Abigail Page #3

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(distant thumping)

(floor creaking)

(heavy thumping)

(thumping, creaking)

(thumping continues)

(sighs)

(creaking, rattling)

(thuds)

(floor creaking)

I thought I heard someone

out here.

I'm not as stealthy

as I thought.

Want to come in?

I sort of have

this reputation

of being a professional.

So...

And so you have to do your job.

Hey, listen.

I don't trust

any of these other fucks.

So let's watch

each other's backs.

I was thinking the same thing.

(footsteps receding)

(soft chuckle)

(static pulsing)

(maniacal laughter over TV)

(laughing)

(cat meowing on TV)

CARTOON CAT (on TV): I'm that

hungry little kitty cat

you just read about.

(meowing)

I'm so hungry I could eat a...

a woodpecker.

Yeah, that's it.

(screams):

Oh, my God!

-What the f***?!

-No, it-it's me.

It's Dean, it's Dean.

-I'm sorry.

-What the f***, Dean?!

Just was trying to prank you.

-I'm sorry.

-It's not funny.

You can have it.

-Get out!

-Listen.

I saw the way you was

looking at me earlier,

and I thought we could just,

like, you know, vibe out or...

-Get the f*** out!

-Hey.

-I'm not looking at you, man.

-Whoa, whoa.

-Wait, wait, wait, wait.

-Get the f*** out!

-Stupid motherf***er!

-(groaning)

-God!

-I didn't mean to scare you.

I don't give a sh*t!

-Are you sure?

-F*** off!

Get the f*** out!

Go! Get the f*** out!

-All right.

-Get out!

Don't come back!

-CARTOON CAT:
Now,

my fine pigeon... -(sighs)

I'm going to pick you dry.

(fire crackling)

(snoring softly)

(lighter flicks)

(lighter flicking)

What the f***?

(water dripping)

(door creaking)

Hello?

Hello?

Is someone down there?

-(squeaking)

-What the f***?!

Scared the sh*t out of me,

little motherfuckers.

(squeaking)

Man, f*** this sh*t.

-(loud squeak)

-(squishing)

Ow! Oh, sh*t! (screams)

Help me! Help...

You're just in time for dinner.

CARTOON CAT:

Yeah?

What are you going to have

for dinner?

Help me! Help!

(distant clattering)

Dean?

Dean, you better not be

f***ing with me again.

Hey!

(trembling breaths)

(distant clattering)

(distant squeaking)

Stupid. (sighs)

(yelps)

(sighs)

You little sh*t.

Can't... (gasps)

(screaming)

(inhales sharply, exhales)

(sniffles)

(retches, coughs)

PETER:

Sammy?

(yells)

(quivering breaths)

What? What happened?

(quietly):

His head fell off.

I don't know.

Why do you have a dick

on your face?

-What?

-Just go get them.

Go get them!

-Okay.

-(Sammy sighs loudly)

Okay. Okay.

Help! Help!

What the f*** were you doing

down here, anyway?

I couldn't sleep.

I heard something.

What, you just had to come

and check it out, huh?

(inhales sharply)

You think I could do that?

Be honest. What does that

look like to you?

It looks like a f***ing

wild animal ripped him apart.

No. No. No. I'm not fu...

We're not f***ing going there.

Oh, f***.

Why are you all acting so weird?

There are stories

about Lazaar's hit man.

-Can we not do this, please?

-Valdez.

RICKLES:

I heard a story once.

Three of Lazaar's top guys

got pinched a few years ago.

The FBI flipped 'em.

Night before the trial,

they were all holed up

on the top floor of a hotel.

A dozen agents in the next room

and two on the door.

Next morning,

FBI goes into the room.

All they bodies

are ripped apart.

Limbs... and organs missing.

Decapitations.

That's his signature. Valdez.

He's a f***ing animal.

And there was no way

in and out of that room

except for the front door

or the 23rd-story window.

So how'd he do it?

-Bullshit.

-It's not f***ing bullshit.

That's not the first time

I heard that story.

We'd better check on the girl.

All right, let's game this out.

If Valdez

or anyone else is in here,

that means Lambert gave us up.

And I don't buy that.

Or Lazaar got to him and

beat our location out of him.

Are you f***ing kidding me?

Lambert is

a meticulous motherf***er.

He's very, very careful.

If he gave us up, that means

either one of us did it

or Valdez is in here

and he did it.

Or one of us is Valdez.

I, for one, would like to

revisit the cut-and-run idea.

PETER:

Yeah, but...

Wrinkles, now that Dean is dead,

-we have a bigger share.

-(gasps)

You're welcome to my share,

Pete.

You could be the richest

headless man in America.

Okay.

-He just died.

-Okay.

So messed up.

ABIGAIL:

Hello?

She's fine.

RICKLES:
Just because she's

still in there doesn't mean

that Valdez is not here.

I'm out.

You coming?

(Frank scoffs)

Suit yourself.

-You're leaving?

-Bye-bye.

PETER:

Bye, Wrinkles.

JOEY:

Come on.

Rickles.

Hey!

(rattling)

PETER:
Where the f***

did that come from?

What the f***?

(straining)

PETER:

Wrinkles.

Stand back.

(yelling)

It's locked.

Thanks, Peter.

(loud thudding)

(indistinct muttering)

Uh... what the f***

is happening?

PETER:
I think that, uh,

trying the door,

it, uh... it-it triggered it

or something.

F***. (grunts)

(gasps)

This whole thing is a trap.

Sh*t!

PETER:

Wrinkles! Where's...?

Hey. Where's Wrinkles going?

If this is Valdez,

maybe he checked on the girl

and left her there

to throw us off.

I'll see what I can find out.

What the f***?

I need to ask you something.

Has anyone besides me

and the man with the glasses

been in here?

No.

No one at all?

No.

Hey.

Can you pinkie-promise me that

you're not keeping a secret?

Abigail.

He's gonna hurt me.

-Who?

-The man with the glasses.

He told me I had to keep

a secret or he'd hurt me.

What did he say?

It's okay. You can tell me.

Abigail.

-Hey.

-(Abigail sniffles)

I'm not gonna let him hurt you.

But I need you

to tell me what he said.

(inhales sharply)

He said he works for my father.

He said his name was...

Valdez.

(door opens)

I need to talk to you right now.

I'll be right outside.

Someone stole my f***ing rifle.

Frank is Valdez.

-What?

-He told the girl.

Frank wanted to leave.

That doesn't make any sense.

He acted

like he wanted to leave.

If he's Valdez

and Lazaar's his boss,

then why kidnap his kid?

Maybe he and Lambert

are planning a power play.

(sighs) That skinny

motherf***er rips people apart?

Something doesn't add up.

Aside from Frank,

these guys are amateurs.

-You're Army, right?

-Medic.

-We can take 'em.

-We can take 'em.

If it's Frank,

he'll know how to get out.

Which means

so would I if I spend

about six minutes with him.

You take the other two.

Take the main staircase

while I go south.

We meet in the middle.

We gonna get through this.

I have to.

You have a kid?

We'll make sure you get home.

(sighs)

(Rickles sneezes, sniffles)

-(distant clattering)

-(gasps)

(wood creaking)

Rickles?

(raspy, strained breathing)

(strained, shallow breathing)

(Joey panting)

(Rickles gurgling)

(thumping, creaking)

This is so f***ing disgusting.

God, what the f***?

Where's Frank?

Don't point that at Sammy, Joey.

Seen Frank?

House this fancy, you'd think

they could put f***ing towels

in the...

Oh. Hey, Joey.

What's going on?

Why'd you do it?

Do what?

Bring us here to kill us.

Don't do it, Peter!

I don't know what the f***

you're talking about,

but you don't sound

very calm right now,

Little Miss Paranoid,

so forgive the precaution.

You guys know what the f***

she's talking about?

I think she thinks that

you brought us here to kill us.

Wow. Fantastic insight, Peter.

Care to share

what's on your mind, Joey?

You're Valdez.

You told the girl,

you killed Dean,

and you just killed Rickles.

Mr. Wrinkles is dead?

-I didn't tell that girl sh*t.

-Bullshit.

Wow. You got a lot

going on up there, junkie,

but your brain's not quite

putting it together, huh?

You let a little girl

get inside your head?

You're not as smart

as you think you are.

The girl, though,

she's f***ing inspired,

turning us

against each other like this.

I believe her.

Hmm.

Well, I hate to say it,

but I think

we're gonna have to get rough

with her.

No.

I'll do it.

(sets pool cue down)

Don't take another

f***ing step, Peter.

It, uh... it's my job, Joey.

Look, I just want to get to

the bottom of this, you know?

My team is dropping

like flies, and...

well, our guest

has besmirched my good name,

and I take that

very personally, you know?

(breath trembling):

Abigail?

I'm very sorry, okay?

(Peter groaning)

Joey, what's happening?

Just sorting something out.

I'm just trying

to do my job, huh?

F***ing put it down.

I'd really prefer not to

-have to f***ing shoot you.

-(Peter groans)

-What is he talking about?

-Get up.

(panting)

PETER:

Frank,

just shoot her.

She's not gonna kill me.

I might be wrong, Frank.

-Joey, I'm scared.

-F***ing put it down.

-I'm not f***ing around here.

-You promised, Joey.

I'm doing my best here, Abigail.

PETER:
Please point that

somewhere else.

JOEY:

You're not touching that girl.

-PETER:
Okay.

-FRANK:
Put it the f*** down.

JOEY:
Sammy,

little help would be nice.

PETER:

Don't pull Sammy into this.

FRANK:

We need to know what she knows.

JOEY:
Just let me

f***ing talk to her.

-PETER:
No, no, no, no, no.

I'll talk to her. -JOEY: Peter.

-Guys?

-JOEY:
You step the f*** back.

FRANK:
Put it down, or you

can die right f***ing now.

-PETER:
Guys, come on.

-JOEY:
Don't f***ing try me!

-Guys!

-Sammy!

Sammy, shut the f*** up!

What the f***? How the f***'d

she get out of those cuffs?

PETER:

Huh?

(shrieks)

-Holy f***!

-Aah! Get her off of me!

-(Sammy gasps)

-PETER:
F***! (yelling)

-(gun fires)

-(Abigail shrieks)

-Jesus f***ing Christ.

-(Sammy gasps)

-Did-did she get me?

-FRANK:
F***.

What the f***?

(all panting)

(inhales sharply)

-FRANK:
Oh, f***.

-SAMMY:
Aah! No, no, no, no.

-No f***ing way!

-What the f***?

(rasping exhale)

-(shrieks)

-(gasps)

(shrieks)

-(banging on door)

-What the f***?

What the f***? What the f***?

(Abigail continues shrieking)

We kidnapped a f***ing vampire.

-(panting)

-(distant shrieking)

A ballerina vampire.

Someone has been messing

with us ever since we got here.

Right? It's got to be, uh,

some kind of trick.

I don't know anyone that could

pull off a trick like that.

-Do you?

-I feel sick.

At least Valdez isn't in here.

The f***ing girl is Valdez,

you moron.

I thought her name was Abigail.

She isn't... There isn't a...

-Jesus f***ing Christ.

-(banging against door)

(banging stops)

Sh*t.

We got to get out of here.

There's got to be another way.

No, I checked

all the other doors.

These are some kind

of magnetically sealed locks,

and these shutters

are two inches thick.

You think

you can hack the locks?

-With what Internet?

-I don't know.

You-you can't do it manually?

SAMMY:
Well, even if I could,

I don't have any equipment.

You know, there's got to be,

like, a control room

or something.

Okay. What do we know

about vampires?

Th-That they're not real.

What are we talking about,

like Anne Rice

or True Blood,

you know, Twilight?

Very different kind of vampires.

Okay, we know

they feed off blood.

We're really doing this

right now?

They can turn other people

into vampires.

Oh. Okay, f*** it.

Um, they can turn into bats

and stuff like that.

Mind control,

they make you do sh*t.

They don't have a reflection.

Not listening to this.

Okay, how do we kill a vampire?

-FRANK:
Garlic.

-A stake through the heart.

-Crucifixes.

-JOEY:
Holy water.

FRANK:
Oh, you're

a f***ing priest now?

-Daylight is a big one.

-Oh, that's a good one,

but it's, mm, 3:30

in the f***ing morning.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Shut the f*** up!

Hey, dum-dum, we got

a real f***ing situation here.

So I don't give a sh*t

what you think.

Either you're helping us,

or you're 270 pounds

of dead weight.

Which is it?

Helping.

Just don't do that again.

There's pool cues

in the game room.

Go sharpen 'em into stakes.

Okay.

You, go check the kitchen

for garlic.

Alone?

-Yes, alone.

-Yep.

What are you thinking?

I say we tool up

and we kill her.

That's a mistake.

You said it yourself.

This girl is smart.

She's been manipulating us

from the start.

We don't know if any

of this stuff is gonna work.

And even if it does,

killing her would be the

stupidest thing we could do.

And why is that?

Because we lose the only

bargaining chip we have.

Well, what do you suggest?

We trade her to Lazaar

for our lives.

No. I'm not betting our lives

on your f***ing hunch.

I'm telling you,

she's gonna see you coming.

No. Debate is over.

Decision made. Okay?

I got 'em!

Sammy, those are f***ing onions.

Well... (scoffs)

I don't cook. I don't know.

All right, let's go kill us

a f***in'... vampire.

Good luck.

Oh, I'm not going.

I already told you why.

And if you put your hand

around my neck, you'll lose it.

I'm not gonna touch you.

Go put your feet up.

You two, on me.

Let's hit the kitchen first.

F***ing onions.

(flies buzzing)

(whispers):

F***.

-(Frank sniffles)

-(Sammy sighs)

Let's f***ing go.

-(Sammy yells)

-(Peter shouts)

What the f***?

(Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake

playing in distance)

(music growing louder)

(Peter yelling)

(music continues playing

over record player)

(breathing heavily)

What's happening?

Let's... let's just talk.

-(Sammy yelling)

-(Abigail shrieking)

-FRANK:
F***!

-PETER:
Holy sh*t!

(yelling)

(screaming)

F***ing help me, you f***ers!

(Frank yells)

-(Frank grunts)

-(Sammy groans)

(Peter yells, groans)

(pained moaning)

(grunting)

(Peter yelling)

(guttural gasping)

(whimpers)

(Frank grunts)

(screaming)

Oh, f***!

Oh! Oh! Oh! Jesus!

-(Sammy groaning)

-Oh, Christ! (groans)

(giggling)

SAMMY:

You're so bloody and so gross.

(Frank groaning)

FRANK:
Ah, Jesus, Mary and

motherfucking son of a b*tch!

Oh, f***!

(Frank groaning)

Oh, if you f***ing say,

"I told you so."

(groaning)

Oh, sh*t.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,

wait, wait, wait.

Oh! Motherf***er!

-Why didn't she kill you?

-She is f***ing with us.

Oh, f***!

I'm guessing

none of those weapons worked.

Well, the stake worked

on my f***ing leg,

and she used the crucifix

on Peter like a f***ing

pincushion,

and the garlic did f*** all!

-Shh. Shh.

-JOEY:
Well, I have one thing

we know does work.

When I jabbed her with this,

she was out, out.

If we can corner her,

it's nighty-night.

The Sleeping Beauty act

was bullshit.

JOEY:

No, it wasn't.

I checked her pulse,

and her breathing was slow

and steady.

We split up.

Whoever finds her first

alerts me through the comms,

and I come running

with the syringe.

FRANK:

That's great that you're

the only one

with a weapon that works.

Listen, you sit here and bleed,

or you trust me.

Yeah.

Sammy?

(whispers):

Okay.

F***.

(rhythmic clicking,

static crackling)

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