ANTEMORTEM. Written by. Sarah Drury

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ANTEMORTEM Written by Sarah Drury 128 East 39th St. Norfolk, VA, 23504 (757)748-6368

FADE IN: EXT. SAULL HOUSE - DAY A girl sits on the front steps of her house. The building is large and crisp, the product of wealth. She is SAULL, 17, a remarkably stunning young girl with delicate, feminine features. Physically, she is petite with a soft face but there is a strength in her eyes that cannot be missed. Her leg shakes. She scratches at her clothed arm. A young boy on a bike comes speeding over the hill, his grip on the handles begins to wobble. Amelia watches, eyes wide, as he tumbles over the front of his bike, skidding down the concrete, flesh tearing from his legs. She grabs her bag and races to him. Whoa there, kid! She immediately crouches to his level. He is trembling, small hands grasping at a massive but shallow wound on his leg. Blood is already beading at the surface. He begins to whimper. (CONT D) Oh no, buddy. No tears now. We ll have you all patched up in no time. He struggles to hold them back as she takes a thin sweater from her bag, pressing it to his leg. She notices him wearing a SUPERMAN shirt and smiles, bright and utterly gorgeous. (CONT D) Do you think Superman would cry if he fell off his bike? The boy blinks as she tugs his shirt, a tear or two slide down his plump cheeks. He shakes his head with a sniffle. (CONT D) Exactly. Now, what would Superman do?

2. Confused, he looks up at her. (CONT D) Superman would get right back up. Wouldn t he? His small mouth lies agape for a moment until he nods, quickly and with determination. (CONT D) That s right. She nudges his chin gently with her knuckle. (CONT D) Now suck up those tears, little man. He does what he can, sniffling up snot and wiping tears as she presses the cloth into his wound to prevent more bleeding. Joseph! WOMAN A somewhat heavy set woman comes scurrying over the top of the hill, squealing. WOMAN (CONT D) Oh my God, Joseph! I told you not to speed over this hill! It s dangerous! She races towards them, Amelia grins at her. Oh, he s just fine, ma am. Got a pretty bad scrape but it s nothing a few bandages won t fix. The woman crouches next to them, shaking dramatically. Amelia raises a brow at her. WOMAN Are you alright, sweetie?! Joseph nods, most of the tears dry. The woman looks to Amelia. WOMAN (CONT D) Oh, thank you so much, young lady! It s no problem.

3. The door to Amelia s house opens. A woman, tall but thin slithers out. SAULL, mid-40 s, is a seemingly frail looking woman with a steel gaze. She holds a tight posture, rigid and unyielding with her lips set permanently in a tight line. Amelia! Amelia visibly stiffens as she turns to see her mother. Yes, Mother? Joanna smiles, lips stretching almost unnaturally at the corners. Her teeth are exposed, almost fang-like. Can you come in here? I need your help with something! Amelia offers the woman a warm smile, allowing her to keep the sweater to cover the wound. Feel better, kid. She winks at him and she retreats to the house. Her home is on a large plot of land and each house in the neighborhood has at least half a mile between them. Amelia trots up the stairs, gliding past her mother and being careful not to touch her. Joanna watches her slowly before turning to give the woman in the street a tight lipped smile and a curt wave. She shuts the door and locks it with a loud click. INT. SAULL HOUSE - DAY (O.S.) (timid) What did you need? The house is spotless and accented with various shades of grey and blue. The furniture is modern but homey. Yellow flowers pop on the living room table. A large electric fireplace glows with blazing flames. Joanna smiles with an innocence that appears more disturbing than comforting. She steps toward her daughter.

4. On the mantle beside her is a row of family photographs. I just need you to help me downstairs. Amelia visibly flinches, eyes hardening. I helped you this morning. Joanna s smile fades. It will only take a minute. There was a bit of a mess, the least you could do is help clean up. Her tone melts into a growl, the amber color of the fire flickering in her EYES. Joanna takes another step towards Amelia and she winces, leaning away. Her mother, while physically not much bigger than her, towers with an imposing aura, causing Amelia to shrink in comparison. Fine. Her mother grazes by her, their arms barely brushing. Amelia slowly turns and follows behind. A door CLICKS open. The family PHOTOGRAPHS show four smiling faces. One is a young BOY, arms entwined around a smaller Amelia. They look alike. The frames SHAKE as a door shuts heavily. INT. BASEMENT - DAY A tall, narrow staircase leads to another locked door. Amelia fidgets behind her mother as she unlocks it. Your dad won t be home for a few hours. Should give you plenty of time.

5. She pushes the door open and heads inside. Amelia, almost mechanically, shuts and locks the door behind her before following. After rounding the corner they are brought into the main expanse of the basement. It is filled with boxes and other randomly stored items, layered with DUST. Amelia follows Joanna, deep into the back, in the corner where there is an old dresser. It has been pushed away from the wall slightly. Joanna slides behind it to reveal a hidden DOOR. She enters. INT. HIDDEN ROOM - DAY The walls are dark slabs of concrete as well as the floor, swallowing any noise that might try to squeak out. Joanna pulls a string dangling from the ceiling and lights up the room with a fluorescent, mind-numbing glow. In the center of the floor is a small drain. In the corner a large furnace. Joanna advances across the room, sighing with exhaustion. Amelia watches her from afar, hesitant. He was a thrasher. Made an awful mess of things. Joanna stops in front of a long, metal table, settled against the wall. She flicks on another small light above it. Amelia watches her back. (CONT D) Don t just stand there like an idiot. Her mother doesn t even look at her as she lifts a hand, gesturing over her shoulder for the girl to come closer. Amelia closes her eyes, fingers curling into tightly clenched fists. She steels herself, taking slow steps toward her mother. The CLICKING of her boots against the smooth floor echoes eerily in the silence.

6. Her steps cross over from the grey floor into rivers of RED, slithering away from a pool that has formed under the table. There is a constant DRIPPING. One. Two. Three. A single drop of blood slipping from the edge of the table to the floor. Amelia keeps her eyes on the wall ahead, ignoring the wet squishiness under her shoes. Her mother gazes at the table contemplatively. (CONT D) I figured he would get tired after the first night. Resilient one. She sighs, reaching over to slide a pair of latex gloves on each hand. Amelia flinches as each one SNAPS into place against the skin of her mother s wrists. (CONT D) Didn t even stop after I took out his eyes. Joanna huffs a short laugh. (CONT D) Silly boy. Amelia looks down, a wavering exhale deflating her chest. The man lying on the table hardly looks like a man anymore. His eye sockets are crusted with blackened blood. His mouth left gaping open, lips sliced and tongue severed. He looks like he is still screaming. His gut is sliced, innards exposed, tumbling and twisted like ribbons. The fatal wound is a slash mark across his throat. Amelia is not shocked. She instead, looks defeated. She has seen this before. (CONT D) I need you to clean the table and the floor, then you can help with the rest. Amelia does not take her eyes off the man. Her head starts to shake back and forth, almost imperceptibly. Joanna slides over a metal tray, across it is a row of numerous knives of varying style and size. She clutches one with a seven inch blade, it glimmers in the light.

7. Amelia is frozen. Joanna grabs her chin roughly, forcing her daughter to turn and look at her. Amelia winces at the painful grip. Her eyes shimmer with tears. (CONT D) Don t make me say it again. Joanna growls viciously. She grits her teeth and rips her hand away, snapping Amelia s head once more. Amelia keeps her eyes closed for a moment as she breathes in, a feeble attempt to compose herself. Before she knows it, she is on her hands and knees, bloodying clothes and paper towels. The mess smears about the floor. Her mother hums and brings down the blade. She cuts off one finger and then two. She sets them on the tray. (CONT D) Stall as much as you want. You ll still have to help me eventually. Amelia s hands quiver and she stills, surrounded in filth. The HUMMING gets louder. Amelia shuts her eyes and scrubs vigorously. INT. SAULL KITCHEN - DAY Joanna shuts the oven, inside is a pan of unknown and somewhat mysterious sustenance. Amelia stands at the sink in a fresh change of clothes, washing her hands with violent intent. Blood is caked under her nails. RED runs down the drain. I expect you ll be more enthusiastic next time.

8. (CONT D) Had you finished sooner it would have taken me half the time to cut him up. Amelia feels the weight of her mother s seething glare on her back. She lets out a quivering exhale. DING. The doorbell. Both of their heads pop up. INT. SAULL LIVING ROOM - DAY Her mom saunters to the door, a smile already brightening her face as she opens it. Amelia approaches the entrance of the living room. Two detectives stand, fidgeting on the front step. May I help you gentlemen? She flashes a smile. They offer their own in return. DETECTIVE Sorry to bother you Mrs. Saull. I m Detective Branson, this is my partner Detective Shaw. Amelia comes into view. Pleasure to meet you, Detectives. Is everything alright? Would you two like to come inside for a moment? DETECTIVE BRANSON is tall and broad shouldered, he has a chiseled jaw line and a charming smile. He stands with his shoulders set like a line-backer. This is a guy most wouldn t dare try and fool. He shakes his head. DETECTIVE BRANSON No thanks. We only need a minute of your time. What can I help you with?

9. DETECTIVE BRANSON We ve been talking to a few people around the neighborhood. A couple days ago a man by the name of Carl Sullivan was reported missing. He stuffs his hand in his pocket, fiddles around and displays a PHOTOGRAPH of Carl. The man that was dead in the basement. Joanna takes and examines the photo. Amelia slowly approaches the door, peering discreetly at the picture as well. DETECTIVE BRANSON (CONT D) His wife says that he always comes home straight after work and on the off-chance that he doesn t, he calls. But she hasn t heard from him in almost a week. Joanna masterfully plasters on a concerned expression. Do you think something happened to him? Is there cause for worry? DETECTIVE BRANSON We re not sure yet. We haven t found any signs that he s been hurt. Right now we re just going door to door to see if anyone has spotted him recently. He does a lot of lawn maintenance in this area and his truck was found abandoned about twenty minutes from here. Joanna turns to show the photograph to Amelia. I don t believe I ve seen him. Hun, have you see this man anywhere, recently? Amelia glances at the detectives, worried. She leans over, her HAND, with blood caked fingernails grips the inside of the door frame. She shakes her head.

10. He s got a familiar face but...i can t say I have. Sorry. Amelia smiles sadly at them. Her bloody hand fidgets just out of sight. Sorry we can t be of more help. She hands him the photo. He glances between both women with a tight-lipped smile, there is a slight hesitance in his movements. Detective Branson is reading them. DETECTIVE BRANSON It s alright, we appreciate you taking the time to talk with us. Just be sure, if you see or hear anything, to give the station a call. Absolutely. I ll ask my husband about it also. Please, let us know if there is anything more we can do. Detective Branson nods with a thankful smile and departs with his partner. Joanna rolls her eyes the moment their backs are turned and shuts the door. Joanna makes her way back to the kitchen. Amelia stares at the door. (O.S.) (CONT D) Alright. I m taking this to work. Amelia peels some dark BLOOD from under her nail. Joanna comes back out with a freshly covered pan of food. (CONT D) Everyone wants to know where Mr. Sullivan is so badly - they can have a bite of him themselves. She shoves the tray into Amelia s hands while she puts on her coat. (CONT D) Tell your father about the cops whenever he bothers to grace us with his presence.