SUPERNATURAL-ISH Transcript Fiction ^^

ceux qui savent pas c'est quoi ça un transcript fiction, et bien c'est just d'imaginer le script d'une émission fictive comme voici:
si vous avez un moindre tit comment, bah n'ayez pas peur de le poster àla suite, çca changera rien


TEASER

EXT—Police Department 4, Day

[A medium size building of red brick stuck between two other city offices, a few pedestrians pass by on the sidewalk, some police cars parked in front of the department. Zoom on the sign “Police department, Providence” and on the American flag on its side]

INT— Police Department 4

[In the interrogation room, cement walls of cold grey-ish colours, neon lights slightly wheezing, a dull brown table in the middle where is sitting a Latino young man, handcuffed to the table. He looks bored and looks around, then sights dramatically when he hears the door opening. Jonathan comes in, in his black Rhodes Island State police full uniform without the cap, looking down on some papers]

Jonathan:
So, what we got here…
(He reads the top of the document, clearly acting like he does’nt know his case, then turns it over and throws it on the table, before staring at the Latino, crossing his arms on his chest)
Daniel “El Feo” Gomez, 25 Y-O, from a family quite known by the police, we still got their criminal résumé in our file…
(Humouring him)
Pretty impressive what you did, all those li’ll typical small-town diner robberies of yours… Now that’s what I call art! And how we found you back, hiding just behind the building, it was bril-liant!

Gomez:
(Mumbling)
Puerco… estupido hijo de puta…

Jonathan:
(Eying him slyly, ignoring the insults)
Tell me, weren’t you trying to get more money, because…
(He pauses, innocently and falsely placating)
I mean, I assumed that with your drug business, you should have already enough of it… I ain’t saying you actually are doing lame attempt to get rich… Well…not rolling in a golden Hummer yet, uh? … What am I saying, nope that’s kinda awkward…

[Gomez rolls eyes then see the weapon Jonathan was carrying, glancing between the door and Jonathan’s gun sheath. Jonathan sure notices it and ducks his head on the side, amused and still cunningly looking]

Jonathan:
(Mockingly, but more serious)
I wouldn’t try if I were you… And, say: you’re not it the right position to try to get away like this, trust me, boy. Things are really gonna get worst, it’s not just vain threats.

Gomez:
(Angrily groaning)
Voy a te matar, te lo digo puerco de mierda, Voy a te matar !

Jonathan:
(Humoring him in with sarcasm, acting some exasperated gesturing)
Yeah yeah, alright, you nearly got your point there… I know that ‘cause you’re all sayin’ the same: you’re going to kill me, I’m a Hella cop and you all somehow end up disliking my mother at the point you feel like thinking she has absolutely something to do with prostitution…

Gomez:
(Utterly surprised, with a Spanish accent)
You understand me?

Jonathan:
(Smirking)
Y’know that’s how it is when you got that kind of job; gotta deal with all sort of people…
(Mockingly)
Like right now, I’m kind of learning Chinese: quite interesting when you’re really into it…

[He uncrosses his arms and walks toward the table, grabbing his pile of papers and taking out one with dark pictures on it, before victoriously slap them on the table, right in front of Gomez. He looks a lot more serious and frowns a little bit, still lightly bended over the table, an arm stretched and leaning on it to support him]

Jonathan:
Now that is something: Victoria Welton, white female of 23 years old, brutally beaten to death on the last 23rd of March, lot of odd blade markings and scratches…
(Pauses to switch the pictures with the other hand, still staring at Gomez)
…That were made after she passed away, which means her killer truly had a bone to prick with young women… We think it may be a ritual murder thing… made by a creepy wicked mind…

Gomez:
(Looking anxious and scared, wide eying the pictures)
What it has to do with me? This is just disgusting.

Jonathan:
(Threateningly)
It has everything to do with you, boy, and I can tell: that ain’t good news for you…

Gomez:
(Realizing, quite frightened, nearly whispering of awe)
You think I did this?!

Jonathan:
(Still staring, noncommittally)
Y’know how many years you can get with that? We’ve all the evidence we could wish for…
(Coldly whispering)
Everything…
(Standing up and crossing back his arms, threatening)
It is only yours to confess if you want a chance to get out of there before becomin’ an ol’pal… Or to dodge the life sentence maybe. Just imagine how awful that must be, an entire life wasted in a deep dark crappy cage-looking hole… That’s much to shiver about, uh? And you heard of course of those horrible stories that people tells about jail, don’t you?

Gomez:
(Startled and shouting)
No that’s a mistake! I… I never killed this woman, I … I only stole the clients from that diner, but I am no murderer! I swear! Sobre santa Marìa madre de Dio, te lo juro!

[Gomez begins to shake his handcuffs, seeming nearly crying for help. Jonathan stops frowning, his eyes still on Gomez as the Latino was mumbling a prayer in Spanish]

Jonathan
(Trying to calm him down, more softly)
All right there…

Gomez:
(Not listening, desperate)
I beg you hombre, please listen to me, I am no killer! Please! ... I have nothing to do with this bloodshed!
(Mumbles something about “el Diablo” )

[Jonathan sighs, takes something out of his pockets and puts it down on the table. It is a tiny voice recorder. He stops it and press play, the voice of the Latino coming out and confessing his robbery. Stunned, Gomez glances at him with wide eyes, realizing he has been fooled with false accusations, while Jonathan takes back the recorder, cheerily smirking. Gomez quickly becomes angry and begins to shout at Jonathan as he gathers his papers with a triumphant look on his face]

Gomez:
(Roaring of anger)
Arrr! Bastardo! Hijo de puta de mierda! Te odio puerco !

Jonathan:(Mockingly)
I know, that was way too easy, kiddie… but you still should be more polite.

[Jonathan goes for the door, amused and proud of his shot. When he was going to open up, he hears a loud and deep rumbling behind him and turns slowly around, frowning.]

Jonathan:What on earth…

[He interrupts himself, startled as in front of him a huge black abyss seems to open up and cover up all what was the wall before, appeared of nowhere, the table and all vanished, there are some whistling sounds as there was a windstorm, as the black whirlwind was getting bigger. Jonathan tries to back off, but is shocked and speechless. The black hole seems to flood all the room, the screen becoming totally dark, an alarming drama music playing. ]

END TEASER
OPENING CREDITS

((Plein de jolies images super sexy de Connor en pleine chasse et etc, avec d’la musique hardcore et des effets spéciaux flamboyants :P ))

To be continued

malheureusement ( si on veux) pas la suite, mais plutôt la traduction approximative... c'est pour ça que la couleur est pas pareille les notes personnelles sont entre (( )) paranthèses double, quand je manquais de voccabulaire français

(je trouve que ça fait nunuche ce que Connor dit là , la v-o est plus: Macho-Railleur à souhait qui fait profondément chier le voleur et parle en language familier des USA *se mets la musique Holding Out For A Hero en arrière plan* )

DÉBUT D’INTRIGUE ((vous savez, les début d'émission avant le thème... souvent ils en profitent pour mettre un résumé des épisodes précédentes...))

EXTÉRIEUR— Poste de Police numéro 4, Le jour

[Un bâtiment moyen de briques rouges coincé entre deux autres bureaux de la ville, il y a quelque piétons qui passent sur le trottoir, des voitures de police stationnée devant le poste. Un gros plan sur la pancarte “Poste de Police de Providence” ainsi que le drapeau américain à côté.]

INTÉRIEUR— Poste de Police numéro 4

[Dans la sale d’interrogatoire, les murs de ciments sont grisâtres, les néons émettent un léger bourdonnement, une table d’un brun banal devant un jeune Latino assis, menotté à la table. Il a l’air ennuyé et observe la pièce, puis soupire d’une façon mélodramatique quand la porte ouvre. Jonathan entre, en son uniforme de police noire, mais sans la casquette, la tête plongée dans ses papiers]

Jonathan:
Alors, qu’avons-nous ici…
(Il lit l’en-tête du document, visiblement en train de faire croire qu’il ne connaissait pas son affaire, puis se retourne et jette le document sur la table, avant de regarder longuement le Latino, croisant ses bras sur sa poitrine.)
Daniel “El Feo” ((traduction : le Laid)) Gomez, 25 années, provenant d’une famille assez connues des autorités, et on a encore les fiches bien remplis de tous ce beau monde dans nos dossiers…
(Se moquant visiblement)
C’est très impressionnant ce que tu as fait, tous ces braquages de restaurant du genre « Diner typiques des petites villes » … Ça c’est ce que j’appelle de l’art! Et la façon qu’on t’as retrouvé, cache juste derrière le bâtiment même, c’était gé-nia-le!

Gomez:
(Marmonnant)
Puerco… estupido hijo de puta… ((Traduction : Porc… stupide fils de pute…))

Jonathan:
(Le regardant d’un air ruse, ignorant les insultes)
Dis-moi, tu n’étais pas en train de tenter de gagner de l’argent facilement…
(Il fait une pause, prend un air innocent et fait semblant de se confondre en excuses)
Je veux dire, j’ai cru qu’avec ton petit commerce de drogue, tu devrais déjà avoir assez d’argent… Je ne dis pas que tu fais de pathétiques tentatives pour devenir riche… Bien que… ce n’est pas comme si tu roulais déjà en Hummer doré, hein?... mais qu’est-ce que je raconte, non alors là c’est un peu embarrassant...

[Gomez roule des yeux avec exaspération, puis aperçoit l’arme que porte Jonathan, promenant ensuite son regard de la porte à l’étui à fusil. Jonathan s’en aperçoit tout de suite et incline la tête sur le côté d’un air amuse et toujours aussi rusé]

Jonathan:
(Cyniquement, mais plus sérieux)
Je ne tenterais pas ça si j’étais toi… Et, disons: tu n’es pas du tout en position de déguerpir comme ça, crois-moi le jeune. Les choses vont vraiment devenir cauchemardesque, je ne fais pas que des fausses menaces.

Gomez:
(Grognant rageusement)
Voy a te matar, te lo digo puerco de mierda, Voy a te matar ! ((Traduction : je vais te tuer, je te le dis, porc de merde, je vais te tuer!))

Jonathan:
(Ne le prenant pas au sérieux, sarcastiquement, exécutant de faux gestes exaspérés)
Ouais ouais, bien sûr, tu as presque marqué un point ici… Je le sais car vous dites tous la même chose : vous allez me tuer, je suis un foutu flic et, étrangement, vous finissez tous par haïr ma mère à un tel point que vous croyez qu’elle a absolument quelque chose à voir avec la prostitution…

Gomez:
(Vraiment surprise, avec un accent espagnol)
Vous me comprenez!?

Jonathan:
(Faisant un sourire en coin railleur)
Tu sais, c’est comme ça avec ce genre de job: il faut traiter avec toute sorte de gens…
(Moqueur)
Comme maintenant, je suis en quelque sorte en train d’apprendre le mandarin: c’est assez intéressant quand on s’y met vraiment…

[Il décroise les bras et marche jusqu’à la table, se saisissant de la pile de documents et en sortant une feuilles pleine d’images sombres, puis la plaque sèchement sur la table, juste sous le nez de Gomez. Il a l’air beaucoup plus sérieux et fronce légèrement des sourcils, légèrement penché sur la table en s’appuyant dessus avec un bras.]

Jonathan:
Ça c’est autre chose: Victoria Welton, femme de race blanche de 23 ans, brutalement battue à mort le 23 mars dernier, beaucoup d’étrange marques de couteau et d’égratignures sur le corps…
(Il fait une pause pour mettre une autre feuille sur le dessus avec son autre main, toujours à scruter attentivement Gomez)
…qui furent laissées après son décès, ce qui veut dire que le tueur avait vraiment une dent contre les jeunes femme… On croit que ce fut peut-être dans le cadre d’un rituel meurtrier… réalisé par une personne à l’esprit vraiment tordu et glauque…

Gomez:
(Semble anxieux et effrayé, regardant l’image les yeux écarquillés)
En quoi est-ce que cela me concerne? C’est juste dégelasse.

Jonathan:
(D’un ton menaçant)
Cela te concerne entièrement, le jeune, et je peux te dire: c’n’est pas du tout de bonnes nouvelles pour toi…

Gomez:
(Réalisant avec horreur ce que Jonathan tentait de lui dire, assez effrayé, murmurant sous le choc)
Tu crois que j’ai fait ça?!

Jonathan:
(Toujours à le scruter, l’air indéchiffrable)
Tu sais combien d’années tu peux avoir avec cette horreur? Nous avons toutes les preuves que tu pourrais souhaiter…
(murmurant férocement)
Absolument toute…
(Se relève et recroise ses bras, l’air menaçant)
Ce n’est que de toi et tes aveux que cela relève si tu veux une chance de sortir de là avant de devenir un vieux déchet… Ou éviter la prison à vie peut-être. Imagine seulement à quell point cela doit être horrible, gaspiller une vie entière dans ce profond sombre et sale trou puant qui ressemble à une cage... Il y a de quoi donner des frisson dans le dos, hein? Et tu as déjà entendu toute ces effroyables histoire que les gens raconte au sujet de la tôle, n’est-ce pas?

Gomez:
(Alarmé, s’exclamant vivement)
Non, c’est un erreur! Je… Je n’ai jamais tué cette femme, Je … J’ai seulement détroussé les client de ce restau, mais je ne suis pas un assassin! Je le jure! Sobre santa Marìa madre de Dio, te lo juro! ((Traduction : sur Sainte-Marie mère de Dieu, je te le jure!))

[Gomez commence à tirer sur ses menottes, semblant au bord des larmes. Jonathan arête de froncer des sourcils, en regardant toujours Gomez alors que ce dernier marmonnait une prière en espagnol]

Jonathan
(Plus doucement, tentant de le calmer)
Allons allons…

Gomez:
(Désespéré, sans écouter)
je t’en supplie hombre ((traduction: mec)), s’il te plais écoutes-moi, Je ne suis pas un tueur! Je t’en supplie! ... je n’ai rien à voir avec ce carnage!
(Marmonne quelque chose au sujet de “el Diablo” ((traduction: le diable)))

[Jonathan soupire, sort quelque chose de ses poches et la dépose sur la table. C’est un petit enregistreur vocal. Il l’arrête et fait jouer la bande, on entend la voix du Latino qui confesse son vol. Choqué, Gomez le dévisage avec les yeux grand ouverts, réalisant qu’il s’est fait rouler avec de fausses accusations, pendant que Jonathan reprend son appareil, un sourire en coin joyeux aux lèvres. Gomez devient rapidement en colère et commence à crier après Jonathan alors que ce dernier ramassait les papiers sans l’écouter, un air triomphant au visage]

Gomez:
(Vociférant)
Arrr! Bastardo! Hijo de puta de mierda! Te odio puerco ! ((traduction: Arr, Batard! Fils de pute de merde, je te déteste sale porc))

Jonathan:
(Railleur)
Je sais, c’était trop facile, jeunot… mais tu devrais quand même rester poli.

[Jonathan va vers la porte, amuse et fier de son coup. Quand il allait ouvrir, il entend un sonore et grave grondement derrière lui et il se retourne lentement, fronçant des sourcils.]

Jonathan: Mais qu’est-ce que…

[Il s’interrompt, profondémment surprise alors que devant lui une énorme abysse noire semblait déchirer l’espace et couvrir le mur qui était là un intant avant. Apparaissant de nulle part, la table et tout semblant s’être évaporée, il y a des sifflements du vent comme pendant un ouragan, alors que le trou noir devenait plus grand encore. Jonathan semble vouloir reculer, mais il est paralysé, le soufflé coupé. Le trou noir envahit toute la pièce, l’écran TV devenant complètement noir, une musique dramatique et alarmante joue. ]

FIN DU DÉBUT D’INTRIGUE
Ouverture (vous savez, avec le titre et tout…)

((Plein de jolies images super sexy de Connor en pleine chasse et etc, avec d’la musique hardcore et des effets spéciaux flamboyants :P ))

bon, à suivre ça aussi ^^

La suite ^^
(bon, la traduction est à venir c'est certain...)

END OPENING CREDITS

[In the bottom of the black screen, appears the title of the episode in white glowing letters: Dreams Adrift]

INT—Jonathan’s apartment, Dawn

[A dark nearly empty cranky bedroom is barely visible in the dark, closed curtains letting in a few light beams. Jonathan suddenly falls off his bed on his wooden floor, quite startled, wide eyeing around him, panting. He only wears pale blue T-shirt and boxer underwear, without his bullet-proof vest. He quickly sits, hardly realizing where he is, but do not dare standing up right now]

Jonathan:
(Stuttering, blinking, wide-eyed)
Shit what the…aww shit…
(Rubbing his eyes and gasping, then looks around)
Hella shit…
(Realizes it wasn’t real, still moved)
Goddamn it! What was that all about?!

[He hardly gets up, helping himself by leaning on the wall and hanging on the side of his bed. Once up, he nearly fells off balance, blinking again. Jonathan looks at his bed with a disgusted mimic on his face, then walks off, still a little bit unsteady. Next scene, Jonathan turns the lights on and enters in a crappy and small old bathroom, mostly of turquoise green and beige colors. He opens the tap of the sink and splashes water in his bended over it face with his hands. He then dry himself with the nearest towel, throws it behind him and looks up at the mirror. ]

Jonathan:
(To himself)
How dare you; losin’ your mind like that ‘cause of a nightmare…
(Scoffs)
Jerk.

[Jonathan squints as he sees the circle under his eyes, straights up and frowns, still looking at himself in the mirror]

Jonathan:
(Mumbling, stating)
Looks like I haven’t slept at all that night… Feels like I haven't slept.
(Drops his head, exasperate and frustrated)
And now I’m just talking to myself, how crazy is that!

[Jonathan grunts, closes the light and walks away, tired and grouchy looking]

EXT—Mac's Tavern, Morning

[A plain old pub-looking tavern of dark brown bricks with a dark red heavy door, some blue bar neon twitching over it, on an outdated street of poor looking buildings. A drunken man sleeps beside the entrance]

INT-- Mac's Tavern

[The tavern is smoky, only 2 or 3 other clients and the barman at the bar. A teenager employee is cleaning up a table in a corner, bored. And old pool table stands in the back, half lighten up by a yellowish lamp. A cheap looking jukebox plays a barely audible country song. Jonathan, dressed up with his black leather coat, a black T-shirt and greyish jeans, plops in a chair, in front of the dark wooden bar, and sighs]

Mac, the barman:
(Merrily)
Well well ol’ boy, what’s up with ya, eh? You use to come around sooner ‘cause of your night job. I was worrying about loosing our youngest blood around!

[Mac laughs, Jonathan sighs, shrugs and leans on the bar, grumpy looking. The barman laughs heartily once more and turns to grab a shouter glass]

Mac:
(Humouring him)
Would ya believe me if I told ya that y’looks worn out this morning?

Jonathan:
(Not quite dynamic)
‘Had a bad night, Mac
(sighs)
Only a bad night…

Mac:
(With bonhomie, filling up the glass with various alcohols)
Maybe the doorman’s job isn’t for you… It’s not just about how muscular ya’re built up; gotta catch the spirit too!

[Jonathan subtly peeks at him, wondering if Mac knows he has been lying about his real job.]

Jonathan:
Nah, it’s not the job this time: I just took a day off
(Ironically commenting)
Or should I say a night off…

Mac:
(Laughing)
But ya haven’t lost your sense of humour, eh buddy?
(Chuckles)
C’m’on tell me it ain’t about a girl isn’t it?

Jonathan:
No, it’s way plainer: ‘feel tired even with all the sleeping I had… It’s not important and
(Sarcastically)
I’m not the kind of guy that actually tells everyone about how good my day was!

Mac:
(Mocking) He he: don’t tell me you’re having bad dreams too!

[Mac turns around to settle down his bottle of alcohol as Jonathan gives him a concerned look. Mac doesn’t notice]

Mac:
While talking about it: yesterday, a new guy came in and drank as Heck… Kinda funny lad though… He told me about
(Scornfully)
Bad dreams that were getting scarier every night… took me enormous strength to not laugh out loud!

Jonathan:
(Acting as he was amused and slightly surprised)
Nightmares, what could be that horrible about that? It’s only… a bunch of feelings and memories smelted together...

Mac:
(Chuckling)
He talked about a creepy darklin’ suckin’ evil hole of Hell… Worst: our pal was still sober when he said that crap! Not a smidgeon left of brain, eh?

Jonathan:
A hole? ...

Mac:
(Heartily)
Aww, ya heard me well, fella!

Jonathan:
(Sceptical)
Is it supposed to have any meaning?

Mac:
(Insinuating)
Well, maybe the guy felt a little bit lonely…

[Jonathan raises an eyebrow, not getting it]

Mac:
(As if it was obvious)
Hello! Girl lonely kind! Sexual jokes here! he missed a little bit of ladies! ...
(Irritated)
Ah just forget it! ...

[Jonathan does not answer and slurps his glass, absent-minded. Mac nods with exasperation and keeps on cleaning up some part of the bar.]

Jonathan:
(Scoffs, but a little bit concerned looking)
And the guy had a name?

Mac:
(Stopping his work, leaning on the bar, thinking)
That’s a harsh one you’re asking kid… ‘think it was something with an… a… “L” or something…Li…Le…
(Triumphant)
Leyland! That’s it! ... Leyland Fraser!

[Jonathan stops gulping down alcohol, the glass still up in his hand, doubtfully glancing at Mac]

Jonathan:
(Sceptical, suspecting a bad joke or something, stating)
Leyland… like the British truck company?

Mac:
(Irritated)
I see ya comin’ with that; you’re thinkin’ I’ve been fooled like a moron, eh? That the man told me a lousy fake name and that I haven’t copied that?
(Angrily gesturing)
Then be screwed deeply ‘cause no one can mock the ol’ MacTavish, no one!

Jonathan:
(Pondering casually, not impressed at all)
If you think that’ll drive me to extra-tip you… You’re getting even more predictable!
(Slap his empty glass on the table and stands up, unfalteringly)
I’ll pay you up tomorrow. Now if you excuse me, I don’t have time to hear your son of a gun talks, ‘am sure I could be more useful elsewhere…
(Threateningly poking his chest)
And you are the one that should be screwed sometime...

[Jonathan nods to salute, cunningly smirking, and walks away with self-confidence. The door shuts behind him, letting the few clients and employees, which were listening since the moment Mac got angry, a little bit amazed]

Mac:
(Quite surprised, too much to be really offended)
Me?! An old son of a gun?! Who does he thinks he is?!
(To the clients and employee)
Ya heard it, bunch of simpletons?! Ya heard what he said to me?!

[The teenager employee shrugs and get back to his cleaning, the client hypocritically looks down on their drink. Mac sets his fist on his hips, still not believing what just happened. ]

Mac:
(to himself, in awe)
That bugger… 'Hope he'll really comes back tomorow...

COMMERCIALS

à suivre ^^

END OF COMMERCIALS

EXT—Side of a road, Providence, Day

[A country road a little bit bumpy and pale, surrounded by trees, under a hot summer sunlight. View of a regular Rhodes Island police car, then just before it, a early 70’s rusty green truck. There is a short and fleshy woman looking like a nervous grandmother, switching from one foot to the other as she watches a policeman taking a look at what she has in the trunk of the truck.]

Woman:
(Nervously)
Um, sir, I… I mean… it is a waste of time; there is absolutely nothing wrong with… with my car
(Smiles nervously)
This thing is actually old, I know but…you don’t have to look in there you see?

[The policeman turns toward the old lady and we can see it is Jonathan, in his uniform and with black shades. He smiles lightly, looking sorry, as he was still searching the trunk filled with anything.]

Jonathan:
It is my job ma’am, and when I asked you if you were hiding something illegal in your car, you simply didn’t answer…
(He grabs a flower-power style lamp and looks at it, raising one eyebrow, incredulous)
I only follow the law…

Woman:
(Desperately)
You could make an exception… I am a nice person

[Jonathan didn’t seem to listen enough to her; the old woman grabs him by the arm, surprising him]

Woman:
What harm can means a grandma like me? I have 5 children and 3 grandchildren, sir, why would I do something illegal? You want to see their pictures? I have plenty of them in my purse; I always carry their pictures on with me, always.
(Diving one hand in her purse and taking out a wallet)
I got them right here, son…
(Opening it up clumsily, then showing some plain kid posing pictures)
Those are my little angels… This one is named Sheryl, and there is the baby Gill and now...


Jonathan:
(Taking the woman’s hand away from his arm, a little bit sterner, interrupting her)
Lady, I am only checking; we do that often on those interstate roads… Your children look nice, but unfortunately it is not why I am back here, ma’am. So if you have nothing to hide, there won’t be …

[As he was saying this, he settles down the lamp on the car floor, but the thing made a hollow sound. Wondering and frowning, as the woman was gasping, Jonathan takes a closer look on the floor, noticing a hidden trap on it. He opens it up by ripping up easily a part of the orange carpet already cutted and there is a closed view of a great amount of cocaine bags packed there]

Jonathan:
(Continuing, astonished)
… any problems…

[Next scene, Jonathan is walking toward his car and gets in and sits, then takes the radio to call the police department, an amused and an exultant smirk on his lips]

Jonathan:
(Ironically yet professionally)
Connor’s callin’, I just came on a grandma with a very special package, the hallucinating kind of package; you should really see this… can you send me some troops over here? I’m on road 32.

[We hear indistinctly at the distance the woman crying and begging, drawing a smirk from Jonathan, amused by the silly look of the situation. He suddenly stops smiling when he hears by the radio a creepy rumbling sound that gets louder and louder. Jonathan looks troubled and tries again]

Jonathan:
Hello? Department 4, do you copy?

[No response; Jonathan presses on some buttons to check if the radio is working, knocking it softly on the side of the dashboard. Still no response, only the rumbling sound]

Jonathan:
(Muttering to himself)
Why ain’t it working? ...
(Louder and opening the window, to the woman outside)
It won’t be long ma’am; something technical... do not worry…

[The rumbling becomes too loud and Jonathan prefers closing his radio, still surprised by the event. Something grabs his attention and he turns his head on the side, taking off his shades. Jonathan sees with horror a growing black abyss that takes nearly all of his sighting on that side, wide-eying that black twister. Then it quickly floods everything, letting once more the screen totally black just like the last time.]

INT—Jonathan’s apartment, Day

[The room is still the same, but more beams of light come in than last time. Once more Jonathan wakes up quite frightened, panting and looking around with an anxious look, then jumps off his bed. However, as he lands, he collapses on his knees with a giddy look on his face. He stays stunned a few seconds, moved and worrying. Jonathan tries to get up on his feet, shakily successful after many groggy-looking tries]

Jonathan:
(Dizzy and upset)
What again?!!? ... That’s…

[Jonathan leans his back on the wall, trying to catch his breath, seems perspiring. He looks around and suddently rolls eye like he was going to faint, but then catches up.]

Jonathan:
(Shakes his head and blinks)
Wow, I never realized I was so bubbly back then… It’s like watching baby pictures…
(Realizing, irritated)
Damn, what am I thinking; there are more important things than how I looked! Like: how can I dream about perfectly precise memories with that shitty hole thing every night?!
(Tugs at the wall with frustration, then continues sardonically)
What can it be; a dream haunting creature of hell? Still it wouldn’t be a crystal-clear theory…Or maybe the job drove me crazy somehow… No, that can’t be that
(Trying to persuade himself)
M’just a lill’ bit tired, that’s all; just a lill’ bit tired… And to talk to yourself like this, it’s just a morning phase you’re gonna get trough… Sure I’ll get trough this… That will get away soon…

[Jonathan scoffs, but still looks upset and unconvinced, then leaves unsteadily the room helping himself by holding on the furniture. He once more gets to the bathroom looks in the mirror and notices he looks even more tired. ]

Jonathan:
(Irritated)
Oh great! That’s shit! ...
(Stares down, sighs, giving up on being frustrated)
‘Guess I’ll get used to that someday…

[Jonathan closes the door without conviction and we soon hear the water sound of the shower. Closed view of the wall where Jonathan stood few seconds ago; the wall seems oddly clawed at 2 and half meters above the floor, all over it. Drama music]

EXT—Cleveland’s streets, Day

[Near some apartment buildings, not the most beautiful part of downtown Cleveland. Jonathan gets out of a plain little convenience store, ringing the bell on the door, with a pack of beer bottles and a newspaper rolled up, then gets in his black F150 1985 truck and shuts the doors. He doesn’t look that dynamic and blinks often. Jonathan doesn’t starts the engine, unfolds the newspaper at the end; he reads the necrology. After a few minutes, Jonathan stuns, raising an eyebrow, taken aback. ]

Jonathan:
(To himself)
Now that is interesting…
(Frowning)
And odd enough to be part of a ghostlike story or som’thing…

INT—Mac’s Tavern, Day

[Same background and scheme: few clients, the teenager employee is barely working, Mac is at the bar. Jonathan is sitting just in front and shows up the newspaper page to Mac holding it right before him to catch his attention then slaps it on the bar as Mac approaches, wondering]

Mac:
(Scolding tone)
So whatcha found out to make sure ya won’t pay me this time, eh? Don’t tell me there has been a new law preventing big fella like ya from givin’ me money!
(Mac grabs the newspaper to take a closer look, and then puts it back down, dismissive)
A bunch of dead people… Y’wanted that impressive, boy? Ya messed up your effect.

Jonathan:
(A cunning look on his face, without taking care of the uninterested attitude of Mac)
You told me the weird man that came around talking about dreams was called Leyland Fraser; am I right, Mac? …

Mac:
(Irritated)
Oh, I see! Ya’ll just keep on with that! I know it is a truck company but…

Jonathan:
(Interrupting him dryly)
We already talked enough about trucks…
(Jonathan closes his eyes, as he was hardly controlling himself, then continues laconically)
On the picture. Do you recognize him?

Mac:
Him? Who?

Jonathan:
(Pressing)
The Leyland guy! The one you had so much fun talking about yesterday.

Mac:
Oh… him
(Looking at the picture, realizing)
Well, he’s part of the bunch of dead people now! Wow, ’never tough I’d be so close of a corpse… and a moron corpse in addition… Y’know how he’s gone?

Jonathan:
(Annoyed)
How should I, Macky?
(Ironically)
Not like I have something to do with the cops… they’re the only ones that can know right now.

Mac:
(Mocking, without really knowing the truth)
Hella yeah; O’Connor the bobby! Our dearest Joaquim O’Connor the bossy policeman! Walkin’ aroun’ like: “Freeze! Cleveland Police here! ‘Got a gun and a nice girly suit so drop yar filthy wea-pon!”
(Makes gunshot sounds as setting his finger into a pistol and acting like shooting randomly)
Ya’ll be my favo copper! Lotta medals and stuff; trust me!

[Mac laughs and turns around to get Jonathan’s glass, as Jonathan gives him a false smile, a little bit wound-up looking. Mac still laughs at his vision; the teenager employee giggles and shakes his head in a disbelieving way. Jonathan frowns at both of them and clasps his fist, quite irritated. There is a silence where we hear the jukebox playing. Jonathan seems to calm down]

Jonathan:
(Sighing and staring blankly)
What I know is that the burial service is tomorrow…

Mac:
Yep, so what, boy?

[Jonathan glances at him, wondering if Mac is serious. Mac gives Jonathan an inquisitive and suspicious look. Jonathan remembers that Mac is not aware of the interests of a hunter and drops his head, exasperated. Mac frowns, unsure of what is going on with Jonathan]

Jonathan:
(Pinching his nose)
Ok. Right. Just…
(Sighs)
Just never mind would you…

Mac:
(Amused)
Jeez, and ya’re lookin’ even more burned out today!

Jonathan:
I know.

Mac:
(Amused)
Seriously; looks like ya ran after cabaret nightclub dancers all night lon’!
(Chuckling, humoring him)
Well, lad; it ain’t tha ultimate method to get those girls! When will ya understand?!

Jonathan:
(Irritated, threatening)
Look; I still can end it up like yesterday in case you didn’t learn yet…

Mac:
And I won’t be gloomy-crying this time; we thought ya wouldn’t come today… ‘Cause, you know; it’s kind of noon-ish right now and we never see you in the middle of the day…

Jonathan:
(Dryly)
So what? Why would you even care about that?
(Sarcastically)
Hail MacTavish the Gold Hearted!

Mac:
(Surprised by the cold answer)
Wella… ya use to seem more cheerful than that to me… I mean; you never came here depressed like this before… Ya’re not the jolly kind, but still…

[Jonathan sighs as Mac gives him his drink, not answering. The barman gives him an upset glance; shakes exasperatedly his head and gets back to his business. Jonathan huffs with frustration and begins to drink silently. Once again there is a silence. Suddenly, the door opens and let in an afro-American nice looking and nicely dressed woman. She comes in and shuts the door behind her, looking curiously at every client. Jonathan doesn’t turn around, still grumpy and staring blankly. Mac notices the woman and takes a more serious, polite and surprised look]

Mac:
Well hello! What can I do for ya, missy?

[Understanding there is a woman in that lame tavern, surprised about it; Jonathan turns around completely on his chair, a little bit curious. When Jonathan recognizes her, he is astonished, jaw dropping, looking at her with wide opened eyes]

Jonathan:
(Sluttering in a nonplussed way)
Elsie?! What… what the hell are you doing up here?!

Elsie:
(Raising an eyebrow, surprised but not so much as him)
Johnny-boy?!

[We see Elsie's incredulous looks, Jonathan's astonished one and Mac's wondering look, nobody’s moving in the tavern]

à suivre ^^

un bout de la suite en V-O ^^, un autre visage de Jo XD

[They are still surprised, same scene and all. Jonathan stands up; astonished and incredulous; Elsie looks at him and crosses her arms, Mac glances at them, makes an enormous horny smile then breaks that silence with a mocking tone]

Mac:
Wella wella, O’Conny, is it why ya feel weary nowadays? Y’could had told me, I’d understand y’know? ... Anyway, that's more than a piece of cake, ya ol' pal!

Jonathan:
(to Mac, without looking and still shoked)
...Screw off Macky, you have nothin' to do with that...

Elsie:
(Without taking care of Mac, a little bit angry at first at Jonathan)
Damn, I should be the one to ask you what you are doing here! We all thought you were dead or som’thing; what came to your mind when you just leaved us all back there without notice?! Not even a note or a plain easy phone call!

Jonathan:
(Surprised by this vehemence, trying to explain himself)
‘Lsie, I just had to leave, trust me on that this time… just once and I don't ask for more...

Elsie:
(Sardonically)
You had to leave?! You had to?!
(More angrily)
You cannot just run from the responsibilities you took back there, you see, you have no right Jonathan!

Mac:
(Mockingly, interested and amused)
Yeah lady, just blame him for not even callin’ ya back after that night, or for spending another night with yar best friend … Then we’ll see how he’ll gets away from it!
(Realizing suddently, doubtful)
Wait, did she call ya Jonathan? …

Jonathan:
(Turning toward Mac with a very angered look, pointing threateningly to the barman)
You! You shut the fucking hell up, y’heard me?! Shut it up!

Elsie:
(Continuing and outbursts her frustration, not taking care of the interruption)
So what is it? Y’were merely scared, uh? The monsters freaked the hell out of your lill’ ass? You now just hide in there, playing the Invisible man, going from crappy bars to another? Like you could escape anything?

Jonathan:
(Facing back Elsie, insulted by this blame)
No, I stop you right here, you really don’t know; that’s just…

Mac:
(Interrupting, realizing)
Wha, my bar is crappy?! MacTavish’s bar is tha best in the whole town! I’ll teach ya good manners you fat dirty…

Jonathan:
(Interrupting furiously, to Mac)
When will you learn to shut your freakin’ mouth up, uh? Why won’t you just stay quiet a little? You really have to piss me off like this every time?! I’m asking you!

Mac:
(Surprised, sluttering and really offended)
Wh… well…

Jonathan:
(Still to Mac)
And don’t pretend you got something to answer to this, asshole!

Elsie:
(Still to Jonathan)
You’re trying to escape once more, admit it! You’re just trying to distract me but you won’t this time
(Scoffing)
Hell no you won’t! I’ll hang up on you; I’ll just follow you until you give me a proper explanation to the fact you
(More loudly and madly)
abandoned our hunter pals and I while we were workin’ in the swamps with you! How stupid is that, how insensible! What if one of us got killed down there, uh?! What would you do then?!

Jonathan:
(Defending himself, frowning, to Elsie)
Hey, you were doing just fine, I knew you could do it right without me or else I wouldn’t have leaved you all. I’m surely not that crazy… Plus I had better things to do here than back in Florida.

Elsie:
(Setting her fists on her hips, squinting suspiciously)
Oh yeah? So what is that important then?

Jonathan:
(Trying to cool down, sighing)
Look, Elsie…

[Jonathan glances at Mac and the other clients that are still fully listening to them. He seems upset to be watched like this, not wanting to reveal them all Elsie and he Hunter job and so long. He frowns slightly and walks toward Elsie, grabs her by the opposite shoulder as he was passing by and pressing her toward the exit without looking at her. Elsie let him guide her, still obviously offended and surprised by the gesture.]

Jonathan:
(Whispering with an ironic but curtly tone)
Why don’t we talk about this somewhere else…?

Mac:
(Surprised and angry)
Ya two are just leavin’ like this?! After all the shit you're makin'? And what about yar drink, ya sucker? Who’s gonna pay me, eh? Do I also have the right to want to kill ya?!

[Jonathan gives him the middle finger by raising his lower arm without even looking, then pushes open the door and guides bodily Elsie outside. The door closes, leaving once more Mac and the clients astonished by the scene. The teenager employee drops his broom and puts his hands in his pockets, amazed looking]

Teenager:
Wow, Mac dude, tha’s tot’ly way better than the O.C. thing !

Mac:
(Still looking at the door, half whispering)
What the hell were they talkin’ about?! …

Teenager:
(With an unsure and stupid look)
The guy has been to Florida maybe… and the chick was kinda mad

Mac:
(Irritated, realizing)
Hey, don’t ya mess with me and get back to yar stupid cleaning, ya lazy!
(mumbling to himself)
Like I haven't understood that!

EXT—Mac’s Tavern

[Elsie and Jonathan gets out, Jonathan releasing her once the door is closed. He stops there but she begins to walk off very frustrated, then turns toward him and looks daggers at him, crossing her arms. ]

Elsie:
(Pressing)
So? I’m waiting.

Jonathan:
(Serious and slightly concerned)
In first place, why are you here?

Elsie:
(Curtly)
Because we just heard about a very apocalyptic happening around for sure.

Jonathan:
Exactly.

Elsie:
(Realizing, uncrossing her arms)
You mean you knew it had happened and you told no one?!

Jonathan:
(Explaining himself, a little bit upset even if he tries to hide it)
I had no time to waste; I wanted to really see it myself… There were a lot of people I cared about here and I wanted to be sure they were alright…

Elsie:
(Suspicious)
Here? Cleveland? Where’re you really from?

Jonathan:
I just lived here for a long time…
(Closes his eyes briefly, like he was thinking)
At least compared to all the other states since I’m in the hunting business… Still not as long as in Rhodes Island… but that’s out of subject and part of the past now…

Elsie:
(Realizing, a bit deceived)
Oh, so you’re not from Miami

Jonathan:
(Frowning, wondering)
What?

Elsie:
(Placating)
Well I just assumed that with all your muscles you were one of those body builders we see on the beach and…
(Interrupts herself, uncomfortable)
Never mind…

[Jonathan blinks at her, not knowing what to think of that bizarreness as Elsie stares away, embarrassed. There is a silence. Jonathan looks around, looking for her typical car, wondering where she parked it. He sees it: a bright red Datsun 240z 1973 with a crimson leather inside. Jonathan smirks as remembering nice memories and shakes his head, amused. Elsie didn’t notice and turns back to face him, more calmed and still a little bit uncomfortable. She doesn’t look in his eyes]

Elsie:
(looks to be trying to hide his worries)
Y’don’t know how upset I was: one day you were walking around and acting cool with the head of the monster you just killed…
(Nearly whispering the end of the phrase)
the next one, I mean: you just disappeared.
(Scoffs, bitter)
We thought the devil got you! But it has been even worst when we realized your truck could be found nowhere and your apartment has been emptied up… Fled like a coward… a fuckin' coward!

Jonathan:
(With a sweet sorry look on his face)
You know me better than that…

Elsie:
Y’can never be really hundred percent sure…

Jonathan:
(Smirks slightly)
I never meant to disappear like that if it's what you dare thinking…

Elsie:
I know I know. I believe you and your story about some friends still in that Ohio mess…

Jonathan:
(Frowning one eyebrow)
Was it honest?

Elsie:
(a bit surprised)
Yeah, sure!

[Jonathan ducks his head on the side, lost in his thoughts. Elsie stares at him, now seeing his tired features. She wears a wondering look]

Elsie:
And, uh… what’s up with you Connor?

Jonathan:
(With a distracted look and tone)
What?

Elsie:
(Stating)
You look exhausted.

Jonathan:
(Faking lightly-ness, smiling faintly)
Oh, yeah it’s… I’m workin’ to find out why. Nothing to worry about this time although, not like I have a killer demon after my ass.

Elsie:
(Not quite assured)
Fine, hope you’ll get better.

[There is another silence, both lost in their thoughts. A middle-age man come by and passes between the two in apologizing, before entering in Mac’s Tavern. They now look a little bit embarrassed, Elsie even more.]


Elsie:
I only came to peak at what kind of bar there is around, I think I’ve found a pretty quiet one.
(Smiles at her joke)
Well, uh… I’m settled in this city now and as long people like us are needed… So uh… I’ll see you around, ok?

Jonathan:
(Smirking, amused but with no bad intentions)
Yeah, right… we… I’m sure we’ll meet again.

Elsie:
(Passing one hand in her hair)
Fine, uh… I’m going now. You know where I’ll be if you want to meet me again and without fight this time…

[She smiles nervously, waves as well and turns her back on him, walking toward her car quickly, opens up and gets in. Jonathan raises one eyebrow, sceptical]

Jonathan:
(As he was responding to her, even if she if too far to hear)
No I don’t know where to find you, ‘Lsie…

[The engine starts in a loud noise, and then the car goes away quickly, the break squeaking as the Datsun leaves the road to turn on another street. Jonathan drops his head and sighs, sets his hands in his pockets, kicks some dirt off the sidewalk then turns to where is own vehicle is probably parked.]

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