over dogs and body pieces, a stewardess is overcome by the moment and carnage, falls apart and just screams ...
Air crews in the padded steel crates, the lids slam shut. The rescue trucks depart their garages, ground crews to station.
~ Wings crumple, now just a complete fireball.
(2:30) It scrapes ground with no gear down, skidding with a bounce and a spin, wreckage in the air as a sealed cargo container filled with screaming attendants flies spinning by the camera's view.
____
Miserella - "There goes the Renoir ... "
Bets - Watches with concern as a couple of rottweilers run by ... "A Renoir would feed this many dogs for like a month."
Miserella - "Fuck !"
____________
Hunter - Straightening his tie in the shitty motel mirror, "Now do you believe in monsters ?"
Woman (from before) - Walks up behind and fixing his collar, she whispers in his ear with the voice on the phone from the beginning. "I don't believe in shit." And suddenly he's behind her, she looks back, "Neither God nor the devil." He puts the flip razor to her throat, a tear from her eye. "But yes I do believe in monsters."
Hunter - Whispers in her ear with a hand sliding around her throat, "One more call."
Woman - Terrified, "And then we're done ?"
Hunter - Cuts a strap from her slip and smiles, "And then we're done."
~ Miserella washes examines her face in the bathroom mirror at the coffee shop, looks down to wash her hands and looks up as the Hunter slashes her throat from behind. Then gone with no wound left but a definitive red stripe set into flesh.
('The Wind' by PJ Harvey)
The Hunter walks new streets smoking, watches an airplane descend for landing overhead ...
Smoking in the crowd, past homeless camps and burning protests, police beatings and murder, sunglasses on. A police shootout at the bank as the Hunter walks between the bullets, passing just before the panic explosion.
Hunter - "God I love this town." Looks at his watch. "Like a drill-bit through the skull."
~ He screams with the dated drill's motor, trying to break the gurney straps as it enters through just behind the ear, eyes straining to see.
Looks at his watch again, a smile as his phone rings ...
Chief - On the cell, "We've got a talker."
Hunter - Looking around with a smile, "Already there."
~ He screams with the dated drill's motor, trying to break the gurney straps as it enters through just behind the ear, eyes straining to see.
Looks at his watch again, a smile as his phone rings ...
Chief - On the cell, "We've got a talker."
Hunter - Looking around with a smile, "Already there."