Lt. Boxy Angelman
I WILL EAT THIS GAME
For years now, I've been attempting to write this.
Book, story, script, it's never really mattered HOW it came to life, the point has just been to tell the tale and bring it to life. Recently, since I've started planning to go back to writing on a regular, constant basis, I finally churned out a new, passable, much more well-rounded opening to said story.
The plot itself is still a mystery, even to me. But sometimes, it's best not to try so hard to look for a direction and instead, simply pour what comes to you onto the pad and ask questions later.
Chapter 1. Right here. Enjoy.
(Fellow writers, please tell me if you're satisfied. I need some useful criticism.)
Book, story, script, it's never really mattered HOW it came to life, the point has just been to tell the tale and bring it to life. Recently, since I've started planning to go back to writing on a regular, constant basis, I finally churned out a new, passable, much more well-rounded opening to said story.
The plot itself is still a mystery, even to me. But sometimes, it's best not to try so hard to look for a direction and instead, simply pour what comes to you onto the pad and ask questions later.
Chapter 1. Right here. Enjoy.
(Fellow writers, please tell me if you're satisfied. I need some useful criticism.)
SCENE 1: "Beginning With The End."
(Outdoors. Metropolitan area. Early morning. In a world not unlike are own in any way but name and cosmiclocation. On the corner of a large intersection stands a cylindrical tower, rought 9 stories tall, at the base of which is a restaurant, with a collection of tables set and seated outside beneath several burgundy canopies. The banner above the entrance bears two large, silver E's, mirroring one another. Sitting at a table near this entrance are our heroes; Sebastian Oleander, a young, roughly-faced fellow dressed entirely in black, his eyes shrouded by round-lensed glasses, a black beanie cap atop his head. Across from him sits his comrade, the taller, stockier Jonathan Cross, adonning a military jacket, blue jeans fitted with a holster and a .38 pistol tucked beneath said jacket, a black shirt with white lettering and the words "HAVE A GREAT FUCKING DAY" written in a scratchy font, and polarized aviator glasses sitting across his eyes beneath the rim of a baseball cap. They both have the same items in front of them; a cup of house coffee on one side, a pack of cigarettes on the other. Jonathan removes one from his pack and lights it with an emerald green Zippo lighter, while Sebastian stares emptily into his coffee cup and shuffles a book of matches between his fingers.)
Jon: "You know, you've never once told me how you ended up here."
(Sebastian snaps out of his trance and looks up towards Jon.)
Sebastian: "Come again?"
Jon: "You told me long ago that your life began and unfolded out west. That town they built out in the sand to parallel old Vegas...Zero District, no? That you were a child of the desert of vice...(he takes another drag and savors the exhale)...and I've never heard you say a word of its relevance to you that wasn't poignant or positive. And yet, in all the years gone by that you and I have been partners, friends, and allies...and for all we've endured as a pair, I still to this day have absolutely no idea what it was that drove you to leave for Elysium and land in the shadow of the falls in the first place. (He takes off his glasses and puts them on the table beside his pack.) I always assumed it was left unspoken for a reason, so I never bothered to bring up the topic...but I figure, given the day we have ahead of us, now would be as good a time as any to ask."
(Sebastian, staring downwards again, lets out a deep sigh and casts his eyes upwards towards Jon as he also unsheathes a cigarette. He pulls a match, strikes it, and lights up.)
Jon: "Always with the fucking matches and your blood grudge against lighters..."
Sebastian: "Funny you should say that while we're now drawn to this subject...(he exhales and stirs his coffee in his hand like a brandy glass)...The scent of the sulfer reminds me of home. There were no rules or regulations pertaining to fire in Zero as long as you don't torch anything toxic, mainly because the district's resources had always been stretched relatively thin given their proximity from anything useful, so when things required disposal, they were done away with in flames. And because such practices were so common, and boredom wasn't difficult to find, oftentimes people would get to igniting a blaze simply for the sake of having something to do. There was always a hint of fire in the air...never particularly overwhelming or revolting, but 9 times out of 10, you could count on wandering town accompanied by the subtle scent of a pyre. Seemed like a great idea at the time..."
Jon: "I take it this has something to do with your departure..."
(Sebastian takes another drag and folds his hands under his chin, pensive, hesitant. He exhales with another deep sigh and takes a sip of his coffee, staring into the street they sit besides. As he watches the cars go by, he speaks.)
Sebastian: "When I was young...halfway through high school, there was a girl."
Jon: "There's always a girl..."
Sebastian: "Her parents had named her Dawn because she'd been born at the apex of a sunrise. She lived a couple of districts away, closer to the coastline, and we met crossed paths at a meet...nerdy though it may have been, we were both the shimmering stars of our schools' respective debate squads, and we became friends over a long and heated argument over the energy crises of the old world, our individual thoughts on how to go about avoiding such scenarios here, etcetera etcetera...we were bonded in that battle and ended up staying in touch for a long time thereafter. (He takes another drag as he glances at the people walking by along the sidewalks.) Neither of us were particularly fond of the youth in our towns, so in a way, we saved each other the trouble of having to deal with the imbecillic populations we were both stuck living among. And, like any pair of foolish teenagers enamored with one another, our hearts grew fonder with every passing gathering. Like clockwork, every monthly meet would bring us together for a weekend, and joy would ensue. Given that homefield advantage is nonexistant when it comes to the art of the debate, it was easier for the schools with more capable means of travel to come to us rather than us to them. And given that this routine would only last us until graduation came and went, we started to plan for the days ahead, and put aside a week of the summer to travel eastward together and adventure our way towards...plotting a future...(His voice trails off as he drags again, his eyes once again fixed on his coffee.)
Jon: "I can tell by the sound of your voice that this is where things take their terrible turn, so before this tale reaches it's ugly conclusion...will you be handling this particular transaction, or will I?"
Sebastian: "...Ehh, I think I did a sufficient job cleansing my conscience last night, so you're welcome to handle this one."
(Jon breaks out a smile and puts his glasses back on as the sun begins to shine upon them from between two apartment buildings across the way.)
Jon: "Excellent! (Under the cover of the table, he unholsters his pistol and places it on his lap, removes a clip and a case of bullets from his jacket pocket and begins loading it.) Please, continue. What went wrong? She leave you for a jock? A cheerleader? Join a monastery?"
(Sebastian unwillingly lets out a slight chuckle; he looks up at Jon.)
Sebastian: "My friend, I honestly wish it could've been that simple...I really, really do."
(Jon's face grows serious as he continues slowly packing the magazine.)
Jon: "Shit...so this really does have a horrid ending. What happened?"
(Sebastian takes another silent, pensive drag.)
Sebastian: "We settled on the week of my birthday...she would drive in from Bering Bay, we'd load up on all number of useful supplies, and make the drive out east to Luminaire City to see the sights and take in the world together...the families were happy, friends were supportive, our teachers all aflutter that something as simple as a fucking debate meet could give rise to something wonderful like this, and...all appeared right the world..."
Jon: "Until..."
Sebastian: "...Until she decided to surprise me by coming in a night early and surprising me with a midnight arrival, and her car broke down on the outskirts of town. See...Zero District had been having a serious problem no one really wanted to speak of or acknowledge. There was a new substance making its rounds; a drug whose origins were unknown, and whose effects were becoming more and more fearsome as more and more people managed to get their hands on it...Had kind of a silly name, though. They called it "Brains."
Jon:. "Brains? Like...like zombies, monsters, 'Raaaagh, eat your brains' fuckin' Brains?"
Sebastian: "Precisely. As the story goes, it provided a high like no drug before it. Old world or new, there had never been anything that gave what Brains could give. Unfortunately, it got its name because of the effects it had on its users; eventually turning them into numbed shells of themselves, focused solely and unilaterally on maintaining their state, to the point that people were dying of starvation, thirst, and all number of terrible circumstances because they'd been voided of the need or desire to consume anything but their precious drug. Much like a zombie, whose principal and sole desire is to, as you put, eat your brains."
Jon: "Brains. Sounds like a fucking trainwreck ready to happen."
Sebastian: "Funny you should say that...Dawn's car broke down at a train crossing. At a point of the district where everything closes after dusk, and it's more or less impossible to pick up a cell signal, she had no way of getting in touch with me to get her the hell out of there. The only people who were out there...were a pack of fiends. Completely shelled out from god knows how much time of Brain damage - "
Jon: "That's a good one."
Sebastian: "I thought you'd appreciate it. Anyhow...from what the reports and law enforcement could gather after it was over...there was only one eyewitness report, but it was quickly withdrawn, presumably out of fear that whoever was feeding the fiends would cause them trouble as well...there were quite a few of them, more than any sole person would be able to handle regardless of their drug-addled state...and they descended on her looking for anything worth pawning off or trading in to supply their habit. Evidently...one of the habits of prolonged exposure to Brains is a sever increase in violent, psychotic behavior..."
(There's a long, palpable silence, broken only by Jon loading his now-packed magazine and cocking his pistol.)
Sebastian: "They killed her...pilfered every useful item she had to her person, burned her body in one of the nearby pyre pits, and were never seen in that part of the district again. It's almost like...like somehow, some fucking way, they were only there to intercept her and extinguish her goddamn life. There's 'wrong place, wrong time,' and then there's just outright 'how the fuck does something like this happen?' I was taking packing my gear and waxing philosophically with my parents out back when the phone call came...I hadn't even been expecting to hear from her until the next morning when she was supposed to leave, so imagine my surprise when I get a phone call telling me she'd been found in town....nearly in pieces. Just like that...all that joy, all that hope, the emotion, the devotion, every (He slams his fist into his lap) fucking moment we'd had together since we met...erased by a fucking pack of drugsick wolves."
(Jon simply stares at Sebastian without words, uncertain what to say to this revelation.)
Sebastian: "And the part that made absolutely no sense, that puzzled everyone the most and still hasn't been decrypted to this day...it wasn't the act itself. It was her car. The train tracks at the intersection she'd gotten stuck at came around on a curve from behind a strip mall, which meant whoever was conducting it would have no idea what he'd be seeing ahead of him until it was too late...Instead of simply taking what they'd come for and moving on, they pushed it onto the tracks to be obliterated by the next passing locomotive. About an hour after the deed was done, said locomotive barreled into her car and blew it halfway to hell; that's how they ended up finding her so soon after, when the conductor reported the incident and the law came and discovered the scene...otherwise no one would've even known she was there until the shopkeepers came back the next morning."
Jon: "Why the fuck would a pack of murdering druggies be so concerned with the car?"
Sebastian: "To this day...nobody knows. And I didn't want to stick around to find out. Were it not for my blatant determination to keep pushing on with life in her honor, I probably would've bended into the biggest of benders and scoured the town with a machete, a handle of whiskey and a bag of grenades, dismembering anyone and everyone even remotely resemblant of anyone and everyone who knew of the Brains epidemic. But it wasn't worth it, for me or my family...they ended up making good on our plans and relocated to one of the boroughs of Luminaire City, and I came to school here in Elysium so rebuild my life and try as hard as I could to avoid implosion..."
(The watch on Jon's wrist begins to beep. He glances at it. 8:00 am.)
Jon: "...How'd that turn out?" (He unsheates a flask from his jacket.)
Sebastian: "Suppose it could've gone worse."
(He pulls two shotglasses from his pocket, which Jon proceeds to fill with the liquid in his flask. They both look stare through the glass panes of the restaurant at the man behind the podium in the center of the floor. A normal looking fellow in a red and white uniform filling out a form. The inside is unpopulated save for the seven staff members and a pair of gentlemen in a booth towards the back.)
Jon: "Shall we?"
(Sebastian removes a pistol identical to Jon from the inside pocket of his jacket and cocks it. They pick up their shotglasses and toast.)
Sebastian: "For Elysium."
Jon: "For Elysium."
(They take their shots, make the obligatory sour faces, and rise from their seats, guns in hand. They walk inside, unnoticed by the staff, the pair in the booth, and the man at the podium, almost phantom-esque in their approach, Jon on the left and Sebastian on the right. They approach him as his gaze finally rises to notice their arrival. His name tag reads "Charles," and his expression is that of uncertain surprise. Taken aback by their militant appearances, he forces an awkward smile.)
Charles: "Can I help you, gentlemen?"
(Sebastian removes his glasses and puts them in his pocket. He looks Charles in the eyes."
Sebastian: "Yes, Charles, you most certainly can. We'd like the keys to the basement."
(Charles' expression shifts drastically as the color rapidly leaves his face.)
Charles: "I'm...not sure I understand your request, sir."
Sebastian: "Yes you do, Charles. You understand my request perfectly. You couldn't possibly confuse with any other request either of us could make of you. We're not here for the daily special, we're not here for a hearty breakfast, and we're certainly not here to be dicked around by a fucking middleman in a sweater vest. (Both Jon and Sebastian simultaneously raise their pistols and point them directly at Charles' eyes as the rest of the restaurant's occupants freeze in place.) So I'm going to ask you one more time, and if you deny me the item I'm asking of you, that I know for an absolute fact you're holding in the chest pocket of your stupid fucking outfit, then you, your staff, and the two unfortunate gentlemen sitting in that booth to the back of you are going to be force-fed every fucking round of ammunition my friend and I have in our possession. We would like...the keys...to the fucking basement."
(Charles, trembling from head to toe, slowly reaches into his pocket and removes a key ring with several keys.)
Charles: "You don't...please, don't do this...you don't want to know what's down there, sir."
(He extends his hand and the key towards them, Jon snatches it away.)
Sebastian: "We'll take our chances. Have a wonderful day, Charles."
(The two of them fire a round into Charles' head and he drops. Ignoring the still-frozen and terrified occupants remaining, they stand over him, looking down at his now lifeless body, and slowly, simultaneously glance away towards a lone door along the back of the restaurant. They look at each other, then at the occupants on whom their guns are still pointed for safety's sake. Jon clears his throat and speaks.)
Jon: "Ladies and gentlemen...I have but two things to say to you, then my colleague and I will gladly allow you to leave and do as you wish, as any reporting of this incident that may be made will be irrelevant to our purpose for being here. The first...for those of you curious as to why this has transpired, and why this (he kicks Charles' lifeless body forcefully in the side) piece of shit now lays dead before you, I can promise you for all my word may or may not be worth to you, that it was for a very good, justifiable reason, the likes of which I hope you will one day have explained to you.
(Sebastian takes the key from Jon and begins walking towards the back.)
Sebastian: "Jon, if you'd please hurry up the goodbyes..."
Jon: "And the second...is that both my colleague and I highly recommend to anyone who wishes to remain in the land of the living, and not become the next casualty of our endeavor, depart the moment we get behind that door, and get themselves and anyone who'll listen to their frantic screams of terror as far away from this building as quickly as they are humanly or inhumanly capable of, as we are not yet sure whether or not what destructive results the job we've come here to do are going to wield."
(Sebastian begins yelling profanities as he struggles to find the right key.)
Jon: "But seeing as we are NOT, contrary to what you may believe, the bad guys in this situation, it is our duty to do all that we can to ensure that what's behind that door cause as little harm or damage as possible. So please, when that door closes, help us help you, and get yourselves and everyone outside those doors the flying fucking hell out of dodge, do you all understand?"
(The occupants all nod their heads in agreement. Sebastian finally finds the right key, pops the lock, and opens the door.)
Sebastian: "On a final note...um...in the event that we don't make it out of here in one piece, when the truth of all of this comes out, please do well to remember what you've seen today and remember us for the better, drink 4 glasses of milk a day, don't forget to stop on your right foot, never say Bloody Mary into a mirror three times, and ALWAYS tip your waiters and waitresses."
Jon: "THAT'S how you say goodbye?" (He approaches the door behind Sebastian and looks down the stairwell in front of them.)
Sebastian: "I figured they could use a laugh."
(They look back at the occupants, look at each other, and close the door behind them.)
Scene.