e17 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 co
190
p, 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 h
fa0
e

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 t
190
he 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 - 
fa0
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 NOI
190
SE 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 t
fa0
hem.



                        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, 
190
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 
fa0
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 
190
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 ap
fa0
proach.





                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 wa
190
its.



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
fa0
 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



Win
190
cing.  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 th
fa0
e 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

190

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 th
fa0
e

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 han
190
ds 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.



           
fa0
     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...



190

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.  Everythin
fa0
g 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.



                ALBRE
190
CHT

        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 s
fa0
hit 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 B
190
EHIND 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

 
fa0
       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

        A
190
nd 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 T
fa0
HREATENING - 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 
190
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?



        
fa0
        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,

     
190
   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. 
fa0
 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
190
'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. A
fa0
re 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 floo
190
r

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 reve
fa0
rse 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
190
 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 Fun
fa0
boy.





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 sh
190
e'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-S
fa0
HOT - 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
190
 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.



               
fa0
 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

 
190
       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
fa0
-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 e
190
verything.  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.



Gr
fa0
ange 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-fr
190
ied 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 L
fa0
AIR - 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.
190




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.



              
fa0
  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 polic
190
e 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 o
fa0
pen

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 t
190
he 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 loo
fa0
k.



                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)

        Wh
190
o 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 s
fa0
moke 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 s
190
he'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.


fa0


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
190
 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
fa0
 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 bo
190
lted 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
fa0
 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
190
 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 o
fa0
n

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.




190
                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 lig
fa0
ht 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 -
190
- 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 nee
fa0
d 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.

190



                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 ar
474
ound 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.  FA

        

                        THE END




This script was found in INFlow. It was shameless taken off from somewhere else, may god, copyright owners and people who worked hard and were not credited forgive us.


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