Blade Page #6

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KAREN:

(sarcastic)

So what do you use, then? A stake?

WHISTLER:

(nodding)

Some of the old wives' tales are true

-- they're severely allergic to

silver, various types of wood. Feed

them garlic and they'll go into

anaphylactic shock --

Whistler picks up a customized rifle with a UV entry light, flicking

on the beam.

WHISTLER:

-- and of course there's always

sunlight, ultra-violet rays.

Karen shakes her head, incredulous --

KAREN:

And you honestly expect me to believe

all this?

BLADE:

I don't care what you believe. I

saved your life once, I don't plan on

making a habit of it. You want my

advice, you'll be out of the city by

nightfall. If you're stupid enough to

stay, that's your business.

KAREN:

I can't just leave. I have a life

here, a career --

BLADE:

Not anymore. You've seen one of them.

You won't be allowed to live after

that.

Karen stares at Blade. Whistler gestures to the windows --

WHISTLER:

There's a war going on out there.

Blade, myself, a few others -- we've

tried to keep it from spilling over

onto the streets.

(beat)

Sometimes people like yourself get

caught in the cross-fire.

Whistler shrugs. As far as he's concerned, there's nothing else to

say. Karen is still protesting, though.

KAREN:

I can go to the police. I have blood

samples back at the hospital. I can

show them.

BLADE:

Do it. You'll be dead before you can

file the complaint.

KAREN:

That's ridiculous! No one's that

powerful.

Whistler sighs. He doesn't suffer fools gladly.

WHISTLER:

You're talking about a brotherhood

that predates the Catholic Church by

thousands of years. Their survival

depends on their ability to blend in.

Chances are, you've encountered them

and not even known it. On the subway,

in a bar --

Blade slings his CAR-15 onto his shoulder, impatient. He starts

towards the Olds, gesturing.

BLADE:

Get in. You’re leaving.

WHISTLER:

Wait.

Whistler tosses a small metal canister to Karen.

WHISTLER:

Consider it a parting gift. Vampire

mace -- silver nitrate, essence of

garlic.

KAREN:

(in disbelief)

So that's it? You guys just patch me

up and send me on my way?

WHISTLER:

There is one other thing. I'd buy

yourself a gun if I were you. If you

start becoming sensitive to the

daylight, if you start becoming

thirsty regardless of much you've had

to drink -- then I suggest you take

that gun and use it on yourself.

Better that, than the alternative.

Karen stares at Whistler, horrified, as we --

CUT TO:

INT. THE VAMPIRE ARCHIVES - DAY

We are deep in the narrow stacks of a sepulchral archive. Exactly

what and where this place is will become more clear later on.

But for now, the CAMERA DRIFTS through the warren of aisles. Along

the way, we catch a glimpse of a HULKING SILHOUETTE cowering behind a

series of Japanese shoji screens. Later on, we find --

FROST:

tucked away in a carrel, surrounded by books and scriptures, with

only the SICKLY GLOW of his laptop to provide light.

DRAGONETTI (O.S.)

What are you doing here?

Frost pauses, SEEING Dragonetti emerge from the shadows.

DRAGONETTI:

(outraged)

These archives are restricted to

members of the House of Erebus.

FROST:

Please. You and the other Elders

wouldn't know what to do with these

texts if your lives depended on it.

(cryptically)

Which, of course, they do.

DRAGONETTI:

You're wasting your time, Frost. Far

greater scholars than you have tried

to decipher these words. Whatever

secrets they hold have been lost.

FROST:

Perhaps.

Frost studies Dragonetti, a self-satisfied grin on his face. If the

act was intended to unnerve Dragonetti, it succeeded, though the

ancient vampire would never admit it.

DRAGONETTI:

What are you up to, Frost?

Frost shuts the lid on his laptop, rising, drawing intimidatingly

close to Dragonetti.

FROST'S VOICE

Wouldn't you like to know, Old Fang?

A beat as the young turk stares his elder down. Dragonetti is the

first to lose his nerve. Frost smiles and exits, leaving the old

vampire to lick his wounds.

CAMERA DRIFTS back to the hulking silhouette, which has been

eavesdropping on the conversation. It quivers in fear.

INT. BLADE'S OLDS (ON KAREN'S STREET CORNER) - DAY

Blade brings the car to a stop. Karen looks at him. His eyes are

hidden behind his glasses, his expression stone.

BLADE:

Remember what we said. Keep your eyes

open. They're everywhere.

EXT. KAREN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

As Karen climbs out, Blade swings the door shut behind her. The Olds

ROARS off down the quiet residential street.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING, LOBBY - DAY

Karen crosses the lobby, stepping into an elevator. Just as the doors

are closing, a WOMAN and TWO MEN duck in alongside her.

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

Silence, the uncomfortableness of an elevator ride magnified tenfold.

Karen can FEEL the eyes of her fellow passengers upon her. Finally

succumbing to paranoia, she hazards a glance -- would she be able to

tell if these people weren't human? The woman turns to Karen,

smiles --

Karen surreptitiously fishes the "vampire mace" from her pocket,

clutching it -- and now one of the men turns to look at her,

nodding --

INT. KAREN'S APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY - DAY

The elevator doors open. Karen hurries out, heads left, finds herself

in a deserted hallway. She looks back --

-- then skips a heartbeat as the trio also step out! As Karen raises

the canister of mace --

-- the trio turn and head down to the right. Karen breathes a sigh of

relief, shakes her head.

INT. KAREN'S APARTMENT - DAY

Karen enters quickly, bolting the door behind her. She picks up the

phone, dials 911 --

KAREN:

I need the police. This is an

emergency --

As Karen waits to be connected, she moves to the back entrance and

checks the locks -- then the windows, then the fire escape --

finally, a VOICE comes on the other end.

KAREN:

Hello? My name is Karen Jansen, I was

with Curtis Webb at Mid-Town Hospital

last night -- that's right, I

witnessed the attack --

(listening)

115 Aurora, apartment 3G. Yes, I'll

wait here. Please hurry.

Karen hangs up the phone and turns --

A SHAFT OF BRIGHT SUNLIGHT

streams in through a window. Karen forces herself to look at it and

winces, shielding her eyes. Again, she brings a hand to the bandaged

wound on her neck. She moves to the window, pulling the shade down,

frightened.

KAREN:

Get a grip on yourself, girl.

She sinks down into a chair to wait, setting Whistler's vampire mace

aside. Then she shuts her eyes, massaging her temples. We SEE --

A BRIEF FLASH OF

Quinn, his mouth opening wide, saliva dripping from his fangs. His

pupils pulsating hypnotically. We rush into his gaping maw and --

WHAM! We're back to reality. Karen wakes with a start, looks to the

windows -- time has passed, it's getting dark outside --

-- and someone is KNOCKING at the front door. Karen reaches for the

vampire mace, then moves to the door. She looks through the peephole,

cautious --

KAREN:

Who is it?

KAREN'S POV (FISH-EYE)

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