#give me crunchy leaves and cloudy skies

[wxywardsun]

Supernatural truly peaked with its earlier seasons I mean just take a minute to think about it! All the grain,the deep colors,that odd feeling of nostalgia watching the earlier episodes (I get that a lot when I see episodes from the early seasons and I still don’t know how to explain it). It’s just something about the way it always looks like it’s autumn,it’s probably a little chilly out and there’s always some unexpected thing that goes bump in the night. Midwest gothic incarnate and that’s what I love!

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #5

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Iolite of Cloudy Skies

Iolite. Its Japanese name was “blue flower stone”. The gem was blue with a purple tint stronger than that of a sapphire and had a unique viscosity that made it seem as if it was coated with a bit of dew. The level of hardness was seven. It was called iolite when treated as a gemstone, but when treated as a type of mineral, it was also called cordierite. It was an eccentric stone, which also appeared to have a grayish brown color instead of blue depending on the angle that one looked at it. Etc., etc.

“What happened, Seigi? Your eyes are dead.”

“How can I put it...? Surfeit, I guess.”

“Haah?”

I couldn’t memorize the stones’ names. They were too many.

The client who left just now had come because they wanted to see many sorts of blue stones, so Richard’s treasure box was packed with a great variety of blues. There were sapphires, of course, and also tanzanites, lapis lazuli, blue chalcedonies and this iolite.

Half a year before I had started working part-time in Etranger, the image I had of gemstones was limited to things such as diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds, I believed. Now I knew about the existence of a stone named zircon, which shone in the same way as a diamond, and also knew about the spinel, which was red like a ruby, as well as that the color of sapphires was not just blue, having a wide range from purple to yellow, and I had seen transparent jades that were impossible to tell apart from emeralds.

If I had as much knowledge of minerals as Tanimoto-san, I would’ve managed to sort stones inside my head by the differences the in chemical composition of each, but unfortunately, I was unfamiliar with such things, and I currently didn’t have enough enthusiasm or willpower to study them. If I were to explain figuratively, it felt like going out to hunt for clams at a beach, and when you innocently dove into the lake, you’d see the Mariana Trench spreading out below. It was a beautiful world, thus also too wide and too deep. And endless. To a terrifying extent.

When I told him roughly this, Richard laughed, the depths of his throat trembling with giggles. “It is not as if you are aiming to obtain a GIA or FGA qualification or anything, right? Isn’t it all right for you to observe as much as you like?”

“That might be the case, but...”

I found myself thinking that it was a waste.

After all, I’d be on my knees listening as Richard went, in earnest, through the trouble of introducing all kinds of stones to me one by one. I often heard from my senpais that “job hunting is a connection for people”, so I felt sorry that my connection with stones remained scoreless. Regardless, it wasn’t like I was suddenly going to get any smarter.

As I said this, Richard laughed again and beckoned me with a hand gesture. He then took something out of his suit’s pocket. One of those subdivision vinyl bags that I’d often see when he was handling jewels in the back room. It seemed there was an iolite inside. There was a label stuck to the bag packed with absorbent cotton, and something was written on it in horizontal letters. “Viking sunstone,” it read. Vikings? Like the ones that you’d imagine wearing horned helmets, carrying axes and coming from the sea on a ship? As I asked for confirmation, the jeweler nodded with a “precisely”.

“The words written on this label are associated with the former ‘purpose’ of the iolite. In the past, people used iolites as sun stones.”

“‘Used’ them as ‘sun stones’...?”

I didn’t understand anything from A to Z. What did that mean? For starters, why was gem of such a cold-looking color made into a stone of the sun?

Before I even had a breach to ask, the beautiful shopkeeper began talking, a smile ghosting his lips, “You might already know this, but a portion of the people residing in the current Britain are descendants of those who went through the Norman Conquest that began around the ninth century - in other words, of the Vikings. They were famous for having the skills to travel long distances, which was unusual at the time, so Seigi. If you were someone who travels the sea for long periods, how would you know your way?” Richard asked me.

A means to know the cardinal directions in the open sea. So it was a situation where there’d be no piece of land to act as a mark. The only thing I could use in such a case was a magnet. No, wait. Richard had said earlier that it was the ninth century. The compass would be invented only much later. I recalled memorizing that this was the invention that triggered the Age of Discovery back in high school for history class. If so, I recalled the words on the label. “Sunstone”. Yeah, it connected.

“They knew the directions by using the stone of the sun?”

“Good for you. Exactly. Isn’t it clear?”

“K-Kinda!”

“Then, what about under cloudy skies, when the sun is not visible, Mr. Enlightened Part-Timer?”

Speaking of which, the weather changed easily at sea. I had also heard that England was a country where the skies tended to be overcast. Bad weather must be frequent in those coastal waters. If the sky stayed cloudy for three or four days, what should I do? Was there nothing more that could be done at sea?

When I made a puzzled face, Richard smiled as though he had hit the nail on the head, his white hands displaying the iolite under a fluorescent light. “For instance, let’s try to put a mark on any of this iolite’s faceted sides with ink. Another one on a different side. On sunny days, we would record in which direction we can see the sun from one of these two points at given times, and on cloudy days, we would look for parts where the two points overlap. When doing so, since this stone can detect even the faintest light, we would be able to tell the sun’s position,” he said.

“So we can know the position of light with that stone...? Then couldn’t it be any other stone?”

“Light refracts. If it were passing through thick clouds, the human eye would find its shine in a different direction from the sun’s actual position. Iolites acted as polarized lenses, so to speak. By using this stone, the sailors could tell the correct position of the sun. Yet the most famous sunstone is not iolite, but a type of refraction stone called ‘Iceland spar’.”

A polarized lens. Now he was talking about physics? But I did remember the stuff about light refraction. Got it; so that was why it was a “stone of the sun”.

“I don’t get it very well, but I feel the gemstone romance from it. I like that kinda thing,” I said enthusiastically, Richard giving me a calm smile.

“You do get it. Just as you said, you ‘don’t understand stones very well but like them either way’. That is exactly why your eyes were open, so you thought only about how far your destination was and felt your teeth set on edge at it. You mustn’t expect to be able to understand everything overnight. Go steady, without rushing. Do not waver at the impatience stuck back-to-back to your ambitions. That is different from having no one to depend on due to not knowing where you are headed. The hardest times are probably the ones when you have no idea where you should go, but you know the exact position of the sun.”

So, in short, I knew exactly where I wanted to be?

While I remained quiet, Richard shrugged and added, “Of course, this is a metaphor. Even if little by little, the stones should definitely be leaving a trace inside you. Aren’t you supposed to be treasuring this instead of chasing after what goes away?”

Lastly, Richard threw in the trivia that, in the world of power stones, the iolite was said to be a stone that showed people the “right direction”. Taking the backbone of it into consideration, that was indeed a convincing talk. But more than that...

“It’d be great if you were by my side forever.”

“Hah?”

“You’re an expert at noticing what’s troubling other people, aren’t you? I really think you’re a handy guy, like a compass. Aah, ‘the world’s most beautiful compass’, huh?”

“Those are quite irrational words, on top of being illogical. You were born in Japan, raised in Japan and aspire to become a public servant of Japan, so why are you calling an English jeweler a ‘compass’?”

“Well, I don’t plan to ask you about how to prepare for the public servant exams, but I can rely on you when I run into bigger problems, right?”

Richard sighed with a face of thorough dismay. I could understand how he felt. This was like a child in nursery school saying, “It’d be great if my teacher could always be there to help me out.” Long story short, I was acting spoiled. Even though he was my superior at work.

“That’s right; about the custard pie that today’s costumer brought, it looks like it’s quick to expire. Wanna eat it? I’ll make some tea.”

“If you would. Aah, the sugar...”

“Holding back on it this month, right? I know.”

“Help me with half of it. The amount of sugar in it concerns me.”

“Leave it to me.”

This guy was truly good at leading the mood around, and the same applied for the not-too-straightforward way that he phrased himself when recommending gemstones to the customers. Apparently, he thought I was feeling down.

I cut the crunchy pie in half while the tea leaves boiled, then shared it with Richard in the reception room and we both ate it. Covered with powdered sugar, the pie was a dangerous white little thing, as the colorless powder could scatter around from the pie’s surface just by us breathing on it a tiny bit, so the snack time turned into a moment of silence. I felt like laughing at the much too surreal sight several times, but if I happened to cause a big damage to the beautiful shopkeeper’s high-grade suit by doing that, my pay would be reduced. In the end, I ate the pie entirely while looking at the wall.

On the way back home that day, as I looked up at the night sky, I thought about the Vikings of over a thousand years ago. It was said that they were after new lands. What about me? Where was I headed? Would there ever be a day when I would fall into a philosophical concern, like, “I have no idea where I’m trying to go”? Perhaps Richard too? I insolently prayed that the stones may help us out at least in times like those.

Stars were beginning to twinkle in the purplish-blue night sky. There was no doubt that the stars appearing in the sky had not changed ever since the Vikings’ era. Thinking about that as I walked, I mistook one of the streets I should have turned. I had the feeling that I heard Richard’s voice, telling me to mind at least my own steps. I get it, geez.

I decided to wait patiently for the benefits of the stone. It was best for something like that not to happen, but there was no guarantee that both of us wouldn’t lose our ways at the same time one day.

[100-yardstare]

I guess I know how George R* Mart*n feels because I can never finish any of my fics anymore!

I started writing this fic when SW EP 7 came out... in 2015. I never touched it again. It was about my OC Sarai and Steven. Since I’m probably never going to finish it I wanted to at least post it here for archival reasons. Feel free to read if you like!

Summary: The son of a deceased Resistance pilot, Steven Weatfield seeks refuge on the moon of Pantora with his living father in an attempt to escape the horrors of war and participation with the Resistance against the First Order. However, balance and fate seem to follow them when a Jedi, lost among the corridors of time for unknown circumstances, reminds him of his mission, and his mothers sacrifice.

Word Count: 2,962

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS

War never ends. It has been twenty-seven years since the rebellion’s triumphant victory over the Death Star, and likewise, the end of Darth Sidious and Darth Vader. However, the New Republic’s struggles are not yet over. The First Order has risen, and again, is spreading disorder upon the galaxy, forcing General Leia to build up a Resistance to push back further destruction. Casualties are always a factor, and even for the Resistance, the death toll and injured have recently reached peaks that were unforeseen. The sudden and dramatic losses have frightened large numbers of surviving resistance soldiers.

Steven Wheatfield, former trainee of the Resistance, has since resigned by desire of his surviving father. They are attempting to stay out of the conflict at all costs, currently residing in a small rural settlement on the moon of Pantora…

. . . . . . .

 “In a world covered by endless water… the people of the Republic were driven to create artificial solders for war. This war was spreading through quickly— so quickly, it was soon leaving no portion of the galaxy untouched by its strife! But these two forces were not equal by all means. Yes, droid and clone were similar as fierce soldiers, each having their own distinct advantages, and likewise Sith leaders Count Dooku, and other such foes provided their means within the Separatists army. But! Leading the Republic’s armies, among the thousands of brilliant clone soldiers, was the Jedi!”

A series of sarcastic beeps came from a R6 unit after the long introduction, whose small chirps seemed to bounce off the snowy field and into the tall toupee colored grasses surrounding. A couple of crunchy footsteps would cease at that moment, as Steven stopped walking, and telling his story for that matter.

“What are you talking about, Wheatles?!” Steven cried, who so abruptly turned around at the moment of his R6 units bickering. “Of course the Jedi were important! Now would you please let me continue my story? The Jedi lead the Republic’s armies; they carried the torch that spread throughout the galaxy, and pushed back the dark, and those who came their way.”

The droid spat out another set of beeps, carrying with it the most unpleasant of sounds, which in return caused Steven’s face to blush pink.

“Y-You moof-milker!” Steven yelled. “The history of the Clone Wars is not useless! In fact, it just goes to show you why the Republic failed in the first place. From the corruption in the senate all the way to the very battles themselves that took place—they all were important!”  

Steven paused for a moment to gather himself, soon his flush of color leaving his face. “I’ll bet if Jedi were still around…” His face relaxed, a little too much even, as his eyebrows rose up in a loathsome furrow. With this, his voice fell in depth, sending even more of his hot breath into the icy Pantoran air.

“If the Jedi were here, like they were then, maybe this war would already be over. Maybe… maybe Mum would be…”

                A sudden gust pushed through the field, sending a dust of snow off the ground and into the air like powder. After the gust settled, a soft wave of snow began to fall—so soft that you barely noticed the moment it fell upon your lashes.  

               “The Jedi fought alongside the clone army for three years… And they would have done it too. They would have won. But… they’re gone now.” Steven paused, only shortly to express a gentle sigh. “You don’t think… those kinds of things are myths, do you?”

The R6 unit softly spoke up with a simple, long beep, which was by far significantly calmer than any of its other comments were beforehand. The droid’s head centered itself as his back legs lowered a tad.  This caused Steven to stare down at his droid companion, soon his sorrowful look diminishing from the droid’s obvious apology.

               “Thank you, Wheatles,” Steven remarked. He sighed deeply before saying, “come on. We better get you home before it starts snowing any harder. I know how much you hate walking through the stuff.”

               Steven turned around to start walking his droid along the path they had been traveling down for some time. In the far distance a small village and a distribution of independent properties could be seen. From their chimneys, smoke from fires within all of the homes scattered about the landmass reached high into the skies like fingers stretching from a cloudy palm. This scenery, although lovely in its own way, still was strange to Steven. It wasn’t particularly the cold landscape, or the smallness of it all, but more rather how quiet it was. Steven was used to busy bustling of resistance soldiers, the sound of engines starting from all varieties of ships, and sometimes even the occasional laser shooting practice. Steven was used to getting his hands dirty in engine oil and grime, and the strain in his arms from piloting ships. To say the least, it was like he was out of his element. It wasn’t the same.

               Steven first anticipated turning around and staying out in the field longer. That or he figured he’d might as well go off the trail and see what he could find out in the tall grasses of Pantora. Who knows? Maybe he would find some parts lying around or something interesting at least. He’d rather spend his time out in the cold then going back. Sitting around, doing nothing? No, that wasn’t his thing. Especially since sitting around or doing even simple chores required him to listen to his father mumble under his breath all the time; he made the sheer air in the room feel heavy. There wasn’t a day that went by that wasn’t quite otherwise.

               Steven suddenly grumbled to himself, which wasn’t like him. He liked keeping a positive attitude, but this—this feeling—was getting redundant.

               “I could just take my ship and fly off somewhere, ya know, Wheatles?” Steven spoke aloud. “We could fly right out of here and somewhere out there. Ya, that would be brilliant, wouldn’t it? But he says otherwise.”

               Wheatles gave off a sigh sound in response. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get Steven to cheer up some. Agreeing with Steven always seemed to help.

               “Ya! That’s right! Can you imagine it? Steven and his loyal droid, Sir Wheatles, off into the galaxy! We need a team name though. Wheatles, maybe you should write this down—”

               Before Steven could continue, his eye caught a glimpse of something in the sky at the opposite end of the field from where the village was. At first he figured it was a mere speck of floating black dust that just looked like something, but it was indeed something this time.

               Steven focused more sternly on the object in the sky now, realizing that it was ablaze as it fell through the planets atmosphere. As it drew closer to the ground, he was beginning to realize it was a ship. He didn’t react until the ship plummeted into the ground some two-miles away. After its obvious crash, was when he had a delayed response.

               “Hell!” Steven yelled. “Did you see that? Did you see the ship fall from the bloody sky?!”

               His droid was quiet as Steven began fanning his face uncontrollably. This was unbelievable. Well—it was believable in the sense that it happened all the time, but not here. Not for them.

               “We gotta go check it out!” was Steven’s next bright idea. His droid beeped a few times, indicating its own distress, but this didn’t seem to give Steven any second thoughts. “Who knows what that was? It could be a resistance ship for all we know! Somebody needs our help!”

               Steven started running. He started running for so far and so long that Wheatles was a good few paces behind him by the time they crawled over the little hill that lead them to the crash site.

               The landscape from one side of the hill, and to the other, was quite drastic. A decent sized indention had been marked in the ground on the other side from impact. The trail that the fallen ship had left from hitting the ground, and then having skated across the dried tan grasses, was black and covered in soot. Some of the stalks of grass further to the side that had not been completely crushed had some traces of embers, whose glow, thankfully, did not increase in size for the time being.

               To say the least, Steven was ecstatic. But he was also cautious. The ship didn’t look resistance, at least a type that he was used to seeing. It seemed to have an old design, from what parts he could distinguish what was left of it. The ship overall was so jumbled that it was hard to tell. The metal was obviously still hot on the outside, which caused a steam to escape from its structure and into the cold air.

               “Should we check it out?” Steven asked his droid, who had just a second earlier made it beside him to join him in his stare at the crashed space ship.

               Steven seemed to answer himself rather quickly. “Yeah, let’s check it out!” he exclaimed excitedly, and rushed down the little hill and up towards the ship. He stopped only when he was close enough to feel the warmth from the crash site. With narrowed eyes he tried to look through the rising dust and soot through his glasses, scanning the area before him as much and as diligently as he could to make sure there was nobody about.

               But even with his careful eye, he could see nothing.

               “Whoa, Wheatles, you don’t suppose… anyone survived this?” Steven asked out loud. From the outward diagnostics of the ship, it seemed someone could have survived. It was wrecked, sure, but it wasn’t so wrecked that anyone within couldn’t have found a way to take cover to land. But still, he couldn’t be too careful.

               R6 beeped a few times, which caused Steven’s attention to fall back onto his droid.

               “Tell Dad? Are you joking?” Steven scoffed. “The first sign of any sort of ship crashing on Pantora, especially around him, is just asking for us to be relocated. We can’t tell him.”

               The metal creaked then, causing what sounded like movement from the inside of the ship. Steven’s head seemed to snap back upward once the sound hit his ears, realizing then from his prior suspicions that someone must be in there. He wasn’t sure what to do, in all honesty. Someone’s life was very much on the line potentially, and he felt the need to be there for them once they stepped out of that ship. But another thought crossed his mind: what if they weren’t friendly? What if this ship was First Order, and he didn’t even realize it?

               The odds seemed slim that it was First Order, based on the ships design, but the thought came to him regardless. He hunkered down, only a bit, but soon realized that doing so wasn’t going to stop him from being spotted. Instead, he kept his stance firm, waited, and listened.

               Creaks and paces were heard for a few seconds longer until the door was triggered to open. At first, nothing walked out of the crumpled ship. Inside there was only darkness, which indicated that the vessel had lost power just as it had crashed. A few sparks from deep inside the ship could be seen, but sill, he waited…

               Staring wide-eyed by then, Steven watched as a figure walked limply out of the doorway. As it came into the Pantoran light, he saw it was a togruta female. Instantly, he became relieved of a First Order threat, but from this a new question arose. Her outfit was strange, and almost foreign to him. It wasn’t anything togruta typically wore. Instead, it was a grey and white tunic. The first thing that slid into his train of thought then, was…

               “No, it couldn’t be,” Steven muttered to himself. He had read many of Republic documents of the Jedi Knights. Their attire seemed to match what this woman was wearing, but… it seemed too coincidental. Seemingly, his thoughts of fairytales diminished once he saw her fall to her knees, and collapse backwards onto the icy grasses.

               R6 spilled out a series of worried beeps the second she hit the ground. Steven, on the other hand, rushed up towards her as quickly as his legs could take him. Once he was next to her, he kneeled down by her side, and lifted her head into his lap. He immediately checked for any signs that she wasn’t breathing, her pulse, and her overall state. But, she was fine.

               Steven sighed again once he noticed she was still alive. “Thank God. She’s all right. Wheatles, no need to worry. I’m sure she’s just shaken from the crash. Although I’d suggest we try and get her somewhere to rest.”

               R6 responded positively to Steven’s suggestions, and came by Steven once again to further inspect the togruta woman. The both of them didn’t really know what to do at that moment. It had been a long while since they had come into contact with any other races besides the Pantoran’s and the occasional human that passed by in order to get to the Pantoran Capital. Should they even ask questions? Should they still treat her as if she was a threat?

               Out of habit from his resistance training, Steven looked over the woman further. Her purple skin tone seemed to clash with the idea of all, or at least a vast majority, of togruta being of rustic, orange-like tones. Her head tails and montrals were also relatively grown in, indicating she couldn’t have been older than in her mid-twenties. Alike all other togruta, or those who have at least proven themselves as warriors to their people, she bore a Akul Tooth headdress, made of a black band with the golden, triangular shaped teeth attached to it. Her robe itself, on the other hand, seemed to bring more surprises. Steven looked down at her beltline, realizing that attached, was…

               “A lightsaber?” Steven’s blue eyes seemed to lighten up with a sparkle. “No, it couldn’t be…”

               Steven looked back at the woman’s face, noticing her eyes were still closed, and then back down at the lightsaber. If it was actually a lightsaber, he wasn’t 100% sure, but it looked like one, and certainly mimicked every detail he had ever read about them in the Jedi lore and Republic history text he had indulged in so much growing up.

               Almost like a child, his hands reached down towards the mysterious weapon, his fingers only delicately touching the carved metal of gold and silver before he was suddenly struck across the cheek.

               Instant alert spilled from R6, as the both of them realized she had awoken. The togruta pushed Steven violently away from her, and then came to a stand, one of her hands clutching the weapon at her beltline tightly as she glared at both of them.

               “Who are you!?” she yelled.

               “Look, we mean you no harm! I was just—” Steven attempted to explain, sending his arms in the air as if to say he was unarmed, and very much of no danger.

               “I said, who are you!?” the girl fussed again. The situation was growing tenser by the minute, and so Steven realized attempting to prove his innocence wasn’t nearly as important as saying who he was.

               “I’m Steven Wheatfield! This is my R6 until, Wheatles! We’re just settlers on Pantora…”

               “Pantora?” The girl’s voice rose significantly in her question. It was as if she was baffled she was even there. “The Empire then… are they in this area?”

               “Empire?”

               “Don’t play dumb with me, Steven. The Empire has taken control of all previous Republic systems. Tell me where the Empire establishments are located on this planet!”

               “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about because the Empire hasn’t existed for… well over two decades.”

               The togruta girl’s dark eyes widened, as if replacing a physical gasp. Again, she was baffled, in a state of disbelief and confusion. Her legs looked like they wanted to stumble, but her strong stance caught her.

               “The Empire hasn’t existed in over two decades?” she repeated, as if saying it out loud would help her bring it to reality. “Then what of the Inquisitors? The Stormtrooper armies? Darth Vader? The purge?”

               “What are you talking about?” Steven’s panicked emotions were escaping him now, and he was starting to become more empathetic to the stranger in front of him. “What’s an inquisitor? The Stormtroopers… we’ll they aren’t exactly Empire anymore. And Darth Vader is…” he paused, his calmed worried eyes settling into her distraught gaze. “Darth Vader is dead.”

               “What?” Her words fell out of her, softly, as if everything she knew was suddenly gone. By looking at her, everything was gone. She seemed scared, isolated, and without a clue as to what to do.

               Steven remained on the ground, realizing the situation had taken a complex turn. He eyed her first, head to toe, taking in her features as if it was yet again the first time he had seen her before.

               “…Who are you?” Steven asked softly.

               The girl looked to the ground, and then to her hands. Her eyes would shut tightly for a split second, as if her mind had taken her elsewhere; searching, wondering…

               “My name is Sarai Daan. I am a Jedi.”

[stealmyjoygivemeapen-blog]

Frank and The Murder

EXT. CEDARTREE FOREST - NIGHT

Light snow falls from the grey sky. Crunchy leaves decorate the mossy, wet ground, and there is a frosty chill to the air.

A COUPLE; one WOMAN, 21, with blonde hair, full bright lips and wearing a hooded cloak, and one MAN: a Wizard wearing a blue hat with a celestial pattern of the stars and ultimate power of the universe and a satin robe stands in the center of the Cedartree Forest holding a wrapped bundle in a brown hand-woven basket whispering amongst themselves.

ALICIA I can not allow you to corrupt our son with your magic.

ALBUS Corruption? How dare you?

ALICIA He will be nothing like you if I have to see to it, that you never see him again!

ALBUS How dare you betray me like this? He is my son! Bonded with me through our love! We made him and he will be far more powerful then a mere human! You can not just go away and take him from me! Please!

ALICIA I'm sorry, Albus. But I can't allow him to become like you. Promise me, you won't hurt me as I walk away. Promise me you'll let him grow to be the man he should be.

ALBUS It gives me great anger to make a promise like this. But one day, I will come back for him. He is my son and he deserves to know the truth. What you took from us, from him, and how you betrayed us all. Alicia, I will have my revenge on you.

ETX. CENTRAL PARK - SHED - NIGHT (Present Day) Under cloudy skies the leaves shed red and orange leaves.

FRANK, 22, with a sprouting mustache and dirty jeans, CLUNKS around. Frank holds a dim flashlight. He reaches for a tool box. The SOFT BUZZ of the dying batteries mix with the gnats. Franks feet SHUFFLE. CLANK. He kicks something metal. Frank flinches and he SQUEALS for a second, then regains calmness.

Frank looks around. Frank walks to the old, brown rotting wooden table where his grounds-keeper equipment lies and trades a baseball bat for a paintbrush.

An owl HOOTS nearby.

Frank jumps startled.

FRANK Fucking nocturnal creatures. Don't they know it's already creepy enough without their laughter?

Frank SHUFFLES out the RATTLING shed doors to the rocky, walking path. Frank grumbles to himself on the way.

FRANK (CONT'D) Just seems like my job isn't needed is all. I cover up all the bullshit and the fuckery but in the morning it'll just up and appear as if I never existed, never did my god damned job. Why the fuck do I bother?

Graffiti filled benches scatter throughout the park. In big bold letters: FUCK is spray-painted all over the bench.

Frank hums. He taps his fingers, sighs and paints long strokes covering the obscenities, until the bench looks good as new.

FRANK (CONT'D) Rain drops keep falling on my head dum, dum, dum.

Frank gives his handiwork one last look over.

But that doesn't mean my eyes...

A scream.

Frank stops humming.

Frank throws the brush down. Frank grabs his bat. Frank takes off into the tree line. Frank runs in the direction of the SCREAMS.

EXT. WOOD LINE- NIGHT

Frank runs through the trees.

Branches catch on his clothes. The thorns tear through his pants. His feet slosh through the mud.

The HIGH PITCHED SCREAMING was getting LOUDER every second Frank drew nearer.

FRANK Where is it? I just heard it heard it a moment ago!

Frank continues to run to where the screaming is.

Silence.

ALICIA A woman, 43, with blonde hair, full lips and wearing a bloodied blue sweater lay trembling.

Chocking.

CHOCKING on her blood.

Chocking.

Still. Silence.

Silent.

A shadow moves near.

FRANK SCREAMS. Oh, my God! Get off of her you freak!

HENRY, 20, shirtless, ribs exposed -anorexic, sat on his knees hunched over the woman, eating her stomach.

Frank grabs at Henry's shoulder and spins him around to see Henry's face covered in RED blood.

Good God! What's wrong with you?

Henry lunges at Frank. GARGLES are coming from his throat. He swings his arms and tries to grab Frank.

HENRY I'm so... Hungry! I need flesh, blood, cells, warmth! Come here and let me eat YOU! I'm so cold. Frank grabs at his chest and gasps. His eyes flicker from one side to the other.

FRANK I'm getting too old for this shit.

In a swift movement, Henry chases Frank a few steps before tripping and falling on his face.

HENRY I'm just so hungry. It's not my fault. I wasn't born like this. Someone did this to me. I'm sorry I did this to YOU. You have to understand.

EXT. WOOD LINE- NIGHT

Frank stands over Henry. Frank listens. Frank's face scrunches up at the forehead. Frank Watches Henry struggle to his SHAKING legs. Frank looks at the ANOREXIC Henry.

Frank turns away, holding his sleeve tighter on his open cut where a gash was oozing blood.

Henry grabs Franks' leg and Franks' bat CRACKS against Henry's exposed rib cage. Henry is out cold.

EXT. DIRT PATH

Frank drags Henry by his foot through a dirt path. Running fast. You'd better not wake up, you bastard!

Frank arrives at a house, takes out a key and unlocks the door. Frank drags Henry in and bonds Henry to a chair with rope in sailor knots.

INT. FRANK HOUSE - MORNING 7AM

Frank pours water over Henry's head to wake him.

FRANK Why were you saying sorry?

HENRY What? Where am I?

FRANK What were you talking about when you said sorry? What did you do to me?

HENRY I can't control it. I have to eat or drink. I don't even know what it is anymore. I'm just always so hungry. I can smell blood, and I need it to survive. It's a virus someone injected into me while I was in their chemistry lab. I was a fucking rat and they turned me human, but it turned me this way! Blood hungry!

FRANK And? What does that have to do with me?

HENRY I scratched your skin, and your blood mixed with my saliva giving you my virus. I'm sorry. How long have we been here? You haven't felt the pains yet? The hunger?

Frank groans as Henry's voice fades faint with Frank's pain getting louder. Franks eyes bulges with craze and he falls to all fours, scrapping at the floor, now wild with hunger.

It didn't matter what Henry was saying anymore. Frank no longer had patience or ears for words. All he had was the pain and the hunger his body craved.

Frank looks at Henry, suddenly as if seeing him for the first time.

HENRY (CONT'D) No, man! No! Fight it! Resist the urge! You can't be that weak! I lasted thirteen days! Thirteen da...

Silence.

Frank is chewing. RED blood spewing out of the Henry's neck. Frank burps LOUD. Frank lays down. Frank closes his eyes.

INT. WOOD CABIN - MORNING 7AM

Lingering smoke from the night before rises from the chimney of a small wood cabin overgrown with forest area and full of green vines and dying twigs, tall grass and red cedar trees miles from any signs of human civilization.

The Wizard sits looking into the air watching the events through his celestial patterned hat portrayed. He watches Frank eat.

ALBUS It's only a matter of time, son. We will be united. And you will fully understand your powers as a sorcerer's son and together we will rule this land. It only took that one innocent soul to convince. He was a nobody, but you, Son, are meant for Greatness. He had the hunger poisoned into him, and your hunger will only be temporary. For the power Imbedded in his blood, and his flesh will flow through your veins and you will soon feel it, and relish in it, and you will never have the urge to be normal again! This is what that damned woman took from you, from US, at your birth! And because of that she had to perish!

EVIL LAUGHTER

Son she took so much from us. I would have been so great to you. I could have taught you everything. She was a coward, and you will soon learn all of this. You will soon know where to seek me out.