THE CROW



 	The CROW

	by

	Davis Schow

	based on a screenplay by
	John Shirley

	Based on the comic book
	created, drawn, and written by
	James O'Barr

	September 14, 1992

	FADE IN:

	EXT. CEMETERY - LATE AFTERNOON

	BOOM!  A crack of lightning illuminates the silhouette of a
	perched crow large in the f.g.

	TIGHT ANGLE - FRESH GRAVE

	As a spade smooths the walls of a new double-decker plot.

				DIMITRI (O.S.)
		We're losing the light; let's pack
		it in.

	ANGLE - DIMITRI AND ALEXI

	TWO GRAVEDIGGERS.  Scoop digger parked f.g. towering gothic-
	style church b.g.  Rolls of astro turf.  They look up toward 
	the sky.

				ALEXI
		Snow, maybe?

				DIMITRI
		What, you gonna ski on this?

	He indicates the mound of fresh dirt.  Spits into the grave.

				DIMITRI (CONT'D)
		Come on, let's bag this.  It's
		beer time.

	Alexi nods and unfurls the tarp over the dirt.

	LOW ANGLE TRACKING SHOT - FLOWERS ON GRAVES

	As we MOVE alongside a pair of canvas-sided combat boots, as the 
	wearer collects the most lively flowers from each grave in 
	sequence.

	TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

	Cemetery DEFOCUSED b.g.  Large, glossy-black, the bird follows
	the arc of movement in the previous shot.  Ruffles its feathers
	as it begins to sprinkle rain.

	ANGLE - ELLY - RESUMING HER MOTION

	A dirty-blondish tenement KID of eleven, clad in a blend of cast-
	offs and hand-me-downs; her version of street punk chic.  She
	totes a skateboard under one arm (itself a berserk Jackson
	Pollock chaos of band stickers, silver marker and graffiti, with
	day-glo wheels), and transfers her impromptu bouquet so she may
	unzip a flap and hike up a ragged hood against the rain.  She 
	stops to watch the grave diggers pack up and EXIT b.g.

				ELLY
		Guess the picnic got rained out.

	She looks down o.s. at --

	ANGLE - SHELLY WEBSTER'S GRAVE

	as Elly places the gathered flowers down.  Almost reverent.

	RESUME CROW ANGLE - ELLY B.G.

	as Elly takes a single white rose and places it atop the grave
	near Shelly Webster's.

	ANGLE ON GRAVE - AS ELLY LEAVES

	TILT UP from rose to the name: ERIC DRAVEN. Rain spatters the 
	granite, darkening it.

	EXTREME CLOSE-UP - CROW's EYE

	It blinks in its alien way.

	WITH THE CROW

	as it takes wing from it's unseen perch.  Lands stop Eric's
	headstone.  It pecks tentatively at the top of the monument.

	ANGLE - ELLY NEAR ERIC'S GRAVE

	She hasn't gotten too far before she notices the bird.

				ELLY
		Oh, scary.

	The bird blinks at her from the headstone.
				ELLY
		What are you, like, the night
		watchman?

	Another blink from El Birdo.

	CAMERA WITH ELLY -  BOOMING BACK HIGH

	as she exits the iron gates of the cemetery without looking
	back.  Brutal building facades, like dead eyes, and bad
	alleyways, like hungry mouths, are gradually revealed as we
	continue PULLING BACK to unveil that the cemetery is smack in
	the middle of the city.

	EXT. MAXI-DOGS - TWILIGHT - RAIN CONTINUES

	CLOSE-UP of a foot-long hot dog being drowned in mustard.

				MICKEY (O.S.)
		What this place needs is a good
		natural catastrophe.  Earthquake,
		tornado...

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND MICKEY

	ALBRECHT is a black beat cop, 35, in a rain slicker.

	MICKEY is the grease-aproned entrepreneur of MAXI DOGS, a steamy
	open-front fast foodery.

				ALBRECHT
		You gotta put the mustard
		underneath first.

				MICKEY
		Maybe a flood, like in the Bible.

				ALBRECHT
		Here, let me do it.

	He grabs the dog from Mickey.  Mickey puffs his cigar while he
	cooks.  Albrecht methodically spreads a napkin and performs
	surgery on the hot dog, coating the bun with mustard, rolling
	the dog in the bun.  Flashes Mickey a "gimme" look. 

				ALBRECHT
		Come on... onion.  Don't cheap
		out on me.  Lotta onions.

	MOVING ANGLE - AS ELLY SKATEBOARDS TOWARDS MAXI DOGS

				MICKEY
		Heyyy -- it's the Elly monster.

				ALBRECHT
		How do you ride that thing on a 
		wet street?

				ELLY
		Talent. Hi.

				ALBRECHT
		Care for a hot dog?

				ELLY
		You buying?

				ALBRECHT
		I'm buying.

	Elly grabs the stool next to Albrecht.  They`ve done this routine before.

				ELLY
		No onions though, okay?

				ALBRECHT
			(horror)
		No onions?

				ELLY
		They make you fart.

	Mickey laughs.  Spots Elly a Coke.

				MICKEY
		What's goin' on, Elly?

				ELLY
		I went to see a friend of mine.

				MICKEY
		Well, how's your friend?

				ELLY
		She's still dead.

	Albrecht and Mickey exchange a look re:  Elly's matter-of-
	factness.

	EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (RAIN)

	Thunder KABOOMS o.s.  The crow pecks the top of the stone again
	and a chip of granite flies off, bang!

	EXTREME CLOSE - THE HEADSTONE

	as the crow pecks again and draws blood from the rock.

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	A dot of blood on its ebony beak.

	LOW ANGLE - HEADSTONE

	A thin, watery trickle of blood wanders from the top of the
	stone towards the earth.  Rain does not interfere.  Lightning
	plays in the rolling cloud cover, b.g.

	RESUME THE CROW

	as it takes off from the gravestone, into the rain.

	CLOSE-UP - THE BLOOD

	It slowly fills the name Eric Draven into the rock.

	CLOSE-UP - FOOT TAPPER

	A LOW ANGLE like the SHOT introducing Elly's boot.  This time
	we see cowboy boots, leather chaps.  The foot taps.  Waiting.

	MEDIUM ANGLE - THE FOOT TAPPER

	as lightning strikes.  Just enough for us to see a figure in a 
	long duster and a cowboy hat.

	RESUME ERIC'S HEADSTONE

	DRAVEN fills with blood.  Blood continues groundward.

	NEW ANGLE - THE FOOT TAPPER

	Turning to meet FRAME as the crow alights on his outstretched 
	arm.  This is the SKULL COWBOY.  We glimpse the deathshead,
	beneath the brim of the cowboy hat.

	RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

	as blood trickles into the turf at the base of the grave.

	TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

	shaking off rain.  Watching intently.

	CLOSE-UP - THE SKULL COWBOY'S FREE HAND

	Black gloved.  It walks a flat silver throwing knife across it's
	knuckles, like a quarter somersaulting.

	RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

	The turf stirs beneath the white rose.  Magically, a slim white
	parts the earth to grasp the rose.

	SKULL COWBOY POV - ERIC's GRAVE

	as the figure of Eric Draven stands up from behind his own
	headstone.

	LOW ANGLE (FROM GRAVE) - ERIC

	Pale.  Clad in cerements: cheap black burial suit, slit open in 
	back.  WHite shirt.  A nothing tie.  No shoes.  Rain sluices mud
	from his upturned face.  He looks to the sky.  Lightning.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - FOLLOW ERIC

	as he weaves to lean against a nearby tree.  Looks o.s.

	ERIC's POV - THE SKULL COWBOY

	water-blurred, through the rain, standing with the crow perched
	on his arm like a hunting falcon.  He releases it and it flies
	to the tree.

	ANGLE -  ERIC

	Watching this.  Wipes mud from his eyes, tries to clear vision.
	The crow lights in the tree and they meet eye-to-eye.  Eric
	looks back o.s. and we RACK to include the Skull Cowboy.

				ERIC
		What the hell are you?

				SKULL COWBOY
		Interested?  Follow the crow.

	NB.  The Skull Cowboy speaks in nicely distorted, buzzlike
	charnal house whisper.  Unsettling and hackle-raising.

	Eric turns back to the bird, which takes wing in the rain, His
	eyes follow it.  He looks back, disoriented, doubtful, but the 
	Skull Cowboy is gone.

	LOW DEEP ANGLE - THE CROW

	Taking wing in the rain, showing the way.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

	alone in the cemetery.  After a moments hesitation, he lurches
	off, following the crow.

							DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH:

	A candy-flaked muscle T-bird is parked at the curb.

	INT. ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT

	A MOVING SHOT during o.s. lines.  Past dead video and pinball
	devices.  Pasta desk with an open briefcase, coffee cup,
	ashtray -- someone was just there.  Then past a WOMAN, trussed
	with duct tape to her office chair, gagged, hot fear in her 
	darting eyes.

	COMPLETE CAMERA MOVE to include SKANK, a blade-thin speed freak 
	with pattern baldness, always loud, jittery, a manic dust puppy.
	And T-BIRD, an arrogant Arayan, brush-cut iron pumper, who is
	prepping an incendiary.  He exhibits a small squeeze bottle of
	arson cocktail to Skank.

				T-BIRD
		Uncle T-Bird's 100-proof
		accelerator.  I squirt you with
		this, you could jump in the 
		Detroit river and burn all the way
		to the bottom.

	INSERT A CLOSE-UP of the bomb in his hands as he works.  Silver
	canisters, an LED timer, wires.

				T-BIRD (CONT'D)
		You know, Lake Erie actually
		caught on fire once, from all the
		crap in it.  Wish I coulda seen
		that.

	He CLICKS a switch.  PEEP.  LED countdown blurs.

				T-BIRD (CONT'D)
		We're ready to rock.

	Skank notices the captive woman's handbag on the floor.  Picks
	it up.  Looks through it for valuables.

				SKANK
		What about working girl?

	INTERCUT the woman's increasingly horrified reactions.

				T-BIRD
		What about her?

				SKANK
		I say we leave her here to fry,
		man.

	T-Bird looks casually at the woman.  Smiles hideously.

				T-BIRD
		No.  Let's take her with us.

	ANGLE - THE WOMAN

	Her eyes bug in a terrified NO!

	EXT. STREET - MOVING - NIGHT

	As the T-Bird fishtails wildly around the corner and eats street.

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELLING - NIGHT

	TB drives.  One eye on his digital watch (doing an equally
	fast countdown).  Skank wrestles their captive, the woman, in
	the back seat.

				TB
			(pissed off)
		Skank, shut her the fuck up!

	SKank punches her and she sags.  Then he looks forward.

				SKANK
		Whoaaa -- T-Bird, red light, red
		light!

	EXT. STREET CORNER NEAR MAXI-DOGS - NIGHT

	As the T-Bird slews wide, cutting sidewalk, scattering
	nightwalkers, immediately attracting everybody's attention.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT - AT MAXI-DOGS

	Reacting, with a mouthful.

				ALBRECHT
		Goddammit.

	Mickey grabs the counter phone instantly.

				MICKEY
		Call it in?

	Albrecht is off and running for the corner already.

				ALBRECHT
		Yeah, do it!
			(to Elly)
		Stay right there!

	HOLD ON MICKEY.  He points at Albrecht's hot dog.  Yecch.

				MICKEY
			(yelling after)
		You want I should save this for
		you?

	EXT. MOUTH OF ALLEY ACROSS FROM CEMETERY - NIGHT

	The car slides to a nose-down panic stop.

				SKANK (O.S.)
		Dump her, man, dump her!

	The woman comes tumbling from the car, which blasts off with a
	war hoop from the guys inside.

	ANGLE - CORNER - ON ALBRECHT

	Gun out, hauling ass on wet pavement.  Aims at the departing
	car.  Gives it up.  Still too far away.  Pedestrians in the way.

	ANGLE - THE WOMAN

	hurting, cut, bleeding, tottering toward the dumpster.  Duct tape 
	stuck to her face but cut away around her mouth.  With her as
	she falls into the alley darkness... straight into the arms of

	CLOSE TWO-SHOT - ERIC AND THE WOMAN

	Their eyes lock.  Eric stiffens with his first FLASH.

	NB:  Eric's flashes of past memory are conditioned by the nature
	of things with which he makes physical contact.  Hints and
	fragments in fierce, super-saturated COLOR.  Puzzle pieces he
	must assemble.  Each flash keynoted by a BLOWBACK NOISE and 
	accompanied by a degree of pain.  It hurts to remember.

	FLASH:  INT. T-BIRD - WOMAN'S STRUGGLE

	The faces of Skank and T-Bird are murky, ephemeral, their voices
	hideous, distorted echoes.  A knife snaps open.  We see the 
	blade.  Blood.  Skank hits her, pow! and --

				FLASH ENDS.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND WOMAN

	An airborne crow POV spiralling up and away from them.

							MATCH WITH:

	ANGLE - THE CROW

	perched on a fire escape, high above, watching and waiting.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AND WOMAN

	She fades.  He lets her drop away, horrified.  And staggers back
	into the cover of the alley.  Her blood is on his hands.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT RUNNING

	Skidding in, spotting the woman.  Kneeling to her.

				ALBRECHT
		Here now!  You're gonna be okay!
		Can you understand me?  I'm a
		police officer...

	The woman is no longer in pain.  Deathly calm now.

				WOMAN
		He touched me and it stopped.  The
		pain.

				ALBRECHT
		What did you say?

				WOMAN
		I saw a ghost...

	Her eyes roll back and she dies in Albrecht's arms.

				ALBRECHT
		Oh no... don't go, darlin', you
		stay with me, now... shit!

	HIGH ANGLE CROW POV - THE ALLEY

	BOOMING BACK from Albrecht, the woman, onlookers, as police
	units screech up to assist.

	EXT. ALLEY BEHIND ARCADES GAMES SUPPLY HOUSE - ON ERIC - NIGHT

	Eric in lurching flight, panting.  Stops and steadies against
	the wall across from the backside of Arcade Games.

	ANGLE - THE CROW (FLYING)

	Circling, then lighting on the fire escape above Eric.

	BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES - ("CROWVISION")

	"CROWVISION" is what the crow "gives" Eric to see.  Visually 
	distinct and immediately identifiable.

	ERIC'S POV - BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES

	Which he's already seen through the crow's eyes.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	looking up at the crow.  Disoriented.  Doesn't understand.
	Suddenly he cottons, and covers his eyes just in time to shield
	from:

	ANGLE - BACK OF ARCADE GAMES

	The rear windows EXPLODING outward in a spray of fire and
	debris.

	ANGLE - WITH ERIC

	he reels back, crashes into a dumpster.  Falls.

	ANGLE - THE CROW

	landing on the dumpsters edge near a pair of discarded combat
	boots in the trash.  Flames.

	LOW ANGLE - ERIC

	The blood from his hands mars his burial shirt.  He tears the
	shirt away, leaving his tie absurdly intact.  Wipes his face
	with his shirt.  Discards it.  Stops, held by his discovery --

	PUSH IN ON ERIC

	as his fingers explore the five puckered bullet punctures in his
	chest.  Almost a circle.  Comically, he feels his back foe exit
	wounds.  Then hauls himself upright, coming level with the crow.
	His glance at the bird is almost accusatory.

	ANGLE - THe CROW

	Inscrutable.  We should get the idea that some silent
	communication is taking place.

	ANGLE - ERIC'S FEET 

	bare, muddied, frozen.  TILT to Eric.  His gaze moves from the
	crow to the boots in the trash.  He grabs them, pushes them onto
	his bare feet.  His eyes catch the firelight.  Distant o.s.
	SIRENS

				ERIC
		Fire.  In the rain.

							DISSOLVE TO:

	INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

	We are now within the neon techno-depths of Club Trash.  The BG
	music is hard, savage, primal:  a doom-laden Radio Werewolf band
	rules.  Cabaret Blitzkrieg, packed with Death-to-Yup
	trendazoids.  We'll see more of this circus later.  Right now
	the BG SOUND is our biggest clue to the flavor of this
	establishment since we are --

	TIGHT CLOSE-UP A FRAMED 8X10

	Thinly filmed in dust, mounted among dozens of other band shots.
	Visible among the posed members of a group called Diabolique is
	Eric, wielding guitar on the club stage.  ND BLUR as people 
	CROSS FRAME.

	GRANGE, 45-50, powerful, a seasoned assassin, cruel but loyal.
	His facade remains stony as he leads three other men briskly
	down the corridor.:  NGO NWA, 50ish, clad Chinese gangster style
	- white topcoat, white scarf, tinted shades - and two body guards
	supplying a power perimeter around him,lean, dark-haired Asian
	killers who would gladly die for Ngo Nwa, which they will in 
	just a minute.

	They have just passed the Diabolique 8X10.  Ngo Nwa's gloved
	fingers, in passing, leave little skid tracks in the dust that
	clear the eyes of Eric in the photo.

	As the foursome reaches the DOOR, Grange turns doubtfully -- 
	suspiciously -- to Nwa.

				NGO NWA
		He will see me... unannounced.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - THE DOOR

	As Grange keys in the enter code the door hisses open.  Without
	a word, Nwa passes inside and the door is pulled shut in
	Grange's face by the Bodyguards, who post themselves to either
	side.

	INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

	The door CLOSES and the BG NOISE is GONE.  Through a large window
	(mirrored on the club side) all sorts of activity is visible
	through automatic mini-blinds.  A fly-vision bank of 12 TV
	monitors is hot with surveillance.

	LAO, a painfully clean-cut, Armani-clad Asian, impeccable,
	almost dashing, but the dynamic here is crystal clear: Nwa is
	the King: Lao, the dark prince in this hierarchy.

	At the desk, Lao is startled from his contemplation of a tiny,
	perfect rat skeleton by Ngo Nwa's unheralded entry.  The desktop
	is bare except for and Arcane Vietnamese fighting knife, half a
	meter long with an ideogrammed blade, dramatically positioned
	beneath an Artemide lamp.  Lao rises and feigns servility.

	NB:  The following exchange will play FAST, and entirely in
	VIETNAMESE.

				LAO
		(formal greeting)

				NWA
		(dismissiveness, contempt, then
		chastizing anger as:)

	Nwa INDICATES the blade with some ridicule.

				LAO
		(phony assuagement)

				NWA
		(knows it's bullshit)

	Lao turns, staring out the blinds, fighting for control.  Deep
	breath.  He turns back to his "master."  Nwa gestures broadly at
	the oppulent office, indicating that Lao should be grateful, but 
	is somehow errant
	 
				NWA
		(respect is required)

				LAO
		(begrudging agreement)

	Lao sees the blade.  An idea.  He lifts it reverently, bears it
	the Nwa hilt-first in both hands, as if bestowing a thing of
	immeasurable worth.

				NGO NWA
		(why give me this?)

	Nonetheless, Nwa accepts the blade.  It gleams.  Hypnotic. Even
	Nwa has to admire it.  Turns it so the blade is pointed at his
	sternum.  His attitude indicates Lao is too far away to do
	anything untoward.

				LAO
		(sinister punchline)

	Lao spins through the air and HEEL-KICKS the blade THROUGH Nwa's
	chest, pinning him to the door.  It's over so fast the gasp of
	astonishment never escapes Nwa.  Lao is much more than merely 
	treacherous, he is extremely capable.

				LAO
			(in perfect English)
		When I spoke of an offering, I
		didn't mean an offering to you.

	INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)

	Grange, standing out of arm's reach in the corridor, kills both
	Bodyguards with a double headshot as they turn in greeting as the
	door OPENS.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - CORRIDOR - LAO, GRANGE, AND CORPSES

	Lao exchanges a look with his right arm; Grange nods
	affirmatively.

				GRANGE
		You gonna smoke his bones now, or
		however it is you do it?

	Lao smiles indulgently.  He wipes the blood from the blade on
	the jacket of his ex-lord.  Lao now bows to no one. 

	EXT. FIRE ESCAPE - ANOTHER ALLEY - NIGHT

	Eric, wearing the combat boots, climbs as the crow leads him.
	Up.  He jams his hand on a rusty wedge of metal.  Ouch.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

	Blood flows from the gash.  He vises his fist shut.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE

	Eye-to-eye with the crow.  Opens his hand.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

	The blood flows back into the wound, which closes itself, 
	leaving another scar.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	Vising the rail.  Speaks to the night.  Almost a mantra.

				ERIC
		"My kitten walks on velvet feet,
		and makes no sound at all.  And in
		the doorway nightly sits to watch
		the darkness fall.  I think
		he loves the lady night..."
			(to crow)
		Am I alive?  Am I dead?  Something
		else?  Something in between?

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	Inscrutable.  No answer here.

	RESUME ERIC

	Almost bemused.  Steadier.  A hint of friendliness.

				ERIC
		Thanks for sharing that.

	ETC. GIDEON`S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	As the T-Bird grumbles tp park curbside.  Menacing.

	INT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	A junkyard of loot and dusty discards.  Junkie thievings and
	other people's stereos.  Behind a wire-meshed security counter
	GIDEON reads a racing form, chain-smoking throughout the scene.  He
	is pear-shaped, stubbled, unkempt.  Food on his shirt.  JINGLE
	of doorbells.  Gideon lowers his paper to reveal Skank and
	T-Bird on approach.

				GIDEON
		Ahhh, jesus, the creatures of the 
		night, here they come.  Tweedledum
		and Tweedledummer.

	Skank riles

				SKANK
		Hey, blow me, fat boy!

	Just as quick, Gideon cocks and levels a Magnum at Skank.

				GIDEON
		Blow yourself, bigmouth.

				T-BIRD
			(interposing)
		Whoa, hey, whoa.
			(hands up)
		Business.

	He lifts a small carton onto the counter.

				GIDEON
		Whatcha got?

	NEW ANGLE - COUNTER

	Transaction time.  T-Bird passes items through the screen slot 
	and Gideon gives each one cursory, doubtful inspection.

				T-BIRD
		Coupla more rings... 24k.

				GIDEON
		18k.  Crap.

				T-BIRD
		...necklace... pearls...

				GIDEON
		Nineteen bucks at Sears.  Fake,

				T-BIRD
		Leather purse...

	He hands though the bag rested from the woman.

				GIDEON
		What's this -- a little, ah,
		bloodstain, right?
			(doesn't matter)
		Fifty bucks for the box, and I'm
		doin' you a --

				T-BIRD
		Yeah, I know, fatso.  Do us all a 
		favor.  Make Top Dollar smile.

				SKANK
		You wouldn't want Top Dollar not 
		to smile.

	Mention of Top Dollar clams Gideon efficiently up.  He hands
	over the cash to T-Bird with a grimace.

	EXT. ROOFTOP - ON ERIC - NIGHT

	Eric stares upward at the crow as it drops like a bomber from
	the night sky, flying past him, skimming the roof, leading him
	on.  Eric exhales, shrugs, feeling mocked by the bird.

				ERIC
		All right.

	And he takes off on a run.  Only to stumble and fall.  But the
	falls turns into a TUMBLING ROLL that lands Eric back on his feet
	still moving.  He looks back as if to ask: "Did I do that?" and
	runs out of the frame.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - PICKING UP ERIC ON THE RUN.

	as he squints towards the crow and does his best to keep up.
	TRACK WITH HIM to the edge of the roof, heavily misted in rain.

	He jumps a negligible gap to the next lower roof.  The next 
	roof-top is a one-story jump down.  Eric clears the jump with a
	WOOF of air.  Keeping his eyes on the flying crow; gaining
	strength.  His next leap is more like a broad-jump.  Athletic.

	FAST MOVING ANGLE - THE CROW

	keeping airborne, keeping ahead.

	MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

	Eyes confidently on the sky as he arches out into space...

	UP ANGLE FROM STREET - BUILDINGS

	As Eric is seen to jump across the gap at least three stories up
	where there is no connecting building.

	CLOSE ANGLE - TARGET BUILDING LEDGE

	as Eric smashes into it, just missing, hinging at the waist,
	grabbing for purchase, suddenly panicked, gravity pulling him 
	downward.

	ANGLE - AT ERIC FROM PHONE CABLE BRACKET

	Eric falls but manages to grab the bracket one-handed.  He hangs
	for another deadly moment, then slowly, to his own astonishment,
	executes a one-handed pull-up that will save his ass.
				ERIC
		Gotcha.

	He completes the pull-up, bringing his chin level with the 
	ledge.  As he reaches for it with his other hand the bracket
	rips from the wall and Eric plummets, with a howl of defeat.

	UP ANGLE FROM STREET - ERIC'S DOWNFALL

	It's a looooooong way down.

	ANGLE - ALLEYWAY

	as Eric lands and splits a trash can in two.  A beat as we wonder
	if any bones are left unpulped.  PUSH IN as Eric rolls from
	facedown to his back.

	TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S FACE

	as he completes the roll, gasping, amazed he's still in one 
	piece.

	ANGLE - TRASHCAN - ON THE CROW

	It flies easily down to inspect Eric as he slowly sits up,
	examining his hands.  Frustrated and pissed off.

				ERIC
		Thanks.

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	Not "your welcome", but other-worldly patience.  It waits.

	RESUME ERIC

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Where're we going next -- the
		sewer?

	EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT

	Still, dark silence until Eric lands from ABOVE FRAME, feline.
	The crow lands simultaneously b.g., perched near a roof access
	door with a shaded, dim-yellow bulb.

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	It just blinks at him. 

	INT. ABANDONED STAIRWELL - NIGHT

	as Eric yanks open the rusty rooftop door from the outside and
	sweeps down the steps in a swirl of night mist

	ANGLE - FOOT OF STAIRS

	Trash and detritus all around, clogging the arteries of the
	building, which is old, unoccupied, forsaken.  The crow lights
	on a scarred banister knob.  Eric's footsteps come down into frame.

	ANGLE ON LOFT DOOR - INCLUDE ERIC

	A year ago this door was sealed with police barricade tape...
	which now sags, faded.

	A sticker across the jam notifies potential trespassers that
	this is -- was -- a crime scene.  Eric slows, stops, his hand
	on the banister.

	ANGLE - THE CROW

	as is wafts ahead of Eric, arriving at the door first.

	ANGLE ON ERIC, THE DOOR, THE CROW

	Eric has had enough.

				ERIC
		Are we finished yet?

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND ON BANISTER
	sliding along, as he speaks, until it hits a cigarette burn.

	PUSH IN ON ERIC - TIGHT

	stiffening as he suffers his second --

	FLASH:  IMAGES and DIALOG are not linked.  A rapidfire MONTAGE set
	in the loft, a year earlier (it is decorated for Halloween).
	The broken door.  The stairwell is filled with cops and cop 
	noise; lab guys bustle.  Albrecht is there, making notes as a
	DETECTIVE steps over to him.

				ALBRECHT
		Victim's name is Shelly Webster.
		The guy who got tossed is, uh ...--
			(checks his notebook)

	Albrecht grinds out his smoke on the banister.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC ON THE STAIRS.

	He sits down hard, hurting from the flash.  His eyes seek the 
	crow.  He completes Albrecht's line:

				ERIC
		"Draven, Eric."

	EXT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	LOW DOLLY of Elly's little combat boots moving toward the
	entryway of the pit.  MUSIC gradually UP LOUDER O.s. as she
	nears.

	ANGLE - ELLY IN DOORWAY

	Luridly-lit.  A grown-up's place.  A burly BOUNCER appraises
	her, his tone jokey.  He knows Elly.

				BOUNCER
		Hey!  You got any ID?

				ELLY
		Very funny.  Ha.  Ha.  Oh my,
		sides.

	The Bouncer jerks a thumb.  Go on in. 

	INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	A grungy sawdust-floored shot-and-beer joint packed tight
	with urban BURNOUTS rushing to drink their lives away.  Hammering
	MUSIC and rude whorehouse lighting.  Each predator straining to
	be badder than the next.

	TRACK THROUGH this maze at Elly's eye level until we reach 
	DARLA, waitressing her heart out, the drug mileage on her 
	obvious.

				ELLY
		Mom --?

				DARLA
		I told you you're not supposed
		to come in here.

				ELLY
			(a quick lie)
		I lost my key.

	Disgustedly -- goddamn kids -- Darla fishes up a key and slaps
	it into Elly's hand.

				FUNBOY (O.S.)
		Hey, Darla -- before we die of old
		age, how about it --?

				DARLA
			(to Elly)
		Out.  Now.  I gotta work.

	RACK PAST Darla and MOVE IN CLOSE on a corner table -- where sit
	Funboy, Skank, T-Bird and a black, vested muscle gypsy, TIN-TIN. 

	INT. LOFT - NIGHT

	As Eric shoves the door open from the outside.  The lock, popped
	from the frame, spins on the wooden floor.  The barrier tape
	whisps and dust roils.  Dark, chilly, damp.  A rat's nest of
	disuse.

	PULL BACK THROUGH THE BROKEN PICTURE WINDOW

	as Eric enters.  Glass blown out.  Shards poking.  Jagged.

	NEW ANGLE - AS ERIC WALKS IN

	He scans the loft.  Sees reflecting golden eyes near the floor.

	ERIC'S POV - FLOOR NEAR WINDOW

	A white, long-haired cat walks into a pool of night light.

	ANGLE - ERIC AND THE CAT

	He kneels.  Extends his hand.  The cat nears; likes Eric.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND.

	as the cat makes contact.  Sudden white jolt - a FLASH.

	FLASH:  we HEAR Eric strumming his Strat o.s.  We see what he
	saw:  Shelly, holding the cat.

							FLASH ENDS.

	UP ANGLE - ERIC

	Wincing.  Recovering from the flash.  He purposefully gathers
	the cat into his arms and braces for more, harder, stronger...

	FLASH:  A MAN and a WOMAN make love on a big bed amidst a hundred
	points of candlelight.  Shelly and Eric, once upon a time.

							FLASH ENDS.

	REVERSE ANGLE FROM BEDROOM DOOR - ON ERIC

	as the cat, dropped, hits the floor and scrambles out of the way.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	vising his head, teary-eyed, his nose bleeding.

				ERIC
		No!  Don't look!  No! No!

	He whirls unexpectedly and punches his fist completely through
	the masonry wall.
	FLASH:  Eric and Shelly in a mock waltz.  He spins her and they
	collapse on the bed.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	slowly pulling his arm out of the wall.

				ERIC
			(whispering)
		Stop it.

	His eyes roll up and he slumps the length of the door frame like
	a drowning man.

	ANGLE - GABRIEL

	watching Eric.  He hits with an o.s. THUD.

	INT. THE PIT - ON FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

	As a gloved hand sets up four bullets next to four shots.

				FUNBOY (O.S.)
		Let's have some fun.

	Funboy pops the bullet, like a contact capsule and washes it down.
	T-Bird turns to Tin-Tin, the new guy.

				T-BIRD	You first.

				TIN-TIN
		You're outta your fuckin' mind.

	Into it, almost jazzed, Tin-Tin downs his bullet and shot, and
	T-Bird does likewise.  Points to Skank.

				T-BIRD
		No.  I'm not the lunatic.  He is.

	Skank riles, pulls a huge Auto Mag and sticks it in T-Bird's
	face, cocking.

				SKANK
		Fuck you, T-Bird.

	Just as lightning fast, T-Bird has his own gun out and jammed
	right under Skank's jawbone.  He makes a kissy face.

				T-BIRD
		I love you too, you madman.

	They all crack up laughing like ax murderers.  Skank drinks,
	Tin-Tin spot checks the satchell from Top Dollar's.  Darla
	delivers more shots and funboy feels her ass.

				FUNBOY
		Hey, pussycat.

	INT. LOFT - DOWN ANGLE (CROW POV) - ERIC ON FLOOR

	He's awake.  Pushes himself up.

	REVERSE ANGLE - THE CROW

	Is perched in a dead light fixture, monitoring Eric.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON FLOOR

	He's awake.  Pushes himself up.  Realizes he is in the center of a 
	faint chalk outline on the hardwood floor.  He reaches to touch
	the dark stain of old blood.

	FLASH:  Shelly spills into frame, mouth bloodied.  T-Bird
	instantly on top of her, rough.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - WITH ERIC

	as he abandons the outline and staggers to the window... where
	he cuts open his hand on jags of glass.

	FLASH:  Eric held firm in the grasp of T-Bird and Funboy, one
	arm each.  Five bloody bullet holes in Eric's chest.

	The thugs 1-2-3 and hurl Eric backwards through the window,
	which shatters.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - ERIC AT THE WINDOW

	Reeling backward, same trajectory as in the Flash, but toward
	the floor, in SLO-MO.  Overloaded.  Blacking out.

	AS ERIC FALLS - INTERCUT MONTAGE

	A jumble of good/bad images from the loft:  Tin-Tin embedding a
	page of paper in the loft wall with a throwing knife...
	Shelly's face as she lights a candle... a POPPING champagne
	cork... the echoing CANNONADE of the shots that killed Eric...
	Skank backhanding Shelly... Shelly blowing bubbles from a
	clawfoot tub full of suds... Eric catching Funboy's first slug 
	high in the chest... NEW ANGLE of the glass in the window
	blowing out as T-Bird and Funboy through Eric through...

	ANGLE - ERIC'S REAL TIME FALL

	He plummets to BLACK OUT FRAME.  THUMP.  Out cold.

	INT. PIT - RESUMING FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

	Funboy contemplates his drink as the previous scene reverbs.

				FUNBOY
		More fun than a torture chamber.

	Tin-Tin's pocket pager goes BEEP and startles them all.  Skank
	nearly shoots it, jumpy.  Tin-Tin pulls back on a black leather 
	trenchcoat after clicking off the pager.

				TIN-TIN
		I hate this goddamn thing...

	ANGLE - DARLA watching them from a distance as Tin exits.

	INT. LOFT - FLOOR LEVEL - NIGHT

	An enormous cockroach trundles past, large in FRAME.  RACK to
	show Eric lying on floor b.g. as his eyes pop open.  A flurry of
	dark motion as the crow flies past frame.

	ANGLE -- THE CROW -- Having snatched the bug in it's beak.  Eats
	it.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	rising from the floor.  Careful.  Stealthy.  Watches his fireplace.

				ERIC
		We have company.

	ANGLE ON FIREPLACE

	Huge.  Marble.  COld.  Eric's paper mache masks of Comedy and
	Tragedy still hang there.  The Skull Cowboy steps out of the
	dark and into the vague blue light.  Shadowy as ever.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Having fun yet?  No?
			(beat)
		I'll give you a hint.  Remember
		whatshername?

				ERIC
		Shelly?

				SKULL COWBOY
		Miss her?

				ERIC
		Yes.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Kill the men who killed you both,
		and the Day of the Dead will be
		your reunion.

	The Skull Cowboy prestidigitates a flat throwing knife(like Tin-
	Tin's).  Eric's gaze follow it closely.

				SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)
		You must use your eyes.

	He points to the crow.

	ANGLE - THE COMING KNIFE - ("CROWVISION")

	Weirdly distorted, a shared vision between Eric and the crow.

	TIGHT ON ERIC

	As he DUCKS out of the path of the knife he sees through the
	bird's eyes.  He rolls.

	ON THE CROW

	It hops out of the way as the knife embeds in the wall.  Eric's
	ROLL finishes him up nearby.

				ERIC
		Goddammit.

	He grabs for the knife as if to use it on the Skull Cowboy, but
	the knife causes an unexpected painful FLASH.

	FLASH:  Eric bouncing off the bedroom doorframe, Tin-Tin's knife
	stuck in his shoulder.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC

	vising his head with his hands, in pain.  Too much pain.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Get it?

				ERIC
		Leave me alone -- !

	He looks up, the Skull Cowboy is still there.

				SKULL COWBOY
			(contempt)
		Do something about it.
	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND THE SKULL COWBOY.

	A horrible beat between them.  The Eric runs full tilt across
	the room, bounding to the open window and then leaping.

	ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY

	as close to surprise as he gets.  Steps out to watch as --

	ANGLE ON WINDOW - ERIC

	FLIES feet first out into space.

	CLOSE-UP - BRICKWORK ABOVE WINDOWFRAME

	Eric's fingers smash into grip the tiny mortared gaps!

	EXT. LOFT BUILDING - UP ANGLE FROM STREET - NIGHT

	High above, Eric's feet shoot out the window, knocking loose
	stray shards that fall toward frame.  He swings into an upside-
	down pose, impossibly holding himself rigid against the
	building's side, face down. by his quarter-inch finger grip.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	Every muscle rigid, quivering with tension.  Hold.  Then he
	relaxes, and swings back inside.

	INT. LOFT - AT WINDOW, PICKING UP ERIC - NIGHT

	He arches, flips, to land on his feet.  The Skull Cowboy is
	gone.  No knife either.  The crow watches.  O.S. "meow".

	ANGLE - WITH ERIC AS HE TURNS TO SEE THE CAT

				ERIC
		I guess I'm not ready to leave...
		just yet.

	He picks up the cat -- wary of flashes, which don't come this
	time -- and returns to the window.  Feeling safer.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		The last time we saw each other,
		I didn't do so well.
			(holds cat up)
		Huh, Gabriel?

	He moves to the fireplace.  With his free hand, lifts the
	Tragedy mask off its hook.  Puzzles it, fact-to-mask.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I bet you need some cat food...
		right?

	EXT. STREET - NIGHT -ESTABLISHING:

	Eric walking, the Tragedy mask hanging from his hip.  An
	occasional PEDESTRIAN passes without comment, brutalized
	by the city.  Eric, more confident, smells the night's bouquet.

	EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT ("CROWVISION")

	Two men around a trashcan fire.  We should recognize Tin-Tin by 
	his black leather trench coat.  A wonderfully rude Rap tune, "Got
	a White WOman Tied Up In My Closet, Gonna Jab Her With A Stick,"
	RAZZLES b.g.

	EXT. STREET - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

	As Eric reacts to what the crow has just seen.  Slows.  Stops.
	And directs his attention toward the mouth of the alley.

	EXT. ALLEY - TIGHT ON TIN-TIN - NIGHT

	He pulls the nickel plated revolver from the satchel.  FOLLOW as
	he hands it across to RATSO, who removes the suitcase-sized boom 
	box (the source of the music) from his shoulder to accept.
	Ratso is a feral skull-head; street trash.

				TIN-TIN
		Three hundred and your a 
		gunslinger.

	HIGH ANGLE - TIN-TIN and RATSO

	As the crow is still watching, yet perched.  A brief
	shove-and-standoff.  The gun deal has gone bad.

				RATSO
		Please, TIn-Tin, you know I'm good
		for the money, man, I promise,
		Leslie put me up to it, please,
		man, don't --
			(choking scream)

	Tin-Tin has just up-rammed a throwing knife into Ratso.

				TIN-TIN
		Ratty -- shut the fuck up.

	Tin-Tin lifts Ratso on the knife, gutting him.  Ratso goes
	slack, deader'n hell.  Tin-Tin reaches around to click OFF 
	the boom box... then let's Ratso`s corpse fall.

				ERIC (O.S.)
		Another satisfied customer?

	TIGHT ANGLE - TIN-TIN

	galvanized by the surprise voice.  He automatically draw a
	fresh knife from the bandolero of knives across his chest inside
	the coat.  Can't yet track the source of the voice.

				TIN-TIN
		Who the hell is that?
			(beat, venomous)
		Come on out man, I won't hurt
		you.

	ANGLE - ERIC IN ALLEY

	He steps out from behind another flaming trashcan.  Wearing a 
	long black scarf and the Tragedy mask.

				ERIC
		Hello, Tin-Tin.

	ANGLE ON TIN-TIN - AS HE RISES (FROM RATSO)

	trying to process what he sees.  And cover.  And buy time.

				TIN-TIN
		Little early from trick-or-treat,
		homie.
			(re: Ratso)
		This dick trying to bushwack me.

				ERIC
		Murderer.

	Tin-Tin blows out a breath.  No bluff.  Time to kill again.

				TIN-TIN
		Guess you got that goddamn right.

	He shrugs.  The shrug becomes the launch of a knife.

	TIGHT SHOT - MOVING - ERIC

	His black-gloved hand slaps away the incoming knife and inch from
	his nose.  It CLATTERS.  Eric continues striding toward Tin-TIn.

				ERIC
		Try harder.  Try again.

	SHIFTING ANGLE - ERIC NEARS TIN-TIN

	as Tin-TIn throws another knife.  Eric closing in.  He claps
	hand together, immobilizing the next knife.  Opens his hands,
	almost an "oops" gesture.  Keeps on coming.

	ANGLE - ERIC AND TIN-TIN

	As they meet.  Tin-Tin attempts a roundhouse.  Eric blocks it
	and smashes Tin-Tin into the alley wall.

				ERIC
		A year ago.  Halloween.  A man
		and a woman.  In a loft.  You
		helped to murder them.

				TIN-TIN
		Last Halloween, eh?  Yeah...
			(beat)
		Yeah, I remember.  I fucked her
		too, I think.

				ERIC
		You cut her.  You raped her.
			(rage)
		You watched!

				TIN-TIN
		Hey, I got my rocks off, so
		fuck you in the ass, man.
		
	They're face-to-face now, sweaty and tense.  Eric peels off
	the Tragedy mask.

				ERIC
		I want you to tell me a story, Tin-Tin.

				TIN-TIN
		I don't know you...

	But, as Eric bears down on Tin-TIn, Tin begins to recognize him.
	Fear.  Sweat.

	For the first time, Tin-Tin starts to loose control.

				TIN-TIN (CONT'D)
		Holy shit... you're dead, man...

	EXTREME CLOSE-UP - ERIC

				ERIC
		Victims.  Aren't we all.

	INT. LOFT - NIGHT

	TIGHT ANGLE - TABLETOP

	as Eric's hands place Ratso's boom box on the table and click on 
	suitable weird b.g. MUSIC.

	ANGLE - FLOOR LEVEL

	Eric's boots pass frame.  An open can of cat food CLANKS down
	big in f.g.  as Eric walks b.g. obviously wearing Tin-Tin's 
	trenchcoat.  Gabriel noses into to frame to eat from the can.

	INT. LOFT, BEDROOM - NIGHT (LATER)

	Shelly's vanity.  Dusty, disused.  The mirror spiderwebbed with
	cracks but still hanging precariously in its frame.  Eric is 
	seated, his image crazily split into many.  He pulls on a long-
	sleeved, tight-knit, black shirt.

	WIDEN ANGLE to reveal the loft now lit with dozens of candle
	stubs.  Placed all around.  Ceremonial and weird.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

				ERIC
		Halloween is coming.  The Day of the Dead...

	In the mirror, multi Eric's.  He touches the glass, tightening up 
	as he realizes he's in for another --

	FLASH:  Shelly, sleeping on her divan, a year ago, wakes as Eric
	(O.S.) says "Boo".  She cracks an eye open.

				SHELLY
		Your scary quotient needs work.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AT VANITY

	Considering old cosmetics.  Everything he touches will hurt him.
	But he's ready to eat this pain.  He grabs a lipstick.

	FLASH:  Shelly at the vanity in happier times

				SHELLY
		I think red's my color, don't you?

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC

	wincing.  He drops the lipstick on the floor.  Grabs a
	hairbrush.

	FLASH:  Eric smashes into the street after his death-fall,
	trailing broken glass.

							FLASH ENDS.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC AT VANITY

	Later.  He's wearing white pancake makeup on his cheeks.  Shaky.

	FLASH:  Eric sucks up Funboy's gunshots in the chest.  1-2-3-4.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY

	his face a crazy warpaint maze of white streaks, not blended
	yet.  He looks at his own reflection.  In one cracked,
	triangular facet of the mirror is not a multiple of his face,
	but the Skull Cowboy.  Just one.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Glad to see you're finally with
		the program.

				ERIC
		Bugger off to the graveyard, skull-
		face, I'm busy.

				SKULL COWBOY
		You work for the dead.  Forget
		that, and you can forget it all.

	The Cowboy tips his hat and isn't there.  Eric sees the crow
	perched on the edge of the mirror now.

				ERIC
		Forget this.

	He smears the streaks until his face is uniformly grave-wave
	white.

	ANGLE - GABRIEL THE CAT

	coming in to sniff around the clutter at the foot of the vanity.
	Eric looks down towards him... and toward the lipstick he dropped.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND

	as it glides down to pick up the lipstick.  CONTACT, and --

	FLASH:  Eric, smashed on the street, T-Bird's car b.g., upside down
	in Eric's POV as he rolls over and blood courses from both
	corners of his mouth,  a definite foreshadow of the "Crow" face.

							FLASH ENDS.
	RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY - TIGHT

				ERIC
		She always red red was her color.

	EXTREME CLOSE - THE MIRROR

	We see only a reflected corner of Eric's mouth as he duplicates
	the blood trail in red lipstick, making one one half of a crow
	harlequin smile.

	EXT. LOFT BUILDING - LATER - NIGHT

	A MEDIUM SHOT as lightning strikes; a storm brews.

	EXT. LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S BOOTS

	crossing the floor.  Tin-Tin's knife slotted to the bucklework.

	CLOSE-UP - VANITY

	Eric's hands discard a hairbrush there.  He moves off.

	CLOSE-UP - GABRIEL

	looking up o.s., watching his master stalk around with purpose.
	Thunder rumbles long o.s.

	ANGLE - AT ERIC IN WINDOW FROM OUTSIDE

	The storm boils.  Eric framed in broken window.

	CLOSER ANGLE - ERIC IN WINDOW

	Eric all in black,  Firm-wrapped.  Tight-wired.  The trenchcoat
	flutters, cloak-like.  His shadowy face framed by the upturned
	collar, his hair punkish and spiky.

	SIDE ANGLE - ERIC

	as he moves forward in the light.  The crow lights on his shoulder.

				ERIC
		All right, bad guys...

	FRONT VIEW - ERIC

	Full crow regalia.  Face makeup streamlined.  Eric's eyes flash.

				ERIC
			(in drawn out yell)
		Here I commme -- !

	PULL BACK swiftly, vertiginously, as Eric swan dives from the
	window, his voice a howl.

	UP ANGLE FROM STREET - ERIC'S FALL

	Coat, wing-like.  MATCH his dive yell with o.s. crow SCREECH.
	SLOW MOTION as Eric fills the frame and we --

							DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. ALLEY - WHERE TIN-TIN GOT IT - NIGHT

	Cop lights bounce, competing with the trash fires.  Albrecht and
	several other UNIFORMS assess the double-death scene.  A
	detective, TORRES tries to appear in charge.

				TORRES
		Couldn't have happened to a nicer 
		couple.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND TORRES OVER DEAD TIN-TIN

	Tin-Tin frozen in deathshock, all of his knives sticking out of 
	him.  Dead Ratso, b.g., where he fell.

				ALBRECHT
		Sure it coulda.  Funboy's not
		here, neither is T-Bird -- none
		of Top Dollar's number ones.

				TORRES
		You know, you sure got a hard-on for
		a guy that's guilty of zip on
		paper.  Top Dollar runs Showtime;
		what's the matter, don't you like
		adult entertainment?

				ALBRECHT
		This sack of shit is called Tin-
		Tin.

				TORRES
		Don't any of your little pals have
		real, grown up names?

				ALBRECHT
		He was a runner for Top Dollar.
		Just muscle.

				TORRES
		Was.
				ALBRECHT
			(sigh)
		This isn't Top Dollar's style
		anyway.  This was somebody else.
		Somebody new.

	Albrecht lights a fresh smoke.  Torres waves the smoke away.

				TORRES
		And you're gonna tell me who.

				ALBRECHT
		Who ever made that.

	Albrecht points.  CAMERA FOLLOWS to wall behind Tin-Tin.  A crow
	silhouette has been daubed in blood there, now dry.

				TORRES
		What in the hell... do you
		call that?

				ALBRECHT
		I call it blood, Detective.  If
		you want, you can call it graffiti.

	INT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP of Gideon's thick fingers shuffling grimy currency.
	Some scratchy 1920's TUNE plays throughout b.g., like a broadcast
	from another time and place.

	TIGHTER ANGLE - GIDEON

	looking up at a metallic SOUND, o.s.  Irritated.

				GIDEON
		Piss off, we're closed.

	As the outside security gate rattles, Gideon draws his magnum
	and approaches the front door.

				GIDEON
		Fucking creatures of the night;
		they never goddamn learn.

	Sudden surprise as he sees the silhouette of the gate SCREE back
	against the frosted glass of the front door.

				GIDEON (CONT'D)
		HEY!!

	And he hustles to close up the distance between himself and the
	door, gun up.  Before he can touch the door, the crowbar comes
	rocketing through the glass, pegging Gideon in the forehead and 
	knocking him flat on his ass.  He loses the pistol.
	Eric walks through the door, causing the fractured glass to
	disintegrate around him.  He disclaims, thespian.

				ERIC
		"Suddenly I heard a tapping, as of
		someone gently rapping, rapping at
		my chamber door."
			(pause)
		You heard me rapping, right?

	LOW ANGLE - GIDEON ON THE FLOOR

	reacting to Eric's weird appearance and looking for his gun.

				GIDEON
		Oh, bullshit!  You're trespassing
		asshole, you're breakin'
		and enterin' and you just bought me a
		fucking door!

	During Gideon's rant, Eric brushes glass cubes from his
	shoulders, nonplussed.  Now he flings Gideon across the room.

	Gideon crashes into the counter cage.  As Eric advances on him:

				ERIC
		I'm looking for something in an
		engagement ring.  Gold.

	As Eric comes up behind him, Gideon reaches through the open
	cage door and pulls a big combat knife from beneath the counter.

				GIDEON
		You're looking for a coroner,shit-
		for-brains!

	And he tries to nail Eric with the knife.

	NEW ANGLE - BEHIND GIDEON - AS GIDEON SWINGS

	No Eric behind him.  TILT to reveal Eric hanging off the cage
	above Gideon.  Eric slams the cage door against Gideon's head.
	Drops down like a spider and collects the knife.

				ERIC
		I repeat: a gold engagement ring.
		It was pawned here, a year ago, by
		another gentleman whose name, I
		believe was... "T-Bird"?

	IN TIGHT ON ERIC AND GIDEON

	Eric twists Gideon's sail-like shirt and Gideon turns bright red.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Cute nickname, don't you think?

				GIDEON
			(gasping)
		I ain't got no fuckin' ring.

				ERIC
		Wrong answer.

	Eric nails Gideon's hand to the counter top.  Gideon howls!

				GIDEON
		All's I got is in a box!  Behind
		the counter!

	Eric jumps through the cage door.  Gideon's eyes bug as he sees 
	his own pierced hand, immobilized.

	ANGLE - ON ERIC BEHIND THE COUNTER

	scans the shelves.  Rows of boxed ammo.  Kerosene tins.  A shotgun.  
	Knives and assorted knuckle duster curios.  And the ring box.

	CLOSE-UP - THE RING BOX IN ERIC'S HAND.

	Dozens of gold rings.  Eric's fingers sift through them.

	TIGHTER ON ERIC

	He brings each ring to his face.  INTERCUT with Gideon's feeble
	struggles and invective, o.s.

				ERIC
		No... no... no... no...

	He tosses each rejected ring over his shoulder.  Until:

	CLOSE-UP - THE RING IN ERIC'S HAND

	Obliterated by a stab of brilliant white light --

	FLASH:  Shelly's face.  A perfect vision...

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUMING ERIC

	He closes his fist tightly around the ring.  A moment of
	decision.  Then he draws the shotgun from beneath the counter.
	Uses the butt to knock the knife free of Gideon's hand.  It goes
	spinning across the countertop.  Eric shucks the shotgun and
	rams it into Gideon's nose as the big man slumps to the floor.

				ERIC
		Tin-Tin confided in me, before he
		ran out of breath.  You have one
		chance to live.
				GIDEON
		No fucking way.  He'll kill me.

				ERIC
		Who would waste time killing you...
		besides me?

	Gideon sweats, pants, contemplates the hole in his hand.

				GIDEON
			(cowed)
		Top Dollar.

				ERIC
		Another jolly nickname?

				GIDEON
		You want those assholes, you want 
		Top Dollar.

				ERIC
		T-Bird?

				GIDEON
		Like the car.  He hangs out with
		Skank. that little ass-hair, and
		they hang at the Pit -- hell,
		Funboy lives there.  Ask Top
		Dollar.

				ERIC
		A whole club of pirates, with
		pirate names...

	Eric seems to go berserk, SMASHING and PUNCTURING cans of
	flammables and powder while Gideon flinches, nursing his holed
	hand.  Blows just miss Gideon's head.  Soon he's cowering.

	LOW ANGLE - ERIC

	Looking down at Gideon in revulsion.

				ERIC
		You feed off the living.

	SMASH!  as another tin ceases to exist next to Gideon.  Then
	Eric is gone, past him without further word, ignoring him
	entirely.  As he exits, shotgun shouldered, he pauses to admire
	a white Fender Strat hanging among the pawnables.  He reaches 
	for it.

	ON GIDEON

	As he summons some last minute budget bravery.

				GIDEON
		You walk outta here Top Dollar
		will erase your ass!  Top Dollar
		owns the fucking street here and
		you can't dick with me, you son of
		a bitch! 

	RESUME ERIC - FRAMED IN DOORWAY

	The guitar now bowslung across his back, the shotgun levelled at
	Gideon's position.

				ERIC
		One chance to live.  Take it.

	MOVE IN TIGHT ON GIDEON

	as he realizes what Eric means.  Hauls ass and bangs through the
	rear door with a bleat of terror.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC IN DOOR  

	as he cuts loose with the shotgun.

	EXT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	as seen from across the street.  Eric silhouetted, unmoving as
	the whole store front blows hellaciously out around him, raining
	glass and debris.  Stirring his hair.  Eric is the black eye of
	the fireball.

	LOW ANGLE - FRONT OF PAWN SHOP - EMPHASIZE ERIC

	lit by flames and residual explosions.  He hurls the shotgun
	into the inferno.  Casually brushes flaming/smoking detritus
	from his own clothes.

				ALBRECHT (O.S.)
		Don't move! I said don't move.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC

	as he turns slowly, to see Albrecht, out of reach, gun drawn.
	Eric's attitude lightens; Albrecht is not the threat here.

				ERIC
		I thought the police always said
		"freeze:.

	Albrecht divides his attention, jumpy, between the odd sight of
	Eric (guitar on his back), and the raging instant inferno of
	Gideon's.

				ALBRECHT
		I'm the police and I say don't
		move, Snow White.  You're under
		arrest; I don't care what else is 
		wrong with you!  You move and
		you're dead.

	Eric has begun to pace towards Albrecht.  Palms up.  A gesture of
	submission.  Albrecht's battle calm begins to waiver.

				ERIC
		And I say I'm dead... and I move.

				ALBRECHT
		No further.  I'm serious.

	Eric bows, bringing his forehead in line with the gun's muzzle.

				ERIC
		Then shoot, if you will.

	TIGHT ANGLE - ALBRECHT

	He gives it up.  Can't shoot.  This is too weird for him.

				ALBRECHT
		Are you nuts, walking into a gun?

	NEW ANGLE - LESS THREATENING - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

				ERIC
		You must listen carefully:  the 
		Fire Department will be here soon.
		There is an injured man in the 
		alley who needs assistance.
			(meaningfully)
		As Shelly Webster once needed your 
		assistance, and as you are shortly 
		going to need my assistance.

	Albrecht gestures casually, almost comically, with his pointed
	gun.  B.g., the crow lands on a fire escape to monitor them.

				ALBRECHT
		You wanna run that back for me one
		time?

	SIRENS near, o.s.  Eric listens to them, to the night.

				ERIC
		Listen:  Top Dollar.  He "owns the
		street here."  He will "erase
		my ass."

				ALBRECHT
		You don't say.

				ERIC
		I know Top Dollar has turned your 
		streets into his hell.

				ALBRECHT
		Fucking A, my friend.

				ERIC
		The others are called Skank, T-
		Bird.  Street names.  Funboy.
			(beat)
		Watch me, office Albrecht.

	Eric lifts a chunk of glass from the sidewalk.  Slow and easy.
	Albrecht doesn't completely trust him.  Up comes the gun.

				ALBRECHT
		Watch it...

	Eric slices open his palm.  Blood flows.  To his fingertips.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

	as Eric quickly daubs a crow silhouette in blood on the wall...
	then exhibits the gashed hand to Albrecht.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND

	as the blood retreats and the wound seals itself up.

	TIGHT ON ALBRECHT

	and the silhouette.  Mouth hangs.

				ALBRECHT
		You're the one who did Tin-Tin...

	PULL BACK FAST to reveal Eric is gone from the frame.  Albrecht does
	a quick 180.  No Eric.  Flashbars from incoming units begin
	to bounce red and blue off his face.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Great.  Good night.  Guy shows up
		looking like a mime from hell.
			(beat)
		Least he didn't do that "walking
		against the wind" shit;  I hate
		that.

	EXT. SHOWTIME - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH.

	A night-owl pornucopia.  T-Bird enters beneath a garish theater
	marquee.  The 2-bill:  RUMP ROMP with BUTTBUSTERS II.

	INT. SHOWTIME LOBBY - NIGHT

	T-Bird approaches the snack bar.  Wet, breathy mating NOISES
	from the auditorium throughout, o.s.  Looking supremely bored,
	the counterman, DICKEY BIRD, thumbs a porn tabloid.  So what.

				DICKEY BIRD
		T-Bird.  Thrill me.

				T-BIRD
		Business.

	T-bird heads left through s steal door that Dickie buzzes
	open for him.

	INT.  SHOWTIME AUDITORIUM (BACKSTAGE) - NIGHT

	T-Bird walks past dust-covered boxy black speakers as we glimpse
	Lance and Angelique making history in reverse, on the back of the 
	movie screen: oratoria as good as porn films can make it.

				PORN QUEEN (O.S.)
		I don't know how to describe how
		I feel, Lance -- so restless --

				PORN KING (O.S.)
		You're my Moon Queen, Angelique.

				PORN QUEEN (o.S.)
		Oooh -- I want you're rocket right
		now in my Sea of Tranquility -- 
		Lance --

	ANGLE - CATWALK STAIRS

	As T-Bird approaches, the movie sounds dwindle o.s.  He ascends
	the skinny metal stairway two steps at a time.

	ANGLE - STEEL FACED DOOR AT TOP OF STAIRS.

	As T-Bird nears it, a viewplate SNAPS open to asses him.  By
	the time he reaches the top, the door unbolts to admit him.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	As T-Bird enters.  The room is organized around a long meeting
	table and flavored with a taste of everything illegal:  drug
	paraphernalia, weapons.

	Across the table are a couple of Sentries like the one that
	admits T-Bird to the room.  TRACK PAST them to a lank-haired
	silhouette as he turns away from a windowshade, backlit by
	Showtime's exterior neon.

	This is TOP DOLLAR.  Who looks like a Johnny Winter acid 
	casualty but is deadly cold, definitely the man in charge.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Wild fucking night.  I hear our
		pal Tin-Tin got himself very dead.

				T-BIRD
		And Gideon's just burned all the
		down to the foundation.

	Top's eyebrows go up.  Oh really?

				T-BIRD (CONT'D) 
		I didn't have nothin to do with
		that.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Bet that pisses you off, right?

				T-BIRD
		Top, what the fuck is going on
		tonight?

				TOP DOLLAR
		Stay normal, T.  Cops'll be all
		hotwired and aggressive.  No
		combat moves until I check this
		out.

	EXT. STREET - NIGHT - (~CROWVISION") HIGH ANGLE

	Taking in the street, the Pit, and a little girl seated on an
	abandoned car.

	ANGLE - STREET LEVEL - ON ELLY.

	Seated on the looted wheelless car, playing with a small doll.

	CLOSER ANGLE - ON ELLY

	She doesn't notice someone is watching her yet.

	TIGHT ON DOLL, THEN ELLY

	She looks up o.s. at Eric, who is still out of the frame.

				ELLY
		What are you supposed to be?  A clown?

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	He smiles for what seems to be the first time.  Warm, even past
	his crow makeup.

				ERIC
		Sometimes.

	He glances back and logs the location of the Pit for later, not
	in a big hurry just now.  Turns back to Elly.

	WIDE ANGLE - ERIC AND ELLY

				ELLY
		You look like a rock star without a
		job.

				ERIC
		I dabble.  May I?

	He indicates the car hood, a "seat" next to Elly from which he
	may observe the Pit.

				ELLY
		If you're not some kinda child 
		molester.

	Eric looks behind himself.  Who, me?  Genuinely amused.  He 
	shakes his head no and sits down next to Elly. 

	INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

	The music POUNDS and smoke is everywhere, like incense.
	INTERCUTS of the clientele, retro, robotic, clove cigarettes and
	rubber clothing; fetish casual wear.

	ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

	right in the center of the noise, looking downscale and dirty
	in this milieu.

	ANGLE - ANOTHER CUSTOMER

	Passing Top, appraising him, finding him as boring as life
	itself.  Undertaker chic, she stares at Top.

				TOP DOLLAR
		I thought Halloween was tomorrow
		night.

	An Oriental bodyguard passes him in f.g., motioning to follow.

	INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

	Lao watches club activity on his flybank of TVs.  When Top
	Dollar shows up at the office door two Sentries try to bar his 
	passage.  He shoves through.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Get outta my way, you mooks.

	Lao's demeanor indicates that they should not kill Top.

				LAO
		An unexpected pleasure.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Bad news.  Alot of action on the
		streets tonight, and nobody
		bothered to clear it with me.  Tin-
		Tin got himself whacked.

				LAO
		Who got himself what?

				TOP DOLLAR
		One of mine.  And it wasn't a 
		standard hit.

				LAO
		I had heard something like this.
			(beat)
		Describe it for me.  The "hit".

				TOP DOLLAR
		I was wondering if you could tell
		me anything... about a wildcat
		operative.

				LAO
		I know of no one.
			(beat)
		But even if there is, I am sure it
		is nothing outside your capacity 
		to deal with?

				TOP DOLLAR
		Anybody violates my turf -- our 
		turf -- I'll rip out there heart 
		and show it to 'em.

				LAO
		To be sure.  Now tell how your 
		friend died.

	INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

	ANNABELLA, a comfortable large, spider-in-the-web deskworker,
	sits typing at a terminal.  Miked headphone in one ear, police
	scanner chatter o.s.  She blows and pops a pink bubble of gum.

				ALBRECHT (O.S.)
		Annie?

	ANGLE - ANNABELLA AND ALBRECHT

	Albrecht enters frame from across her countertop.

				ANNABELLA
		Whatever it is, the answer's no,
		Eddie.  I'm too busy tonight.

				ALBRECHT
		Annie, I need a file.

	There is a desperate edge to Albrecht's voice.

				ANNABELLA
		Speak up.
			(beat; her guard up)
		Clear it with the Captain if you
		need a file.

				ALBRECHT
		This is special, darlin'.  Please?

	Annabella eyes Albrecht doubtfully.  Fatalistic sigh.

				ANNABELLA
		Just don't tell me you "owe me
		one."  What file?

				ALBRECHT
		Double homicide.  A year ago.
		Las Halloween.

	EXT. STREET NEAR THE PIT - ERIC AND ELLY - NIGHT

	Still hanging by the car, a bit more familiar with each other
	now.  A low-slung mirror-windowed LIMOUSINE hisses past them and
	curbs across the street from the Pit.

				ELLY
		My mom works over there.  I'm
		waiting for her, but she's
		probably with him, right now.

				ERIC
		Who?
				
				ELLY
		Mister Funboy.

				ERIC
		Mister Funboy lives there?

	TWO SHOT - ELLY AND ERIC - (PIT B.G.)

				ELLY
		He has a room, upstairs.  I don't
		like him very much.

	Elly is not happy about this.  B.G. we see Grange get out of the 
	car, heading to the Pit, and notice in passing a guy with the
	white face talking to the little girl down on the block.

				ELLY (CONT'D)
		Can you play that thing or do you
		just carry it around everywhere?

	Elly indicates the guitar strapped to Eric' back.

				ERIC
		I can pick out a tune now 
		and again.

				ELLY
		Can you play "Teddy Bears' Picnic?"
			(re: doll)
		It used to be her favorite.

				ERIC
		Does she have a name?

				ELLY
		No name.  You sure ask a lot of
		questions.

	Elly HANDS the doll to Eric and he experiences a wholly 
	unexpected flash.

	FLASH:  Elly and SHelly sitting as SHelly's vanity, goofing with
	makeup, test-driving lipstick, the doll visible on the vanity.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC - AS THE DOLL DROPS FROM HIS HAND

	Pain is trying to fight it's way out of Eric in surges. 

				ELLY (OS)
			(smart alec)
		Hel-lo?  Earth to anybody...?

	Eric snaps out of it.  Elly retrieves the doll.

				ELLY (CONT'D)
		Do you feel okay.

				ERIC
		No.

				ELLY
		You gotta go now, I bet.

				ERIC
		I have to go.

	Half-zomboid, half-determined, he exits.

	INT. PIT - NIGHT - WITH GRANGE

	As he circulates to the bar, unimpressed.  To the bouncer:

				GRANGE
		Top Dollar?

				BOUNCE
		Never heard of him.

				GRANGE
		Funboy?

				BOUNCER
		Oh, prob'ly upstairs bangin'
		Darla.  Pay for your own beer and
		they'll prob'ly be down before you 
		can drink it.

	INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - OFFICE - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP of an 8x10 of the loft slaughter in Albrecht's hands.
	Subject: a document pinned to the wall with a knife.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT DESK.

	flipping through the file. Smoking.

	ANGLE - THE 8X10 IN ALBRECHT'S HAND

	Subject: Eric, dead in the street in front of the loft 
	building.  The blood on his face reminiscent of his crow face.

	As Albrecht's hand moves the photo we can see in the file
	several band shots of Eric as a member of Diabolique... 
	including the shot on Lao's wall gallery of past performers at
	Club Trash.

	A DOUGHUT on a paper plate suddenly touches down in the middle
	of all this research, startling Albrecht.

	ANGLE - ANNABELLA BEHIND HIM

				ANNABELLA
		Don't thank me.  Your ass is
		already in enough trouble for this shit.

				ALBRECHT
		I knew that.

	Albrecht holds a typewritten page closer to the the light.

	CLOSE-UP DOCUMENT, torn by the knife hole made by Tin-Tin.

	It reads:  We, the Undersigned tenants of 1929 Calderone Court
	Apartments...

				ALBRECHT
		Another nice white girl with a
		cause.  Like a big KICK ME sign.

	Albrecht takes up and 8x10 of Eric's face.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Shelly Webster.  And her nice 
		white boyfriend, Eric Draven.

	With a felt-tip pen he superimposes the crow smile, like the make-
	up, like the blood.

				ANNABELLA
		Your last little wild goose chase
		got you busted back to the Beat 
		Patrol, just like in a bad
		detective story, Eddie. Are we
		doing the wildgoose thing again?

	UNDER THIS Albrecht sketches in Eric's spiky Crow hairdo.

				ALBRECHT
		Could be.

				ANNABELLA
		You gonna wind up working at a school
		crosswalk.   that doughnut's 
		chocolate you, know.

	PUSH IN on the doctored photo.  It's Eric.  It's the Crow.

	PUSH IN on ALbrecht.

				ALBRECHT
		Well, hello there...chocolate,

				ANNABELLA
		Don't thank me.

				ALBRECHT
		Thanks, babe.

	INT. THE PIT (REAR) - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

	Climbing.  The crow perched on his shoulder.  Not in a hurry.

				ERIC
		It's a Raymond Chandler evening
		And the pavements are all wet, And
		I'm lurking in the shadows, for it 
		hasn't happened ...

	TIGHT CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	Impish.  Clown killer.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		... yet.

	INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	Grange at a table.  SMoking and waiting.  No beer.  His back
	protected, he is stationed near the fire stair door and has a
	good overview of the room.

	INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP of a base pipe being lit and hit hard.

	EXT. THE PIT (REAR) - FIRE ESCAPE - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

	Eric's gloved hand slides sinuously up rusted railing.

	INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

	A hypodermic needle rises into frame.  A nicotined fingernail
	flicks bubbles in the syringe.  FOLLOW needle down and BROADEN
	ANGLE: Funboy taps up a vein in Darla's arm and shoots her up.
	Both are naked in a shabby bed.  Bare lightbulb above.

				DARLA
		Ooh, baby -- gimme all of it.

	CLOSE-UP - THE NEEDLE

	As the plunger depresses.

	ANGLE - ON THE WINDOW

	As the crow quite unexpectedly arrives and perches on the sill,
	scaring the shit out of our two dopey friends.  Funboy pulls a
	giant auto pistol; mock aims, calms down, doesn't fire.

				DARLA
		It's a big fucking bird...

	She falls back against her pillow, eyes dreamily defocusing.
	Funboy giggles.  Relaxes the gun, which half-disappears into the 
	sheets at his side.

				FUNBOY
		It's a squab.  Here bird, Here,
		birdie...

	NEW ANGLE - DARLA AND FUNBOY

	Except that Eric now stands near their bed, across from the 
	bird's position, the guitar bowslung.

				ERIC
		Here Funboy.

	Contained panic as Funboy and Darla both startle.  The needle 
	flies and lands at Eric's feet.  Empty.  Funboy struggles to
	maintain against his high.

				FUNBOY
		Oh wow, oh wow, don't fucking do
		that, man.  I nearly had a fucking
		heart attack.

				DARLA
		Fun -- look at that guy...

				FUNBOY
		It's just the dope, don't worry

				DARLA
		Fun, he's not going away; he's 
		scaring the piss outta me!

				FUNBOY
		Not me.

	Funboy draws the gun from underneath the sheers.  Suddenly he seems
	totally focused.

				FUNBOY (CONT'D)
		Time for you to take your bird and 
		leave, freako.

	Eric rips open his shirtfront to reveal a circlet of bullet
	punctures.  This gives Funboy pause.
				ERIC
		Take your shot funboy.  You got 
		me, dead bang.

	Funboy tilts the gun off target.  Grins as Eric flat handedly
	past his chest, indicating where to shoot.

				FUNBOY
		You are seriously fucked up, man.
		Just look at yourself.

	In a blur, he sighs, and shoots Eric through the heart.

				FUNBOY (CONT'D)
		BANG!  He shoots, he scores!

	Then his expression drags a little bit.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	Looking down and daubing his hand in the bullet wound on his chest.

				ERIC
		Bull's eye.  Good shot.

	ANGLE - DARLA

	who starts scrambling to get out.  Grabbing clothes on the floor
	around herself. she runs right into Eric's outstretched hands.

				ERIC
		Stay.

	Eric twists her arm.

	CLOSE-UP - DARLA'S FOREARM.

	where we may clearly see the needle tracks.  

	UP ANGLE - ERIC 

				ERIC
		Morphine is bad for you.

	He holds her arm captive.  Tight, and we PUSH IN CLOSER to see
	the dope evacuating from the punctures, a reverse of Eric's,
	Blood trail.  The dope drips from Darla's arm to the floor.
	Darla's eyes roll up into the unconscious.  She slumps.

	ANGLE - ON FUNBOY - GAWPING

				FUNBOY
		How the hell did you do that?
		
				ERIC
		Magic.

	Funboy regards Eric's battlescars and guitar.

				FUNBOY
		Either die or do a solo.

	Eric looks briefly to his chest wound, wincing.  He can't seem
	to make it tie off fast enough.  He turns his attention back to
	Funboy.  But his strength is mysteriously ebbing.

				ERIC
		Neither.

				FUNBOY
		Yeah, I got a more fun idea myself.

	Funboy lashes out and broadsides Eric across the temple with the
	gun.  Eric falls, rolls back to a stance, but Funboy is right on
	top of him, howling like a lunatic and pistol-whipping Eric
	relentlessly.

				FUNBOY
		I hate trespassers!
			(whack!)
		I hate prowlers!
			(whack!)
		I hate peeping toms!
			(whack!)
		And right now I hate you!

	ANGLE - WALL NEAR BATHROOM

	as Eric, caught off-guard by Funboy's hyper high and weakened by
	his wound, comes slamming into the wall, losing his footing.
	Here comes Funboy, and we TILT UP from Eric's position as he 
	looms, cocking the pistol, which now has Eric's blood on it.

				FUNBOY
		Ahh, the hell with it, I still got
		five shots left.

	In a blur, Eric grabs Funboy`s gun hand.  Twists to the 
	crunching of bones.  Funboy's skewed-around gun hand blows a
	hole in his own thigh.  Funboy fall back across the bed.

				FUNBOY
		Owwwaaaa -- fuck me!  Look what
		you did to my sheets, you lame
		piece'a shit!  AAAAaa!  Goddd!

				ERIC
		Does it hurt?

				FUNBOY
		Does it hurt?!  You dead-ass,
		clown-faced fuck, of course it
		fucking hurts!  What the shit are
		you gonna do about this?!

	Eric sits on the bed next to Funboy; inspects the ampule of
	morphine on the nightstand, the needle of the syringe already 
	inserted.

				ERIC
		I have some pain killer right here.

	And he fills the syringe all the way.

	ANGLE ON FUNBOY

	as he begins to see the light.  He can't get away.  Growing
	terror.

				FUNBOY
		No, wait, no WAIT, that's too
		much, man, that's like overkill,
		nobody can take that much, you're
		wasting it -- !

				ERIC
		Your pain ends now.

	And Eric rams the needle into Funboy's heart, driving home
	the full dose.  Funboy begins to convulse.

	Eric falls back on the bed, his force spent.  Darla COMES TO in
	the corner, shock-traumatized.  On O.S. COUGH, and Eric opens
	his eyes.

	The Skull Cowboy, standing in the room, tips his hat.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Howdy
			(beat)
		You look a mess.  Like an ole
		cooter dog.

	TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S FACE

	streaked with -- mostly -- his own blood.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - THE SKULL COWBOY AND ERIC

				SKULL COWBOY
		Getting a little ambitious and
		extracurricular, aren't we?

				ERIC
		Go away.

				SKULL COWBOY
		You need to learn to mind your own
		business or you'll never get where
		you think you're going.

				ERIC
		Shut up.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Maybe I was wrong about you.

	The Skull Cowboy seems saddened or disappointed.  All we get is
	a little shake of his skull-head.

	Darla makes a SOUND and Eric turns toward her.  She's really
	confused.  She's looking to Eric for some kind of answer.

				ERIC
		Your daughter is out there, on the
		street, waiting for you.

	She's stunned, utterly speechless.  All she can do is look in
	Eric's eyes, try to ponder the phantoms there.

				ERIC
		Go.  Now.

	Darla shoves helter-skelter past Eric and out the door without 
	a glance back at Funboy.

	Eric, recovering, follows slowly, staring at the open door,
	stooping to lift the guitar dropped during the fight with 
	Funboy.  The Skull Cowboy has vanished.  PUSH IN.  Grimly, Eric
	takes a syringe and begins to draw blood from the late Funboy.

	INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	As a hastily dressed Darla BANGS out through the fire stair door
	behind Grange and FLEES the Pit.

				BOUNCER
		Hey, g'night, Darla.
			(to Grange)
		That there is Darla.

				GRANGE
		Funboy?

	Bartender indicates UP with his thumb.  Grange moves to the fire
	stairs door.

	INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

	Grange has seen the door ajar and now ENTERS gun-first.  Freezes
	when he sees:

	GRANGE POV - FUNBOY

	Half-sheeted, bloody, a hypo hanging out of his heart.

	RESUME GRANGE

	Eyes darting, drawn to --

	GRANGE'S POV - THE WALL NEAR FUNBOY

	A crow silhouette spray-painted with a syringe of Funboy's
	blood.  A thin outline, drippy.

	RESUME GRANGE

	whirling with his gun to bring it to bear on --

	ANGLE - GRANGE SEES THE WINDOW

	The crow is no longer in the room.  Eric is perched on the sill,
	guitar and all, looking right at Grange as if waiting from him.
	He winks, holds a finger to his lips -- sshh --and jumps out
	into the night.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - GRANGE

	He almost fires, but doesn't.  We see instead the priceless
	expression on his face as we --

							CUT TO:

	INT. PRECINCT FOYER - NIGHT

	Albrecht lights another smoke, quitting for the night.  Waves to
	the late-working Annabella en route.

	EXT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

	Albrecht hasn't gone three steps before Eric appears behind him,
	cat silent, matching pace.

	NB:  Eric has got a new black rock-n-roll shirt on... and a
	shell casing from Funboy's gun tied in his hair.

				ERIC
		Freeze.

	Albrecht startles; drops his file.  Nearly draws his gun.

				ALBRECHT
		Jeezus!  Don't ever do that, man!

	Albrecht pants, hysterical but calming down.  Eric waits.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		I told you cops don't say
		"freeze".

	He retrieves Eric's doctored photo from the spill of papers.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		You, my friend, are dead.  I saw
		your body.  You got buried.

				ERIC
		I saw it, too.

	Albrecht gathers up the file.  Eric stands there.  We realize he
	is hesitant about touching the file.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Walk with me.

	As Albrecht comes up with the file as they walk.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT ON THE STREET

				ALBRECHT
		You died, man.  I can't believe it
		but here you are.  Last year,
		you and your girlfriend --

				ERIC
		I need you to tell me what you
		remember.  What happened to us?

				ALBRECHT
		You went out the window.  She was
		beaten and raped.  She died in the 
		hospital.

	They stop.  Eric didn't know this.  Fixes Albrecht with a look.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Hey, you asked, man.
			(beat)
		She held on for thirty hours in 
		intensive care.  Hemorrhage,
		trauma.  He body just finally
		gave it up.
			(beat; regret)
		I saw it and couldn't do jack for 
		her.

	Eric has grown increasingly distraught over Albrecht's lines.
	Now he turns to Albrecht and, holding Albrecht's temples with
	his fingers, puts his thumbs over Albrecht's eyes.

	TIGHT ON ERIC - ALBRECHT AGAINST WALL

	We see Eric react to a brutal Flash... but we don't see the 
	Flash.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

	And Eric tears from Albrecht; staggers back, now holding his own
	head.  His crow face slacked in realized horror.

				ALBRECHT
		You okay, man?  I mean, what just
		happened.

				ERIC
		The venom of bad memories.  You
		were there; you saw her.  I saw
		you seeing her.

	Understandable nervous, Albrecht lights up a cigarette.

				ALBRECHT
		You gotta understand -- I was 
		hoping she'd talk, give me a lead,
		a clue, something to work with.
		But she only said one thing to me 
		before she died.

	Eric lowers his head, penitent.

				ERIC
		My name.

				ALBRECHT
			(fizzles)
		I'm sorry as hell, man.

				ERIC
		Thirty hours.  A day of life, plus
		change...

	TIGHT TWO-SHOT - ALBRECHT AND ERIC

	Eric plucks the cigarette from Albrecht's lips, taking a single
	contemplative puff from it.

				ERIC
		Halloween is coming, soon.  You
		will have Top Dollar if you watch
		for me at the Showtime, tomorrow night.

				ALBRECHT
		I should be trying to stop you.

	Eric nods, keeping his eyes on the cigarette.

				ERIC
		Thank you.  For giving a damn.

				ALBRECHT
		My pleasure.
				ERIC
		Don't smoke these.

	As a bus grumbles past on the street, Eric pitches the butt and 
	simultaneously ducks out of frame.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT TURNS

	to see a blank building wall.  Fire escape.  Darkness.  No Eric.
	He does a full 360 degree turn.  Eric is gone again.

				ALBRECHT
		Damn, I wish he wouldn't do that.

	MOVING ANGLE - FROM BUS ROOF

	Coat flapping, Eric is standing on the bus roof as the bus moves
	away from Albrecht's position.

	INT. LAO NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

	Lao has the partially disassembled rat skeleton in front of him, 
	as well as a mortar and pestle with some bits of crushed bone, and
	is smoking powdered rat bone in a pipe and Grange reports to
	him.

				GRANGE
		The son of a bitch winked at me.
		The he jumped.  Three stories.

	Lao seems strangely unaffected by the bizarre nature of Grange's
	tale.

				LAO
		Did you see an animal of any kind?
		Did you see a bird?

				GRANGE
			(puzzled)
		No.  I saw a guitar.
			(beat; irritated)
		This isn't some rock-n-roller
		you forgot to pay, is it?
			(beat)
		There was a drawing on the wall 
		that looked like a bird.  In 
		blood.

	Lao's expression is one of sublime content.

				LAO
		Good.

				Grange
		It could've been a chicken...

	EXT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT - ("CROWVISION")

	A LONG SHOT of the T-Bird parked across the street from the
	store as two figures -- T-Bird and Skank -- approach on the
	store side.

				SKANK
		I wish to hell I had torched
		Gideon's, that fat fuck.

				T-BIRD
		I wish to hell I knew who it was
		that made Tin-Tin into a voodoo
		doll last night.

	ANGLE - CLOSER ON T-BIRD AND SKANK - STREET LEVEL

	They stop walking.  Look at each other and sanctimoniously cross 
	themselves.  Tin-Tin's big R.I.P. moment.  T-Bird indicates the
	liquor store.

				T-BIRD
		We need some smokes and some road
		beers.

				SKANK
		Got it.

	Skank hustles toward the store.  T-Bird crosses to the car.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD - THROUGH CAR WINDOWS

	WIDEN ANGLE to include the car as he nears it.  Behind him, two
	12-year-old KIDS, AXEL and CHOPPER, enter the store after Skank,
	one wearing a long duster.

	INT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT

	as the KIDS enter and split between the counter and magazine
	rack.  East Indian CLERK.  Two boys fight video game wars in the
	corner.  Skank browses, grabbing odds and ends.

	EXT. STREET / INT. CAR - LOWER ANGLE - NIGHT

	as T-Bird climbs in, digs the last cigarette from his pack, 
	snaps his Zippo and in the sudden orange light, sees:

	INSERT - REARVIEW MIRROR

	Eric's purloined Strat in the back sear reflecting the light.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD

	He tries to spin and draw his gun but Eric is upon him, nestling
	one of Tin-Tin's throwing knives right inside T-Bird's ear.
		
				T-BIRD
		What the fuck are you supposed to
		be, man?!

	INSERTS:  Eric liberates T-Bird's automatic from the shoulder 
	holster; Eric's hand closes T-Bird's door for him.

				ERIC
		I'm your passenger.  You drive.
		And stop talking.

	TIGHT ANGLE - T-BIRD'S HANDS

	on ignition key and gearshift, making ready.  As ordered.

	INT. LIQUOR STORE - ON SKANK AT COUNTER - NIGHT

	He looks outside and sees Eric as the car fires up, pipes and
	glasspacks grumbling.  Skank moves, BRISTLING.

				SKANK
		What's all this happy horseshit?

	And the car peels out maniacally!  Skank tries to pursue -- but
	the two KIDS draw weapons and freeze everyone in the store.

				AXEL
		Alright, alright, alright --
		everybody be cool and stay exactly
		where you are.

	Chopper hustles up to the counter and relieves Skank of a 
	gigantic Auto Mag.

				CHOPPER
		Whooooa, cowboy!  Cool gun.

	Off Skank's look of total outfoxed disgust.--

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING FAST - NIGHT

	Vertiginous windshield POV of onrushing street, highspeed.

				ERIC (O.S.)
		Faster, T-Bird.  Faster.  You're
		a hell of a wheelman; you know you
		can drive faster.

	ANGLE - ERIC AND T-BIRD

	Eric now holds T-Bird's own gun on him.  Eyes locked on T-Bird.
	T-Bird's jump between Eric's nightmare visage and the roadway.

				T-BIRD
		You call it, blood -- you got the
		gun. You just tell me where you want
		to go.

	Clearly T-Bird would relish bisecting Eric with a meat cleaver 
	as he says this.  He's nervous and needs to hold the road.

				ERIC
		That's good.  We're going 
		someplace you've never been
		before.

	EXT. STREET - HIGH ANGLE ON T-BIRD - NIGHT

	as the car burns up the obstacle course of pavement, kicking  
	wake of litter.  PEDESTRIANS scurry to clear the way.

	INT. POLICE CRUISER - NIGHT

	Parked in an alley, facing the street.  Two cops work on large
	styro cups of steaming coffee.  MJ (driver) and SPEEG.

				MJ
		Smells like rain.

				SPEEG
		Smells like a septic tank.  You
		got that cream stuff?

				MJ
		In the bag.

	Speeg rummages inside the takeout bag.

				SPEEG   
		I hate this cream stuff.  They
		can't even call it cream, legally.

	They snap to as the T-Bird blazes past, doing ninety.

				MJ
		What in the crap?

	MJ floors the pedal, drenching Speeg in coffee on takeoff.

				SPEEG
		Ow! Owowoowowoowo, goddammit!

	EXT. STREET - ON ALLEY - NIGHT

	as the cruiser roars out to give chase.

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELLING FAST - NIGHT

	Eric lends the chase car a backward look.

				ERIC
		You caught one.  Drive faster.

				T-BIRD
		Man, you gonna get us killed dead
		and I don't even know what you
		want!

	Eric cocks T_Bird's pistol and levels it at his face.

				ERIC
		I want you to stop talking.  And 
		drive.  Drive faster.

	Eric rifles the glove box, tossing items out the window: clips
	for the gun.  Sunglasses.  A giant dildo (brief eyebrows-up to
	T-Bird).  Then: a roll of (previously established) gaffer's
	tape.  What Eric needs.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD AND REARVIEW MIRROR

	as he sees a second cop car join the high speed pursuit, 

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		You're very popular.  Thought
		you could handle this thing.

	T-Bird macho calcifies.  He's going to win.

				T-BIRD
		To hell with you.

				ERIC
			(wry)
		Naturally.

	INSERT - SPEEDOMETER

	Climbing swiftly toward the 100 mark.


	EXT. CITY STREETS - VARIOUS ANGLES - THE CHASE - NIGHT

	A 3-way pursuit until the T-Bird reaches the outskirts of the
	city.

	EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET - NIGHT

	All quiet... until the T-Bird ZOOMS past frame.  The lead cop
	tries to duplicate the T-Bird's corner-cut and starts spinning.
	It clips a light pole.  Rebounds into the path of MJ's unit.

	INT. POLICE CRUISER - ON SPEEG AND MJ - TRAVELING - NIGHT

	as MJ stands on the brakes.  Collision imminent.  They howl.

	EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET - NIGHT

	as MJ's unit broadsides the first cop car.

	EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - NIGHT

	The T-bird careens through dockside silence, alone, then
	fishtails, SCREECHING, to a lung-compressing halt.

	INT. T-BIRD - ON ERIC AND T-BIRD - NIGHT

	T-bird respirating like a jackhammer.  Eric holds stoic.

				T-BIRD
		So what -- you gonna rape me now?

				ERIC
		Time for your reward, T.  Payback
		with interest earned.

	Eric rips a long strip of tape from the roll.

	EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - NIGHT

	A HIGH ANGLE of the car as Eric opens the trunk.

	ERIC'S POV - The Trunk.

	loaded with plastique, canisters, timers, arson paraphernalia.

	INT. T-BIRD - FAVOR T-BIRD - NIGHT

	SLOW TILT starting with T-Bird's foot, firmly taped to the
	pedal.  Mummified into his seat.  Hands taped to the wheel.
	Throat taped hard against the headrest.

	The car is now in gear, idling.

	ANGLE - ON ERIC FROM WINDOW

	He drops an incendiary right into T-Bird's lap.  T-Bird squirms.
	No go.  Eric reaches in with a bungie cord.

				ERIC
		A little restrictive?  Good.
			(chilling)
		You held her down and raped her.
		You were the first.  She burned
		while you were inside of her.
			(re: bomb)
		What's the lag on this?  About
		twenty seconds, would you say?

	T-bird thrashes, but he's immobilized.  Can't even budge the
	wheel.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I've comrades in hell, T-bird.
		Give them my best.

	Eric activates the timer.  Yanks up hard on the bungie cord.

	INSERT: T-BIRD FOOTWELL

	The bungie cord pulls T-Bird's foot all the way down on the
	pedal.

	ANGLE - ON CAR, FROM DOCKSIDE

	Eric steps back, plucks the guitar out as the car starts to move.  The
	car roars for the edge of the dock, about a distance of a
	football field.  Eric examines T-bird's auto pistol and pops the
	clip.

	INTERCUTS:  as the car speeds for the water's edge, Eric thumbs
	bullets from the clip, one by one.

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING FAST - NIGHT

	T-bird's eyes bug in horror and he goes MMMMMMMMHHH!

	CLOSE-UP - THE CLIP IN ERIC'S HAND

	thumbing out the final bullet.

	EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

				ERIC
		All gone.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD REACHES DOCKSIDE

	Lifting off and blowing all to hell, a billion smithereens of
	phosphorescent firs pattering into the dark water.  It hits.
	Sinks.  Weird flare glow as the car quickly submerges.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	heaving the gun into the distant water.  Plosh.  He produces T-
	Bird's accelerator.  Squirts it into the ground.  He
	prestidigitates and T-Bird's Zippo appears in his hand.  He 
	flicks it and drops it into the flammable puddle.

	HIGH LONG SHOT - ERIC

	walking slowly out of the scene as the firepool coalesces into
	a burning crow shape. 

	INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAWN

	CLOSE-UP of a frying pan busy burning some pretty firebombed
	looking eggs.  Kind gross.

	ANGLE - DARLA AT THE STOVE.

	NOT THRILLED WITH HER OWN PROGRESS.

				DARLA
		I never was too good at this 
		domestic shit.

	ANGLE - ELLY AT LIVING ROOM WINDOW

	staring outside at nothing in particular.  Yet.

				ELLY
		Don't say "shit".
			(beat)
		That's okay.  Corn Flakes are
		okay.  Anything.

	She pauses as she hears a lilting, faraway GUITAR STRAIN.
	Across the street she can make out the figure of Eric on his 
	roof playing the guitar.

	EXT. ROOF OF LOFT BUILDING DAWN

	EXTREME CLOSE of a Pignose Amp.  More soft GUITAR strokes as
	CAMERA FOLLOWS a patchwork a taped-together, jerry-rigged
	cables to:

	ANGLE - ERIC ON ROOF -- shirtless, crosslegged, his Crow make-up
	streaked by the night's work.  His fingering is unsure and he 
	tries the tune again.

	INSERT - We she Shelly's engagement ring on a leather thong
	around Eric's neck.  Like an amulet.

	ANGLE - ERIC PLAYING

	He's got it right this time.  Strong, sure CHORDS.  Passionate.
	We can almost imagine him conjuring Shelly via musical sorcery.
	He holds a stroke, letting it ring.  Sun rises behind him.

				IRATE VOICE (O.S.)
		Hey, shut the fuck up!

	Eric's eyes, closed with the moment, dart left.  Funny.

	EXT. MAXI-DOGS - DAY

	Later.  Elly is seated on a stool..  Mickey gives her a chili
	dog.

				MICKEY
		Chili dog for breakfast... it's
		original.

				ELLY
		Mom tried to cook.

				MICKEY
		Oh.

				CUSTOMER (O.S.)
		Hey, Mickey, I need a special
		with everything.  No sawdust.

				MICKEY
			(to Elly)
		Everyone's a comedian.  Enjoy.

	Mickey EXITS FRAME.

				GRANGE (O.S.)
		You're Elly, right?  I know your
		mom.

	Elly turns.  Grange sits next to her.  Lao's mirrored-windowed car
	is parked across the street, b.g.

				ELLY
		A lot of people "know" my mom.

	Grange points o.s., indicating he wants coffee from Mickey.

				GRANGE
		I know your friend, too -- the one
		that looks like a rock star.

				ELLY
		I don't know you.

				GRANGE
			(easily)
		I'd like to get in touch with him.

	Elly sizes Grange up.

				ELLY
		You're not a cop, either.  What do
		you want him for?

				GRANGE
		I'm looking for a good guitar man.

				ELLY
		Right.

	Grange withdraws a $10 bill from his wallet and slides it across
	the countertop to Mickey.

				ELLY (CONT'D)
		You buying?
			(cuts him some slack)
		He kinda wanders around.  You'll
		see him if you pay attention.

				GRANGE
		I need to find him kind of soon,
		Elly.


	INT. LOFT - ON ERIC - DAY

	No shirt, the ring on the thong around his neck -- workout mode.

	He twirls and performs odd Crow moves of increasing complexity
	in the big open living room.  On purpose, he stretches hard
	against the bedroom doorframe.

	FLASH:  Shelly stands in the blue moonlight near the picture window
	wearing a rococo Victorian gown.  PUSH IN TIGHT as she is
	embraced by a nude Eric.  He undoes the last few remaining ties
	that hold the gown in place.  FOLLOW THE GOWN as it crumples
	down the length of Shelly's (also otherwise nude) body to the
	floor...

							FLASH ENDS.

	LOW ANGEL - FROM INSIDE THE BEDROOM - ON ERIC

	hanging there, inviting the pain the FLASHES bring.  Breathing
	as though he is pumping iron, pumping up.

	ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN BEDROOM

	embracing a ragged full-length dress that used to be Shelly's.

	FLASH: Eric and Shelly (wearing the same dress), exchange an
	extremely passionate and intimate KISS in the moonlight.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC

	as he drops the dress.  Absorbing the pain and memories.

	ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN LIVING ROOM

	executing a complex roll that winds him up at the windowsill.
	He grasps it with both hands.

	FLASH:  A series of CLOSE SHOTS of Eric and Shelly's HANDS, each
	moving along the other's body.  Curves and dips and contours.
	But Eric's gaze never leaves SHelly's eyes.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AT WINDOW

	His GAZE similarly FIXED.  Bringing his hands away and clapping
	them together, deep breath, fingertips pressed to his face, like
	Kung Fu prep.  When he opens his eyes, the crow is there before
	him on the sill.

				ERIC
		That's better.

	He wipes his torso down with a towel.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		It's almost time.

	He holds his hand in front of his face and he flexes it.  We can
	HEAR tendons CRACKLE like a harness.  Closes it into a powerful
	fist.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	TIGHT on Skank as he slams his fist down on the table.  He has
	a black eye and facial scuffs from his liquor store encounter.

				SKANK
		Top, I made the sumbitch!  Face
		all painted white like some kinda
		fuckin' kabuki homo!

	WIDE ANGLE to include all present:  Lao, Grange, Lao Guards #1 
	and #2, Top Dollar, and a Sentry.  Top dusts up a line and
	rinses his nostrils with brandy.

				LAO
		Sounds like our "Crow" is
		out-maneuvering you.

				TOP DOLLAR
		"Our" Crow...?

				LAO
		Come now.  You've seen the 
		graffiti -- all over the city in
		the few hors it has taken your
		men to drop like plague victims.
		What about your turf, Top?
			(mockingly)
		You don't seem to have ripped out
		anyone's heart yet.

				TOP DOLLAR
			(pissed off)
		The night is young.

				SKANK
			(hot)
		The found T-bird flash-fried to
		what was left of his fucking car!

	Top is angry too, but won't show it to Lao.  He rises and goes
	to the window.  Neon glow.  Top sees something outside, below,
	that really torques him off.

	EXT. STREET OUTSIDE SHOWTIME - NIGHT (TOP'S POV)

	A phantom GRAFFITI ARTIST is spray-painting a crow shape on the
	condemned building right across the street.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	Top whip-drawing an auto pistol and shooting below.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Hey, you little fuckweed!  That's
		against the law!

	His gun smoking.  Momentary empowerment.

				TOP DOLLAR (CONT'D)
		I don't give a shit what kinda
		bird this guy is.

	EXT. WINDOW - NIGHT

	As Top turns from the window,  PULL BACK to incorporate the
	chunky shadows where the lights don't fall.  Eric is there,
	perched on the narrow exterior ledge...but we don't know it
	until he opens his eyes, two dots of white in the blackness.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	LAO AT TABLE -- angered by this macho horseshit, annoyed at his
	time being frittered.

				LAO
		I am sitting over here.

	He SLAMS a palm on the table and the room goes silent.  Top
	looks sheepish.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Do you think this childish
		machismo impresses me?
			(regains composure)
		When I was a boy in Saigon I
		watched my country change one 
		block at a time,  one building at
		a time.  Whole lives erased.  A
		way of life, polluted.  Today, no 
		one forces me to move.  I use my
		powers to change your country, one
		block at a time,  one building at
		a time.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Nice speech.  What's it supposed
		to mean?

				LAO
		Your comprehension is not
		required.  Your cooperation and,
		indeed, your ability are the
		issues on the table.

	Top rallies to this.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Whatever you say, I can do.

	Skank looks around, nervous and jumpy, a contradiction to Top's
	guarantee.

				LAO
		That's reassuring.

	CLOSE-UP - TOP'S SHELL CASING IN ERIC'S HAND

	from the ledge.  Endstamp is for a .45 caliber.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON LEDGE

	He sniffs the cartridge.  We can see Funboy's cartridge in his
	hair.  He fists the shell casing tightly.

	ANGLE - DOWN-TABLE, AT SKANK

	Jittery, grabbing a clip for his own automatic.

				SKANK
		What was that -- !?

	It wasn't anything.  Skank loads, stands and jacks the action on
	his gun.  Lao looks questioningly to Top Dollar.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Too many poppers, Skank.  Relax.  Heel.

	ANGLE - WINDOW BEHIND TOP DOLLAR

	A black blur as Eric arches through, spilling Top.

	ANGLE - MEN SEATED AT TABLE

	Eric back flips the length of the table and kicks the gun from
	Skank's hand.  All react.  Weapons out.

	CLOSE-UP - SKANK'S GUN

	spinning mid-air to land in Eric's open hand!

	GENERAL ANGLE - BIG MOBY SHOOTOUT - (VARIOUS)

	Death cleans house.  Standing on the table, Eric fires rearward
	under his own arm to clip Lao Guard #1.  He pivots, shooting,
	and takes out Lao Guard #2 -- who slams backward into the steel
	door as it being opened by the Sentry outside.  Crash!  The
	door is shut again.

	ANGLE - GRANGE AND LAO

	Grange sprays the room with a Calico 950 Auto, shoving Lao
	beneath the table for cover.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	Bullets hit him and demolish everything behind him.  Skank hits
	the deck again.  Eric fires and Lao Guard #1 sucks three hits 
	across the chest, firing convulsively against the ceiling, blowing
	the lights.

	ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

	springing up from behind table.  But Eric is gone from the field
	of fire and one shot strikes Skank, rising at the far end.

	ANGLE - LAO AND GRANGE

	making for the door, Grange as shield.  Lao draws a pistol.  The door
	opens and Lao shoots a Sentry to clear him out of the way.

	ANGLE - TIGHTER ON LAO

	A last look back toward Eric and Grange hustle Lao out.

	Door SLAM o.s.  Top is out of ammo as Eric lands from above
	frame right in front of him and slaps the gun from his hand.

				TOP DOLLAR
			(awed but maintained)
		You want my attention, man you
		got it.

	ANGLE - SKANK UNDER TABLE

	Wounded but clawing toward Eric just the same.

				SKANK
		It's him, Top!  He dusted T-Bird!

	ANGLE - ERIC AND TOP DOLLAR, FACE-TO-FACE

				ERIC
		You have to be SKank.
			(to Top Dollar)
		One moment.

	As he speaks, WIDEN FRAME as he turns and grabs the incoming
	Skank by the hair.

				ERIC
		Thank of a snappy comeback for me
		on your way down.

	Without a beat he pitches Skank right out the window!  Skank howls
	all the way down.

	EXT. STREET - ON POLICE CAR - NIGHT

	Damaged from the wreck, limping home, piloted by our pals Speeg
	and MJ.  Skank smashes down into the roof, imploding the
	flashbar and windshield.  MJ drenches his lap in fresh coffee.

				MJ
		OwwwAAHHH son of a BITCH!

	ANGLE - SIDEWALK ACROSS THE STREET - ON ALBRECHT

	who watches with slow marvel from the shadows
				ALBRECHT
		Jesus Christ...

	He runs to assist the demolished cruiser.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - RESUMING - NIGHT

	Just Top, Eric, corpses, and lazily drifting gunsmoke.

				ERIC
		Top Dollar, you're the only one
		here still wasting good air...

				TOP DOLLAR
		Five large, in the drawer right 
		over there.  I never saw you.

				ERIC
		Do you know what you destroyed?

				TOP DOLLAR
		Take the dope, too.

	Eric backhands Top into the wall.  Gets in his face, seething.

				ERIC
		A year ago.  A very nice lady
		circulated a petition.  She died.
		Last Halloween.  Answer yes or no.

				TOP DOLLAR
		That's ancient history.

				ERIC
		It's yesterday!  Do you know what
		you destroyed?

	Top Dollar yells right back at Eric's anger.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Who gives a fuck!  I'm a
		businessman.  You gonna do me,
		then do me and shut you're face!

				ERIC
		You don't even remember...

				TOP DOLLAR
		I never forget anything, dickhead.
		That building was a sweep-and-
		clear; the bitch was a nuisance
		with her goddamned petition.  It
		got a little rowdy... end of
		story.

				ERIC
		Rowdy.  Let me fill in some gaps 
		for you.

	And he grabs Top's head the way he grabbed ALbrecht's earlier,
	slams Top into the wall.  Nose-to-nose.

	FLASH:  Shelly backing away from oncoming Funboy in the loft,
	trying to retreat, nowhere to run, her home invaded, scared.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

	Top is quivering, almost helpless in Eric's hypnotic grasp.
	Eric winces, hard, and --

	FLASH:  Shelly cut, bleeding, struggling against T-Bird.  Wild.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - RESUMING TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

	Viciously close, more intimate and lethal than anything.

				ERIC
		You're a detail man, Top -- you
		need to see more.

	This time Top tries to twist from Eric's grasp but it's no good.

	FLASH: Shelly, comatose in ICU, eyes fixed and staring, 
	hoses darting in and out, cold blue refrigerator light.

	Bloody, bruised and broken (from Albrecht;s memory)

							FLASH ENDS.

	CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR

	arching, stiffening in pain.

	CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

				ERIC
		All of her pain, Top.  Thirty
		hours.  All at once...

	Eric bears down on Top Dollar again.  Top screams.  Blood begins
	to leak from his eyes, nose, ears.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		...all for you.

	FLASH:  Rapidfire CLOSE-UPS.  A jagged compound fracture,
	jutting, Shelly's eye, blood-red sclera, purpled and sunken.

	Her scraped-raw hand clawing at air.  Icebox lighting.  A TIGHT
	SHOT of her monitor going flatline: eeeeeeeeeeeeee...

	TWO-SHOT - RESUMING ERIC AND TOP DOLLAR.

	as Top sags in Eric's grasp, terror fixing his wide-staring dead
	eyes.  Eric lets him drop like a laundry sack.

				ERIC
		I didn't think you could handle it
		either.

	O.S. BANG of impact, heavy against the steel door.  Eric turns.

	ANGLE - STEEL DOOR

	as it is battered down by a squad of police using a power-ram.
	All weapons snap up to bear on Eric.

				LEAD SWAT
		That's all she wrote, Bozo!  You
		stand down now, and that's an
		order!

	ANGLE - ERIC AS HE MOVES

	using his foot to shove the massive conference table at the 
	incoming SWATS while launching himself into the air, flipping
	toward the window and arching through cleanly as the cops open
	fire on command.  Bullets tear the room to pieces.

				LEAD SWAT
		The fire escape's covered.

	EXT. SHOWTIME - FRONT FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

	Picking up Eric on his dive through the window, bullets chasing
	him.  Immediate police fire from below sparks off the ironwork.
	Eric ducks slugs balletically and scampers to the roof.

	ANGLE - SHOWTIME ROOFTOP EDGE

	Eric somersaults over.  Bullets chip brick in his wake.

	STREET LEVEL - UP ANGLE TOWARD ROOF.

	Showtime girded police cars and MARKSMEN, Eric a distant
	shadow figure above.  Here comes a TEAM LEADER with a bullhorn.

				TEAM LEADER (FILTERED)
		On the roof!  Keep firing!  Keep
		firing!

	A fury of law enforcement ordnance cuts loose all around him.

	RESUMING ERIC ON SHOWTIME ROOF EDGE

	A forearm up against the fusillade.  Below him --

	ANGLE - PIT FRONT FIRE ESCAPE 

	Here come Lead SWAT and his Merry MEN.

	MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC - ADJACENT ROOFTOP

	Eric runs for it.  Half a story higher.  He hits the wall and
	skitters up, gripping tiny cracks in the brickwork.

	ANGLE - RESUMING MEN ON FRONT SHOWTIME FIRE ESCAPE.

	Lead SWAT hesitates -- because of what he sees.

				LEAD SWAT
		Holy shit, it's spiderman.

	He tries to pull a bead and fires too late.

				LEAD SWAT (CONT'D)
		What're you boy scouts staring at!
		Let's Go!  Let's go!  Let's go!

	MOVING ANGLE - PICKING UP ERIC ON NEXT ROOF

	He sprints to the far edge and dives to the next lower rooftop.
	As he lands he is nailed by a helicopter spotlight, boring in 
	from behind and above the row of buildings.

	MOVING ANGLE - THE STREET BELOW

	COPS below, COPS in the chopper, everyone rushing parallel to 
	Eric, trying to keep up.

	ERIC'S POV - THE STREET, THE HELICOPTER

	PAN QUICK to the next ledge.  COPS right behind him on the roof
	as well.

	WITH ERIC - AS HE RUNS TO THE EDGE.

	and finds a void waiting there.  No connecting building.

	ANOTHER MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

	staying ahead of the search light.  A fantastic series of artful
	moves that wind him up at the rear edge of the roof.

	ANGLE - SWAT MEN ON NEXT ROOF

	sighting Eric as the light picks him out.  Eric glances at 
	them... then jumps.

				CHOPPER PILOT (O.S./FILTERED)
		He's off the roof.  We can't see
		him.

	CLOSE-UP - LEAD SWAT

	pulling his weapon off target, because there is not target.  

				LEAD SWAT
		Dammit to hell!
			(beat; to men)
		Come on.

	ANGLE - ALLEY - STREET LEVEL

	Eric lands like a falling safe, scattering garbage.  But he's 
	okay, up and running.

	ANGLE - ERIC'S RUNNING POV - END OF ALLEY

	as his escape is cut off by a police car that screeches to a 
	stop, blocking the exit.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

	as he backpedals, scanning for an alternate escape.

				ALBRECHT
			(from car)
		Come on!

	CLOSER ANGLE  - POLICE CAR

	We can see Albrecht.  Eric dives inside and the car burns rubber.

	INT. ALBRECHT'S CAR - TRAVELLING - NIGHT

	Albrecht harried and frantic, but in control.

				ALBRECHT
		Keep your head down!

	He twists and turns the car, glancing rearward for pursuit.  

	Gradually he calms down.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		I figured you might need a ride 
		home.

	Eric looks up at him from his half-concealed crouch.

				ERIC
		It's done.
				ALBRECHT
		I figured as much.  Did you cap
		off Funboy.

				ERIC
		Funboy had to leave this mortal 
		coil.

				ALBRECHT
		Yeah, among others.
			(sees Eric's condition)
		Hey, man -- you're hit.

				ERIC
		It's only a flesh wound.

				ALBRECHT
		It's only fourteen or fifteen 
		flesh wounds.

	Eric sits up as the car gains distance.  Grabs the cigarette out 
	of ALbrecht's mouth.  Takes his single puff.

				ERIC
		You shouldn't smoke these.

	He pitches the smoke out the open car window.

				ALBRECHT
		Great.  Litterbug of the Living
		Dead.

	Eric turns back to Albrecht.

				ERIC
		I'm finished.

	Eric shoots him a doubtful look.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I mean, I've done what I came to
		do.  It shouldn't hurt this much.
		But it will pass...

				ALBRECHT
			(not buying it)
		Right.
			(beat)
		You sure I can't just take you to 
		the emergency ward?

	EXT. STREET - NIGHT - ON ALBRECHT'S CAR

	It hangs a turn and their escape is made.

				ERIC (O.S.)
		They couldn't do anything for me.

				ALBRECHT (O.S.)
		How 'bout the morgue?

				ERIC (O.S.)
		No.  I have one more thing to do.

	EXT. STREET - ANOTHER PART OF THE CITY - NIGHT

	Lonelier, less traffic, more deserted.

	ANGLE - ON ALBRECHT AND ERIC THROUGH WINDSHIELD - TRAVELLING

				ALBRECHT
		You're gonna kill somebody else.
			(beat; no response)
		We're gonna stop and get a shit-load
		of Band-Aids?

	Eric is obviously fighting to stay centered, stay conscious.
	His last fight has caused him a great deal of damage, taken a
	lot out of him.  He needs to recharge.

				ERIC
		I have to prepare for an 
		anniversary.  This coming night.

	HOLD on their two kinds of determination. as we

							DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. CITYSCAPE - DAY

	High blue sky.  It might even be pretty if it wasn't Detroit.

	INT. LAO'S CLUB OFFICE - DAY

	The TV flybank pulses with videotaped images of Club Trash's of
	various performers -- including Diabolique.  On several screens,
	one-by-one, various images of a guitar-playing Eric Draven
	FREEZE-FRAME as we PULL BACK to the desk.  Lao has the 8x10 from
	the corridor gallery.  He places it within eyeshot and resumes
	work on the desk BELOW FRAME;  we can't see it yet, among other
	scattered research and inconcubula.

	ANGLE - GRANGE

	Entering and crossing to the desk.  As he comes up to the desk,
	he DRAWS BACK.

				GRANGE
		What... the hell is that?

				LAO
			(calmly)
		This is a cobra, Mr. Grange.  Yes,
		it is real.

	NEW ANGLE - LAO AND GRANGE

	Revealing Lao with a sealed cage, holding a large, live cobra in
	his hands.  The killing blade is nearby.

				GRANGE
		That thing is poisonous.

				LAO
		Extremely so.
			(beat)
		You and I are the recipients of
		unwanted good fortune, in the form 
		of a man everyone is calling The Crow.

	Grange makes a face.  Can't keep his eyes off the cobra.

				GRANGE
		Give me a break.  That guy's a wacko...

				LAO
		I intend no slight to you, but I
		cannot find the English to
		adequately express just what he
		is.  I suppose Western mythology
		would describe him as a Fury.
		
				GRANGE
		Not a Plymouth Fury, I bet.

	Lao chuckles indulgently.

				LAO
		Do you know of spirit assassins?
		You do know the dead can rise?
		Properly motivated, of course.

				GRANGE
		Like some sort of zombie on a 
		revenge trip.

				LAO
		Mmm.  But tonight I can take what
		is his.

				GRANGE
		Only thing you'll get from that
		clown is a faster way to die.
				LAO
		To the contrary...

	ZZLIP!  Lao smoothly BEHEADS the snake with the Blade against
	the stone surface of the desk and discards the writhing body.
	He squeezes behind one of the eyes and a VENOM SAC protrudes
	like a dark pimento.

	LAO pulls it free of the milky, clinging tissue and EATS IT.
	Off Grange's stunned expression.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		...all the dying tonight will be 
		done by the former Eric Draven.

	Lao exhibits the blade to Grange as though it explains all.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Who is only invulnerable so long
		as he cares about the dead.  When
		he begins to care about the living,
		you'll find his heart can bleed...
		and I want it to bleed for me.

				GRANGE
		Kill a dead guy?

	Lao POPS the second venom sac; swallows it.  Pleased.

				LAO
		Truly kill him.  So I may crush
		his skull and smoke it.

	Lao SHRUGS.  Grange can handle it.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Let it suffice that I need him...
		and to get to him, we'll need his 
		little friend.

	Finally, an assignment Grange can comfortable understand. 

	INT. LOFT - DAY

	Eric, barechested, emotionally tapped, clean of makeup and blood
	but exhausted, his movements retarded and slack.  Staring
	fixedly into the fireplace,  where he burns everything he could
	find of his past:  the junk from the makeup table, the masques,
	photos of himself and Shelly.

	INT. LOFT - STAIRWELL - DAY

	Moving with Elly as she nears the open loft door.  She PEEKS
	cautiously inside.

	RESUME ERIC

	Without looking toward the door, he speaks.

				ELLY
		What's going on...?

				ERIC
		A remembrance.
			(beat)
		A closure.

	And Eric consigns to the fire the DRESS we saw earlier.

	Holds a photograph in a broken frame.  Cracked glass.  Subject:
	Eric and Shelly, goofing for the camera.

	He chucks it into the fire.  Draws a deep breath.

				ERIC
		Better now.  I feel good.  How are
		you, Elly, my friend?

	Elly is clearly uncomfortable, groping for an excuse just to see 
	Eric.  Eric is staring at her, intently.

				ERIC
		What is it?
				ELLY
		I knew.  I knew I knew you.  Even
		with the makeup and stuff you
		wore.
			(beat)
		You really loved her, didn't you?

	CLOSE-UP - FIREPLACE

	The photo burns and blackens in the grate.

				ERIC
		You brought flowers.  As long as 
		you don't forget her, Elly, she 
		lives.

				ELLY
			(upset)
		She's dead.  She's gone.  And now
		you're just gonna go away and
		never come back, too.  I hate this
		place; it isn't fair.

				ERIC
		Elly...

	He draws her close.  Wipes away an errant tear with his thumb.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Sometimes the people we care about
		are gone, for no reason.  Sometimes
		that's really tough.  I cry.  But if 
		the people we love are gone, we keep them --

	He taps Elly's temple, then his won.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		-- right here.  It's a big
		responsibility.  And that makes it 
		okay to mourn.
			(beat)
		I know that if you weren't here,
		I'd be very sad.

	Elly gives Eric a hug.

				ELLY
		You look funny without your white
		face on.  Like it's your day off
		or something.

	He quizzical expression amuses him.

				ERIC
		Somebody here wants to meet you. Gabriel?

	Gabriel the cat has wandered near the fireplace to join them.  
	Elly is immediately smitten.  Happy.
		
				ELLY
		I remember him!  Here, Gabriel...
		here kitty... Gabriel... Is he
		still yours?

				ERIC
		I think he's yours, now.

	The cat seems to like that idea.  Elly wraps him hugely up in
	her arms, talking to him: "How're you, Gabriel, whatcha doin'"

	ANOTHER ANGLE - TIGHTER ON ERIC

	While Elly is preoccupied with the cat, Eric gives up his last
	bit of Shelly to the fire - a portrait photo of her, small and 
	creased.  He puts it in the fire, watches it burn for a beat,
	then turns to Elly.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I have something else for you.

	BACK FOCUS as Eric lifts off his neck Shelly's ring for Elly's
	inspection.  The ring twirls large in f.g.

				ELLY
		Nobody ever gave me something like
		that before.  Ever.

	Eric places it around her neck.  Elly BEAMS.

				ERIC
		Shelly would've wanted you to have
		it.  This way, you'll think of her 
		every time you see it...

				ELLY
		And she'll be alive.  Up here.

	Elly TAPS her own temple with a smile, keeping one hand on the
	ring.

							CUT TO:

	EXT. STREET - DAY

	Blowing wind.  TRICK-OR-TREATERS wisp past.  Ghosts, witches,
	demons out for Halloween.

	ANGLE - CEMETERY FENCE

	walking home with Gabriel zipped up inside her coat is Elly.  A
	fire engine wails past in the opposite direction.

	ANGLE - ELLY ON BROWNSTONE STEPS

	Strictly downscale building.  Elly to Gabriel"

				ELLY
		You're gonna like it here.

	A car curbs across the street as she enters the building.

	ANGLE - PUSH IN ON CAR

	as the window cranks down to reveal Grange at the wheel.

	INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY

	Darla nervously smoking, doing her best to stay clean, but
	jittery.  Elly enters the shabby living room with Gabriel in her
	arms.

				DARLA
		I was wonderin' where you'd
		gotten to --
			(she sees Gabriel)
		Oh, Elly, honey, a cat.  Here?

				ELLY
		He was a present.  Besides, we're
		moving anyway.  You said.

				DARLA
		We'll discuss this later.
		Obviously.  You left the door open.

	DARLA points.  As Elly goes to close the door it opens.

	NEW ANGLE - FAVOR THE DOOR

	Grange enters accompanied by two Asian martial arts STRONGARMS
	(Lao Guards #3 & #4).  Grange looks around, bemused, his manner
	avuncular.

				GRANGE
		Hi, Elly.  Remember me?

	Elly's surprise is evident.  Darla is just plain pissed off.

				DARLA
		I don't remember you.  And I don't
		remember inviting...

				GRANGE
			(to his MEN)
		If she opens her face again, shoot
		her in the head.

	ANGLE - DARLA

	Mouth stalling in the ON position as Lao Guard #3 pulls a 
	gigantic gun, draws and cocks.

				ELLY
			(panicked)
		Mom -- !

	ANGLE - GUARD #4 AND ELLY

	as he scoops her up, captive.

	ANGLE - GRANGE AND GABRIEL

	He strolls the circuit of the room, stopping near the window.

				GRANGE
		You should listen to your mother.
		She said no cats.

	Grange pitches Gabriel right out the window.

				ELLY
		Gabriel!

	Grange pulls out a compact Polaroid camera.

				GRANGE
		Now that's the expression I want.

	ANGLE - ELLY AND GUARD #4

	As she struggle mightily, to no avail, as Grange moves in to
	snap his shot.

				GRANGE (CONT'D)
		Say cheese.

	He snaps.  On the SX-70 WHIRR and flash white-out, we --

	EXT. LOFT BUILDING ROOFTOP - SUNSET

	Dark clouds have gathered to highlight the sunset.  Eric plays
	the guitar - LOUD, the SHelly theme in a major key.  Where
	before it was wandering, uncertain, now it's bold and
	heartbreaking.  Definitive.  Pain replaced by strength and a
	sense of homecoming.

	As Eric gets to the end of it, the notes are flying out... At
	the climax, rips the guitar up over his head and brings it 
	down -- SMASH -- on the Pignose.  He's finished here.

	ROOF EDGE - FROM STREET

	as the broken guitar SAILS OUT over the building edge.

	INT. LOFT BUILDING STAIRWELL - DUSK

	As Eric comes down the stairs.  Notices the open door.

	INT. LOFT - DUSK

	He enters, cautiously, to find an envelope laying in the middle
	of the floor.  He opens it.

	INSERT - THE POLAROID OF ELLY

	with a note.

	UP ANGLE AT ERIC READING THE NOTE - FROM FLOOR

	The crow flies past behind him as his expression hardens.

	NEW ANGLE -  A MOMENT LATER - FAST AND HARD

	Eric brutally crisscrosses his arms with black vinyl tape.

	ANGLE - ERIC DRESSING

	Pulling on black night-fighting clothes, skintight.

	ANGLE - THE VANITY

	as Eric (seen in mirror) jabs his fingers into the white
	makeup and smears it on.

							SMASH CUT TO:

	EXT. STREET NEAR CEMETERY - NIGHT

	Eric marches along in plain view since everyone around him seems
	to be in costume.  The wind whips his coat.  KIDS bustle around
	him with trick-or-treat bags.  The crow perched on his shoulder.

	ERIC'S POV - CITY SKYLINE

	Somewhere, a few blocks over, a building is burning.

	ANGLE - ERIC WALKING

	A fire engine races past on the street.  He steps out in its
	wake and crosses over to --

	MEDIUM MOVING SHOT - THE CEMETERY

	waiting for him as he crosses to the fence.  Beyond the fence,
	in the distance, the church looms.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	He pauses.  A KID in a Creature from the Black Lagoon mask
	comes, passes Eric, then comes back for a touch.

				CREATURE KID
		Trick or treat!

	Eric smiles.  Not tonight.

	EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT

	Eric is standing over the grave of Shelly Webster, looking down.
	He holds for a moment then moves on.

	EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT

	Eric ascends toward giant oak doors, tres Gothique.  The crow
	flaps past, leading him.

	NEW ANGLE - TOP OF STEPS -- where waits the Skull Cowboy.  As
	Eric approaches, the Skull Cowboy interposes himself between
	Eric and the huge double doors.

	Eric glares up, defiant.  Moves up the steps.  The Skull Cowboy
	extends a skeletal hand.  STOP.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Stop screwing around.

	TIGHT ON ERIC

	Angry, ready to battle:  You talking to me?

				SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)
		Your job is done.  You interfere
		with the living again.

				ERIC
		Tell me I'll get hurt.  That I 
		might die.
			(beat)
		I've already done that.  I don't 
		need anyone's help.  Yours 
		included.

	STAIR ANGLE - ERIC AND SKULL COWBOY

	Eric lower, Skull Cowboy superior, the storm wild around them.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Do this thing and you will be
		vulnerable.  The blood will not
		return.
			(beat)
		No powers.  No reunion.  Nothing.

				ERIC
		Fine with me.

	He ADVANCES a step up; the Skull Cowboy Hold fast.

				SKULL COWBOY
		You'll be alone.

				ERIC
		I'm already alone.

	INT. BELL TOWER - NIGHT

	Through a castle keep-like slit, Grange monitors Eric's
	arrival.  He speaks into a headset.

				GRANGE
		We've got company.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		Is he inside?

	GRANGE'S POV - ERIC

	Eric Talking to dead air.  Almost arguing with it.  Eerie.

	RESUME GRANGE

	As he talks into his mike he hefts a nightscoped, laser-sighted
	sniper's rifle.

				GRANGE
		He's just out front talking to
		himself.  You tell me. 

	EXT. CHURCH - RESUMING ERIC ON STEPS - NIGHT

	Eric, eyes steely, stares down the Skull Cowboy.

				ERIC
		Don't waste my time.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Very well, it's your ass.

	And the wind kicks up around them both, powerfully.

	ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY (EFFECT)

	As the force of the storm dust-devils around him and begins to
	disassemble him.  The fire in his eye sockets goes out.  His hat
	flies off an is pulverized by the wind.  The garments begin to
	disintegrate and blow around, rotten cerements falling apart in
	mid-air.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS -- transfixed by this unexpected
	development.  A shard of the Skull Cowboy blows past Eric's face 
	and transmutes to dust!

	RESUME SKULL COWBOY AT TOP OF STEPS (EFFECT)

	Transparent, ancient bones, crumbling and blowing away.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

	As Eric lunges for what's left of his mysterious, smart-ass
	mentor
	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S LUNGING HAND

	Meeting only a swirl of vaporous dust where the Skull Cowboy's
	heart would have been.

	TIGHT ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

	He has time to register the dust in his palm before it, too,
	renders down to nothingness,  leaving a vague green glow that
	dies.  And as he looks to the sky --

	UP ANGLE - THE CROW

	flapping down to land on Eric's shoulder.  Eric is astonished.

				ERIC
		But why are you still here?

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	No answer in the crow's eyes.

	RESUME AND FOLLOW ERIC

	That's good enough for Eric.  He marches to the double doors and
	shoves them back.

	INT. CHURCH - AS ERIC COMES THROUGH THE DOORS - NIGHT

	The high breeze blows in with him, disturbing dust in the
	disused Gothic dark.  Hollow cathedral ECHOES to sounds.  A
	giant 27" TV positioned on the alter, broadcasting static.

	LONG SHOT - ERIC AS HE APPROACHES THE ALTER - ("CROWVISION")

	Leery of potential danger from a thousand dark places.

	ANGLE - THE TV - AS ERIC ENTERS FRAME

	Onscreen:  Elly, gagged with duct tape and handcuffed to an iron
	ring bolted to a flagstone wall.  Could be anywhere inside the
	church.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		I believe our friend Elly call
		you Mister Crow.
			(beat)
		Please acknowledge; the mike
		will pick you up.
		
				ERIC
		I can see her.

				LAO
		Of course you can.
	ANGLE - GRANGE IN THE GALLERY --  in darkness.  The running
	lights on his night-scoped, laser-sighted sniper's rifle which
	THROWS vague sprays of eerie red and green light.

				LAO (CONT'D; O.S./FILTERED)
		Don't permit your rage to cloud
		the issue.  I believe in barter.
		I propose a simple trade.

	Grange sights his weapon.

	CROSSHAIR POV - ERIC AT THE ALTER

	Bluring as Grange resights.  Eric is not the target.  Blur
	FINDS the crow at the far end of the nave, perched in front of
	a giant stained glass window.

	NEW ANGLE - GRANGE -- squeezing off two quick, SILENCED shots.

	ANGLE - STAINED GLASS WINDOW -- the first shot blows a hole in
	some pastoral religious presentation.  TINKLE of glass.

	ANGLE - ERIC -- Spinning at the quiet !pfut! sound, to witness.

	ANGLE - INCOMING DART - ("CROWVISION")

	SPinning and hissing venomously.

	ANGLE - ERIC DUCKS

	As before, but the crow is not as fast.

	TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

	As it catches the dart and goes down in a flurry of feathers.

	LOW ANGLE - ERIC AT ALTER - INCLUDE TV

	His knees buckle.  Sympathetic PAIN from the hit.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		You intended to finish this
		evening in the cemetery.  I am 
		here to help you on your way.

	ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE IN GALLERY

	Swapping his tranquilizer gun for a more lethal rifle, similarly 
	scoped.  He sights the fallen Eric in a spray of green light.

	HIGH ANGLE - HAND HELD - ERIC AT ALTER

	Groping for support to drag himself back to standing.

				GRANGE (O.S.)
		I've got him if you want him.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		No shooting.

				GRANGE
			(into headset)
		Move in, guys.

	HIGH ANGLE - THE SANCTUARY -- as Lao Guards #3 and #4 move
	into light, closing on Eric's position in the center of isle.
	Both wield calico's and one bears a sword.

	CLOSE ANGLE - ALTER -- Lao makes his entrance from shadow
	wearing a brisk pugilist get-up, a practical fighting outfit.
	Makes a show of drawing the killing blade.

				LAO
		I wish to possess what you have now.

				ERIC
		I want the girl.  Unharmed.  Now.

				LAO
		I know.  That is why I will
		prevail.  Mr. Grange... ?

	Eric CRAMPS UP, CLUTCHING his throat in obvious pain.

	ANGLE - GRANGE AT STAINED GLASS WINDOW

	Holding the crow by the neck, TIGHTLY.  He plucks the tranq dart
	from the its body.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AS LAO MOVES IN CLOSER

	Crashing to one knee, invisibly bludgeoned, struggling to
	breathe.  Lao has no fear, walking around the stricken Eric.

				LAO
		Sooner or later, my action were
		destined to bring me a genuine
		Fury.  And it turned out to be you.
		At last.  I appreciate your
		abilities as few mortals can.
		That's why I desire them.

				ERIC
		You're too late.  There was a guy
		outside - on the stairs - you
		really need to talk to.  But he 
		turned to dust and blew away.
			(beat, gasping)
		I don't have any power for you to take.

				LAO
		I don't believe that.
	Lao motions to Grange with the killing blade.  Grange RELAXES
	his deathgrip on the crow.  MOVE IN CLOSE on Eric so we may
	perceive a palpable degree of relief.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Time for you to die for me.
			 (beat)
		Funny, how the dead can still
		bleed.  How they need air.

	Eric IMMOBILIZED as Lao DRAWS BACK the Blade.  To Grange:

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Break its neck.

	ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE AT WINDOW as he prepares to do dirty on
	the bird.

	Over his shoulder, we PUSH in to the BULLETHOLE from the first
	dart until we're in TIGHT CLOSE-UP of an eye watching through 
	the hole.

	EXT. CHURCH - OBVERSE OF WINDOW - NIGHT

	Albrecht digs through a sling bag of weaponry, trying to
	simultaneously monitor the peephole, muttering sotto to
	himself.

				ALBRECHT
		Had to go get yourself hip-deep in
		shit, didn't you, my friend.

	It begins to rain.  Albrecht glances resentfully toward the 
	sky.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Give it a rest, huh?

	A hefts a machinegun, clipped over and under.  CUTS LOOSE on
	full auto into the Madonna on the window.

	INT.  CHURCH NAVE - NIGHT

	As the window EXPLODES toward Grange and he sucks big hits from
	behind, DROPPING the crow.  The bird hits the ground, flapping
	weakly.

	LAO GUARDS #3 & #4 exchange a look and whip up their Calicos,
	RETURNING FIRE.

	EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT

	Albrecht takes cover as a lot of religious stuff is noisily
	destroyed all around his position.  Chunks of the window
	continue to disintegrate. 

	INT. CHURCH ALTER (NIGHT)

	Eric tuck-and-rolls out of the way as we go CLOSE on Lao, 
	screaming.

				LAO
		I said no shooting!

	Then he's ducking bullets himself as Albrecht STEPS IN through
	the blown out window, the machine gun stuttering on slugs.

	The sanctuary comes apart around Lao.  He RETREATS to the alter
	and EXITS whence he came.

	TIGHT ON PEW -- ERIC DIVES just as Guard #4 comes after him with
	the sword, which chomps into the wood and gets stuck there.
	Guard #4 releases it and cross draws his Calico as ERIC springs
	back into the frame -- STRAIGHT UP.

	TIGHT ON GUARD #4 as Eric's lancing foot propels him backward
	before he can fire.

	INTERCUTS -- ALBRECHT AND GUARD #3 scrambling to reload.  Guard
	changes magazine; Albrecht swaps clips.

	ANGLE - DOWN LENGTH OF PEW -- Guard #4 slides.  Sits up with his 
	gun as Eric, down-pew, grabs the sword.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT WINDOW  firing now with a gun in each hand.

	RESUME ERIC AND GUARD #4, who eats it from Albrecht's gunfire,
	but not before he puts a round through Eric.

	Eric staggers back from the impact but keeps his feet.  

	RESUME ALBRECHT as he tosses away the dry pistol.  His machine
	gun jams, he fights to get the clip.

	ANGLE - GUARD #3 -- reloaded and rising, having caught Albrecht
	dead-bang in the open by the window.

	MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC --  A complex leap with the sword
	flashing.  He lands near Guard #3 and SLASHES UPWARDS, blade up.

	CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3 -- screaming in pain, gaping DOWN O.S.

	TIGHT ON ALBRECHT - looking UP, following the trajectory of
	something AIRBORNE toward him.

	CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3'S Calico spinning mid-air with Guard #3s
	HANDS still attached, severed mid-forearm by Eric's devastating
	strike.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT drops Guard #3 -- to REVEAL Eric in the
	background.  Eric salutes Albrecht with the tip of the sword.

	WITH ALBRECHT as he moves into the nave, which has been torn
	apart by gunfire.  Hazy smoke.  Two dead guys.  And Eric.

				ALBRECHT
		You sorta looked like you might
		need my help.

				ERIC
		This isn't your place.  This isn't
		your fight.  And I don't need
		your help.

				ALBRECHT
		You're welcome.

				ERIC
		Leave here.  Don't do this.  I
		don't want you here.

				ALBRECHT
		The hell you say.  This isn't just 
		about you any more.

	Eric stares dead-on at Albrecht, acidly, then BREAKS the Guard's 
	sword, dropping the pieces and turning his back on Albrecht, who
	pursues Eric to: 

	INT. SPIRAL STAIRCASE - TO BELL TOWER - NIGHT

	The crow FLAPS UPWARD through the void.  Eric grabs the thick
	bellrope, testing it.  A final look to Albrecht.

				ERIC
		Don't interfere.

				ALBRECHT
		You're bleeding, man.  You can't
		make it.

	Eric shinnies up the bellrope, ignoring Albrecht.

	ON ALBRECHT

	Watching as Eric dissappears from view, fast..  Grumbles.

				ALBRECHT
		You won't mind if I just take the
		stairs, then, smartass...

	He hefts his arsenal bag of hardware and begins to plod up the
	steps.

	ANGLE - MOVING WITH ERIC ON THE ROPE -- A weird perspective of
	speed climb.  Zip!  All the way to the top.

	EXT - CHURCH ROOF - NIGHT

	Slanted, shingled, slippery, dark.  Lightning deep in the turbid
	clouds.  The crow circles as Eric RISES INTO FRAME.

				ERIC
		Here I am.

	DOWNFRAME lightning STRIKES the ornate LIGHTNING ROD (large,
	Victorian, lance-like) at the far end of the roof from the bell
	tower.

	SILHOUETTING Lao and Elly standing in front of it.  Elly
	flinches at the strike.

				LAO
		Can you fly, Crow man?

	INT. BELLTOWER SPIRAL STAIRS - RESUMING ALBRECHT

	He stops his ascent to light a cigarette.

				ALBRECHT
		I ain't cut out for this superhero
		shit.

	EXT. CHURCH ROOF - RESUMING LAO - NIGHT

	Lao SNAPS Elly's free handcuff to the dimly glowing  lightning
	rod and advances, one foot on either side of the peak of the
	roof, his blade brandished.

	CLOSE MOVING SHOT - ERIC -- Hands up to grapple, but
	weaponless.  He spiders to meet Lao, suddenly PICKING UP SPEED
	and RUNNING along the precarious peak.

	Lao sees him coming, braces to strike, but Eric executes a BROAD
	FLYING LEAP right over Lao's head.

	ERIC LANDS, SLIPS, sprawls sideways, clinging to the peak of the
	roof.  Lao hurries in to slash with the blade, as Eric averts.
	The steel RINGS.  Eric converts his dodge into a low spin kick
	that DUMPS Lao.

	Eric SPREAD-EAGLES to keep from falling.  Distantly, Lao
	similarly saves himself.

	NEW ANGLE -- THE FIGHT -- Here comes Lao, crabbing back toward
	the peak.  Eric ROLLS to Elly's position, GRABS the lightning
	rod and tries to wrest it loose.

	SIZZLE OF FLESH as Eric's hands are scorched: the metal is still
	blue-hot.

	MOVING WITH LAO as Eric battles to free the lightning rod.  Lao
	closes up distance, gives a warcry and prepares to swing as - 

	Eric WRENCHES the rod loose and turns to deflect Lao's blow.
	The weapons spark as they meet... and there goes Elly, her
	handcuff freed, SLIDING DOWN THE ROOF SLOPE.

	ANGLE  -- ROOF SLOPE -- WITH ERIC  as he dodges Lao by using the
	lightning rod to vault down to where Elly is about to slip off
	the roof.

	With the rod embedded in the roof, Eric hangs on, and elly hangs 
	on to Eric.

	UP ANGLE -- LAO, a dark figure against the night sky, raising
	the sword.

				LAO
		Face me!

	Eric guides Elly to the top of one of the flying buttresses.
	When he looks up, Lao is gone.

	ANGLE - BELL TOWER -- Albrecht's head pokes up at last.  Looks
	around, finally spots Eric below and to the left.  YELLS, serio-comic.

				ALBRECHT
		Is he dead yet?

	INSERT - ALBRECHT'S HOLSTER as Lao's hand draws Albrecht's
	gun quickly.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND LAO --Lao has blindsided Albrecht.

				LAO
		No.  You are.

	He jams the gun into the base of ALbrecht's neck and fires three times.

	CLOSE ANGLE - ERIC - He's too far away to matter.  Shock.

	INSERT - ALBRECHT'S CIGARETTE as it rolls down the slope,
	trailing sparks, snuffing out.

	ANGLE - ERIC holding onto the lightning rod as lightning CUTS the
	night above him.

	ANGLE -- LAO AT BELL TOWER, triumphant and a bit wild, SHOUTING.
				LAO
		You've caused another death,
		Mister Draven!  The girl will die
		as well -- because of you!

	ANGLE - ELLY ON FLYING BUTTRESS

	The base of a triangle - Lao, Eric, Elly.

				ELLY
		You go to hell, you pervert!

	RESUME ERIC

	Rage over the loss of Albrecht.  He RISES, hurting but mad as
	hell.  GLARES UP toward Lao.

				ERIC
		And how many lives have you destroyed?

				LAO
		I took yours from you.  Your
		little girlfriend?  I took hers,
		too.  Your meaningless, petty
		life?  I took it so that tonight
		your existence might gain a
		purpose.  You're no avenger.
		You're mine.

	PUSH IN TIGHT ON ERIC.

	Eyes alight with hatred for Lao.

				ERIC
			 (to himself)
		You're right, I'm not an avenger. 
		Not any more.

	As lightning strikes, Eric Fires his gaze TOWARD THE SKY.

	HIGH ANGLE - LAO ON ROOFTOP - ("CROWVISION")

	SEEING the crash dive toward Lao through the row's eyes.

	ANGLE  - LAO ON ROOFTOP

	As the crow wings down INTO FRAME and lights on Lao's head, CLAWING!

	CLOSE-UP -- THE CROW ON LAO'S HEAD slashing with its claws.
	Pecking out Lao's eyes.

	WITH ERIC -- on the roofslope as he totters but maintains his
	climb, the crow/Lao UPFRAME B.G.

	RESUME LAO -- as the crow abandons him.  Lao STAGGERS AND FALLS
	down the roof - toward Eric.
	SLANTED ANGLE -- ERIC AND LAO -- Eric ARRESTS Lao's fall,
	fisting lapels and bringing him nose to nose.  Fury.

				ERIC
		Time for a sacrifice.

	Lao's face is a hideous bloody mask with black holes where the
	eyes used to be.  He smiles gruesomely.

				LAO
		I don't need eyes to take what I
		want from you.

	He EMBRACES Eric and RAMS the killing blade deep into Eric's
	back!

	ON ERIC as he looks down to see the blade protruding from his
	sternum.  Tight grimace.  A lot of pain.

				ERIC
		Can you fly?

	He pulls Lao into a BACKWARD ROLL down the roof, HOLDING HIM
	TIGHT.

	MOVING ANGLE -- INTERCUTS -- ERIC AND LAO FALL

	Eric lands on his back, forcing the blade THROUGH himself and
	INTO Lao.  Eric completes the roll and KICKS Lao off INTO SPACE,
	the killing blade still embedded in him!

	WITH LAO as crashes, sliding, sprawling down PAST Elly's
	position.  Gets to his knees atop the flying buttress.  Sees the
	blade in his own chest.

	CLOSE-UP - ELLY - she sees it all happen.

	RESUME LAO - a regretful look toward Eric.  He PLUMMETS off the 
	roof edge.

	ANGLE - ERIC SLIDES DOWN ROOF --  He slows, stopping when Elly
	is in frame.  He clutches his own chest.  Regards his own
	shaking hand, drenched in his won blood.  Glazed.

	ON ELLY, as she finally gets the duct tape off her mouth, trying
	to get to Eric.  She flails and cries out.

				ELLY
		Don't let me fall!

	CLOSE-UP -- their hands finally meet and GRASP TIGHT.

	EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (LATER) (RAIN)

	A low angle TRACKING SHOT (as when we first met Elly).

	Eric's and Elly's feet pass graves.  Eric's pace is slow, crippled, 
	limping.  They STOP at a grave where elly BENDS INTO FRAME to steal 
	the flowers there.

	Eric is bloody and out of it.  She helps him walk.

				ELLY
		Now do you get to see her? Shelly, I mean.

				ERIC
		In a better place.  I hope.

				ELLY
		You're not gonna come back, are you?

	Eric's response is halting and uncertain.  But he tries to give
	her hope.  He reaches for Shelly's ring around her neck, holds
	it up to her.

				ERIC
		I don't know if I can.  But you
		have this... and you know where to come.

				ELLY
		You mean you'll, like' dig your way
		out of the grave?  Euww.

	Eric is amused by this in spite of his grievous injuries.

	He grasps Elly's face in his hands and bends, painfully,to kiss
	her on the forehead.

				ERIC
		For you, I'll try.  Promise.

	MOVE WITH ERIC

	Spent, empty, he holds the rose determinedly, but he's never
	going to make it the few yards back to his own grave.  So close.

	His legs finally go and he collapses onto the humus.  One
	groping hand tries to drag him further.

				ERIC
		Leave me now.

	ANGLE - ELLY

	Tears on her face.  She can't watch this.  She TURNS and drops
	the flowers on Shelly's grave.

	ERIC'S POV - HIS OWN GRAVE

	Still too far away to matter.

	RESUME ERIC ON GROUND

	He gives it up, his face sinking into the wet grass for a beat
	before SHELLY'S HAND intrudes INTO FRAME to GRASP his hand.

	No ethereal glow, no heavenly choir... just a near-dead Eric's
	blank-faced astonishment, and he moves forward.

	ANGLE - ELLY - SHELLY'S GRAVE BG

	She struggles to get her hood up against the rain and roughly
	wipes the moisture from her face with her sleeve.  She turns
	toward Eric's grave.  Then, surprised, she looks close.

	ANGLE - ERIC'S GRAVE

	Eric is gone.  The white rose lies neatly on the top of the
	undisturbed  earth there.

	HIGH ANGLE - CEMETERY

	Emphasizing that Elly is now ALONE in the graveyard.

	LOW ANGLE on Elly, ROSE in the foreground --

	She walks OFF.  HOLD the rose.

							CUT TO:

	INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY (OVERCAST)

	A grey day but no rain.  Elly stands wistfully by the window,
	her doll on standby.  The apartment is in order and perhaps we
	notice a few new items.  Gabriel the cat, miraculously ALIVE, is
	sprawled on a chair, licking himself.  Darla BUSTLES INTO FRAME
	B.G.  Her wardrobe more upscale, her hair done.  Her manner is
	hectic but natural.

				DARLA
		Worktime, kiddo.  First day, new
		job, gotta go.

	This does not get the expected smile from Elly.

				DARLA (CONT'D)
		You sure you're gonna be okay?

	Elly turns from the window and NODS silently.

	ELLY'S POV - OUTSIDE

	The aforementioned grey day in the city.

	ANGLE - DARLA AND ELLY AT THE WINDOW.

	Darla comes up.  Arm around Elly.  Cheer up; he attitude much
	more connected and loving.  PUSH IN ON ELLY so we know she is
	clutching SHelly's ring tightly in her hand.  Darla looks past
	Elly, out the window.

				DARLA
		At least it finally stopped
		raining.

				ELLY
		It can't rain all the time.

	Darla kisses Elly on the temple and it out the door.  Elly OPENS
	her hand to consider the ring.  She looks back out the window --

	ANGLE - THE CROW ON THE LEDGE

	Elly is looking right at it.  Same crow.  We're positive.  So is
	Elly.  It TAKES WING and flies away.

	EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

	An UP ANGLE from Eric's grave toward the tree as the crow FLIES
	INTO FRAME and perches there, shucking water.  PUSH IN on the
	crow.  Watching.  Waiting.

							SLOW FADE TO DEAD BLACK. 

							THE ENDThe CROW

	by

	Davis Schow

	based on a screenplay by
	John Shirley

	Based on the comic book
	created, drawn, and written by
	James O'Barr

	September 14, 1992

	FADE IN:

	EXT. CEMETERY - LATE AFTERNOON

	BOOM!  A crack of lightning illuminates the silhouette of a
	perched crow large in the f.g.

	TIGHT ANGLE - FRESH GRAVE

	As a spade smooths the walls of a new double-decker plot.

				DIMITRI (O.S.)
		We're losing the light; let's pack
		it in.

	ANGLE - DIMITRI AND ALEXI

	TWO GRAVEDIGGERS.  Scoop digger parked f.g. towering gothic-
	style church b.g.  Rolls of astro turf.  They look up toward 
	the sky.

				ALEXI
		Snow, maybe?

				DIMITRI
		What, you gonna ski on this?

	He indicates the mound of fresh dirt.  Spits into the grave.

				DIMITRI (CONT'D)
		Come on, let's bag this.  It's
		beer time.

	Alexi nods and unfurls the tarp over the dirt.

	LOW ANGLE TRACKING SHOT - FLOWERS ON GRAVES

	As we MOVE alongside a pair of canvas-sided combat boots, as the 
	wearer collects the most lively flowers from each grave in 
	sequence.

	TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

	Cemetery DEFOCUSED b.g.  Large, glossy-black, the bird follows
	the arc of movement in the previous shot.  Ruffles its feathers
	as it begins to sprinkle rain.

	ANGLE - ELLY - RESUMING HER MOTION

	A dirty-blondish tenement KID of eleven, clad in a blend of cast-
	offs and hand-me-downs; her version of street punk chic.  She
	totes a skateboard under one arm (itself a berserk Jackson
	Pollock chaos of band stickers, silver marker and graffiti, with
	day-glo wheels), and transfers her impromptu bouquet so she may
	unzip a flap and hike up a ragged hood against the rain.  She 
	stops to watch the grave diggers pack up and EXIT b.g.

				ELLY
		Guess the picnic got rained out.

	She looks down o.s. at --

	ANGLE - SHELLY WEBSTER'S GRAVE

	as Elly places the gathered flowers down.  Almost reverent.

	RESUME CROW ANGLE - ELLY B.G.

	as Elly takes a single white rose and places it atop the grave
	near Shelly Webster's.

	ANGLE ON GRAVE - AS ELLY LEAVES

	TILT UP from rose to the name: ERIC DRAVEN. Rain spatters the 
	granite, darkening it.

	EXTREME CLOSE-UP - CROW's EYE

	It blinks in its alien way.

	WITH THE CROW

	as it takes wing from it's unseen perch.  Lands stop Eric's
	headstone.  It pecks tentatively at the top of the monument.

	ANGLE - ELLY NEAR ERIC'S GRAVE

	She hasn't gotten too far before she notices the bird.

				ELLY
		Oh, scary.

	The bird blinks at her from the headstone.
				ELLY
		What are you, like, the night
		watchman?

	Another blink from El Birdo.

	CAMERA WITH ELLY -  BOOMING BACK HIGH

	as she exits the iron gates of the cemetery without looking
	back.  Brutal building facades, like dead eyes, and bad
	alleyways, like hungry mouths, are gradually revealed as we
	continue PULLING BACK to unveil that the cemetery is smack in
	the middle of the city.

	EXT. MAXI-DOGS - TWILIGHT - RAIN CONTINUES

	CLOSE-UP of a foot-long hot dog being drowned in mustard.

				MICKEY (O.S.)
		What this place needs is a good
		natural catastrophe.  Earthquake,
		tornado...

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND MICKEY

	ALBRECHT is a black beat cop, 35, in a rain slicker.

	MICKEY is the grease-aproned entrepreneur of MAXI DOGS, a steamy
	open-front fast foodery.

				ALBRECHT
		You gotta put the mustard
		underneath first.

				MICKEY
		Maybe a flood, like in the Bible.

				ALBRECHT
		Here, let me do it.

	He grabs the dog from Mickey.  Mickey puffs his cigar while he
	cooks.  Albrecht methodically spreads a napkin and performs
	surgery on the hot dog, coating the bun with mustard, rolling
	the dog in the bun.  Flashes Mickey a "gimme" look. 

				ALBRECHT
		Come on... onion.  Don't cheap
		out on me.  Lotta onions.

	MOVING ANGLE - AS ELLY SKATEBOARDS TOWARDS MAXI DOGS

				MICKEY
		Heyyy -- it's the Elly monster.

				ALBRECHT
		How do you ride that thing on a 
		wet street?

				ELLY
		Talent. Hi.

				ALBRECHT
		Care for a hot dog?

				ELLY
		You buying?

				ALBRECHT
		I'm buying.

	Elly grabs the stool next to Albrecht.  They`ve done this routine before.

				ELLY
		No onions though, okay?

				ALBRECHT
			(horror)
		No onions?

				ELLY
		They make you fart.

	Mickey laughs.  Spots Elly a Coke.

				MICKEY
		What's goin' on, Elly?

				ELLY
		I went to see a friend of mine.

				MICKEY
		Well, how's your friend?

				ELLY
		She's still dead.

	Albrecht and Mickey exchange a look re:  Elly's matter-of-
	factness.

	EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (RAIN)

	Thunder KABOOMS o.s.  The crow pecks the top of the stone again
	and a chip of granite flies off, bang!

	EXTREME CLOSE - THE HEADSTONE

	as the crow pecks again and draws blood from the rock.

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	A dot of blood on its ebony beak.

	LOW ANGLE - HEADSTONE

	A thin, watery trickle of blood wanders from the top of the
	stone towards the earth.  Rain does not interfere.  Lightning
	plays in the rolling cloud cover, b.g.

	RESUME THE CROW

	as it takes off from the gravestone, into the rain.

	CLOSE-UP - THE BLOOD

	It slowly fills the name Eric Draven into the rock.

	CLOSE-UP - FOOT TAPPER

	A LOW ANGLE like the SHOT introducing Elly's boot.  This time
	we see cowboy boots, leather chaps.  The foot taps.  Waiting.

	MEDIUM ANGLE - THE FOOT TAPPER

	as lightning strikes.  Just enough for us to see a figure in a 
	long duster and a cowboy hat.

	RESUME ERIC'S HEADSTONE

	DRAVEN fills with blood.  Blood continues groundward.

	NEW ANGLE - THE FOOT TAPPER

	Turning to meet FRAME as the crow alights on his outstretched 
	arm.  This is the SKULL COWBOY.  We glimpse the deathshead,
	beneath the brim of the cowboy hat.

	RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

	as blood trickles into the turf at the base of the grave.

	TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

	shaking off rain.  Watching intently.

	CLOSE-UP - THE SKULL COWBOY'S FREE HAND

	Black gloved.  It walks a flat silver throwing knife across it's
	knuckles, like a quarter somersaulting.

	RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

	The turf stirs beneath the white rose.  Magically, a slim white
	parts the earth to grasp the rose.

	SKULL COWBOY POV - ERIC's GRAVE

	as the figure of Eric Draven stands up from behind his own
	headstone.

	LOW ANGLE (FROM GRAVE) - ERIC

	Pale.  Clad in cerements: cheap black burial suit, slit open in 
	back.  WHite shirt.  A nothing tie.  No shoes.  Rain sluices mud
	from his upturned face.  He looks to the sky.  Lightning.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - FOLLOW ERIC

	as he weaves to lean against a nearby tree.  Looks o.s.

	ERIC's POV - THE SKULL COWBOY

	water-blurred, through the rain, standing with the crow perched
	on his arm like a hunting falcon.  He releases it and it flies
	to the tree.

	ANGLE -  ERIC

	Watching this.  Wipes mud from his eyes, tries to clear vision.
	The crow lights in the tree and they meet eye-to-eye.  Eric
	looks back o.s. and we RACK to include the Skull Cowboy.

				ERIC
		What the hell are you?

				SKULL COWBOY
		Interested?  Follow the crow.

	NB.  The Skull Cowboy speaks in nicely distorted, buzzlike
	charnal house whisper.  Unsettling and hackle-raising.

	Eric turns back to the bird, which takes wing in the rain, His
	eyes follow it.  He looks back, disoriented, doubtful, but the 
	Skull Cowboy is gone.

	LOW DEEP ANGLE - THE CROW

	Taking wing in the rain, showing the way.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

	alone in the cemetery.  After a moments hesitation, he lurches
	off, following the crow.

							DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH:

	A candy-flaked muscle T-bird is parked at the curb.

	INT. ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT

	A MOVING SHOT during o.s. lines.  Past dead video and pinball
	devices.  Pasta desk with an open briefcase, coffee cup,
	ashtray -- someone was just there.  Then past a WOMAN, trussed
	with duct tape to her office chair, gagged, hot fear in her 
	darting eyes.

	COMPLETE CAMERA MOVE to include SKANK, a blade-thin speed freak 
	with pattern baldness, always loud, jittery, a manic dust puppy.
	And T-BIRD, an arrogant Arayan, brush-cut iron pumper, who is
	prepping an incendiary.  He exhibits a small squeeze bottle of
	arson cocktail to Skank.

				T-BIRD
		Uncle T-Bird's 100-proof
		accelerator.  I squirt you with
		this, you could jump in the 
		Detroit river and burn all the way
		to the bottom.

	INSERT A CLOSE-UP of the bomb in his hands as he works.  Silver
	canisters, an LED timer, wires.

				T-BIRD (CONT'D)
		You know, Lake Erie actually
		caught on fire once, from all the
		crap in it.  Wish I coulda seen
		that.

	He CLICKS a switch.  PEEP.  LED countdown blurs.

				T-BIRD (CONT'D)
		We're ready to rock.

	Skank notices the captive woman's handbag on the floor.  Picks
	it up.  Looks through it for valuables.

				SKANK
		What about working girl?

	INTERCUT the woman's increasingly horrified reactions.

				T-BIRD
		What about her?

				SKANK
		I say we leave her here to fry,
		man.

	T-Bird looks casually at the woman.  Smiles hideously.

				T-BIRD
		No.  Let's take her with us.

	ANGLE - THE WOMAN

	Her eyes bug in a terrified NO!

	EXT. STREET - MOVING - NIGHT

	As the T-Bird fishtails wildly around the corner and eats street.

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELLING - NIGHT

	TB drives.  One eye on his digital watch (doing an equally
	fast countdown).  Skank wrestles their captive, the woman, in
	the back seat.

				TB
			(pissed off)
		Skank, shut her the fuck up!

	SKank punches her and she sags.  Then he looks forward.

				SKANK
		Whoaaa -- T-Bird, red light, red
		light!

	EXT. STREET CORNER NEAR MAXI-DOGS - NIGHT

	As the T-Bird slews wide, cutting sidewalk, scattering
	nightwalkers, immediately attracting everybody's attention.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT - AT MAXI-DOGS

	Reacting, with a mouthful.

				ALBRECHT
		Goddammit.

	Mickey grabs the counter phone instantly.

				MICKEY
		Call it in?

	Albrecht is off and running for the corner already.

				ALBRECHT
		Yeah, do it!
			(to Elly)
		Stay right there!

	HOLD ON MICKEY.  He points at Albrecht's hot dog.  Yecch.

				MICKEY
			(yelling after)
		You want I should save this for
		you?

	EXT. MOUTH OF ALLEY ACROSS FROM CEMETERY - NIGHT

	The car slides to a nose-down panic stop.

				SKANK (O.S.)
		Dump her, man, dump her!

	The woman comes tumbling from the car, which blasts off with a
	war hoop from the guys inside.

	ANGLE - CORNER - ON ALBRECHT

	Gun out, hauling ass on wet pavement.  Aims at the departing
	car.  Gives it up.  Still too far away.  Pedestrians in the way.

	ANGLE - THE WOMAN

	hurting, cut, bleeding, tottering toward the dumpster.  Duct tape 
	stuck to her face but cut away around her mouth.  With her as
	she falls into the alley darkness... straight into the arms of

	CLOSE TWO-SHOT - ERIC AND THE WOMAN

	Their eyes lock.  Eric stiffens with his first FLASH.

	NB:  Eric's flashes of past memory are conditioned by the nature
	of things with which he makes physical contact.  Hints and
	fragments in fierce, super-saturated COLOR.  Puzzle pieces he
	must assemble.  Each flash keynoted by a BLOWBACK NOISE and 
	accompanied by a degree of pain.  It hurts to remember.

	FLASH:  INT. T-BIRD - WOMAN'S STRUGGLE

	The faces of Skank and T-Bird are murky, ephemeral, their voices
	hideous, distorted echoes.  A knife snaps open.  We see the 
	blade.  Blood.  Skank hits her, pow! and --

				FLASH ENDS.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND WOMAN

	An airborne crow POV spiralling up and away from them.

							MATCH WITH:

	ANGLE - THE CROW

	perched on a fire escape, high above, watching and waiting.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AND WOMAN

	She fades.  He lets her drop away, horrified.  And staggers back
	into the cover of the alley.  Her blood is on his hands.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT RUNNING

	Skidding in, spotting the woman.  Kneeling to her.

				ALBRECHT
		Here now!  You're gonna be okay!
		Can you understand me?  I'm a
		police officer...

	The woman is no longer in pain.  Deathly calm now.

				WOMAN
		He touched me and it stopped.  The
		pain.

				ALBRECHT
		What did you say?

				WOMAN
		I saw a ghost...

	Her eyes roll back and she dies in Albrecht's arms.

				ALBRECHT
		Oh no... don't go, darlin', you
		stay with me, now... shit!

	HIGH ANGLE CROW POV - THE ALLEY

	BOOMING BACK from Albrecht, the woman, onlookers, as police
	units screech up to assist.

	EXT. ALLEY BEHIND ARCADES GAMES SUPPLY HOUSE - ON ERIC - NIGHT

	Eric in lurching flight, panting.  Stops and steadies against
	the wall across from the backside of Arcade Games.

	ANGLE - THE CROW (FLYING)

	Circling, then lighting on the fire escape above Eric.

	BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES - ("CROWVISION")

	"CROWVISION" is what the crow "gives" Eric to see.  Visually 
	distinct and immediately identifiable.

	ERIC'S POV - BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES

	Which he's already seen through the crow's eyes.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	looking up at the crow.  Disoriented.  Doesn't understand.
	Suddenly he cottons, and covers his eyes just in time to shield
	from:

	ANGLE - BACK OF ARCADE GAMES

	The rear windows EXPLODING outward in a spray of fire and
	debris.

	ANGLE - WITH ERIC

	he reels back, crashes into a dumpster.  Falls.

	ANGLE - THE CROW

	landing on the dumpsters edge near a pair of discarded combat
	boots in the trash.  Flames.

	LOW ANGLE - ERIC

	The blood from his hands mars his burial shirt.  He tears the
	shirt away, leaving his tie absurdly intact.  Wipes his face
	with his shirt.  Discards it.  Stops, held by his discovery --

	PUSH IN ON ERIC

	as his fingers explore the five puckered bullet punctures in his
	chest.  Almost a circle.  Comically, he feels his back foe exit
	wounds.  Then hauls himself upright, coming level with the crow.
	His glance at the bird is almost accusatory.

	ANGLE - THe CROW

	Inscrutable.  We should get the idea that some silent
	communication is taking place.

	ANGLE - ERIC'S FEET 

	bare, muddied, frozen.  TILT to Eric.  His gaze moves from the
	crow to the boots in the trash.  He grabs them, pushes them onto
	his bare feet.  His eyes catch the firelight.  Distant o.s.
	SIRENS

				ERIC
		Fire.  In the rain.

							DISSOLVE TO:

	INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

	We are now within the neon techno-depths of Club Trash.  The BG
	music is hard, savage, primal:  a doom-laden Radio Werewolf band
	rules.  Cabaret Blitzkrieg, packed with Death-to-Yup
	trendazoids.  We'll see more of this circus later.  Right now
	the BG SOUND is our biggest clue to the flavor of this
	establishment since we are --

	TIGHT CLOSE-UP A FRAMED 8X10

	Thinly filmed in dust, mounted among dozens of other band shots.
	Visible among the posed members of a group called Diabolique is
	Eric, wielding guitar on the club stage.  ND BLUR as people 
	CROSS FRAME.

	GRANGE, 45-50, powerful, a seasoned assassin, cruel but loyal.
	His facade remains stony as he leads three other men briskly
	down the corridor.:  NGO NWA, 50ish, clad Chinese gangster style
	- white topcoat, white scarf, tinted shades - and two body guards
	supplying a power perimeter around him,lean, dark-haired Asian
	killers who would gladly die for Ngo Nwa, which they will in 
	just a minute.

	They have just passed the Diabolique 8X10.  Ngo Nwa's gloved
	fingers, in passing, leave little skid tracks in the dust that
	clear the eyes of Eric in the photo.

	As the foursome reaches the DOOR, Grange turns doubtfully -- 
	suspiciously -- to Nwa.

				NGO NWA
		He will see me... unannounced.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - THE DOOR

	As Grange keys in the enter code the door hisses open.  Without
	a word, Nwa passes inside and the door is pulled shut in
	Grange's face by the Bodyguards, who post themselves to either
	side.

	INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

	The door CLOSES and the BG NOISE is GONE.  Through a large window
	(mirrored on the club side) all sorts of activity is visible
	through automatic mini-blinds.  A fly-vision bank of 12 TV
	monitors is hot with surveillance.

	LAO, a painfully clean-cut, Armani-clad Asian, impeccable,
	almost dashing, but the dynamic here is crystal clear: Nwa is
	the King: Lao, the dark prince in this hierarchy.

	At the desk, Lao is startled from his contemplation of a tiny,
	perfect rat skeleton by Ngo Nwa's unheralded entry.  The desktop
	is bare except for and Arcane Vietnamese fighting knife, half a
	meter long with an ideogrammed blade, dramatically positioned
	beneath an Artemide lamp.  Lao rises and feigns servility.

	NB:  The following exchange will play FAST, and entirely in
	VIETNAMESE.

				LAO
		(formal greeting)

				NWA
		(dismissiveness, contempt, then
		chastizing anger as:)

	Nwa INDICATES the blade with some ridicule.

				LAO
		(phony assuagement)

				NWA
		(knows it's bullshit)

	Lao turns, staring out the blinds, fighting for control.  Deep
	breath.  He turns back to his "master."  Nwa gestures broadly at
	the oppulent office, indicating that Lao should be grateful, but 
	is somehow errant
	 
				NWA
		(respect is required)

				LAO
		(begrudging agreement)

	Lao sees the blade.  An idea.  He lifts it reverently, bears it
	the Nwa hilt-first in both hands, as if bestowing a thing of
	immeasurable worth.

				NGO NWA
		(why give me this?)

	Nonetheless, Nwa accepts the blade.  It gleams.  Hypnotic. Even
	Nwa has to admire it.  Turns it so the blade is pointed at his
	sternum.  His attitude indicates Lao is too far away to do
	anything untoward.

				LAO
		(sinister punchline)

	Lao spins through the air and HEEL-KICKS the blade THROUGH Nwa's
	chest, pinning him to the door.  It's over so fast the gasp of
	astonishment never escapes Nwa.  Lao is much more than merely 
	treacherous, he is extremely capable.

				LAO
			(in perfect English)
		When I spoke of an offering, I
		didn't mean an offering to you.

	INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)

	Grange, standing out of arm's reach in the corridor, kills both
	Bodyguards with a double headshot as they turn in greeting as the
	door OPENS.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - CORRIDOR - LAO, GRANGE, AND CORPSES

	Lao exchanges a look with his right arm; Grange nods
	affirmatively.

				GRANGE
		You gonna smoke his bones now, or
		however it is you do it?

	Lao smiles indulgently.  He wipes the blood from the blade on
	the jacket of his ex-lord.  Lao now bows to no one. 

	EXT. FIRE ESCAPE - ANOTHER ALLEY - NIGHT

	Eric, wearing the combat boots, climbs as the crow leads him.
	Up.  He jams his hand on a rusty wedge of metal.  Ouch.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

	Blood flows from the gash.  He vises his fist shut.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE

	Eye-to-eye with the crow.  Opens his hand.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

	The blood flows back into the wound, which closes itself, 
	leaving another scar.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	Vising the rail.  Speaks to the night.  Almost a mantra.

				ERIC
		"My kitten walks on velvet feet,
		and makes no sound at all.  And in
		the doorway nightly sits to watch
		the darkness fall.  I think
		he loves the lady night..."
			(to crow)
		Am I alive?  Am I dead?  Something
		else?  Something in between?

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	Inscrutable.  No answer here.

	RESUME ERIC

	Almost bemused.  Steadier.  A hint of friendliness.

				ERIC
		Thanks for sharing that.

	ETC. GIDEON`S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	As the T-Bird grumbles tp park curbside.  Menacing.

	INT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	A junkyard of loot and dusty discards.  Junkie thievings and
	other people's stereos.  Behind a wire-meshed security counter
	GIDEON reads a racing form, chain-smoking throughout the scene.  He
	is pear-shaped, stubbled, unkempt.  Food on his shirt.  JINGLE
	of doorbells.  Gideon lowers his paper to reveal Skank and
	T-Bird on approach.

				GIDEON
		Ahhh, jesus, the creatures of the 
		night, here they come.  Tweedledum
		and Tweedledummer.

	Skank riles

				SKANK
		Hey, blow me, fat boy!

	Just as quick, Gideon cocks and levels a Magnum at Skank.

				GIDEON
		Blow yourself, bigmouth.

				T-BIRD
			(interposing)
		Whoa, hey, whoa.
			(hands up)
		Business.

	He lifts a small carton onto the counter.

				GIDEON
		Whatcha got?

	NEW ANGLE - COUNTER

	Transaction time.  T-Bird passes items through the screen slot 
	and Gideon gives each one cursory, doubtful inspection.

				T-BIRD
		Coupla more rings... 24k.

				GIDEON
		18k.  Crap.

				T-BIRD
		...necklace... pearls...

				GIDEON
		Nineteen bucks at Sears.  Fake,

				T-BIRD
		Leather purse...

	He hands though the bag rested from the woman.

				GIDEON
		What's this -- a little, ah,
		bloodstain, right?
			(doesn't matter)
		Fifty bucks for the box, and I'm
		doin' you a --

				T-BIRD
		Yeah, I know, fatso.  Do us all a 
		favor.  Make Top Dollar smile.

				SKANK
		You wouldn't want Top Dollar not 
		to smile.

	Mention of Top Dollar clams Gideon efficiently up.  He hands
	over the cash to T-Bird with a grimace.

	EXT. ROOFTOP - ON ERIC - NIGHT

	Eric stares upward at the crow as it drops like a bomber from
	the night sky, flying past him, skimming the roof, leading him
	on.  Eric exhales, shrugs, feeling mocked by the bird.

				ERIC
		All right.

	And he takes off on a run.  Only to stumble and fall.  But the
	falls turns into a TUMBLING ROLL that lands Eric back on his feet
	still moving.  He looks back as if to ask: "Did I do that?" and
	runs out of the frame.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - PICKING UP ERIC ON THE RUN.

	as he squints towards the crow and does his best to keep up.
	TRACK WITH HIM to the edge of the roof, heavily misted in rain.

	He jumps a negligible gap to the next lower roof.  The next 
	roof-top is a one-story jump down.  Eric clears the jump with a
	WOOF of air.  Keeping his eyes on the flying crow; gaining
	strength.  His next leap is more like a broad-jump.  Athletic.

	FAST MOVING ANGLE - THE CROW

	keeping airborne, keeping ahead.

	MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

	Eyes confidently on the sky as he arches out into space...

	UP ANGLE FROM STREET - BUILDINGS

	As Eric is seen to jump across the gap at least three stories up
	where there is no connecting building.

	CLOSE ANGLE - TARGET BUILDING LEDGE

	as Eric smashes into it, just missing, hinging at the waist,
	grabbing for purchase, suddenly panicked, gravity pulling him 
	downward.

	ANGLE - AT ERIC FROM PHONE CABLE BRACKET

	Eric falls but manages to grab the bracket one-handed.  He hangs
	for another deadly moment, then slowly, to his own astonishment,
	executes a one-handed pull-up that will save his ass.
				ERIC
		Gotcha.

	He completes the pull-up, bringing his chin level with the 
	ledge.  As he reaches for it with his other hand the bracket
	rips from the wall and Eric plummets, with a howl of defeat.

	UP ANGLE FROM STREET - ERIC'S DOWNFALL

	It's a looooooong way down.

	ANGLE - ALLEYWAY

	as Eric lands and splits a trash can in two.  A beat as we wonder
	if any bones are left unpulped.  PUSH IN as Eric rolls from
	facedown to his back.

	TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S FACE

	as he completes the roll, gasping, amazed he's still in one 
	piece.

	ANGLE - TRASHCAN - ON THE CROW

	It flies easily down to inspect Eric as he slowly sits up,
	examining his hands.  Frustrated and pissed off.

				ERIC
		Thanks.

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	Not "your welcome", but other-worldly patience.  It waits.

	RESUME ERIC

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Where're we going next -- the
		sewer?

	EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT

	Still, dark silence until Eric lands from ABOVE FRAME, feline.
	The crow lands simultaneously b.g., perched near a roof access
	door with a shaded, dim-yellow bulb.

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	It just blinks at him. 

	INT. ABANDONED STAIRWELL - NIGHT

	as Eric yanks open the rusty rooftop door from the outside and
	sweeps down the steps in a swirl of night mist

	ANGLE - FOOT OF STAIRS

	Trash and detritus all around, clogging the arteries of the
	building, which is old, unoccupied, forsaken.  The crow lights
	on a scarred banister knob.  Eric's footsteps come down into frame.

	ANGLE ON LOFT DOOR - INCLUDE ERIC

	A year ago this door was sealed with police barricade tape...
	which now sags, faded.

	A sticker across the jam notifies potential trespassers that
	this is -- was -- a crime scene.  Eric slows, stops, his hand
	on the banister.

	ANGLE - THE CROW

	as is wafts ahead of Eric, arriving at the door first.

	ANGLE ON ERIC, THE DOOR, THE CROW

	Eric has had enough.

				ERIC
		Are we finished yet?

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND ON BANISTER
	sliding along, as he speaks, until it hits a cigarette burn.

	PUSH IN ON ERIC - TIGHT

	stiffening as he suffers his second --

	FLASH:  IMAGES and DIALOG are not linked.  A rapidfire MONTAGE set
	in the loft, a year earlier (it is decorated for Halloween).
	The broken door.  The stairwell is filled with cops and cop 
	noise; lab guys bustle.  Albrecht is there, making notes as a
	DETECTIVE steps over to him.

				ALBRECHT
		Victim's name is Shelly Webster.
		The guy who got tossed is, uh ...--
			(checks his notebook)

	Albrecht grinds out his smoke on the banister.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC ON THE STAIRS.

	He sits down hard, hurting from the flash.  His eyes seek the 
	crow.  He completes Albrecht's line:

				ERIC
		"Draven, Eric."

	EXT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	LOW DOLLY of Elly's little combat boots moving toward the
	entryway of the pit.  MUSIC gradually UP LOUDER O.s. as she
	nears.

	ANGLE - ELLY IN DOORWAY

	Luridly-lit.  A grown-up's place.  A burly BOUNCER appraises
	her, his tone jokey.  He knows Elly.

				BOUNCER
		Hey!  You got any ID?

				ELLY
		Very funny.  Ha.  Ha.  Oh my,
		sides.

	The Bouncer jerks a thumb.  Go on in. 

	INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	A grungy sawdust-floored shot-and-beer joint packed tight
	with urban BURNOUTS rushing to drink their lives away.  Hammering
	MUSIC and rude whorehouse lighting.  Each predator straining to
	be badder than the next.

	TRACK THROUGH this maze at Elly's eye level until we reach 
	DARLA, waitressing her heart out, the drug mileage on her 
	obvious.

				ELLY
		Mom --?

				DARLA
		I told you you're not supposed
		to come in here.

				ELLY
			(a quick lie)
		I lost my key.

	Disgustedly -- goddamn kids -- Darla fishes up a key and slaps
	it into Elly's hand.

				FUNBOY (O.S.)
		Hey, Darla -- before we die of old
		age, how about it --?

				DARLA
			(to Elly)
		Out.  Now.  I gotta work.

	RACK PAST Darla and MOVE IN CLOSE on a corner table -- where sit
	Funboy, Skank, T-Bird and a black, vested muscle gypsy, TIN-TIN. 

	INT. LOFT - NIGHT

	As Eric shoves the door open from the outside.  The lock, popped
	from the frame, spins on the wooden floor.  The barrier tape
	whisps and dust roils.  Dark, chilly, damp.  A rat's nest of
	disuse.

	PULL BACK THROUGH THE BROKEN PICTURE WINDOW

	as Eric enters.  Glass blown out.  Shards poking.  Jagged.

	NEW ANGLE - AS ERIC WALKS IN

	He scans the loft.  Sees reflecting golden eyes near the floor.

	ERIC'S POV - FLOOR NEAR WINDOW

	A white, long-haired cat walks into a pool of night light.

	ANGLE - ERIC AND THE CAT

	He kneels.  Extends his hand.  The cat nears; likes Eric.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND.

	as the cat makes contact.  Sudden white jolt - a FLASH.

	FLASH:  we HEAR Eric strumming his Strat o.s.  We see what he
	saw:  Shelly, holding the cat.

							FLASH ENDS.

	UP ANGLE - ERIC

	Wincing.  Recovering from the flash.  He purposefully gathers
	the cat into his arms and braces for more, harder, stronger...

	FLASH:  A MAN and a WOMAN make love on a big bed amidst a hundred
	points of candlelight.  Shelly and Eric, once upon a time.

							FLASH ENDS.

	REVERSE ANGLE FROM BEDROOM DOOR - ON ERIC

	as the cat, dropped, hits the floor and scrambles out of the way.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	vising his head, teary-eyed, his nose bleeding.

				ERIC
		No!  Don't look!  No! No!

	He whirls unexpectedly and punches his fist completely through
	the masonry wall.
	FLASH:  Eric and Shelly in a mock waltz.  He spins her and they
	collapse on the bed.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	slowly pulling his arm out of the wall.

				ERIC
			(whispering)
		Stop it.

	His eyes roll up and he slumps the length of the door frame like
	a drowning man.

	ANGLE - GABRIEL

	watching Eric.  He hits with an o.s. THUD.

	INT. THE PIT - ON FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

	As a gloved hand sets up four bullets next to four shots.

				FUNBOY (O.S.)
		Let's have some fun.

	Funboy pops the bullet, like a contact capsule and washes it down.
	T-Bird turns to Tin-Tin, the new guy.

				T-BIRD	You first.

				TIN-TIN
		You're outta your fuckin' mind.

	Into it, almost jazzed, Tin-Tin downs his bullet and shot, and
	T-Bird does likewise.  Points to Skank.

				T-BIRD
		No.  I'm not the lunatic.  He is.

	Skank riles, pulls a huge Auto Mag and sticks it in T-Bird's
	face, cocking.

				SKANK
		Fuck you, T-Bird.

	Just as lightning fast, T-Bird has his own gun out and jammed
	right under Skank's jawbone.  He makes a kissy face.

				T-BIRD
		I love you too, you madman.

	They all crack up laughing like ax murderers.  Skank drinks,
	Tin-Tin spot checks the satchell from Top Dollar's.  Darla
	delivers more shots and funboy feels her ass.

				FUNBOY
		Hey, pussycat.

	INT. LOFT - DOWN ANGLE (CROW POV) - ERIC ON FLOOR

	He's awake.  Pushes himself up.

	REVERSE ANGLE - THE CROW

	Is perched in a dead light fixture, monitoring Eric.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON FLOOR

	He's awake.  Pushes himself up.  Realizes he is in the center of a 
	faint chalk outline on the hardwood floor.  He reaches to touch
	the dark stain of old blood.

	FLASH:  Shelly spills into frame, mouth bloodied.  T-Bird
	instantly on top of her, rough.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - WITH ERIC

	as he abandons the outline and staggers to the window... where
	he cuts open his hand on jags of glass.

	FLASH:  Eric held firm in the grasp of T-Bird and Funboy, one
	arm each.  Five bloody bullet holes in Eric's chest.

	The thugs 1-2-3 and hurl Eric backwards through the window,
	which shatters.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - ERIC AT THE WINDOW

	Reeling backward, same trajectory as in the Flash, but toward
	the floor, in SLO-MO.  Overloaded.  Blacking out.

	AS ERIC FALLS - INTERCUT MONTAGE

	A jumble of good/bad images from the loft:  Tin-Tin embedding a
	page of paper in the loft wall with a throwing knife...
	Shelly's face as she lights a candle... a POPPING champagne
	cork... the echoing CANNONADE of the shots that killed Eric...
	Skank backhanding Shelly... Shelly blowing bubbles from a
	clawfoot tub full of suds... Eric catching Funboy's first slug 
	high in the chest... NEW ANGLE of the glass in the window
	blowing out as T-Bird and Funboy through Eric through...

	ANGLE - ERIC'S REAL TIME FALL

	He plummets to BLACK OUT FRAME.  THUMP.  Out cold.

	INT. PIT - RESUMING FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

	Funboy contemplates his drink as the previous scene reverbs.

				FUNBOY
		More fun than a torture chamber.

	Tin-Tin's pocket pager goes BEEP and startles them all.  Skank
	nearly shoots it, jumpy.  Tin-Tin pulls back on a black leather 
	trenchcoat after clicking off the pager.

				TIN-TIN
		I hate this goddamn thing...

	ANGLE - DARLA watching them from a distance as Tin exits.

	INT. LOFT - FLOOR LEVEL - NIGHT

	An enormous cockroach trundles past, large in FRAME.  RACK to
	show Eric lying on floor b.g. as his eyes pop open.  A flurry of
	dark motion as the crow flies past frame.

	ANGLE -- THE CROW -- Having snatched the bug in it's beak.  Eats
	it.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	rising from the floor.  Careful.  Stealthy.  Watches his fireplace.

				ERIC
		We have company.

	ANGLE ON FIREPLACE

	Huge.  Marble.  COld.  Eric's paper mache masks of Comedy and
	Tragedy still hang there.  The Skull Cowboy steps out of the
	dark and into the vague blue light.  Shadowy as ever.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Having fun yet?  No?
			(beat)
		I'll give you a hint.  Remember
		whatshername?

				ERIC
		Shelly?

				SKULL COWBOY
		Miss her?

				ERIC
		Yes.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Kill the men who killed you both,
		and the Day of the Dead will be
		your reunion.

	The Skull Cowboy prestidigitates a flat throwing knife(like Tin-
	Tin's).  Eric's gaze follow it closely.

				SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)
		You must use your eyes.

	He points to the crow.

	ANGLE - THE COMING KNIFE - ("CROWVISION")

	Weirdly distorted, a shared vision between Eric and the crow.

	TIGHT ON ERIC

	As he DUCKS out of the path of the knife he sees through the
	bird's eyes.  He rolls.

	ON THE CROW

	It hops out of the way as the knife embeds in the wall.  Eric's
	ROLL finishes him up nearby.

				ERIC
		Goddammit.

	He grabs for the knife as if to use it on the Skull Cowboy, but
	the knife causes an unexpected painful FLASH.

	FLASH:  Eric bouncing off the bedroom doorframe, Tin-Tin's knife
	stuck in his shoulder.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC

	vising his head with his hands, in pain.  Too much pain.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Get it?

				ERIC
		Leave me alone -- !

	He looks up, the Skull Cowboy is still there.

				SKULL COWBOY
			(contempt)
		Do something about it.
	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND THE SKULL COWBOY.

	A horrible beat between them.  The Eric runs full tilt across
	the room, bounding to the open window and then leaping.

	ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY

	as close to surprise as he gets.  Steps out to watch as --

	ANGLE ON WINDOW - ERIC

	FLIES feet first out into space.

	CLOSE-UP - BRICKWORK ABOVE WINDOWFRAME

	Eric's fingers smash into grip the tiny mortared gaps!

	EXT. LOFT BUILDING - UP ANGLE FROM STREET - NIGHT

	High above, Eric's feet shoot out the window, knocking loose
	stray shards that fall toward frame.  He swings into an upside-
	down pose, impossibly holding himself rigid against the
	building's side, face down. by his quarter-inch finger grip.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	Every muscle rigid, quivering with tension.  Hold.  Then he
	relaxes, and swings back inside.

	INT. LOFT - AT WINDOW, PICKING UP ERIC - NIGHT

	He arches, flips, to land on his feet.  The Skull Cowboy is
	gone.  No knife either.  The crow watches.  O.S. "meow".

	ANGLE - WITH ERIC AS HE TURNS TO SEE THE CAT

				ERIC
		I guess I'm not ready to leave...
		just yet.

	He picks up the cat -- wary of flashes, which don't come this
	time -- and returns to the window.  Feeling safer.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		The last time we saw each other,
		I didn't do so well.
			(holds cat up)
		Huh, Gabriel?

	He moves to the fireplace.  With his free hand, lifts the
	Tragedy mask off its hook.  Puzzles it, fact-to-mask.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I bet you need some cat food...
		right?

	EXT. STREET - NIGHT -ESTABLISHING:

	Eric walking, the Tragedy mask hanging from his hip.  An
	occasional PEDESTRIAN passes without comment, brutalized
	by the city.  Eric, more confident, smells the night's bouquet.

	EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT ("CROWVISION")

	Two men around a trashcan fire.  We should recognize Tin-Tin by 
	his black leather trench coat.  A wonderfully rude Rap tune, "Got
	a White WOman Tied Up In My Closet, Gonna Jab Her With A Stick,"
	RAZZLES b.g.

	EXT. STREET - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

	As Eric reacts to what the crow has just seen.  Slows.  Stops.
	And directs his attention toward the mouth of the alley.

	EXT. ALLEY - TIGHT ON TIN-TIN - NIGHT

	He pulls the nickel plated revolver from the satchel.  FOLLOW as
	he hands it across to RATSO, who removes the suitcase-sized boom 
	box (the source of the music) from his shoulder to accept.
	Ratso is a feral skull-head; street trash.

				TIN-TIN
		Three hundred and your a 
		gunslinger.

	HIGH ANGLE - TIN-TIN and RATSO

	As the crow is still watching, yet perched.  A brief
	shove-and-standoff.  The gun deal has gone bad.

				RATSO
		Please, TIn-Tin, you know I'm good
		for the money, man, I promise,
		Leslie put me up to it, please,
		man, don't --
			(choking scream)

	Tin-Tin has just up-rammed a throwing knife into Ratso.

				TIN-TIN
		Ratty -- shut the fuck up.

	Tin-Tin lifts Ratso on the knife, gutting him.  Ratso goes
	slack, deader'n hell.  Tin-Tin reaches around to click OFF 
	the boom box... then let's Ratso`s corpse fall.

				ERIC (O.S.)
		Another satisfied customer?

	TIGHT ANGLE - TIN-TIN

	galvanized by the surprise voice.  He automatically draw a
	fresh knife from the bandolero of knives across his chest inside
	the coat.  Can't yet track the source of the voice.

				TIN-TIN
		Who the hell is that?
			(beat, venomous)
		Come on out man, I won't hurt
		you.

	ANGLE - ERIC IN ALLEY

	He steps out from behind another flaming trashcan.  Wearing a 
	long black scarf and the Tragedy mask.

				ERIC
		Hello, Tin-Tin.

	ANGLE ON TIN-TIN - AS HE RISES (FROM RATSO)

	trying to process what he sees.  And cover.  And buy time.

				TIN-TIN
		Little early from trick-or-treat,
		homie.
			(re: Ratso)
		This dick trying to bushwack me.

				ERIC
		Murderer.

	Tin-Tin blows out a breath.  No bluff.  Time to kill again.

				TIN-TIN
		Guess you got that goddamn right.

	He shrugs.  The shrug becomes the launch of a knife.

	TIGHT SHOT - MOVING - ERIC

	His black-gloved hand slaps away the incoming knife and inch from
	his nose.  It CLATTERS.  Eric continues striding toward Tin-TIn.

				ERIC
		Try harder.  Try again.

	SHIFTING ANGLE - ERIC NEARS TIN-TIN

	as Tin-TIn throws another knife.  Eric closing in.  He claps
	hand together, immobilizing the next knife.  Opens his hands,
	almost an "oops" gesture.  Keeps on coming.

	ANGLE - ERIC AND TIN-TIN

	As they meet.  Tin-Tin attempts a roundhouse.  Eric blocks it
	and smashes Tin-Tin into the alley wall.

				ERIC
		A year ago.  Halloween.  A man
		and a woman.  In a loft.  You
		helped to murder them.

				TIN-TIN
		Last Halloween, eh?  Yeah...
			(beat)
		Yeah, I remember.  I fucked her
		too, I think.

				ERIC
		You cut her.  You raped her.
			(rage)
		You watched!

				TIN-TIN
		Hey, I got my rocks off, so
		fuck you in the ass, man.
		
	They're face-to-face now, sweaty and tense.  Eric peels off
	the Tragedy mask.

				ERIC
		I want you to tell me a story, Tin-Tin.

				TIN-TIN
		I don't know you...

	But, as Eric bears down on Tin-TIn, Tin begins to recognize him.
	Fear.  Sweat.

	For the first time, Tin-Tin starts to loose control.

				TIN-TIN (CONT'D)
		Holy shit... you're dead, man...

	EXTREME CLOSE-UP - ERIC

				ERIC
		Victims.  Aren't we all.

	INT. LOFT - NIGHT

	TIGHT ANGLE - TABLETOP

	as Eric's hands place Ratso's boom box on the table and click on 
	suitable weird b.g. MUSIC.

	ANGLE - FLOOR LEVEL

	Eric's boots pass frame.  An open can of cat food CLANKS down
	big in f.g.  as Eric walks b.g. obviously wearing Tin-Tin's 
	trenchcoat.  Gabriel noses into to frame to eat from the can.

	INT. LOFT, BEDROOM - NIGHT (LATER)

	Shelly's vanity.  Dusty, disused.  The mirror spiderwebbed with
	cracks but still hanging precariously in its frame.  Eric is 
	seated, his image crazily split into many.  He pulls on a long-
	sleeved, tight-knit, black shirt.

	WIDEN ANGLE to reveal the loft now lit with dozens of candle
	stubs.  Placed all around.  Ceremonial and weird.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

				ERIC
		Halloween is coming.  The Day of the Dead...

	In the mirror, multi Eric's.  He touches the glass, tightening up 
	as he realizes he's in for another --

	FLASH:  Shelly, sleeping on her divan, a year ago, wakes as Eric
	(O.S.) says "Boo".  She cracks an eye open.

				SHELLY
		Your scary quotient needs work.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AT VANITY

	Considering old cosmetics.  Everything he touches will hurt him.
	But he's ready to eat this pain.  He grabs a lipstick.

	FLASH:  Shelly at the vanity in happier times

				SHELLY
		I think red's my color, don't you?

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC

	wincing.  He drops the lipstick on the floor.  Grabs a
	hairbrush.

	FLASH:  Eric smashes into the street after his death-fall,
	trailing broken glass.

							FLASH ENDS.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC AT VANITY

	Later.  He's wearing white pancake makeup on his cheeks.  Shaky.

	FLASH:  Eric sucks up Funboy's gunshots in the chest.  1-2-3-4.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY

	his face a crazy warpaint maze of white streaks, not blended
	yet.  He looks at his own reflection.  In one cracked,
	triangular facet of the mirror is not a multiple of his face,
	but the Skull Cowboy.  Just one.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Glad to see you're finally with
		the program.

				ERIC
		Bugger off to the graveyard, skull-
		face, I'm busy.

				SKULL COWBOY
		You work for the dead.  Forget
		that, and you can forget it all.

	The Cowboy tips his hat and isn't there.  Eric sees the crow
	perched on the edge of the mirror now.

				ERIC
		Forget this.

	He smears the streaks until his face is uniformly grave-wave
	white.

	ANGLE - GABRIEL THE CAT

	coming in to sniff around the clutter at the foot of the vanity.
	Eric looks down towards him... and toward the lipstick he dropped.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND

	as it glides down to pick up the lipstick.  CONTACT, and --

	FLASH:  Eric, smashed on the street, T-Bird's car b.g., upside down
	in Eric's POV as he rolls over and blood courses from both
	corners of his mouth,  a definite foreshadow of the "Crow" face.

							FLASH ENDS.
	RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY - TIGHT

				ERIC
		She always red red was her color.

	EXTREME CLOSE - THE MIRROR

	We see only a reflected corner of Eric's mouth as he duplicates
	the blood trail in red lipstick, making one one half of a crow
	harlequin smile.

	EXT. LOFT BUILDING - LATER - NIGHT

	A MEDIUM SHOT as lightning strikes; a storm brews.

	EXT. LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S BOOTS

	crossing the floor.  Tin-Tin's knife slotted to the bucklework.

	CLOSE-UP - VANITY

	Eric's hands discard a hairbrush there.  He moves off.

	CLOSE-UP - GABRIEL

	looking up o.s., watching his master stalk around with purpose.
	Thunder rumbles long o.s.

	ANGLE - AT ERIC IN WINDOW FROM OUTSIDE

	The storm boils.  Eric framed in broken window.

	CLOSER ANGLE - ERIC IN WINDOW

	Eric all in black,  Firm-wrapped.  Tight-wired.  The trenchcoat
	flutters, cloak-like.  His shadowy face framed by the upturned
	collar, his hair punkish and spiky.

	SIDE ANGLE - ERIC

	as he moves forward in the light.  The crow lights on his shoulder.

				ERIC
		All right, bad guys...

	FRONT VIEW - ERIC

	Full crow regalia.  Face makeup streamlined.  Eric's eyes flash.

				ERIC
			(in drawn out yell)
		Here I commme -- !

	PULL BACK swiftly, vertiginously, as Eric swan dives from the
	window, his voice a howl.

	UP ANGLE FROM STREET - ERIC'S FALL

	Coat, wing-like.  MATCH his dive yell with o.s. crow SCREECH.
	SLOW MOTION as Eric fills the frame and we --

							DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. ALLEY - WHERE TIN-TIN GOT IT - NIGHT

	Cop lights bounce, competing with the trash fires.  Albrecht and
	several other UNIFORMS assess the double-death scene.  A
	detective, TORRES tries to appear in charge.

				TORRES
		Couldn't have happened to a nicer 
		couple.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND TORRES OVER DEAD TIN-TIN

	Tin-Tin frozen in deathshock, all of his knives sticking out of 
	him.  Dead Ratso, b.g., where he fell.

				ALBRECHT
		Sure it coulda.  Funboy's not
		here, neither is T-Bird -- none
		of Top Dollar's number ones.

				TORRES
		You know, you sure got a hard-on for
		a guy that's guilty of zip on
		paper.  Top Dollar runs Showtime;
		what's the matter, don't you like
		adult entertainment?

				ALBRECHT
		This sack of shit is called Tin-
		Tin.

				TORRES
		Don't any of your little pals have
		real, grown up names?

				ALBRECHT
		He was a runner for Top Dollar.
		Just muscle.

				TORRES
		Was.
				ALBRECHT
			(sigh)
		This isn't Top Dollar's style
		anyway.  This was somebody else.
		Somebody new.

	Albrecht lights a fresh smoke.  Torres waves the smoke away.

				TORRES
		And you're gonna tell me who.

				ALBRECHT
		Who ever made that.

	Albrecht points.  CAMERA FOLLOWS to wall behind Tin-Tin.  A crow
	silhouette has been daubed in blood there, now dry.

				TORRES
		What in the hell... do you
		call that?

				ALBRECHT
		I call it blood, Detective.  If
		you want, you can call it graffiti.

	INT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP of Gideon's thick fingers shuffling grimy currency.
	Some scratchy 1920's TUNE plays throughout b.g., like a broadcast
	from another time and place.

	TIGHTER ANGLE - GIDEON

	looking up at a metallic SOUND, o.s.  Irritated.

				GIDEON
		Piss off, we're closed.

	As the outside security gate rattles, Gideon draws his magnum
	and approaches the front door.

				GIDEON
		Fucking creatures of the night;
		they never goddamn learn.

	Sudden surprise as he sees the silhouette of the gate SCREE back
	against the frosted glass of the front door.

				GIDEON (CONT'D)
		HEY!!

	And he hustles to close up the distance between himself and the
	door, gun up.  Before he can touch the door, the crowbar comes
	rocketing through the glass, pegging Gideon in the forehead and 
	knocking him flat on his ass.  He loses the pistol.
	Eric walks through the door, causing the fractured glass to
	disintegrate around him.  He disclaims, thespian.

				ERIC
		"Suddenly I heard a tapping, as of
		someone gently rapping, rapping at
		my chamber door."
			(pause)
		You heard me rapping, right?

	LOW ANGLE - GIDEON ON THE FLOOR

	reacting to Eric's weird appearance and looking for his gun.

				GIDEON
		Oh, bullshit!  You're trespassing
		asshole, you're breakin'
		and enterin' and you just bought me a
		fucking door!

	During Gideon's rant, Eric brushes glass cubes from his
	shoulders, nonplussed.  Now he flings Gideon across the room.

	Gideon crashes into the counter cage.  As Eric advances on him:

				ERIC
		I'm looking for something in an
		engagement ring.  Gold.

	As Eric comes up behind him, Gideon reaches through the open
	cage door and pulls a big combat knife from beneath the counter.

				GIDEON
		You're looking for a coroner,shit-
		for-brains!

	And he tries to nail Eric with the knife.

	NEW ANGLE - BEHIND GIDEON - AS GIDEON SWINGS

	No Eric behind him.  TILT to reveal Eric hanging off the cage
	above Gideon.  Eric slams the cage door against Gideon's head.
	Drops down like a spider and collects the knife.

				ERIC
		I repeat: a gold engagement ring.
		It was pawned here, a year ago, by
		another gentleman whose name, I
		believe was... "T-Bird"?

	IN TIGHT ON ERIC AND GIDEON

	Eric twists Gideon's sail-like shirt and Gideon turns bright red.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Cute nickname, don't you think?

				GIDEON
			(gasping)
		I ain't got no fuckin' ring.

				ERIC
		Wrong answer.

	Eric nails Gideon's hand to the counter top.  Gideon howls!

				GIDEON
		All's I got is in a box!  Behind
		the counter!

	Eric jumps through the cage door.  Gideon's eyes bug as he sees 
	his own pierced hand, immobilized.

	ANGLE - ON ERIC BEHIND THE COUNTER

	scans the shelves.  Rows of boxed ammo.  Kerosene tins.  A shotgun.  
	Knives and assorted knuckle duster curios.  And the ring box.

	CLOSE-UP - THE RING BOX IN ERIC'S HAND.

	Dozens of gold rings.  Eric's fingers sift through them.

	TIGHTER ON ERIC

	He brings each ring to his face.  INTERCUT with Gideon's feeble
	struggles and invective, o.s.

				ERIC
		No... no... no... no...

	He tosses each rejected ring over his shoulder.  Until:

	CLOSE-UP - THE RING IN ERIC'S HAND

	Obliterated by a stab of brilliant white light --

	FLASH:  Shelly's face.  A perfect vision...

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUMING ERIC

	He closes his fist tightly around the ring.  A moment of
	decision.  Then he draws the shotgun from beneath the counter.
	Uses the butt to knock the knife free of Gideon's hand.  It goes
	spinning across the countertop.  Eric shucks the shotgun and
	rams it into Gideon's nose as the big man slumps to the floor.

				ERIC
		Tin-Tin confided in me, before he
		ran out of breath.  You have one
		chance to live.
				GIDEON
		No fucking way.  He'll kill me.

				ERIC
		Who would waste time killing you...
		besides me?

	Gideon sweats, pants, contemplates the hole in his hand.

				GIDEON
			(cowed)
		Top Dollar.

				ERIC
		Another jolly nickname?

				GIDEON
		You want those assholes, you want 
		Top Dollar.

				ERIC
		T-Bird?

				GIDEON
		Like the car.  He hangs out with
		Skank. that little ass-hair, and
		they hang at the Pit -- hell,
		Funboy lives there.  Ask Top
		Dollar.

				ERIC
		A whole club of pirates, with
		pirate names...

	Eric seems to go berserk, SMASHING and PUNCTURING cans of
	flammables and powder while Gideon flinches, nursing his holed
	hand.  Blows just miss Gideon's head.  Soon he's cowering.

	LOW ANGLE - ERIC

	Looking down at Gideon in revulsion.

				ERIC
		You feed off the living.

	SMASH!  as another tin ceases to exist next to Gideon.  Then
	Eric is gone, past him without further word, ignoring him
	entirely.  As he exits, shotgun shouldered, he pauses to admire
	a white Fender Strat hanging among the pawnables.  He reaches 
	for it.

	ON GIDEON

	As he summons some last minute budget bravery.

				GIDEON
		You walk outta here Top Dollar
		will erase your ass!  Top Dollar
		owns the fucking street here and
		you can't dick with me, you son of
		a bitch! 

	RESUME ERIC - FRAMED IN DOORWAY

	The guitar now bowslung across his back, the shotgun levelled at
	Gideon's position.

				ERIC
		One chance to live.  Take it.

	MOVE IN TIGHT ON GIDEON

	as he realizes what Eric means.  Hauls ass and bangs through the
	rear door with a bleat of terror.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC IN DOOR  

	as he cuts loose with the shotgun.

	EXT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

	as seen from across the street.  Eric silhouetted, unmoving as
	the whole store front blows hellaciously out around him, raining
	glass and debris.  Stirring his hair.  Eric is the black eye of
	the fireball.

	LOW ANGLE - FRONT OF PAWN SHOP - EMPHASIZE ERIC

	lit by flames and residual explosions.  He hurls the shotgun
	into the inferno.  Casually brushes flaming/smoking detritus
	from his own clothes.

				ALBRECHT (O.S.)
		Don't move! I said don't move.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC

	as he turns slowly, to see Albrecht, out of reach, gun drawn.
	Eric's attitude lightens; Albrecht is not the threat here.

				ERIC
		I thought the police always said
		"freeze:.

	Albrecht divides his attention, jumpy, between the odd sight of
	Eric (guitar on his back), and the raging instant inferno of
	Gideon's.

				ALBRECHT
		I'm the police and I say don't
		move, Snow White.  You're under
		arrest; I don't care what else is 
		wrong with you!  You move and
		you're dead.

	Eric has begun to pace towards Albrecht.  Palms up.  A gesture of
	submission.  Albrecht's battle calm begins to waiver.

				ERIC
		And I say I'm dead... and I move.

				ALBRECHT
		No further.  I'm serious.

	Eric bows, bringing his forehead in line with the gun's muzzle.

				ERIC
		Then shoot, if you will.

	TIGHT ANGLE - ALBRECHT

	He gives it up.  Can't shoot.  This is too weird for him.

				ALBRECHT
		Are you nuts, walking into a gun?

	NEW ANGLE - LESS THREATENING - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

				ERIC
		You must listen carefully:  the 
		Fire Department will be here soon.
		There is an injured man in the 
		alley who needs assistance.
			(meaningfully)
		As Shelly Webster once needed your 
		assistance, and as you are shortly 
		going to need my assistance.

	Albrecht gestures casually, almost comically, with his pointed
	gun.  B.g., the crow lands on a fire escape to monitor them.

				ALBRECHT
		You wanna run that back for me one
		time?

	SIRENS near, o.s.  Eric listens to them, to the night.

				ERIC
		Listen:  Top Dollar.  He "owns the
		street here."  He will "erase
		my ass."

				ALBRECHT
		You don't say.

				ERIC
		I know Top Dollar has turned your 
		streets into his hell.

				ALBRECHT
		Fucking A, my friend.

				ERIC
		The others are called Skank, T-
		Bird.  Street names.  Funboy.
			(beat)
		Watch me, office Albrecht.

	Eric lifts a chunk of glass from the sidewalk.  Slow and easy.
	Albrecht doesn't completely trust him.  Up comes the gun.

				ALBRECHT
		Watch it...

	Eric slices open his palm.  Blood flows.  To his fingertips.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

	as Eric quickly daubs a crow silhouette in blood on the wall...
	then exhibits the gashed hand to Albrecht.

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND

	as the blood retreats and the wound seals itself up.

	TIGHT ON ALBRECHT

	and the silhouette.  Mouth hangs.

				ALBRECHT
		You're the one who did Tin-Tin...

	PULL BACK FAST to reveal Eric is gone from the frame.  Albrecht does
	a quick 180.  No Eric.  Flashbars from incoming units begin
	to bounce red and blue off his face.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Great.  Good night.  Guy shows up
		looking like a mime from hell.
			(beat)
		Least he didn't do that "walking
		against the wind" shit;  I hate
		that.

	EXT. SHOWTIME - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH.

	A night-owl pornucopia.  T-Bird enters beneath a garish theater
	marquee.  The 2-bill:  RUMP ROMP with BUTTBUSTERS II.

	INT. SHOWTIME LOBBY - NIGHT

	T-Bird approaches the snack bar.  Wet, breathy mating NOISES
	from the auditorium throughout, o.s.  Looking supremely bored,
	the counterman, DICKEY BIRD, thumbs a porn tabloid.  So what.

				DICKEY BIRD
		T-Bird.  Thrill me.

				T-BIRD
		Business.

	T-bird heads left through s steal door that Dickie buzzes
	open for him.

	INT.  SHOWTIME AUDITORIUM (BACKSTAGE) - NIGHT

	T-Bird walks past dust-covered boxy black speakers as we glimpse
	Lance and Angelique making history in reverse, on the back of the 
	movie screen: oratoria as good as porn films can make it.

				PORN QUEEN (O.S.)
		I don't know how to describe how
		I feel, Lance -- so restless --

				PORN KING (O.S.)
		You're my Moon Queen, Angelique.

				PORN QUEEN (o.S.)
		Oooh -- I want you're rocket right
		now in my Sea of Tranquility -- 
		Lance --

	ANGLE - CATWALK STAIRS

	As T-Bird approaches, the movie sounds dwindle o.s.  He ascends
	the skinny metal stairway two steps at a time.

	ANGLE - STEEL FACED DOOR AT TOP OF STAIRS.

	As T-Bird nears it, a viewplate SNAPS open to asses him.  By
	the time he reaches the top, the door unbolts to admit him.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	As T-Bird enters.  The room is organized around a long meeting
	table and flavored with a taste of everything illegal:  drug
	paraphernalia, weapons.

	Across the table are a couple of Sentries like the one that
	admits T-Bird to the room.  TRACK PAST them to a lank-haired
	silhouette as he turns away from a windowshade, backlit by
	Showtime's exterior neon.

	This is TOP DOLLAR.  Who looks like a Johnny Winter acid 
	casualty but is deadly cold, definitely the man in charge.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Wild fucking night.  I hear our
		pal Tin-Tin got himself very dead.

				T-BIRD
		And Gideon's just burned all the
		down to the foundation.

	Top's eyebrows go up.  Oh really?

				T-BIRD (CONT'D) 
		I didn't have nothin to do with
		that.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Bet that pisses you off, right?

				T-BIRD
		Top, what the fuck is going on
		tonight?

				TOP DOLLAR
		Stay normal, T.  Cops'll be all
		hotwired and aggressive.  No
		combat moves until I check this
		out.

	EXT. STREET - NIGHT - (~CROWVISION") HIGH ANGLE

	Taking in the street, the Pit, and a little girl seated on an
	abandoned car.

	ANGLE - STREET LEVEL - ON ELLY.

	Seated on the looted wheelless car, playing with a small doll.

	CLOSER ANGLE - ON ELLY

	She doesn't notice someone is watching her yet.

	TIGHT ON DOLL, THEN ELLY

	She looks up o.s. at Eric, who is still out of the frame.

				ELLY
		What are you supposed to be?  A clown?

	CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	He smiles for what seems to be the first time.  Warm, even past
	his crow makeup.

				ERIC
		Sometimes.

	He glances back and logs the location of the Pit for later, not
	in a big hurry just now.  Turns back to Elly.

	WIDE ANGLE - ERIC AND ELLY

				ELLY
		You look like a rock star without a
		job.

				ERIC
		I dabble.  May I?

	He indicates the car hood, a "seat" next to Elly from which he
	may observe the Pit.

				ELLY
		If you're not some kinda child 
		molester.

	Eric looks behind himself.  Who, me?  Genuinely amused.  He 
	shakes his head no and sits down next to Elly. 

	INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

	The music POUNDS and smoke is everywhere, like incense.
	INTERCUTS of the clientele, retro, robotic, clove cigarettes and
	rubber clothing; fetish casual wear.

	ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

	right in the center of the noise, looking downscale and dirty
	in this milieu.

	ANGLE - ANOTHER CUSTOMER

	Passing Top, appraising him, finding him as boring as life
	itself.  Undertaker chic, she stares at Top.

				TOP DOLLAR
		I thought Halloween was tomorrow
		night.

	An Oriental bodyguard passes him in f.g., motioning to follow.

	INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

	Lao watches club activity on his flybank of TVs.  When Top
	Dollar shows up at the office door two Sentries try to bar his 
	passage.  He shoves through.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Get outta my way, you mooks.

	Lao's demeanor indicates that they should not kill Top.

				LAO
		An unexpected pleasure.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Bad news.  Alot of action on the
		streets tonight, and nobody
		bothered to clear it with me.  Tin-
		Tin got himself whacked.

				LAO
		Who got himself what?

				TOP DOLLAR
		One of mine.  And it wasn't a 
		standard hit.

				LAO
		I had heard something like this.
			(beat)
		Describe it for me.  The "hit".

				TOP DOLLAR
		I was wondering if you could tell
		me anything... about a wildcat
		operative.

				LAO
		I know of no one.
			(beat)
		But even if there is, I am sure it
		is nothing outside your capacity 
		to deal with?

				TOP DOLLAR
		Anybody violates my turf -- our 
		turf -- I'll rip out there heart 
		and show it to 'em.

				LAO
		To be sure.  Now tell how your 
		friend died.

	INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

	ANNABELLA, a comfortable large, spider-in-the-web deskworker,
	sits typing at a terminal.  Miked headphone in one ear, police
	scanner chatter o.s.  She blows and pops a pink bubble of gum.

				ALBRECHT (O.S.)
		Annie?

	ANGLE - ANNABELLA AND ALBRECHT

	Albrecht enters frame from across her countertop.

				ANNABELLA
		Whatever it is, the answer's no,
		Eddie.  I'm too busy tonight.

				ALBRECHT
		Annie, I need a file.

	There is a desperate edge to Albrecht's voice.

				ANNABELLA
		Speak up.
			(beat; her guard up)
		Clear it with the Captain if you
		need a file.

				ALBRECHT
		This is special, darlin'.  Please?

	Annabella eyes Albrecht doubtfully.  Fatalistic sigh.

				ANNABELLA
		Just don't tell me you "owe me
		one."  What file?

				ALBRECHT
		Double homicide.  A year ago.
		Las Halloween.

	EXT. STREET NEAR THE PIT - ERIC AND ELLY - NIGHT

	Still hanging by the car, a bit more familiar with each other
	now.  A low-slung mirror-windowed LIMOUSINE hisses past them and
	curbs across the street from the Pit.

				ELLY
		My mom works over there.  I'm
		waiting for her, but she's
		probably with him, right now.

				ERIC
		Who?
				
				ELLY
		Mister Funboy.

				ERIC
		Mister Funboy lives there?

	TWO SHOT - ELLY AND ERIC - (PIT B.G.)

				ELLY
		He has a room, upstairs.  I don't
		like him very much.

	Elly is not happy about this.  B.G. we see Grange get out of the 
	car, heading to the Pit, and notice in passing a guy with the
	white face talking to the little girl down on the block.

				ELLY (CONT'D)
		Can you play that thing or do you
		just carry it around everywhere?

	Elly indicates the guitar strapped to Eric' back.

				ERIC
		I can pick out a tune now 
		and again.

				ELLY
		Can you play "Teddy Bears' Picnic?"
			(re: doll)
		It used to be her favorite.

				ERIC
		Does she have a name?

				ELLY
		No name.  You sure ask a lot of
		questions.

	Elly HANDS the doll to Eric and he experiences a wholly 
	unexpected flash.

	FLASH:  Elly and SHelly sitting as SHelly's vanity, goofing with
	makeup, test-driving lipstick, the doll visible on the vanity.

							FLASH ENDS.

	RESUME ERIC - AS THE DOLL DROPS FROM HIS HAND

	Pain is trying to fight it's way out of Eric in surges. 

				ELLY (OS)
			(smart alec)
		Hel-lo?  Earth to anybody...?

	Eric snaps out of it.  Elly retrieves the doll.

				ELLY (CONT'D)
		Do you feel okay.

				ERIC
		No.

				ELLY
		You gotta go now, I bet.

				ERIC
		I have to go.

	Half-zomboid, half-determined, he exits.

	INT. PIT - NIGHT - WITH GRANGE

	As he circulates to the bar, unimpressed.  To the bouncer:

				GRANGE
		Top Dollar?

				BOUNCE
		Never heard of him.

				GRANGE
		Funboy?

				BOUNCER
		Oh, prob'ly upstairs bangin'
		Darla.  Pay for your own beer and
		they'll prob'ly be down before you 
		can drink it.

	INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - OFFICE - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP of an 8x10 of the loft slaughter in Albrecht's hands.
	Subject: a document pinned to the wall with a knife.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT DESK.

	flipping through the file. Smoking.

	ANGLE - THE 8X10 IN ALBRECHT'S HAND

	Subject: Eric, dead in the street in front of the loft 
	building.  The blood on his face reminiscent of his crow face.

	As Albrecht's hand moves the photo we can see in the file
	several band shots of Eric as a member of Diabolique... 
	including the shot on Lao's wall gallery of past performers at
	Club Trash.

	A DOUGHUT on a paper plate suddenly touches down in the middle
	of all this research, startling Albrecht.

	ANGLE - ANNABELLA BEHIND HIM

				ANNABELLA
		Don't thank me.  Your ass is
		already in enough trouble for this shit.

				ALBRECHT
		I knew that.

	Albrecht holds a typewritten page closer to the the light.

	CLOSE-UP DOCUMENT, torn by the knife hole made by Tin-Tin.

	It reads:  We, the Undersigned tenants of 1929 Calderone Court
	Apartments...

				ALBRECHT
		Another nice white girl with a
		cause.  Like a big KICK ME sign.

	Albrecht takes up and 8x10 of Eric's face.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Shelly Webster.  And her nice 
		white boyfriend, Eric Draven.

	With a felt-tip pen he superimposes the crow smile, like the make-
	up, like the blood.

				ANNABELLA
		Your last little wild goose chase
		got you busted back to the Beat 
		Patrol, just like in a bad
		detective story, Eddie. Are we
		doing the wildgoose thing again?

	UNDER THIS Albrecht sketches in Eric's spiky Crow hairdo.

				ALBRECHT
		Could be.

				ANNABELLA
		You gonna wind up working at a school
		crosswalk.   that doughnut's 
		chocolate you, know.

	PUSH IN on the doctored photo.  It's Eric.  It's the Crow.

	PUSH IN on ALbrecht.

				ALBRECHT
		Well, hello there...chocolate,

				ANNABELLA
		Don't thank me.

				ALBRECHT
		Thanks, babe.

	INT. THE PIT (REAR) - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

	Climbing.  The crow perched on his shoulder.  Not in a hurry.

				ERIC
		It's a Raymond Chandler evening
		And the pavements are all wet, And
		I'm lurking in the shadows, for it 
		hasn't happened ...

	TIGHT CLOSE-UP - ERIC

	Impish.  Clown killer.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		... yet.

	INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	Grange at a table.  SMoking and waiting.  No beer.  His back
	protected, he is stationed near the fire stair door and has a
	good overview of the room.

	INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

	CLOSE-UP of a base pipe being lit and hit hard.

	EXT. THE PIT (REAR) - FIRE ESCAPE - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

	Eric's gloved hand slides sinuously up rusted railing.

	INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

	A hypodermic needle rises into frame.  A nicotined fingernail
	flicks bubbles in the syringe.  FOLLOW needle down and BROADEN
	ANGLE: Funboy taps up a vein in Darla's arm and shoots her up.
	Both are naked in a shabby bed.  Bare lightbulb above.

				DARLA
		Ooh, baby -- gimme all of it.

	CLOSE-UP - THE NEEDLE

	As the plunger depresses.

	ANGLE - ON THE WINDOW

	As the crow quite unexpectedly arrives and perches on the sill,
	scaring the shit out of our two dopey friends.  Funboy pulls a
	giant auto pistol; mock aims, calms down, doesn't fire.

				DARLA
		It's a big fucking bird...

	She falls back against her pillow, eyes dreamily defocusing.
	Funboy giggles.  Relaxes the gun, which half-disappears into the 
	sheets at his side.

				FUNBOY
		It's a squab.  Here bird, Here,
		birdie...

	NEW ANGLE - DARLA AND FUNBOY

	Except that Eric now stands near their bed, across from the 
	bird's position, the guitar bowslung.

				ERIC
		Here Funboy.

	Contained panic as Funboy and Darla both startle.  The needle 
	flies and lands at Eric's feet.  Empty.  Funboy struggles to
	maintain against his high.

				FUNBOY
		Oh wow, oh wow, don't fucking do
		that, man.  I nearly had a fucking
		heart attack.

				DARLA
		Fun -- look at that guy...

				FUNBOY
		It's just the dope, don't worry

				DARLA
		Fun, he's not going away; he's 
		scaring the piss outta me!

				FUNBOY
		Not me.

	Funboy draws the gun from underneath the sheers.  Suddenly he seems
	totally focused.

				FUNBOY (CONT'D)
		Time for you to take your bird and 
		leave, freako.

	Eric rips open his shirtfront to reveal a circlet of bullet
	punctures.  This gives Funboy pause.
				ERIC
		Take your shot funboy.  You got 
		me, dead bang.

	Funboy tilts the gun off target.  Grins as Eric flat handedly
	past his chest, indicating where to shoot.

				FUNBOY
		You are seriously fucked up, man.
		Just look at yourself.

	In a blur, he sighs, and shoots Eric through the heart.

				FUNBOY (CONT'D)
		BANG!  He shoots, he scores!

	Then his expression drags a little bit.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	Looking down and daubing his hand in the bullet wound on his chest.

				ERIC
		Bull's eye.  Good shot.

	ANGLE - DARLA

	who starts scrambling to get out.  Grabbing clothes on the floor
	around herself. she runs right into Eric's outstretched hands.

				ERIC
		Stay.

	Eric twists her arm.

	CLOSE-UP - DARLA'S FOREARM.

	where we may clearly see the needle tracks.  

	UP ANGLE - ERIC 

				ERIC
		Morphine is bad for you.

	He holds her arm captive.  Tight, and we PUSH IN CLOSER to see
	the dope evacuating from the punctures, a reverse of Eric's,
	Blood trail.  The dope drips from Darla's arm to the floor.
	Darla's eyes roll up into the unconscious.  She slumps.

	ANGLE - ON FUNBOY - GAWPING

				FUNBOY
		How the hell did you do that?
		
				ERIC
		Magic.

	Funboy regards Eric's battlescars and guitar.

				FUNBOY
		Either die or do a solo.

	Eric looks briefly to his chest wound, wincing.  He can't seem
	to make it tie off fast enough.  He turns his attention back to
	Funboy.  But his strength is mysteriously ebbing.

				ERIC
		Neither.

				FUNBOY
		Yeah, I got a more fun idea myself.

	Funboy lashes out and broadsides Eric across the temple with the
	gun.  Eric falls, rolls back to a stance, but Funboy is right on
	top of him, howling like a lunatic and pistol-whipping Eric
	relentlessly.

				FUNBOY
		I hate trespassers!
			(whack!)
		I hate prowlers!
			(whack!)
		I hate peeping toms!
			(whack!)
		And right now I hate you!

	ANGLE - WALL NEAR BATHROOM

	as Eric, caught off-guard by Funboy's hyper high and weakened by
	his wound, comes slamming into the wall, losing his footing.
	Here comes Funboy, and we TILT UP from Eric's position as he 
	looms, cocking the pistol, which now has Eric's blood on it.

				FUNBOY
		Ahh, the hell with it, I still got
		five shots left.

	In a blur, Eric grabs Funboy`s gun hand.  Twists to the 
	crunching of bones.  Funboy's skewed-around gun hand blows a
	hole in his own thigh.  Funboy fall back across the bed.

				FUNBOY
		Owwwaaaa -- fuck me!  Look what
		you did to my sheets, you lame
		piece'a shit!  AAAAaa!  Goddd!

				ERIC
		Does it hurt?

				FUNBOY
		Does it hurt?!  You dead-ass,
		clown-faced fuck, of course it
		fucking hurts!  What the shit are
		you gonna do about this?!

	Eric sits on the bed next to Funboy; inspects the ampule of
	morphine on the nightstand, the needle of the syringe already 
	inserted.

				ERIC
		I have some pain killer right here.

	And he fills the syringe all the way.

	ANGLE ON FUNBOY

	as he begins to see the light.  He can't get away.  Growing
	terror.

				FUNBOY
		No, wait, no WAIT, that's too
		much, man, that's like overkill,
		nobody can take that much, you're
		wasting it -- !

				ERIC
		Your pain ends now.

	And Eric rams the needle into Funboy's heart, driving home
	the full dose.  Funboy begins to convulse.

	Eric falls back on the bed, his force spent.  Darla COMES TO in
	the corner, shock-traumatized.  On O.S. COUGH, and Eric opens
	his eyes.

	The Skull Cowboy, standing in the room, tips his hat.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Howdy
			(beat)
		You look a mess.  Like an ole
		cooter dog.

	TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S FACE

	streaked with -- mostly -- his own blood.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - THE SKULL COWBOY AND ERIC

				SKULL COWBOY
		Getting a little ambitious and
		extracurricular, aren't we?

				ERIC
		Go away.

				SKULL COWBOY
		You need to learn to mind your own
		business or you'll never get where
		you think you're going.

				ERIC
		Shut up.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Maybe I was wrong about you.

	The Skull Cowboy seems saddened or disappointed.  All we get is
	a little shake of his skull-head.

	Darla makes a SOUND and Eric turns toward her.  She's really
	confused.  She's looking to Eric for some kind of answer.

				ERIC
		Your daughter is out there, on the
		street, waiting for you.

	She's stunned, utterly speechless.  All she can do is look in
	Eric's eyes, try to ponder the phantoms there.

				ERIC
		Go.  Now.

	Darla shoves helter-skelter past Eric and out the door without 
	a glance back at Funboy.

	Eric, recovering, follows slowly, staring at the open door,
	stooping to lift the guitar dropped during the fight with 
	Funboy.  The Skull Cowboy has vanished.  PUSH IN.  Grimly, Eric
	takes a syringe and begins to draw blood from the late Funboy.

	INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

	As a hastily dressed Darla BANGS out through the fire stair door
	behind Grange and FLEES the Pit.

				BOUNCER
		Hey, g'night, Darla.
			(to Grange)
		That there is Darla.

				GRANGE
		Funboy?

	Bartender indicates UP with his thumb.  Grange moves to the fire
	stairs door.

	INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

	Grange has seen the door ajar and now ENTERS gun-first.  Freezes
	when he sees:

	GRANGE POV - FUNBOY

	Half-sheeted, bloody, a hypo hanging out of his heart.

	RESUME GRANGE

	Eyes darting, drawn to --

	GRANGE'S POV - THE WALL NEAR FUNBOY

	A crow silhouette spray-painted with a syringe of Funboy's
	blood.  A thin outline, drippy.

	RESUME GRANGE

	whirling with his gun to bring it to bear on --

	ANGLE - GRANGE SEES THE WINDOW

	The crow is no longer in the room.  Eric is perched on the sill,
	guitar and all, looking right at Grange as if waiting from him.
	He winks, holds a finger to his lips -- sshh --and jumps out
	into the night.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - GRANGE

	He almost fires, but doesn't.  We see instead the priceless
	expression on his face as we --

							CUT TO:

	INT. PRECINCT FOYER - NIGHT

	Albrecht lights another smoke, quitting for the night.  Waves to
	the late-working Annabella en route.

	EXT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

	Albrecht hasn't gone three steps before Eric appears behind him,
	cat silent, matching pace.

	NB:  Eric has got a new black rock-n-roll shirt on... and a
	shell casing from Funboy's gun tied in his hair.

				ERIC
		Freeze.

	Albrecht startles; drops his file.  Nearly draws his gun.

				ALBRECHT
		Jeezus!  Don't ever do that, man!

	Albrecht pants, hysterical but calming down.  Eric waits.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		I told you cops don't say
		"freeze".

	He retrieves Eric's doctored photo from the spill of papers.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		You, my friend, are dead.  I saw
		your body.  You got buried.

				ERIC
		I saw it, too.

	Albrecht gathers up the file.  Eric stands there.  We realize he
	is hesitant about touching the file.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Walk with me.

	As Albrecht comes up with the file as they walk.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT ON THE STREET

				ALBRECHT
		You died, man.  I can't believe it
		but here you are.  Last year,
		you and your girlfriend --

				ERIC
		I need you to tell me what you
		remember.  What happened to us?

				ALBRECHT
		You went out the window.  She was
		beaten and raped.  She died in the 
		hospital.

	They stop.  Eric didn't know this.  Fixes Albrecht with a look.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Hey, you asked, man.
			(beat)
		She held on for thirty hours in 
		intensive care.  Hemorrhage,
		trauma.  He body just finally
		gave it up.
			(beat; regret)
		I saw it and couldn't do jack for 
		her.

	Eric has grown increasingly distraught over Albrecht's lines.
	Now he turns to Albrecht and, holding Albrecht's temples with
	his fingers, puts his thumbs over Albrecht's eyes.

	TIGHT ON ERIC - ALBRECHT AGAINST WALL

	We see Eric react to a brutal Flash... but we don't see the 
	Flash.

	NEW ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

	And Eric tears from Albrecht; staggers back, now holding his own
	head.  His crow face slacked in realized horror.

				ALBRECHT
		You okay, man?  I mean, what just
		happened.

				ERIC
		The venom of bad memories.  You
		were there; you saw her.  I saw
		you seeing her.

	Understandable nervous, Albrecht lights up a cigarette.

				ALBRECHT
		You gotta understand -- I was 
		hoping she'd talk, give me a lead,
		a clue, something to work with.
		But she only said one thing to me 
		before she died.

	Eric lowers his head, penitent.

				ERIC
		My name.

				ALBRECHT
			(fizzles)
		I'm sorry as hell, man.

				ERIC
		Thirty hours.  A day of life, plus
		change...

	TIGHT TWO-SHOT - ALBRECHT AND ERIC

	Eric plucks the cigarette from Albrecht's lips, taking a single
	contemplative puff from it.

				ERIC
		Halloween is coming, soon.  You
		will have Top Dollar if you watch
		for me at the Showtime, tomorrow night.

				ALBRECHT
		I should be trying to stop you.

	Eric nods, keeping his eyes on the cigarette.

				ERIC
		Thank you.  For giving a damn.

				ALBRECHT
		My pleasure.
				ERIC
		Don't smoke these.

	As a bus grumbles past on the street, Eric pitches the butt and 
	simultaneously ducks out of frame.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT TURNS

	to see a blank building wall.  Fire escape.  Darkness.  No Eric.
	He does a full 360 degree turn.  Eric is gone again.

				ALBRECHT
		Damn, I wish he wouldn't do that.

	MOVING ANGLE - FROM BUS ROOF

	Coat flapping, Eric is standing on the bus roof as the bus moves
	away from Albrecht's position.

	INT. LAO NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

	Lao has the partially disassembled rat skeleton in front of him, 
	as well as a mortar and pestle with some bits of crushed bone, and
	is smoking powdered rat bone in a pipe and Grange reports to
	him.

				GRANGE
		The son of a bitch winked at me.
		The he jumped.  Three stories.

	Lao seems strangely unaffected by the bizarre nature of Grange's
	tale.

				LAO
		Did you see an animal of any kind?
		Did you see a bird?

				GRANGE
			(puzzled)
		No.  I saw a guitar.
			(beat; irritated)
		This isn't some rock-n-roller
		you forgot to pay, is it?
			(beat)
		There was a drawing on the wall 
		that looked like a bird.  In 
		blood.

	Lao's expression is one of sublime content.

				LAO
		Good.

				Grange
		It could've been a chicken...

	EXT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT - ("CROWVISION")

	A LONG SHOT of the T-Bird parked across the street from the
	store as two figures -- T-Bird and Skank -- approach on the
	store side.

				SKANK
		I wish to hell I had torched
		Gideon's, that fat fuck.

				T-BIRD
		I wish to hell I knew who it was
		that made Tin-Tin into a voodoo
		doll last night.

	ANGLE - CLOSER ON T-BIRD AND SKANK - STREET LEVEL

	They stop walking.  Look at each other and sanctimoniously cross 
	themselves.  Tin-Tin's big R.I.P. moment.  T-Bird indicates the
	liquor store.

				T-BIRD
		We need some smokes and some road
		beers.

				SKANK
		Got it.

	Skank hustles toward the store.  T-Bird crosses to the car.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD - THROUGH CAR WINDOWS

	WIDEN ANGLE to include the car as he nears it.  Behind him, two
	12-year-old KIDS, AXEL and CHOPPER, enter the store after Skank,
	one wearing a long duster.

	INT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT

	as the KIDS enter and split between the counter and magazine
	rack.  East Indian CLERK.  Two boys fight video game wars in the
	corner.  Skank browses, grabbing odds and ends.

	EXT. STREET / INT. CAR - LOWER ANGLE - NIGHT

	as T-Bird climbs in, digs the last cigarette from his pack, 
	snaps his Zippo and in the sudden orange light, sees:

	INSERT - REARVIEW MIRROR

	Eric's purloined Strat in the back sear reflecting the light.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD

	He tries to spin and draw his gun but Eric is upon him, nestling
	one of Tin-Tin's throwing knives right inside T-Bird's ear.
		
				T-BIRD
		What the fuck are you supposed to
		be, man?!

	INSERTS:  Eric liberates T-Bird's automatic from the shoulder 
	holster; Eric's hand closes T-Bird's door for him.

				ERIC
		I'm your passenger.  You drive.
		And stop talking.

	TIGHT ANGLE - T-BIRD'S HANDS

	on ignition key and gearshift, making ready.  As ordered.

	INT. LIQUOR STORE - ON SKANK AT COUNTER - NIGHT

	He looks outside and sees Eric as the car fires up, pipes and
	glasspacks grumbling.  Skank moves, BRISTLING.

				SKANK
		What's all this happy horseshit?

	And the car peels out maniacally!  Skank tries to pursue -- but
	the two KIDS draw weapons and freeze everyone in the store.

				AXEL
		Alright, alright, alright --
		everybody be cool and stay exactly
		where you are.

	Chopper hustles up to the counter and relieves Skank of a 
	gigantic Auto Mag.

				CHOPPER
		Whooooa, cowboy!  Cool gun.

	Off Skank's look of total outfoxed disgust.--

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING FAST - NIGHT

	Vertiginous windshield POV of onrushing street, highspeed.

				ERIC (O.S.)
		Faster, T-Bird.  Faster.  You're
		a hell of a wheelman; you know you
		can drive faster.

	ANGLE - ERIC AND T-BIRD

	Eric now holds T-Bird's own gun on him.  Eyes locked on T-Bird.
	T-Bird's jump between Eric's nightmare visage and the roadway.

				T-BIRD
		You call it, blood -- you got the
		gun. You just tell me where you want
		to go.

	Clearly T-Bird would relish bisecting Eric with a meat cleaver 
	as he says this.  He's nervous and needs to hold the road.

				ERIC
		That's good.  We're going 
		someplace you've never been
		before.

	EXT. STREET - HIGH ANGLE ON T-BIRD - NIGHT

	as the car burns up the obstacle course of pavement, kicking  
	wake of litter.  PEDESTRIANS scurry to clear the way.

	INT. POLICE CRUISER - NIGHT

	Parked in an alley, facing the street.  Two cops work on large
	styro cups of steaming coffee.  MJ (driver) and SPEEG.

				MJ
		Smells like rain.

				SPEEG
		Smells like a septic tank.  You
		got that cream stuff?

				MJ
		In the bag.

	Speeg rummages inside the takeout bag.

				SPEEG   
		I hate this cream stuff.  They
		can't even call it cream, legally.

	They snap to as the T-Bird blazes past, doing ninety.

				MJ
		What in the crap?

	MJ floors the pedal, drenching Speeg in coffee on takeoff.

				SPEEG
		Ow! Owowoowowoowo, goddammit!

	EXT. STREET - ON ALLEY - NIGHT

	as the cruiser roars out to give chase.

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELLING FAST - NIGHT

	Eric lends the chase car a backward look.

				ERIC
		You caught one.  Drive faster.

				T-BIRD
		Man, you gonna get us killed dead
		and I don't even know what you
		want!

	Eric cocks T_Bird's pistol and levels it at his face.

				ERIC
		I want you to stop talking.  And 
		drive.  Drive faster.

	Eric rifles the glove box, tossing items out the window: clips
	for the gun.  Sunglasses.  A giant dildo (brief eyebrows-up to
	T-Bird).  Then: a roll of (previously established) gaffer's
	tape.  What Eric needs.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD AND REARVIEW MIRROR

	as he sees a second cop car join the high speed pursuit, 

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		You're very popular.  Thought
		you could handle this thing.

	T-Bird macho calcifies.  He's going to win.

				T-BIRD
		To hell with you.

				ERIC
			(wry)
		Naturally.

	INSERT - SPEEDOMETER

	Climbing swiftly toward the 100 mark.


	EXT. CITY STREETS - VARIOUS ANGLES - THE CHASE - NIGHT

	A 3-way pursuit until the T-Bird reaches the outskirts of the
	city.

	EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET - NIGHT

	All quiet... until the T-Bird ZOOMS past frame.  The lead cop
	tries to duplicate the T-Bird's corner-cut and starts spinning.
	It clips a light pole.  Rebounds into the path of MJ's unit.

	INT. POLICE CRUISER - ON SPEEG AND MJ - TRAVELING - NIGHT

	as MJ stands on the brakes.  Collision imminent.  They howl.

	EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET - NIGHT

	as MJ's unit broadsides the first cop car.

	EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - NIGHT

	The T-bird careens through dockside silence, alone, then
	fishtails, SCREECHING, to a lung-compressing halt.

	INT. T-BIRD - ON ERIC AND T-BIRD - NIGHT

	T-bird respirating like a jackhammer.  Eric holds stoic.

				T-BIRD
		So what -- you gonna rape me now?

				ERIC
		Time for your reward, T.  Payback
		with interest earned.

	Eric rips a long strip of tape from the roll.

	EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - NIGHT

	A HIGH ANGLE of the car as Eric opens the trunk.

	ERIC'S POV - The Trunk.

	loaded with plastique, canisters, timers, arson paraphernalia.

	INT. T-BIRD - FAVOR T-BIRD - NIGHT

	SLOW TILT starting with T-Bird's foot, firmly taped to the
	pedal.  Mummified into his seat.  Hands taped to the wheel.
	Throat taped hard against the headrest.

	The car is now in gear, idling.

	ANGLE - ON ERIC FROM WINDOW

	He drops an incendiary right into T-Bird's lap.  T-Bird squirms.
	No go.  Eric reaches in with a bungie cord.

				ERIC
		A little restrictive?  Good.
			(chilling)
		You held her down and raped her.
		You were the first.  She burned
		while you were inside of her.
			(re: bomb)
		What's the lag on this?  About
		twenty seconds, would you say?

	T-bird thrashes, but he's immobilized.  Can't even budge the
	wheel.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I've comrades in hell, T-bird.
		Give them my best.

	Eric activates the timer.  Yanks up hard on the bungie cord.

	INSERT: T-BIRD FOOTWELL

	The bungie cord pulls T-Bird's foot all the way down on the
	pedal.

	ANGLE - ON CAR, FROM DOCKSIDE

	Eric steps back, plucks the guitar out as the car starts to move.  The
	car roars for the edge of the dock, about a distance of a
	football field.  Eric examines T-bird's auto pistol and pops the
	clip.

	INTERCUTS:  as the car speeds for the water's edge, Eric thumbs
	bullets from the clip, one by one.

	INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING FAST - NIGHT

	T-bird's eyes bug in horror and he goes MMMMMMMMHHH!

	CLOSE-UP - THE CLIP IN ERIC'S HAND

	thumbing out the final bullet.

	EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

				ERIC
		All gone.

	ANGLE - T-BIRD REACHES DOCKSIDE

	Lifting off and blowing all to hell, a billion smithereens of
	phosphorescent firs pattering into the dark water.  It hits.
	Sinks.  Weird flare glow as the car quickly submerges.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	heaving the gun into the distant water.  Plosh.  He produces T-
	Bird's accelerator.  Squirts it into the ground.  He
	prestidigitates and T-Bird's Zippo appears in his hand.  He 
	flicks it and drops it into the flammable puddle.

	HIGH LONG SHOT - ERIC

	walking slowly out of the scene as the firepool coalesces into
	a burning crow shape. 

	INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAWN

	CLOSE-UP of a frying pan busy burning some pretty firebombed
	looking eggs.  Kind gross.

	ANGLE - DARLA AT THE STOVE.

	NOT THRILLED WITH HER OWN PROGRESS.

				DARLA
		I never was too good at this 
		domestic shit.

	ANGLE - ELLY AT LIVING ROOM WINDOW

	staring outside at nothing in particular.  Yet.

				ELLY
		Don't say "shit".
			(beat)
		That's okay.  Corn Flakes are
		okay.  Anything.

	She pauses as she hears a lilting, faraway GUITAR STRAIN.
	Across the street she can make out the figure of Eric on his 
	roof playing the guitar.

	EXT. ROOF OF LOFT BUILDING DAWN

	EXTREME CLOSE of a Pignose Amp.  More soft GUITAR strokes as
	CAMERA FOLLOWS a patchwork a taped-together, jerry-rigged
	cables to:

	ANGLE - ERIC ON ROOF -- shirtless, crosslegged, his Crow make-up
	streaked by the night's work.  His fingering is unsure and he 
	tries the tune again.

	INSERT - We she Shelly's engagement ring on a leather thong
	around Eric's neck.  Like an amulet.

	ANGLE - ERIC PLAYING

	He's got it right this time.  Strong, sure CHORDS.  Passionate.
	We can almost imagine him conjuring Shelly via musical sorcery.
	He holds a stroke, letting it ring.  Sun rises behind him.

				IRATE VOICE (O.S.)
		Hey, shut the fuck up!

	Eric's eyes, closed with the moment, dart left.  Funny.

	EXT. MAXI-DOGS - DAY

	Later.  Elly is seated on a stool..  Mickey gives her a chili
	dog.

				MICKEY
		Chili dog for breakfast... it's
		original.

				ELLY
		Mom tried to cook.

				MICKEY
		Oh.

				CUSTOMER (O.S.)
		Hey, Mickey, I need a special
		with everything.  No sawdust.

				MICKEY
			(to Elly)
		Everyone's a comedian.  Enjoy.

	Mickey EXITS FRAME.

				GRANGE (O.S.)
		You're Elly, right?  I know your
		mom.

	Elly turns.  Grange sits next to her.  Lao's mirrored-windowed car
	is parked across the street, b.g.

				ELLY
		A lot of people "know" my mom.

	Grange points o.s., indicating he wants coffee from Mickey.

				GRANGE
		I know your friend, too -- the one
		that looks like a rock star.

				ELLY
		I don't know you.

				GRANGE
			(easily)
		I'd like to get in touch with him.

	Elly sizes Grange up.

				ELLY
		You're not a cop, either.  What do
		you want him for?

				GRANGE
		I'm looking for a good guitar man.

				ELLY
		Right.

	Grange withdraws a $10 bill from his wallet and slides it across
	the countertop to Mickey.

				ELLY (CONT'D)
		You buying?
			(cuts him some slack)
		He kinda wanders around.  You'll
		see him if you pay attention.

				GRANGE
		I need to find him kind of soon,
		Elly.


	INT. LOFT - ON ERIC - DAY

	No shirt, the ring on the thong around his neck -- workout mode.

	He twirls and performs odd Crow moves of increasing complexity
	in the big open living room.  On purpose, he stretches hard
	against the bedroom doorframe.

	FLASH:  Shelly stands in the blue moonlight near the picture window
	wearing a rococo Victorian gown.  PUSH IN TIGHT as she is
	embraced by a nude Eric.  He undoes the last few remaining ties
	that hold the gown in place.  FOLLOW THE GOWN as it crumples
	down the length of Shelly's (also otherwise nude) body to the
	floor...

							FLASH ENDS.

	LOW ANGEL - FROM INSIDE THE BEDROOM - ON ERIC

	hanging there, inviting the pain the FLASHES bring.  Breathing
	as though he is pumping iron, pumping up.

	ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN BEDROOM

	embracing a ragged full-length dress that used to be Shelly's.

	FLASH: Eric and Shelly (wearing the same dress), exchange an
	extremely passionate and intimate KISS in the moonlight.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC

	as he drops the dress.  Absorbing the pain and memories.

	ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN LIVING ROOM

	executing a complex roll that winds him up at the windowsill.
	He grasps it with both hands.

	FLASH:  A series of CLOSE SHOTS of Eric and Shelly's HANDS, each
	moving along the other's body.  Curves and dips and contours.
	But Eric's gaze never leaves SHelly's eyes.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AT WINDOW

	His GAZE similarly FIXED.  Bringing his hands away and clapping
	them together, deep breath, fingertips pressed to his face, like
	Kung Fu prep.  When he opens his eyes, the crow is there before
	him on the sill.

				ERIC
		That's better.

	He wipes his torso down with a towel.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		It's almost time.

	He holds his hand in front of his face and he flexes it.  We can
	HEAR tendons CRACKLE like a harness.  Closes it into a powerful
	fist.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	TIGHT on Skank as he slams his fist down on the table.  He has
	a black eye and facial scuffs from his liquor store encounter.

				SKANK
		Top, I made the sumbitch!  Face
		all painted white like some kinda
		fuckin' kabuki homo!

	WIDE ANGLE to include all present:  Lao, Grange, Lao Guards #1 
	and #2, Top Dollar, and a Sentry.  Top dusts up a line and
	rinses his nostrils with brandy.

				LAO
		Sounds like our "Crow" is
		out-maneuvering you.

				TOP DOLLAR
		"Our" Crow...?

				LAO
		Come now.  You've seen the 
		graffiti -- all over the city in
		the few hors it has taken your
		men to drop like plague victims.
		What about your turf, Top?
			(mockingly)
		You don't seem to have ripped out
		anyone's heart yet.

				TOP DOLLAR
			(pissed off)
		The night is young.

				SKANK
			(hot)
		The found T-bird flash-fried to
		what was left of his fucking car!

	Top is angry too, but won't show it to Lao.  He rises and goes
	to the window.  Neon glow.  Top sees something outside, below,
	that really torques him off.

	EXT. STREET OUTSIDE SHOWTIME - NIGHT (TOP'S POV)

	A phantom GRAFFITI ARTIST is spray-painting a crow shape on the
	condemned building right across the street.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	Top whip-drawing an auto pistol and shooting below.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Hey, you little fuckweed!  That's
		against the law!

	His gun smoking.  Momentary empowerment.

				TOP DOLLAR (CONT'D)
		I don't give a shit what kinda
		bird this guy is.

	EXT. WINDOW - NIGHT

	As Top turns from the window,  PULL BACK to incorporate the
	chunky shadows where the lights don't fall.  Eric is there,
	perched on the narrow exterior ledge...but we don't know it
	until he opens his eyes, two dots of white in the blackness.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

	LAO AT TABLE -- angered by this macho horseshit, annoyed at his
	time being frittered.

				LAO
		I am sitting over here.

	He SLAMS a palm on the table and the room goes silent.  Top
	looks sheepish.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Do you think this childish
		machismo impresses me?
			(regains composure)
		When I was a boy in Saigon I
		watched my country change one 
		block at a time,  one building at
		a time.  Whole lives erased.  A
		way of life, polluted.  Today, no 
		one forces me to move.  I use my
		powers to change your country, one
		block at a time,  one building at
		a time.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Nice speech.  What's it supposed
		to mean?

				LAO
		Your comprehension is not
		required.  Your cooperation and,
		indeed, your ability are the
		issues on the table.

	Top rallies to this.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Whatever you say, I can do.

	Skank looks around, nervous and jumpy, a contradiction to Top's
	guarantee.

				LAO
		That's reassuring.

	CLOSE-UP - TOP'S SHELL CASING IN ERIC'S HAND

	from the ledge.  Endstamp is for a .45 caliber.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON LEDGE

	He sniffs the cartridge.  We can see Funboy's cartridge in his
	hair.  He fists the shell casing tightly.

	ANGLE - DOWN-TABLE, AT SKANK

	Jittery, grabbing a clip for his own automatic.

				SKANK
		What was that -- !?

	It wasn't anything.  Skank loads, stands and jacks the action on
	his gun.  Lao looks questioningly to Top Dollar.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Too many poppers, Skank.  Relax.  Heel.

	ANGLE - WINDOW BEHIND TOP DOLLAR

	A black blur as Eric arches through, spilling Top.

	ANGLE - MEN SEATED AT TABLE

	Eric back flips the length of the table and kicks the gun from
	Skank's hand.  All react.  Weapons out.

	CLOSE-UP - SKANK'S GUN

	spinning mid-air to land in Eric's open hand!

	GENERAL ANGLE - BIG MOBY SHOOTOUT - (VARIOUS)

	Death cleans house.  Standing on the table, Eric fires rearward
	under his own arm to clip Lao Guard #1.  He pivots, shooting,
	and takes out Lao Guard #2 -- who slams backward into the steel
	door as it being opened by the Sentry outside.  Crash!  The
	door is shut again.

	ANGLE - GRANGE AND LAO

	Grange sprays the room with a Calico 950 Auto, shoving Lao
	beneath the table for cover.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	Bullets hit him and demolish everything behind him.  Skank hits
	the deck again.  Eric fires and Lao Guard #1 sucks three hits 
	across the chest, firing convulsively against the ceiling, blowing
	the lights.

	ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

	springing up from behind table.  But Eric is gone from the field
	of fire and one shot strikes Skank, rising at the far end.

	ANGLE - LAO AND GRANGE

	making for the door, Grange as shield.  Lao draws a pistol.  The door
	opens and Lao shoots a Sentry to clear him out of the way.

	ANGLE - TIGHTER ON LAO

	A last look back toward Eric and Grange hustle Lao out.

	Door SLAM o.s.  Top is out of ammo as Eric lands from above
	frame right in front of him and slaps the gun from his hand.

				TOP DOLLAR
			(awed but maintained)
		You want my attention, man you
		got it.

	ANGLE - SKANK UNDER TABLE

	Wounded but clawing toward Eric just the same.

				SKANK
		It's him, Top!  He dusted T-Bird!

	ANGLE - ERIC AND TOP DOLLAR, FACE-TO-FACE

				ERIC
		You have to be SKank.
			(to Top Dollar)
		One moment.

	As he speaks, WIDEN FRAME as he turns and grabs the incoming
	Skank by the hair.

				ERIC
		Thank of a snappy comeback for me
		on your way down.

	Without a beat he pitches Skank right out the window!  Skank howls
	all the way down.

	EXT. STREET - ON POLICE CAR - NIGHT

	Damaged from the wreck, limping home, piloted by our pals Speeg
	and MJ.  Skank smashes down into the roof, imploding the
	flashbar and windshield.  MJ drenches his lap in fresh coffee.

				MJ
		OwwwAAHHH son of a BITCH!

	ANGLE - SIDEWALK ACROSS THE STREET - ON ALBRECHT

	who watches with slow marvel from the shadows
				ALBRECHT
		Jesus Christ...

	He runs to assist the demolished cruiser.

	INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - RESUMING - NIGHT

	Just Top, Eric, corpses, and lazily drifting gunsmoke.

				ERIC
		Top Dollar, you're the only one
		here still wasting good air...

				TOP DOLLAR
		Five large, in the drawer right 
		over there.  I never saw you.

				ERIC
		Do you know what you destroyed?

				TOP DOLLAR
		Take the dope, too.

	Eric backhands Top into the wall.  Gets in his face, seething.

				ERIC
		A year ago.  A very nice lady
		circulated a petition.  She died.
		Last Halloween.  Answer yes or no.

				TOP DOLLAR
		That's ancient history.

				ERIC
		It's yesterday!  Do you know what
		you destroyed?

	Top Dollar yells right back at Eric's anger.

				TOP DOLLAR
		Who gives a fuck!  I'm a
		businessman.  You gonna do me,
		then do me and shut you're face!

				ERIC
		You don't even remember...

				TOP DOLLAR
		I never forget anything, dickhead.
		That building was a sweep-and-
		clear; the bitch was a nuisance
		with her goddamned petition.  It
		got a little rowdy... end of
		story.

				ERIC
		Rowdy.  Let me fill in some gaps 
		for you.

	And he grabs Top's head the way he grabbed ALbrecht's earlier,
	slams Top into the wall.  Nose-to-nose.

	FLASH:  Shelly backing away from oncoming Funboy in the loft,
	trying to retreat, nowhere to run, her home invaded, scared.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

	Top is quivering, almost helpless in Eric's hypnotic grasp.
	Eric winces, hard, and --

	FLASH:  Shelly cut, bleeding, struggling against T-Bird.  Wild.

							FLASH ENDS.

	ANGLE - RESUMING TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

	Viciously close, more intimate and lethal than anything.

				ERIC
		You're a detail man, Top -- you
		need to see more.

	This time Top tries to twist from Eric's grasp but it's no good.

	FLASH: Shelly, comatose in ICU, eyes fixed and staring, 
	hoses darting in and out, cold blue refrigerator light.

	Bloody, bruised and broken (from Albrecht;s memory)

							FLASH ENDS.

	CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR

	arching, stiffening in pain.

	CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

				ERIC
		All of her pain, Top.  Thirty
		hours.  All at once...

	Eric bears down on Top Dollar again.  Top screams.  Blood begins
	to leak from his eyes, nose, ears.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		...all for you.

	FLASH:  Rapidfire CLOSE-UPS.  A jagged compound fracture,
	jutting, Shelly's eye, blood-red sclera, purpled and sunken.

	Her scraped-raw hand clawing at air.  Icebox lighting.  A TIGHT
	SHOT of her monitor going flatline: eeeeeeeeeeeeee...

	TWO-SHOT - RESUMING ERIC AND TOP DOLLAR.

	as Top sags in Eric's grasp, terror fixing his wide-staring dead
	eyes.  Eric lets him drop like a laundry sack.

				ERIC
		I didn't think you could handle it
		either.

	O.S. BANG of impact, heavy against the steel door.  Eric turns.

	ANGLE - STEEL DOOR

	as it is battered down by a squad of police using a power-ram.
	All weapons snap up to bear on Eric.

				LEAD SWAT
		That's all she wrote, Bozo!  You
		stand down now, and that's an
		order!

	ANGLE - ERIC AS HE MOVES

	using his foot to shove the massive conference table at the 
	incoming SWATS while launching himself into the air, flipping
	toward the window and arching through cleanly as the cops open
	fire on command.  Bullets tear the room to pieces.

				LEAD SWAT
		The fire escape's covered.

	EXT. SHOWTIME - FRONT FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

	Picking up Eric on his dive through the window, bullets chasing
	him.  Immediate police fire from below sparks off the ironwork.
	Eric ducks slugs balletically and scampers to the roof.

	ANGLE - SHOWTIME ROOFTOP EDGE

	Eric somersaults over.  Bullets chip brick in his wake.

	STREET LEVEL - UP ANGLE TOWARD ROOF.

	Showtime girded police cars and MARKSMEN, Eric a distant
	shadow figure above.  Here comes a TEAM LEADER with a bullhorn.

				TEAM LEADER (FILTERED)
		On the roof!  Keep firing!  Keep
		firing!

	A fury of law enforcement ordnance cuts loose all around him.

	RESUMING ERIC ON SHOWTIME ROOF EDGE

	A forearm up against the fusillade.  Below him --

	ANGLE - PIT FRONT FIRE ESCAPE 

	Here come Lead SWAT and his Merry MEN.

	MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC - ADJACENT ROOFTOP

	Eric runs for it.  Half a story higher.  He hits the wall and
	skitters up, gripping tiny cracks in the brickwork.

	ANGLE - RESUMING MEN ON FRONT SHOWTIME FIRE ESCAPE.

	Lead SWAT hesitates -- because of what he sees.

				LEAD SWAT
		Holy shit, it's spiderman.

	He tries to pull a bead and fires too late.

				LEAD SWAT (CONT'D)
		What're you boy scouts staring at!
		Let's Go!  Let's go!  Let's go!

	MOVING ANGLE - PICKING UP ERIC ON NEXT ROOF

	He sprints to the far edge and dives to the next lower rooftop.
	As he lands he is nailed by a helicopter spotlight, boring in 
	from behind and above the row of buildings.

	MOVING ANGLE - THE STREET BELOW

	COPS below, COPS in the chopper, everyone rushing parallel to 
	Eric, trying to keep up.

	ERIC'S POV - THE STREET, THE HELICOPTER

	PAN QUICK to the next ledge.  COPS right behind him on the roof
	as well.

	WITH ERIC - AS HE RUNS TO THE EDGE.

	and finds a void waiting there.  No connecting building.

	ANOTHER MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

	staying ahead of the search light.  A fantastic series of artful
	moves that wind him up at the rear edge of the roof.

	ANGLE - SWAT MEN ON NEXT ROOF

	sighting Eric as the light picks him out.  Eric glances at 
	them... then jumps.

				CHOPPER PILOT (O.S./FILTERED)
		He's off the roof.  We can't see
		him.

	CLOSE-UP - LEAD SWAT

	pulling his weapon off target, because there is not target.  

				LEAD SWAT
		Dammit to hell!
			(beat; to men)
		Come on.

	ANGLE - ALLEY - STREET LEVEL

	Eric lands like a falling safe, scattering garbage.  But he's 
	okay, up and running.

	ANGLE - ERIC'S RUNNING POV - END OF ALLEY

	as his escape is cut off by a police car that screeches to a 
	stop, blocking the exit.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

	as he backpedals, scanning for an alternate escape.

				ALBRECHT
			(from car)
		Come on!

	CLOSER ANGLE  - POLICE CAR

	We can see Albrecht.  Eric dives inside and the car burns rubber.

	INT. ALBRECHT'S CAR - TRAVELLING - NIGHT

	Albrecht harried and frantic, but in control.

				ALBRECHT
		Keep your head down!

	He twists and turns the car, glancing rearward for pursuit.  

	Gradually he calms down.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		I figured you might need a ride 
		home.

	Eric looks up at him from his half-concealed crouch.

				ERIC
		It's done.
				ALBRECHT
		I figured as much.  Did you cap
		off Funboy.

				ERIC
		Funboy had to leave this mortal 
		coil.

				ALBRECHT
		Yeah, among others.
			(sees Eric's condition)
		Hey, man -- you're hit.

				ERIC
		It's only a flesh wound.

				ALBRECHT
		It's only fourteen or fifteen 
		flesh wounds.

	Eric sits up as the car gains distance.  Grabs the cigarette out 
	of ALbrecht's mouth.  Takes his single puff.

				ERIC
		You shouldn't smoke these.

	He pitches the smoke out the open car window.

				ALBRECHT
		Great.  Litterbug of the Living
		Dead.

	Eric turns back to Albrecht.

				ERIC
		I'm finished.

	Eric shoots him a doubtful look.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I mean, I've done what I came to
		do.  It shouldn't hurt this much.
		But it will pass...

				ALBRECHT
			(not buying it)
		Right.
			(beat)
		You sure I can't just take you to 
		the emergency ward?

	EXT. STREET - NIGHT - ON ALBRECHT'S CAR

	It hangs a turn and their escape is made.

				ERIC (O.S.)
		They couldn't do anything for me.

				ALBRECHT (O.S.)
		How 'bout the morgue?

				ERIC (O.S.)
		No.  I have one more thing to do.

	EXT. STREET - ANOTHER PART OF THE CITY - NIGHT

	Lonelier, less traffic, more deserted.

	ANGLE - ON ALBRECHT AND ERIC THROUGH WINDSHIELD - TRAVELLING

				ALBRECHT
		You're gonna kill somebody else.
			(beat; no response)
		We're gonna stop and get a shit-load
		of Band-Aids?

	Eric is obviously fighting to stay centered, stay conscious.
	His last fight has caused him a great deal of damage, taken a
	lot out of him.  He needs to recharge.

				ERIC
		I have to prepare for an 
		anniversary.  This coming night.

	HOLD on their two kinds of determination. as we

							DISSOLVE TO:

	EXT. CITYSCAPE - DAY

	High blue sky.  It might even be pretty if it wasn't Detroit.

	INT. LAO'S CLUB OFFICE - DAY

	The TV flybank pulses with videotaped images of Club Trash's of
	various performers -- including Diabolique.  On several screens,
	one-by-one, various images of a guitar-playing Eric Draven
	FREEZE-FRAME as we PULL BACK to the desk.  Lao has the 8x10 from
	the corridor gallery.  He places it within eyeshot and resumes
	work on the desk BELOW FRAME;  we can't see it yet, among other
	scattered research and inconcubula.

	ANGLE - GRANGE

	Entering and crossing to the desk.  As he comes up to the desk,
	he DRAWS BACK.

				GRANGE
		What... the hell is that?

				LAO
			(calmly)
		This is a cobra, Mr. Grange.  Yes,
		it is real.

	NEW ANGLE - LAO AND GRANGE

	Revealing Lao with a sealed cage, holding a large, live cobra in
	his hands.  The killing blade is nearby.

				GRANGE
		That thing is poisonous.

				LAO
		Extremely so.
			(beat)
		You and I are the recipients of
		unwanted good fortune, in the form 
		of a man everyone is calling The Crow.

	Grange makes a face.  Can't keep his eyes off the cobra.

				GRANGE
		Give me a break.  That guy's a wacko...

				LAO
		I intend no slight to you, but I
		cannot find the English to
		adequately express just what he
		is.  I suppose Western mythology
		would describe him as a Fury.
		
				GRANGE
		Not a Plymouth Fury, I bet.

	Lao chuckles indulgently.

				LAO
		Do you know of spirit assassins?
		You do know the dead can rise?
		Properly motivated, of course.

				GRANGE
		Like some sort of zombie on a 
		revenge trip.

				LAO
		Mmm.  But tonight I can take what
		is his.

				GRANGE
		Only thing you'll get from that
		clown is a faster way to die.
				LAO
		To the contrary...

	ZZLIP!  Lao smoothly BEHEADS the snake with the Blade against
	the stone surface of the desk and discards the writhing body.
	He squeezes behind one of the eyes and a VENOM SAC protrudes
	like a dark pimento.

	LAO pulls it free of the milky, clinging tissue and EATS IT.
	Off Grange's stunned expression.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		...all the dying tonight will be 
		done by the former Eric Draven.

	Lao exhibits the blade to Grange as though it explains all.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Who is only invulnerable so long
		as he cares about the dead.  When
		he begins to care about the living,
		you'll find his heart can bleed...
		and I want it to bleed for me.

				GRANGE
		Kill a dead guy?

	Lao POPS the second venom sac; swallows it.  Pleased.

				LAO
		Truly kill him.  So I may crush
		his skull and smoke it.

	Lao SHRUGS.  Grange can handle it.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Let it suffice that I need him...
		and to get to him, we'll need his 
		little friend.

	Finally, an assignment Grange can comfortable understand. 

	INT. LOFT - DAY

	Eric, barechested, emotionally tapped, clean of makeup and blood
	but exhausted, his movements retarded and slack.  Staring
	fixedly into the fireplace,  where he burns everything he could
	find of his past:  the junk from the makeup table, the masques,
	photos of himself and Shelly.

	INT. LOFT - STAIRWELL - DAY

	Moving with Elly as she nears the open loft door.  She PEEKS
	cautiously inside.

	RESUME ERIC

	Without looking toward the door, he speaks.

				ELLY
		What's going on...?

				ERIC
		A remembrance.
			(beat)
		A closure.

	And Eric consigns to the fire the DRESS we saw earlier.

	Holds a photograph in a broken frame.  Cracked glass.  Subject:
	Eric and Shelly, goofing for the camera.

	He chucks it into the fire.  Draws a deep breath.

				ERIC
		Better now.  I feel good.  How are
		you, Elly, my friend?

	Elly is clearly uncomfortable, groping for an excuse just to see 
	Eric.  Eric is staring at her, intently.

				ERIC
		What is it?
				ELLY
		I knew.  I knew I knew you.  Even
		with the makeup and stuff you
		wore.
			(beat)
		You really loved her, didn't you?

	CLOSE-UP - FIREPLACE

	The photo burns and blackens in the grate.

				ERIC
		You brought flowers.  As long as 
		you don't forget her, Elly, she 
		lives.

				ELLY
			(upset)
		She's dead.  She's gone.  And now
		you're just gonna go away and
		never come back, too.  I hate this
		place; it isn't fair.

				ERIC
		Elly...

	He draws her close.  Wipes away an errant tear with his thumb.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		Sometimes the people we care about
		are gone, for no reason.  Sometimes
		that's really tough.  I cry.  But if 
		the people we love are gone, we keep them --

	He taps Elly's temple, then his won.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		-- right here.  It's a big
		responsibility.  And that makes it 
		okay to mourn.
			(beat)
		I know that if you weren't here,
		I'd be very sad.

	Elly gives Eric a hug.

				ELLY
		You look funny without your white
		face on.  Like it's your day off
		or something.

	He quizzical expression amuses him.

				ERIC
		Somebody here wants to meet you. Gabriel?

	Gabriel the cat has wandered near the fireplace to join them.  
	Elly is immediately smitten.  Happy.
		
				ELLY
		I remember him!  Here, Gabriel...
		here kitty... Gabriel... Is he
		still yours?

				ERIC
		I think he's yours, now.

	The cat seems to like that idea.  Elly wraps him hugely up in
	her arms, talking to him: "How're you, Gabriel, whatcha doin'"

	ANOTHER ANGLE - TIGHTER ON ERIC

	While Elly is preoccupied with the cat, Eric gives up his last
	bit of Shelly to the fire - a portrait photo of her, small and 
	creased.  He puts it in the fire, watches it burn for a beat,
	then turns to Elly.

				ERIC (CONT'D)
		I have something else for you.

	BACK FOCUS as Eric lifts off his neck Shelly's ring for Elly's
	inspection.  The ring twirls large in f.g.

				ELLY
		Nobody ever gave me something like
		that before.  Ever.

	Eric places it around her neck.  Elly BEAMS.

				ERIC
		Shelly would've wanted you to have
		it.  This way, you'll think of her 
		every time you see it...

				ELLY
		And she'll be alive.  Up here.

	Elly TAPS her own temple with a smile, keeping one hand on the
	ring.

							CUT TO:

	EXT. STREET - DAY

	Blowing wind.  TRICK-OR-TREATERS wisp past.  Ghosts, witches,
	demons out for Halloween.

	ANGLE - CEMETERY FENCE

	walking home with Gabriel zipped up inside her coat is Elly.  A
	fire engine wails past in the opposite direction.

	ANGLE - ELLY ON BROWNSTONE STEPS

	Strictly downscale building.  Elly to Gabriel"

				ELLY
		You're gonna like it here.

	A car curbs across the street as she enters the building.

	ANGLE - PUSH IN ON CAR

	as the window cranks down to reveal Grange at the wheel.

	INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY

	Darla nervously smoking, doing her best to stay clean, but
	jittery.  Elly enters the shabby living room with Gabriel in her
	arms.

				DARLA
		I was wonderin' where you'd
		gotten to --
			(she sees Gabriel)
		Oh, Elly, honey, a cat.  Here?

				ELLY
		He was a present.  Besides, we're
		moving anyway.  You said.

				DARLA
		We'll discuss this later.
		Obviously.  You left the door open.

	DARLA points.  As Elly goes to close the door it opens.

	NEW ANGLE - FAVOR THE DOOR

	Grange enters accompanied by two Asian martial arts STRONGARMS
	(Lao Guards #3 & #4).  Grange looks around, bemused, his manner
	avuncular.

				GRANGE
		Hi, Elly.  Remember me?

	Elly's surprise is evident.  Darla is just plain pissed off.

				DARLA
		I don't remember you.  And I don't
		remember inviting...

				GRANGE
			(to his MEN)
		If she opens her face again, shoot
		her in the head.

	ANGLE - DARLA

	Mouth stalling in the ON position as Lao Guard #3 pulls a 
	gigantic gun, draws and cocks.

				ELLY
			(panicked)
		Mom -- !

	ANGLE - GUARD #4 AND ELLY

	as he scoops her up, captive.

	ANGLE - GRANGE AND GABRIEL

	He strolls the circuit of the room, stopping near the window.

				GRANGE
		You should listen to your mother.
		She said no cats.

	Grange pitches Gabriel right out the window.

				ELLY
		Gabriel!

	Grange pulls out a compact Polaroid camera.

				GRANGE
		Now that's the expression I want.

	ANGLE - ELLY AND GUARD #4

	As she struggle mightily, to no avail, as Grange moves in to
	snap his shot.

				GRANGE (CONT'D)
		Say cheese.

	He snaps.  On the SX-70 WHIRR and flash white-out, we --

	EXT. LOFT BUILDING ROOFTOP - SUNSET

	Dark clouds have gathered to highlight the sunset.  Eric plays
	the guitar - LOUD, the SHelly theme in a major key.  Where
	before it was wandering, uncertain, now it's bold and
	heartbreaking.  Definitive.  Pain replaced by strength and a
	sense of homecoming.

	As Eric gets to the end of it, the notes are flying out... At
	the climax, rips the guitar up over his head and brings it 
	down -- SMASH -- on the Pignose.  He's finished here.

	ROOF EDGE - FROM STREET

	as the broken guitar SAILS OUT over the building edge.

	INT. LOFT BUILDING STAIRWELL - DUSK

	As Eric comes down the stairs.  Notices the open door.

	INT. LOFT - DUSK

	He enters, cautiously, to find an envelope laying in the middle
	of the floor.  He opens it.

	INSERT - THE POLAROID OF ELLY

	with a note.

	UP ANGLE AT ERIC READING THE NOTE - FROM FLOOR

	The crow flies past behind him as his expression hardens.

	NEW ANGLE -  A MOMENT LATER - FAST AND HARD

	Eric brutally crisscrosses his arms with black vinyl tape.

	ANGLE - ERIC DRESSING

	Pulling on black night-fighting clothes, skintight.

	ANGLE - THE VANITY

	as Eric (seen in mirror) jabs his fingers into the white
	makeup and smears it on.

							SMASH CUT TO:

	EXT. STREET NEAR CEMETERY - NIGHT

	Eric marches along in plain view since everyone around him seems
	to be in costume.  The wind whips his coat.  KIDS bustle around
	him with trick-or-treat bags.  The crow perched on his shoulder.

	ERIC'S POV - CITY SKYLINE

	Somewhere, a few blocks over, a building is burning.

	ANGLE - ERIC WALKING

	A fire engine races past on the street.  He steps out in its
	wake and crosses over to --

	MEDIUM MOVING SHOT - THE CEMETERY

	waiting for him as he crosses to the fence.  Beyond the fence,
	in the distance, the church looms.

	ANGLE - ERIC

	He pauses.  A KID in a Creature from the Black Lagoon mask
	comes, passes Eric, then comes back for a touch.

				CREATURE KID
		Trick or treat!

	Eric smiles.  Not tonight.

	EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT

	Eric is standing over the grave of Shelly Webster, looking down.
	He holds for a moment then moves on.

	EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT

	Eric ascends toward giant oak doors, tres Gothique.  The crow
	flaps past, leading him.

	NEW ANGLE - TOP OF STEPS -- where waits the Skull Cowboy.  As
	Eric approaches, the Skull Cowboy interposes himself between
	Eric and the huge double doors.

	Eric glares up, defiant.  Moves up the steps.  The Skull Cowboy
	extends a skeletal hand.  STOP.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Stop screwing around.

	TIGHT ON ERIC

	Angry, ready to battle:  You talking to me?

				SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)
		Your job is done.  You interfere
		with the living again.

				ERIC
		Tell me I'll get hurt.  That I 
		might die.
			(beat)
		I've already done that.  I don't 
		need anyone's help.  Yours 
		included.

	STAIR ANGLE - ERIC AND SKULL COWBOY

	Eric lower, Skull Cowboy superior, the storm wild around them.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Do this thing and you will be
		vulnerable.  The blood will not
		return.
			(beat)
		No powers.  No reunion.  Nothing.

				ERIC
		Fine with me.

	He ADVANCES a step up; the Skull Cowboy Hold fast.

				SKULL COWBOY
		You'll be alone.

				ERIC
		I'm already alone.

	INT. BELL TOWER - NIGHT

	Through a castle keep-like slit, Grange monitors Eric's
	arrival.  He speaks into a headset.

				GRANGE
		We've got company.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		Is he inside?

	GRANGE'S POV - ERIC

	Eric Talking to dead air.  Almost arguing with it.  Eerie.

	RESUME GRANGE

	As he talks into his mike he hefts a nightscoped, laser-sighted
	sniper's rifle.

				GRANGE
		He's just out front talking to
		himself.  You tell me. 

	EXT. CHURCH - RESUMING ERIC ON STEPS - NIGHT

	Eric, eyes steely, stares down the Skull Cowboy.

				ERIC
		Don't waste my time.

				SKULL COWBOY
		Very well, it's your ass.

	And the wind kicks up around them both, powerfully.

	ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY (EFFECT)

	As the force of the storm dust-devils around him and begins to
	disassemble him.  The fire in his eye sockets goes out.  His hat
	flies off an is pulverized by the wind.  The garments begin to
	disintegrate and blow around, rotten cerements falling apart in
	mid-air.

	ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS -- transfixed by this unexpected
	development.  A shard of the Skull Cowboy blows past Eric's face 
	and transmutes to dust!

	RESUME SKULL COWBOY AT TOP OF STEPS (EFFECT)

	Transparent, ancient bones, crumbling and blowing away.

	ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

	As Eric lunges for what's left of his mysterious, smart-ass
	mentor
	CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S LUNGING HAND

	Meeting only a swirl of vaporous dust where the Skull Cowboy's
	heart would have been.

	TIGHT ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

	He has time to register the dust in his palm before it, too,
	renders down to nothingness,  leaving a vague green glow that
	dies.  And as he looks to the sky --

	UP ANGLE - THE CROW

	flapping down to land on Eric's shoulder.  Eric is astonished.

				ERIC
		But why are you still here?

	CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

	No answer in the crow's eyes.

	RESUME AND FOLLOW ERIC

	That's good enough for Eric.  He marches to the double doors and
	shoves them back.

	INT. CHURCH - AS ERIC COMES THROUGH THE DOORS - NIGHT

	The high breeze blows in with him, disturbing dust in the
	disused Gothic dark.  Hollow cathedral ECHOES to sounds.  A
	giant 27" TV positioned on the alter, broadcasting static.

	LONG SHOT - ERIC AS HE APPROACHES THE ALTER - ("CROWVISION")

	Leery of potential danger from a thousand dark places.

	ANGLE - THE TV - AS ERIC ENTERS FRAME

	Onscreen:  Elly, gagged with duct tape and handcuffed to an iron
	ring bolted to a flagstone wall.  Could be anywhere inside the
	church.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		I believe our friend Elly call
		you Mister Crow.
			(beat)
		Please acknowledge; the mike
		will pick you up.
		
				ERIC
		I can see her.

				LAO
		Of course you can.
	ANGLE - GRANGE IN THE GALLERY --  in darkness.  The running
	lights on his night-scoped, laser-sighted sniper's rifle which
	THROWS vague sprays of eerie red and green light.

				LAO (CONT'D; O.S./FILTERED)
		Don't permit your rage to cloud
		the issue.  I believe in barter.
		I propose a simple trade.

	Grange sights his weapon.

	CROSSHAIR POV - ERIC AT THE ALTER

	Bluring as Grange resights.  Eric is not the target.  Blur
	FINDS the crow at the far end of the nave, perched in front of
	a giant stained glass window.

	NEW ANGLE - GRANGE -- squeezing off two quick, SILENCED shots.

	ANGLE - STAINED GLASS WINDOW -- the first shot blows a hole in
	some pastoral religious presentation.  TINKLE of glass.

	ANGLE - ERIC -- Spinning at the quiet !pfut! sound, to witness.

	ANGLE - INCOMING DART - ("CROWVISION")

	SPinning and hissing venomously.

	ANGLE - ERIC DUCKS

	As before, but the crow is not as fast.

	TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

	As it catches the dart and goes down in a flurry of feathers.

	LOW ANGLE - ERIC AT ALTER - INCLUDE TV

	His knees buckle.  Sympathetic PAIN from the hit.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		You intended to finish this
		evening in the cemetery.  I am 
		here to help you on your way.

	ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE IN GALLERY

	Swapping his tranquilizer gun for a more lethal rifle, similarly 
	scoped.  He sights the fallen Eric in a spray of green light.

	HIGH ANGLE - HAND HELD - ERIC AT ALTER

	Groping for support to drag himself back to standing.

				GRANGE (O.S.)
		I've got him if you want him.

				LAO (O.S./FILTERED)
		No shooting.

				GRANGE
			(into headset)
		Move in, guys.

	HIGH ANGLE - THE SANCTUARY -- as Lao Guards #3 and #4 move
	into light, closing on Eric's position in the center of isle.
	Both wield calico's and one bears a sword.

	CLOSE ANGLE - ALTER -- Lao makes his entrance from shadow
	wearing a brisk pugilist get-up, a practical fighting outfit.
	Makes a show of drawing the killing blade.

				LAO
		I wish to possess what you have now.

				ERIC
		I want the girl.  Unharmed.  Now.

				LAO
		I know.  That is why I will
		prevail.  Mr. Grange... ?

	Eric CRAMPS UP, CLUTCHING his throat in obvious pain.

	ANGLE - GRANGE AT STAINED GLASS WINDOW

	Holding the crow by the neck, TIGHTLY.  He plucks the tranq dart
	from the its body.

	ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AS LAO MOVES IN CLOSER

	Crashing to one knee, invisibly bludgeoned, struggling to
	breathe.  Lao has no fear, walking around the stricken Eric.

				LAO
		Sooner or later, my action were
		destined to bring me a genuine
		Fury.  And it turned out to be you.
		At last.  I appreciate your
		abilities as few mortals can.
		That's why I desire them.

				ERIC
		You're too late.  There was a guy
		outside - on the stairs - you
		really need to talk to.  But he 
		turned to dust and blew away.
			(beat, gasping)
		I don't have any power for you to take.

				LAO
		I don't believe that.
	Lao motions to Grange with the killing blade.  Grange RELAXES
	his deathgrip on the crow.  MOVE IN CLOSE on Eric so we may
	perceive a palpable degree of relief.

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Time for you to die for me.
			 (beat)
		Funny, how the dead can still
		bleed.  How they need air.

	Eric IMMOBILIZED as Lao DRAWS BACK the Blade.  To Grange:

				LAO (CONT'D)
		Break its neck.

	ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE AT WINDOW as he prepares to do dirty on
	the bird.

	Over his shoulder, we PUSH in to the BULLETHOLE from the first
	dart until we're in TIGHT CLOSE-UP of an eye watching through 
	the hole.

	EXT. CHURCH - OBVERSE OF WINDOW - NIGHT

	Albrecht digs through a sling bag of weaponry, trying to
	simultaneously monitor the peephole, muttering sotto to
	himself.

				ALBRECHT
		Had to go get yourself hip-deep in
		shit, didn't you, my friend.

	It begins to rain.  Albrecht glances resentfully toward the 
	sky.

				ALBRECHT (CONT'D)
		Give it a rest, huh?

	A hefts a machinegun, clipped over and under.  CUTS LOOSE on
	full auto into the Madonna on the window.

	INT.  CHURCH NAVE - NIGHT

	As the window EXPLODES toward Grange and he sucks big hits from
	behind, DROPPING the crow.  The bird hits the ground, flapping
	weakly.

	LAO GUARDS #3 & #4 exchange a look and whip up their Calicos,
	RETURNING FIRE.

	EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT

	Albrecht takes cover as a lot of religious stuff is noisily
	destroyed all around his position.  Chunks of the window
	continue to disintegrate. 

	INT. CHURCH ALTER (NIGHT)

	Eric tuck-and-rolls out of the way as we go CLOSE on Lao, 
	screaming.

				LAO
		I said no shooting!

	Then he's ducking bullets himself as Albrecht STEPS IN through
	the blown out window, the machine gun stuttering on slugs.

	The sanctuary comes apart around Lao.  He RETREATS to the alter
	and EXITS whence he came.

	TIGHT ON PEW -- ERIC DIVES just as Guard #4 comes after him with
	the sword, which chomps into the wood and gets stuck there.
	Guard #4 releases it and cross draws his Calico as ERIC springs
	back into the frame -- STRAIGHT UP.

	TIGHT ON GUARD #4 as Eric's lancing foot propels him backward
	before he can fire.

	INTERCUTS -- ALBRECHT AND GUARD #3 scrambling to reload.  Guard
	changes magazine; Albrecht swaps clips.

	ANGLE - DOWN LENGTH OF PEW -- Guard #4 slides.  Sits up with his 
	gun as Eric, down-pew, grabs the sword.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT WINDOW  firing now with a gun in each hand.

	RESUME ERIC AND GUARD #4, who eats it from Albrecht's gunfire,
	but not before he puts a round through Eric.

	Eric staggers back from the impact but keeps his feet.  

	RESUME ALBRECHT as he tosses away the dry pistol.  His machine
	gun jams, he fights to get the clip.

	ANGLE - GUARD #3 -- reloaded and rising, having caught Albrecht
	dead-bang in the open by the window.

	MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC --  A complex leap with the sword
	flashing.  He lands near Guard #3 and SLASHES UPWARDS, blade up.

	CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3 -- screaming in pain, gaping DOWN O.S.

	TIGHT ON ALBRECHT - looking UP, following the trajectory of
	something AIRBORNE toward him.

	CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3'S Calico spinning mid-air with Guard #3s
	HANDS still attached, severed mid-forearm by Eric's devastating
	strike.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT drops Guard #3 -- to REVEAL Eric in the
	background.  Eric salutes Albrecht with the tip of the sword.

	WITH ALBRECHT as he moves into the nave, which has been torn
	apart by gunfire.  Hazy smoke.  Two dead guys.  And Eric.

				ALBRECHT
		You sorta looked like you might
		need my help.

				ERIC
		This isn't your place.  This isn't
		your fight.  And I don't need
		your help.

				ALBRECHT
		You're welcome.

				ERIC
		Leave here.  Don't do this.  I
		don't want you here.

				ALBRECHT
		The hell you say.  This isn't just 
		about you any more.

	Eric stares dead-on at Albrecht, acidly, then BREAKS the Guard's 
	sword, dropping the pieces and turning his back on Albrecht, who
	pursues Eric to: 

	INT. SPIRAL STAIRCASE - TO BELL TOWER - NIGHT

	The crow FLAPS UPWARD through the void.  Eric grabs the thick
	bellrope, testing it.  A final look to Albrecht.

				ERIC
		Don't interfere.

				ALBRECHT
		You're bleeding, man.  You can't
		make it.

	Eric shinnies up the bellrope, ignoring Albrecht.

	ON ALBRECHT

	Watching as Eric dissappears from view, fast..  Grumbles.

				ALBRECHT
		You won't mind if I just take the
		stairs, then, smartass...

	He hefts his arsenal bag of hardware and begins to plod up the
	steps.

	ANGLE - MOVING WITH ERIC ON THE ROPE -- A weird perspective of
	speed climb.  Zip!  All the way to the top.

	EXT - CHURCH ROOF - NIGHT

	Slanted, shingled, slippery, dark.  Lightning deep in the turbid
	clouds.  The crow circles as Eric RISES INTO FRAME.

				ERIC
		Here I am.

	DOWNFRAME lightning STRIKES the ornate LIGHTNING ROD (large,
	Victorian, lance-like) at the far end of the roof from the bell
	tower.

	SILHOUETTING Lao and Elly standing in front of it.  Elly
	flinches at the strike.

				LAO
		Can you fly, Crow man?

	INT. BELLTOWER SPIRAL STAIRS - RESUMING ALBRECHT

	He stops his ascent to light a cigarette.

				ALBRECHT
		I ain't cut out for this superhero
		shit.

	EXT. CHURCH ROOF - RESUMING LAO - NIGHT

	Lao SNAPS Elly's free handcuff to the dimly glowing  lightning
	rod and advances, one foot on either side of the peak of the
	roof, his blade brandished.

	CLOSE MOVING SHOT - ERIC -- Hands up to grapple, but
	weaponless.  He spiders to meet Lao, suddenly PICKING UP SPEED
	and RUNNING along the precarious peak.

	Lao sees him coming, braces to strike, but Eric executes a BROAD
	FLYING LEAP right over Lao's head.

	ERIC LANDS, SLIPS, sprawls sideways, clinging to the peak of the
	roof.  Lao hurries in to slash with the blade, as Eric averts.
	The steel RINGS.  Eric converts his dodge into a low spin kick
	that DUMPS Lao.

	Eric SPREAD-EAGLES to keep from falling.  Distantly, Lao
	similarly saves himself.

	NEW ANGLE -- THE FIGHT -- Here comes Lao, crabbing back toward
	the peak.  Eric ROLLS to Elly's position, GRABS the lightning
	rod and tries to wrest it loose.

	SIZZLE OF FLESH as Eric's hands are scorched: the metal is still
	blue-hot.

	MOVING WITH LAO as Eric battles to free the lightning rod.  Lao
	closes up distance, gives a warcry and prepares to swing as - 

	Eric WRENCHES the rod loose and turns to deflect Lao's blow.
	The weapons spark as they meet... and there goes Elly, her
	handcuff freed, SLIDING DOWN THE ROOF SLOPE.

	ANGLE  -- ROOF SLOPE -- WITH ERIC  as he dodges Lao by using the
	lightning rod to vault down to where Elly is about to slip off
	the roof.

	With the rod embedded in the roof, Eric hangs on, and elly hangs 
	on to Eric.

	UP ANGLE -- LAO, a dark figure against the night sky, raising
	the sword.

				LAO
		Face me!

	Eric guides Elly to the top of one of the flying buttresses.
	When he looks up, Lao is gone.

	ANGLE - BELL TOWER -- Albrecht's head pokes up at last.  Looks
	around, finally spots Eric below and to the left.  YELLS, serio-comic.

				ALBRECHT
		Is he dead yet?

	INSERT - ALBRECHT'S HOLSTER as Lao's hand draws Albrecht's
	gun quickly.

	ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND LAO --Lao has blindsided Albrecht.

				LAO
		No.  You are.

	He jams the gun into the base of ALbrecht's neck and fires three times.

	CLOSE ANGLE - ERIC - He's too far away to matter.  Shock.

	INSERT - ALBRECHT'S CIGARETTE as it rolls down the slope,
	trailing sparks, snuffing out.

	ANGLE - ERIC holding onto the lightning rod as lightning CUTS the
	night above him.

	ANGLE -- LAO AT BELL TOWER, triumphant and a bit wild, SHOUTING.
				LAO
		You've caused another death,
		Mister Draven!  The girl will die
		as well -- because of you!

	ANGLE - ELLY ON FLYING BUTTRESS

	The base of a triangle - Lao, Eric, Elly.

				ELLY
		You go to hell, you pervert!

	RESUME ERIC

	Rage over the loss of Albrecht.  He RISES, hurting but mad as
	hell.  GLARES UP toward Lao.

				ERIC
		And how many lives have you destroyed?

				LAO
		I took yours from you.  Your
		little girlfriend?  I took hers,
		too.  Your meaningless, petty
		life?  I took it so that tonight
		your existence might gain a
		purpose.  You're no avenger.
		You're mine.

	PUSH IN TIGHT ON ERIC.

	Eyes alight with hatred for Lao.

				ERIC
			 (to himself)
		You're right, I'm not an avenger. 
		Not any more.

	As lightning strikes, Eric Fires his gaze TOWARD THE SKY.

	HIGH ANGLE - LAO ON ROOFTOP - ("CROWVISION")

	SEEING the crash dive toward Lao through the row's eyes.

	ANGLE  - LAO ON ROOFTOP

	As the crow wings down INTO FRAME and lights on Lao's head, CLAWING!

	CLOSE-UP -- THE CROW ON LAO'S HEAD slashing with its claws.
	Pecking out Lao's eyes.

	WITH ERIC -- on the roofslope as he totters but maintains his
	climb, the crow/Lao UPFRAME B.G.

	RESUME LAO -- as the crow abandons him.  Lao STAGGERS AND FALLS
	down the roof - toward Eric.
	SLANTED ANGLE -- ERIC AND LAO -- Eric ARRESTS Lao's fall,
	fisting lapels and bringing him nose to nose.  Fury.

				ERIC
		Time for a sacrifice.

	Lao's face is a hideous bloody mask with black holes where the
	eyes used to be.  He smiles gruesomely.

				LAO
		I don't need eyes to take what I
		want from you.

	He EMBRACES Eric and RAMS the killing blade deep into Eric's
	back!

	ON ERIC as he looks down to see the blade protruding from his
	sternum.  Tight grimace.  A lot of pain.

				ERIC
		Can you fly?

	He pulls Lao into a BACKWARD ROLL down the roof, HOLDING HIM
	TIGHT.

	MOVING ANGLE -- INTERCUTS -- ERIC AND LAO FALL

	Eric lands on his back, forcing the blade THROUGH himself and
	INTO Lao.  Eric completes the roll and KICKS Lao off INTO SPACE,
	the killing blade still embedded in him!

	WITH LAO as crashes, sliding, sprawling down PAST Elly's
	position.  Gets to his knees atop the flying buttress.  Sees the
	blade in his own chest.

	CLOSE-UP - ELLY - she sees it all happen.

	RESUME LAO - a regretful look toward Eric.  He PLUMMETS off the 
	roof edge.

	ANGLE - ERIC SLIDES DOWN ROOF --  He slows, stopping when Elly
	is in frame.  He clutches his own chest.  Regards his own
	shaking hand, drenched in his won blood.  Glazed.

	ON ELLY, as she finally gets the duct tape off her mouth, trying
	to get to Eric.  She flails and cries out.

				ELLY
		Don't let me fall!

	CLOSE-UP -- their hands finally meet and GRASP TIGHT.

	EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (LATER) (RAIN)

	A low angle TRACKING SHOT (as when we first met Elly).

	Eric's and Elly's feet pass graves.  Eric's pace is slow, crippled, 
	limping.  They STOP at a grave where elly BENDS INTO FRAME to steal 
	the flowers there.

	Eric is bloody and out of it.  She helps him walk.

				ELLY
		Now do you get to see her? Shelly, I mean.

				ERIC
		In a better place.  I hope.

				ELLY
		You're not gonna come back, are you?

	Eric's response is halting and uncertain.  But he tries to give
	her hope.  He reaches for Shelly's ring around her neck, holds
	it up to her.

				ERIC
		I don't know if I can.  But you
		have this... and you know where to come.

				ELLY
		You mean you'll, like' dig your way
		out of the grave?  Euww.

	Eric is amused by this in spite of his grievous injuries.

	He grasps Elly's face in his hands and bends, painfully,to kiss
	her on the forehead.

				ERIC
		For you, I'll try.  Promise.

	MOVE WITH ERIC

	Spent, empty, he holds the rose determinedly, but he's never
	going to make it the few yards back to his own grave.  So close.

	His legs finally go and he collapses onto the humus.  One
	groping hand tries to drag him further.

				ERIC
		Leave me now.

	ANGLE - ELLY

	Tears on her face.  She can't watch this.  She TURNS and drops
	the flowers on Shelly's grave.

	ERIC'S POV - HIS OWN GRAVE

	Still too far away to matter.

	RESUME ERIC ON GROUND

	He gives it up, his face sinking into the wet grass for a beat
	before SHELLY'S HAND intrudes INTO FRAME to GRASP his hand.

	No ethereal glow, no heavenly choir... just a near-dead Eric's
	blank-faced astonishment, and he moves forward.

	ANGLE - ELLY - SHELLY'S GRAVE BG

	She struggles to get her hood up against the rain and roughly
	wipes the moisture from her face with her sleeve.  She turns
	toward Eric's grave.  Then, surprised, she looks close.

	ANGLE - ERIC'S GRAVE

	Eric is gone.  The white rose lies neatly on the top of the
	undisturbed  earth there.

	HIGH ANGLE - CEMETERY

	Emphasizing that Elly is now ALONE in the graveyard.

	LOW ANGLE on Elly, ROSE in the foreground --

	She walks OFF.  HOLD the rose.

							CUT TO:

	INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY (OVERCAST)

	A grey day but no rain.  Elly stands wistfully by the window,
	her doll on standby.  The apartment is in order and perhaps we
	notice a few new items.  Gabriel the cat, miraculously ALIVE, is
	sprawled on a chair, licking himself.  Darla BUSTLES INTO FRAME
	B.G.  Her wardrobe more upscale, her hair done.  Her manner is
	hectic but natural.

				DARLA
		Worktime, kiddo.  First day, new
		job, gotta go.

	This does not get the expected smile from Elly.

				DARLA (CONT'D)
		You sure you're gonna be okay?

	Elly turns from the window and NODS silently.

	ELLY'S POV - OUTSIDE

	The aforementioned grey day in the city.

	ANGLE - DARLA AND ELLY AT THE WINDOW.

	Darla comes up.  Arm around Elly.  Cheer up; he attitude much
	more connected and loving.  PUSH IN ON ELLY so we know she is
	clutching SHelly's ring tightly in her hand.  Darla looks past
	Elly, out the window.

				DARLA
		At least it finally stopped
		raining.

				ELLY
		It can't rain all the time.

	Darla kisses Elly on the temple and it out the door.  Elly OPENS
	her hand to consider the ring.  She looks back out the window --

	ANGLE - THE CROW ON THE LEDGE

	Elly is looking right at it.  Same crow.  We're positive.  So is
	Elly.  It TAKES WING and flies away.

	EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

	An UP ANGLE from Eric's grave toward the tree as the crow FLIES
	INTO FRAME and perches there, shucking water.  PUSH IN on the
	crow.  Watching.  Waiting.

							SLOW FADE TO DEAD BLACK. 

							THE END