Thirteen Ghosts

THIRTEEN GHOSTS:

by

Neal Marshall Stevens

based on the screenplay by

Robb White

previous revisions by

Todd Alcott

Todd Alcott and Neal Marshall Stevens

Richard D'Ovidio

Richard D'Ovidio and James Gunn

current revision by

Richard D'Ovidio

REVISED PRODUCTION DRAFT

November 4, 2000

THIRTEEN GHOSTS -Rev. 10/27/00

BLACKNESS. SUPERIMPOSE: "The most beautiful thing wecan experience is the mysterious." -Albert Einstein

Then:
"I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks.

I do, I do, I do believe in spooks." -The Cowardly Lion

1 TITLES 1

Abstract images begin to form. They move beneath thetitles, brilliant against the darkness, the ghost-likeapparitions fighting a current as if caught in thewhirlwind of time.

Our IMAGE SHARPENS. The apparitions are no longer there.

Instead, police tape comes INTO FOCUS, the seeminglymiles of it entangled on stacks of derelict cars thatfill the void. The tape dances before us, undulating toa macabre rhythm, floating on the nocturnal winds. We

PAN.

An auto wrecking yard at midnight. Empty, yet occupied.

Light slowly INVADES the FRAME, filling in the wreckingyard's cavernous shadows. A distant ROAR announces

itself above the SOUNDTRACK, the earth POUNDING CLAMOR

AMPLIFYING in with every second.

As if searching for its source, CAMERA PIVOTS AROUND.

Instantly, we find ourselves caught in the glare ofheadlights, and we've just enough time to make out thesemi truck before it plows through the yard's chain linkgate, shattering it like so much glass, the truck headingdirectly AT CAMERA, running it over as if it weren'tthere.

2 EXT. AUTO GRAVEYARD -NIGHT 2

BOOMING UP and OVER the fence, the yard is a veritablemaze of old, rusted cars, piled up helter skelter, frozenin time. Broken glass, mangled engine parts, garbage andlitter... along with hundreds of spent shell casings, arescattered in the dirt.

A caravan of UTILITY VEHICLES ROARS in behind the semi,

the convoy making a bead for the center of the yard.

Picking up the rear is a black Rolls-Royce Phantom II.

As they turn the last corner, the first thing we see are"unearthly" flares. Dozens of them, bright as hell,

lighting up the middle of the graveyard.

The CARS come SKIDDING to a stop. Dust swirls.

2.

3 EXT. ROLLS-ROYCE 3

The rear door opens, and CYRUS KRITICOS, 50s, wealthy,

immaculately dressed, not a hair out of place, steps out.

His hand rests on a shiny, silver-headed cane. He

surveys the flares, shakes his head.

CYRUS:

Their little crusade is wearing

thin.

RAFKIN (O.S.)

I'll give them this... they are

consistent.

Stepping out next is DENNIS RAFKIN, 20s, unshaven,

jittery. He holds his head in his hands, massaging histemples, obviously in pain.

(NOTE:
Whenever we cut to Rafkin we hear/sense apiercing tone, underscoring the psychic waves he'sreceiving.)

Cyrus produces a thin, brown designer cigarette from asilver case. Taps it as he speaks.

CYRUS:

As cancer...

(lights his cigarette)

Never bet against human nature,

Dennis. You'll always lose.

Behind him, Rafkin suddenly lurches forward, racked by

spasms. Cyrus turns, with slight concern -

CYRUS:

Is it bad tonight?

RAFKIN:

(coughing, shaking)

Bad is one way of describing it,

but somehow...

(wiping his sweatyforehead)

... insane seems more appropriate.

Rafkin doubles over in pain. Dry heaves.

RAFKIN:

(recovering)

It's my professional opinion that

we get the hell out of here. Now.

Two of Cyrus's team, dressed in assault gear, make their

way over.

(CONTINUED)

THIRTEEN GHOSTS -Rev. 10/27/00 3.

3 CONTINUED:
3

CYRUS:

(ignoring Rafkin,

re:
flares)

Noted. Clean this place up, andlocate our guests.

Cyrus snaps his fingers. An ASSISTANT steps forward

with a large photo.

When Cyrus turns around, he catches Rafkin gulping downprescription drugs. Cyrus strikes the bottle out ofRafkin's hand with his cane. Pink medicine runs down

Rafkin's face as he turns with rage.

RAFKIN:

Come on, Cyrus, I gotta take theedge off.

CYRUS:

You know the routine. First

things first. Now where is he?

Cyrus holds it in the limo headlights; an aerial photoof the graveyard. Rafkin, closing his eyes, reachesout towards the photo with one hand, then touches the

earth with the other. A silent moment.

CYRUS:

Where?

Then a huge spark arcs between the psychic and theground. Rafkin jolts back, as if shocked.

RAFKIN:

Sweet Jesus, Cyrus, there's got tobe over forty victims here! I

thought you said this guy killedtwenty people.

CYRUS:

Twenty when he was alive. He's

added a few more since then.

Now where's the Breaker, Dennis?

Rafkin ignores the photo, and points at a spot deepinside the auto graveyard. Cyrus grabs a headset from

the Assistant.

CYRUS:

(into microphone)

All teams go to alpha. I

repeat!-

THIRTEEN GHOSTS -Rev. 10/27/00 4.

4 EXT. AUTO GRAVEYARD -NIGHT 4

Teams of men pile out of the vehicles. The back of the

semi is opened, revealing racks of remote-operatedamplifiers.

Others unload inch-thick, eight-foot-square sheets ofglass, rimmed with aluminum pipe, and inscribed withancient text.

The glass sheets are assembled to form a large cube.

Arrays of flood lamps illuminate the canyons of thewrecking yard in stark white.

One side of the cube remains open... allowing entryand --ready to come down in theory, and close theimprovised "mousetrap."

Rafkin walks up behind Cyrus, still massaging histemples.

RAFKIN:

Where'd he get a name like the Breaker

anyway? He a truck driver?

CYRUS:

It's simply folklore at work.

The local color exorcising its

demons...

Just then, a hideous HOWL ECHOES through the night -part

human, part God-knows-what. Everyone stops.

Rafkin swallows hard. Tosses away the empty prescriptiondrugs bottle, then opens an extra-large jar of aspirin,

pops a few into his mouth, crunches them like mints.

CYRUS:

... or maybe it's because he broke

his victims into as many pieces as

possible.

(exhaling smoke)

Who's to say...?

RAFKIN:

Cute...

A shrill cacophony of METAL AND GLASS erupts from themaze of the graveyard. A large, dense object flies outof the darkness and crashes down in front of them in a

cloud of dust.

It's a crushed car. Cyrus sighs...

(CONTINUED)

THIRTEEN GHOSTS -Rev. 10/27/00 5.

4 CONTINUED:
4

CYRUS:

I hate being rushed.

RAFKIN:

Cyrus, this one ain't like theothers...

(off the teams)

Do they know what we're upagainst?

CYRUS:

These men are well paid. That's

all they need to know.

RAFKIN:

But this is suicide...

CYRUS:

Then I'll match their price... and

yours.

RAFKIN:

You don't have that kind of money.

CYRUS:

You'd be surprised... now get towork.

This takes Rafkin by surprise. He turns, taking a step

towards Cyrus. Cyrus backs up, his cane instantly atRafkin's chest, keeping him distant. Rafkin becomes

suspicious.

RAFKIN:

What are you hiding, old man?

CYRUS:

Careful, Dennis, curiosity killedthe cat.

DAMON (O.S.)

Son-of-a-b*tch!

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