Ars Moriendi screenplay by Chad Collins and Raleigh Joyner

July 2nd, 2013 WGA # 1662526

Copyright 2013. This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express written permission of the authors.

! INT. PLANTATION HOUSE - NIGHT A graceful gentleman in his early thirties (Absalom Harding) moves like an apparition around a dimly lit room. Clad in shabby, typical Victorian-era clothing, he blends into the faded and washed-out features of the room. The room is furnished with faded, decayed pieces that sag under their own immense weight; soggy, grimy sofas, and extravagant, cumbersome wooden affairs warped by the southern heat and humidity. An ancient phonograph faintly plays the distinct chunk of Django Reinhardts Gypsy jazz. Like a puppeteer, he hoists two deceased young men into position for a Victorian-style postmortem portrait, posing them as if they were alive. One is seated, the other is propped up with a makeshift stand behind his feet that holds him upright and rigid. Wires hold his head upright and run along the backs of the arms, making them bendable. When satisfied with the arrangement of his subjects, Absalom strolls over to an antiquated camera equipment setup and starts taking pictures. EXT. ABANDONED ANTEBELLUM MANSION - MORNING Two teenagers, one boy and one girl (Kurt Betancourt and Autumn Costello, respectively), stand on the outskirts of an enormous old home. Though far from goth, both are clad mostly in dark clothing, migrs from some post-punk-lite planet inhabited by Wilde and Poe alike. Kurt, camera in hand, photographs the property while Autumn jots down details in a notebook. Kurt is absorbed in his photography and slowly advances toward the house, eventually passing through the doorway and into the vestibule. Meanwhile, Autumn impatiently checks her watch. She glances at Kurt, but he vanishes into the house. She follows. INT. VESTIBULE OF ABANDONED MANSION - MORNING AUTUMN Wed better go soon. KURT Five more minutes.

"!

! AUTUMN The late bell rings in fifteen. Remind me why we had to come here before school instead of after? KURT Looks creepy at dawn. AUTUMN Only at dawn? He smiles and looks back. KURT Creepiest. Want to go upstairs? Autumn glances at the rickety staircase nearby. AUTUMN Want to fall through the floor?

#!

KURT True. Then youd have to drive yourself to school if my leg gets ripped off. Oh, but you seem to lack the proper licensing for that. Autumn looks at her coat pocket, enthralled, and plunges her hand in. AUTUMN Whats this? Who stuck this in here? Kurt becomes suddenly interested. Autumn draws her hand out slowly and presents it to Kurt, middle finger raised. Kurt swats her hand. He snaps a few more pictures. AUTUMN Ten minutes now. Karl will come down with the Iron Fist if we roll in late. Again. KURT God forbid we miss a nanosecond of The Lost Book of Nostradamus. AUTUMN Lunch detention. Its in our near future. Eight minutes now.

! Kurt returns his camera to the satchel that he has slung across his chest. At the front door, Kurt steps aside with an after you gesture. Autumn launches into an old schtick of theirs. AUTUMN Thank you, good sir. KURT Youre quite welcome. Before stepping out, Kurt takes a final look around the place, a combination of interest and mild fear on his face. INT. CLASSROOM - DAY A class of approximately twenty students seated neatly at desks. Mr. Quincy, a ruler-banging Edwardian schoolmaster, is seated behind his own desk at the front of the room.

$!

MR. QUINCY Pass your essays up to the front. This is the only time Im collecting them. If it isnt in my hand when I come by to pick them up, its a zero. Hand it to me later and its going in there. Mr. Quincy points to the garbage can. Kurt and Autumn pass their essays to the front of the room. Autumn reaches back to retrieve an essay, but her hand remains empty. She turns to the classmate seated behind her (Eric) and grins. Eric laughs and shakes his head. ERIC Nope! AUTUMN I need to start saving energy and stop turning around. Bell rings. Students rustle books and bags, begin to get up and leave the room. MR. QUINCY Now, Im not saying therell be reading checks on tonights chapter, but if you dont read that chapter, expect to be swimming in Fs tomorrow. That means you, Gutierrez. And you, Martin.

%!

Mr. Quincy points a portentous finger at various students well-known for taking his decrees lightly. Autumn waits briefly by the door for Kurt. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY As the two of them walk, another student (Chelsea) runs up beside them. She walks at Autumns side. CHELSEA Hey, Autumn. (then, with less familiarity) Hey, Kurt. AUTUMN How was Osborne? CHELSEA In a Mood. Her hairs wet today. So watch out. KURT (to Autumn) Does that mean something? CHELSEA When the hairs wet, the attitude is full throttle. AUTUMN Are we still pressed on Prufrock? CHELSEA Now were dabbling in Dickenson. Chelsea shows Kurt and Autumn a thick packet of poems with at least 30 poems per page, all typed in 6-point font. AUTUMN Let me grab my magnifying glass Kurt stops at his locker. Autumn is too engaged in her conversation with Chelsea to notice. Kurt hurries up behind Autumn and grabs the handle of her Kanken backpack. KURT Locker.

&!

AUTUMN (swivels back towards Kurt) Chelsea, Ill catch up with you later. CHELSEA (Waves) Have fun with Osborne. AUTUMN Oh, definitely. Autumn ambles along behind Kurt as he returns to his locker. Once there, she stands idly while he enters his locker combination. Inside is a brown paper bag - Kurts lunch. He removes it and stashes it in his satchel. INT. LUNCHROOM - DAY Kurt and Autumn enter the bustling lunchroom. They pass a table with a few of their friends. Before theyre even greeted, Autumn announces that its Blog Day as she and Kurt walk past. Their friends smile and chuckle in understanding. Kurt and Autumn walk through two open doors that lead into the courtyard. EXT. COURTYARD - DAY Kurt and Autumn sit at a table and pull out their respective lunches. Autumn sips from a metal water bottle and eats a hearty veggie wrap with a bag of pretzels. Kurt plucks unsalted nuts and raw vegetables from a plastic baggie. AUTUMN Representing everything in the food pyramid today? Where are you fats, oils, sweets, and salts? KURT (reaches into Autumns bag of pretzels) Thats where you come in. AUTUMN Whatd you bring?

'!

KURT (holds up baggies) Carrots. Nuts. AUTUMN Youre going to eat all that? KURT I had raisins, but I dealt with those in third period. Autumn gives Kurt the Mother Hen You-Dont-Fool-Me look. KURT Im not hungry. AUTUMN Youre never hungry. KURT (beat) We should try to get the Demby House photos posted before lunch ends. AUTUMN (annoyed with Kurts elusion) Im not the one with the computer. Kurt reaches into his bag and removes his laptop, a camera, and a USB cable. He plugs one end of the cable into his computer, the other into the camera. AUTUMN Want to take a look at the notes I got while those upload? KURT (focused on the computer) Just read them to me. AUTUMN (reads dramatically) Demby House, warped and wilted under years of thick heat and humidity, a forgotten homestead straight out of the scenery in a Flannery OConnor tale... The parlor was packed to the ceiling with piles of swollen corpses that reeked and rotted and leaked festering fluids into the moldy Oriental rug. The house was shit-brown and covered in

! nasty-ass spiderwebs and it was stupid looking and youre stupid looking and youre not even listening. Kurt browses the interface of the blog; title is Memento Mori in spidery, creepy font, background wallpaper is Victorian-style damask print, giving it a general gothic feel without being too tacky. KURT Huh? AUTUMN What are you looking at thats so engrossing? KURT Anonymous message.

(!

AUTUMN More critique on our photos of the Asylum? Someone messaged us about that last night. Another smartass who wanted to give pointers on composition. Start your own damn blog. KURT No. I saw that one, though. But this ones different. AUTUMN Whats it say? Kurt continues to read... AUTUMN Really? Fascinating. (beat) As soon as youre finished with that spellbinding message, Id really like you to look at my notes. I like what I wrote about the staircase. Plus, Penny e-mailed me some interesting stuff. As the legend goes, a past owner, Ambrose Demby, came back from the Civil War and found out his wife was cheating with a younger man. He wrestled her lover down the stairs and the fall broke both of their necks. KURT (still sidetracked) Groovy. Autumn yanks the computer from Kurt, a move that almost sends the camera careening off the table.

)!

KURT I wasnt finished! AUTUMN Now you are. Autumn turns her back to Kurt and reads the message. AUTUMN (CONT.) Greetings, Kurt? This is icky. KURT Its flattering. AUTUMN Why dont they mention me? KURT Maybe they think your writing stinks. AUTUMN I think a piece on Rounsaville Place off Old Wye Road would be the perfect little addition to your blog. This is eerily personal. KURT Rounsaville Place. I feel like we shouldve heard of that. Where is it? AUTUMN Off Old Wye Road, apparently. KURT (sarcastic) Thanks, Autumn. But if its perfect for our blog, how have we never heard of it before? AUTUMN (already mid-consultation of Google Maps on Kurts computer) Looks like Old Wye Road cuts through the dead part of the Island. Since they built 175 through Pepin, nobody goes down there much. Its all decrepit houses and swampland. KURT

*! Which further begs the question: how have we never heard of it before? AUTUMN If its as great as Sir Anonymous claims, who cares, right? KURT (glances over Autumns shoulder at the computer screen) As exciting as it sounds, I dont think either of us wants to go poking around in a place we know nothing about. AUTUMN I think you know whats in order, then. KURT Another Consultation? AUTUMN (smiles) With the expert.

INT. PENNYS USED BOOKSTORE (SYNCRETISM) - DAY A cluttered but inviting interior: books stacked in all corners, overstuffed chairs, tchotchkes that reflect Penny Swains deep interest in hoodoo and voodoo, and her expertise in local history and lore. Wind chimes and colorful glass hang and sway in the haint-blue-painted window frames. Cats prowl the shelves and roam freely amongst the books. Penny, a wise historian in her early sixties, wears casual clothing with daring prints. Autumn and Kurt, both seated, drink herbal tea that Penny has made for them. Kurt strokes the head of a nearby cat, who purrs and knocks things over with his stupid head. PENNY Dont you spoil him. Were shunning Boris today. The library sent over a box of out-of-circulation books yesterday. He went and pissed all over them. KURT Were they good books? PENNY

! Hemingway. You decide. When are yall coming to hear me sing? AUTUMN (playfully rolls eyes) I knew that was coming. PENNY Every time. AUTUMN Whens your next set? PENNY 9:30 next Saturday. Im going on before Slap Happy Grandpappy and the Red Hot Keys from Charleston. KURT Isnt Mister Kings 21 and over? PENNY Ill get you in. All you gotta do is show up. Wear that jacket I like with them elbow patches, too.

"+!

Elmer Swain, Pennys husband, strolls in from the back room, an armload of books in his hands. Though good-natured and friendly, he has a few bats fluttering around in the belfry. ELMER How much bank we made today? Can I retire yet? PENNY Uh-uh. Long as we got all of these animals around here, we aint ever going to retire. ELMER One day Im gonna split for a lunch break with 100 dollars and get me some caviar at Cheris. PENNY That place been closed for seven years. Fool. ELMER Hey, its you! Kermit. How you been? Elmer offers a vigorous handshake with Kurt.

! KURT Been good, Mr. Swain. ELMER Good to see you too, Summer. Winter? Youre one of those seasons. AUTUMN Close.

""!

ELMER So when the two of yall getting married? Penny and I wanna be the first ones invited. KURT Were planning it now. Autumn proposed last week. ELMER Good to see a lady take charge. Penny proposed to me, too. Couldnt wait for me to scrape together enough tin to buy a ring. PENNY Cause you dropped it all on Olde English. Elmer laughs heartily and walks back into the back room. PENNY Hell get your names right in a couple more years. So hows the trespassing been going? You two got more research projects for me? KURT Well, since you brought it up, we actually do have something we wanted to ask you about. What do you know about Rounsaville Place? PENNY The plantation off Old Wye Road? Whered you hear about that? KURT Fan mail on the blog. Someone tipped us off about it. Why, have you been hiding it from us? PENNY I just didnt think you guys would be interested in a place like that.

"#!

AUTUMN Its exactly the kind of place wed be interested in. PENNY Which fan of yours told you about it? KURT We dont know. PENNY (suddenly cautious) You dont know? KURT It was anonymous. PENNY Course they wouldnt want to show their face. Thats morbid curiosity gone too far. Borderline disrespect. (beat) To tell the truth, thats meddling with the dead. I love this project of yalls, I love that you come to me for history lessons. But I was afraid itd get to this point. Im all for respectfully exploring old houses with creepy legends and lore, but this one aint just lore. Damn fools falling down the stairs at Demby House, bones under the parlor floorboards, swingin shutters. A lot of its bunk. Manufactured so the houses history can match the creaky shutter hinges. Makes it more fun. But Rounsavilles past aint fun. Its real. AUTUMN Well, thats why wed want your help. If we went in and documented it, wed be respectful of the past. We wouldnt sensationalize it or anything. Scouts honor. PENNY Even if you wanted to go, I dont even know if you could. Place is pretty far off Old Wye. Not easily accessible anymore, not since 55. I was only four, but I remember my daddy coming in and telling my mother and sisters and I about Rex Phelan butchering everyone in the place. It was a boarding house then, owned by someone who bought the property and fixed it up in the 20s. KURT What about before then?

"$!

PENNY Early in the 50s, the 1850s, a white Creole called Albert Rounsaville owned the house. It had been in his family since his godforsaken ancestors crawled off the boat from Haiti. Backs of his slaves looked like carved up tree trunks. He didnt even have the overseer do the deeds. Bastard just cracked the whip himself. Had his way with all the female slaves, even the married ones. Separated mother and child, brother and sister sold the husband, kept the wife. KURT Sounds like your run-of-the-mill heartless antebellum slave owner. PENNY More like your run-of-the-mill savage bastard from Hades. (beat) Most slaves in the day just took it; they had to. Wasnt no one to go and yak to about it. Anyway, there was this woman, name of Celeste. Mulatto herself, I believe. Probably born to some poor girl whod been raped by another master. She was known around the lowcountry for her remedies and protections, mostly herbs, tonics, benign spells, nothing malicious. Practiced voodoo like most of them, but it wasnt that New Orleans souvenir shop tommyrot everyone thinks it is now. KURT You mean it wasnt always about gris-gris and grimoires and stabbing needles into pickaninny dolls? PENNY Exactly. It was just a religion, a way of life. (beat) Celeste was well-respected among the slaves, and even some poor white folks sought her out. Performed burial rituals all around Sifter Island by night. But aint none of that mattered much to Albert Rounsaville, so long as he got what he wanted, and Celeste was just another set of childbearing hips and firm titties. So he did it out in the rice fields one day in front of everyone. Nobody could do nothing, theyd seen it before. Just kept working. Afterwards, the months passed and her stomach swelled and her dress seams stretched. She kept to herself. Didnt perform no rituals. Didnt make remedies for no one. Just watched her stomach grow and accepted

"%! motherhood with grace. Then, one night, Rounsaville broke into her shack, told her that some slaveowners took in the illegitimate children of their conquests. But he wasnt one of those men who put up with part-nigra children. Beat her till bruises covered her abdomen. Two months later she birthed a cold child. (beat) The overseer kept a journal, as did a few slaves whod learnt to write illegally. If they hadnt recorded the events, even I wouldnt have known a thing about it. AUTUMN Unbelievable. KURT But I still dont understand. Im sure behavior like that was ubiquitous with plantation owners all over the Old South. Terrible, the whole lot of them PENNY Not every plantation owner was stupid enough to cross a voodoo queen. Celeste saw to it he wouldnt forget what he did. Even after he went into the grave. KURT So she cursed him. PENNY Dont know for sure how, but yes. Now, I believe it aint over when your body dies, I believe it for sure, but I dont know the ins and outs of black magic. Whatever she did, she got him good. Bound his soul and the soul of her dead child to the Rounsaville property. Still torments him to this day. People still swear they hear distant cries coming from the empty fields. The family ended up selling the property after a smattering of violent incidents people driven mad, taking their own lives, taking each others. Some wealthy retired couple from Pittsburgh bought it in the 20s. Something about how their dream was to own a boarding house and meet all kinds of different people. You know how white people from the city are. Anyway, they ran the place for a few years, they died, passed it on. It stayed a boarding house till 55. AUTUMN Rex Phelan. PENNY

"&! Rex Phelan. For a while, people thought Rounsavilles cursed been lifted. Like that couple had stepped in and swept out all the cobwebs and dustbunnies of the past. But theres a reason people say the past aint ever truly forgotten. They learned that after Phelan slit the throats of all 14 people in the house as they slept. Then his own. KURT How do they know he wasnt already mentally unstable before staying in the boarding house? PENNY His diaries were found later on. Seemed pretty stable during his travels beforehand. Then his entries while at Rounsaville became increasingly disturbed. He talked about hearing wails at his window every night, voices urging him to kill. Afterwards, Rounsaville was abandoned and The Post and Courier had a field day with the story for months. Thats what I dont want happening again. I dont believe the dead rest much, but they wouldnt want it like that. I dont want it like that. KURT So, what if we dont make it like that? What if we present the story for exactly what it is tragic, but deeply compelling nonetheless? PENNY It aint about how you portray it. Its how theyll take it. Everyone wants to romanticize morbitiy these days. Next thing you know well have 17-year-olds with lip rings and spiky hair making pilgrimages to Sifter, breaking into that house, stealing shit that aint theirs. Yall already know what happened with that one hospital. Urban Exploration my big toenail. Thats straight-up vandalism, what they did there. And I dont need to see that happen to my hometown. We been through enough here. And that curse. Lord knows we dont need anyone else to be affected by that. AUTUMN How about this: we go there, take our pictures, do a writeup, and we show you before publishing. Kurt and I arent too terrible at writing - I think we could do the thing right. If youre not comfortable with it, we wont post it. We owe you at least that for all the help you give us. PENNY How are you even gonna get in there?

"'!

AUTUMN (grins) Thats the least of our worries. PENNY (beat) Excuse me for a second. Ill be right back. Penny rises and walks to the back of the store. She returns with two small amulets in her hand. She gives one to Kurt and one to Autumn PENNY (CONT.) For good measure. You never know. KURT Gris-gris? Penny! You didnt get this from a shop in New Orleans, did you? PENNY My ass. I made those myself. Kurt reaches over to stroke a cats head. KURT Can we bring this one with us for protection as well? PENNY Maybe you should. Maybe you need all the good luck you can get in that place. KURT How about you? Can we bring you for protection? PENNY Not a damn chance. EXT. AUTUMNS HOUSE - NIGHT Kurt and Autumn pull up on to Autumns driveway in Kurts car. As Kurt puts the car into park, Autumns parents (Rene Costello and Sorrel Costello) set aside the hookah theyre smoking on the porch and walk toward the drivers window. Rene is an older version of Autumn, with long salt-andpepper hair and large brown eyes. Sorrel is a waifish man with hair thinning at the temples and a goofy face.

! AUTUMN Watch out for the dogs. KURT And the guinea keets. AUTUMN Oh, go ahead and hit those if you want. KURT Rene and Sorrel are coming to talk to you. AUTUMN No, theyre coming to talk to you. As they make their way to Kurts window, Rene stops under the carport and picks up a grocery bag filled with fresh fruit. Kurt rolls the window down. RENE Got room in your fridge for plums? Our tree is dropping them faster than we can eat them. KURT Theres always room in my fridge for plums. SORREL (come on, Rene) Oh, he doesnt want those. KURT I do. I promise.

"(!

Rene hands the bag to Kurt through the window. He places them in the backseat as he casts a sidelong look at Autumn. SORREL We had a baby squirrel running through the backyard today. The dogs didnt shut up for two hours. KURT Did they catch it? SORREL Eventually. KURT Were they merciful?

")!

Sorrel points to the mauled corpse of a small squirrel on the end of the driveway. AUTUMN Rest in Peace. (to Kurt, but also with the intent of breaking up the kaffeeklatsch) Ive got a lot of homework. Ill see you tomorrow, Kurt. KURT Okay. See you. Autumn steps out of the car. AUTUMN (amicably, to her parents) Come on. Let the man go. Kurt waves goodbye and backs down the driveway. He abruptly brakes as a guinea keet runs behind the car. SORREL Interesting kid, he is. He smoke hookah? AUTUMN I dont think so. SORREL Too bad. He should come over for a sour apple shisha night. Autumn lovingly herds her parents into the house. INT. KURTS CAR - NIGHT As he comes around a bend in the road, Kurts headlights illuminate a figure of a young man in grungy clothing, hitchhiking near the intersection of two main roads. KURT Sorry, guy, but no. Kurt passes the man without ceremony and heads home. INT. KURTS HOUSE - NIGHT Kurt opens the door to his house and steps in. The place is eerily quiet and dark, unnervingly clean, sparse of

! furniture. Kurt goes into the dining room - entirely bare, save for a mattress in the middle of the floor and a radio murmuring on low. KURT Mom?

"*!

Kurt flips the light on, revealing a small lump of blankets on the mattress. His mother (Corinne Betancourt) is curled up in the middle with her face in her hands. CORINNE Oh, do turn that off. KURT Migraines? Kurt flips off the light and sinks to the floor next to her. KURT (CONT.) Want sleepytime tea? CORINNE Already had some. (beat) We can chat and have lunch together later, though. We still have Campbells? KURT Its past 8 PM, Mom. CORINNE (raises her hed weakly) Is it? Kurt brushes her hair from her forehead and gives her a peck on the forehead. He stands and walks back to the door. CORINNE (CONT.) (sitting up halfway) I really want to talk, but Im just exhausted right now. KURT (still walking) Might be the medication. CORINNE

#+! But we should do more, Kurt. I want to spend time with you, make a few more memories before

Kurt stops short in the doorway with his back to his mother. CORINNE Tomorrow well do Pancakes and Pixar. You can tell me how schools going. KURT Im busy tomorrow. But Id like to do that, too. Maybe another time. CORINNE Good night, then. I love you. KURT Good night. INT. KURTS ROOM - NIGHT MONTAGE The place is reasonably tidy. Kurt rummages through his modest record collection. He selects a record from a stack and puts it on. We hear Reinhardts jazz once more, a different piece. Kurt does various habitual activities strips to boxers and weighs himself, does homework, checks the blog, takes multiple vitamins with a bottle of water, takes out a bottle of sleeping pills from behind a picture frame of him (as a baby), his mom, and his dad, swallows the pills with a swig of water, puts out the light, and crawls into bed. Record plays until it finishes, then the machine crackles softly. END MONTAGE EXT. DEAD END ROAD - DAY Kurts car pulls up and stops at the end of an irregular dirt road. Kurt and Autumn emerge from the car. Before them is a wall of wild, overgrown vegetation. AUTUMN (automated GPS voice)

! You have arrived at your destination.

#"!

KURT Well, we followed Old Wye, and turned off where we were supposed to. The satellite images showed that the house is further that way. Kurt gestures far beyond a thick tangle of kudzu and wisteria. KURT (CONT.) Guess well have to walk. AUTUMN (glances at her Oxford shoes and Kurts loafers) Im glad we wore proper all-terrain footwear for this. Kurt stuffs the camera and various necessary objects into his satchel. Autumn takes her notebooks and pens. They wade through the tall grass and eventually disappear into the jungle of vines, moving forward with delicate steps. Autumn notes various details in her open notebook. AUTUMN The scariest part about this place will be the walk. KURT Im waiting for a giant spiderweb to cling to my face. AUTUMN Thats more likely to happen in the bathroom at Martins gas station. Kurt points to a shimmering chain that hangs from Autumns pockets. KURT Whats that youve got? AUTUMN Oh, this It is a small St. Christophers medal. Autumn pulls it out and dangles it from her fingers. AUTUMN (CONT.)

##! St. Christopher. Mom and I visited Ash yesterday. I told him about our adventure plans and he insisted I take this. The patron saint of travelers. (laughs) He must really think were headed for danger, because he doesnt even travel to the bathroom without this damn thing. KURT Especially not the Martins gas station bathroom.

They continue their trek through the dense shrubbery until they reach the perimeter of the property, enclosed by a tall, wrought-iron fence. AUTUMN (glances at her knee-length skirt and Kurts slacks) Im glad we wore proper fence-scaling attire, too. KURT Ill boost you over first. AUTUMN I got it. Autumn hands her notebooks to Kurt and places her feet in the openings of the fences ornate decorations. She thrusts herself up, and tosses herself over on to the other side. AUTUMN Too bad the gym teacher from freshman year didnt get to see that. Hand me your satchel. Kurt passes the satchel to Autumn through the rusted bars. KURT Those spikes dont look too friendly. AUTUMN Dont slip, or theyll go where the sun doesnt shine. KURT I needed to hear that. Kurt shakily tries to follow Autumns lead and vaults himself over the top of the fence, but his cuff snags on one of the spikes as he jumps, which makes his landing

! sloppy. He lands hard on his knee and then splays out on the ground in an I give up manner. AUTUMN (stifles laughter) Are you okay? KURT Lets just go home and shut down the blog.

#$!

Autumn extends her arm. Kurt grabs her hand, and she begins to haul him up. KURT (CONT.) Wait, wait, wait - my knee. AUTUMN You hurt it? KURT (in pain) Jesus. AUTUMN You did go down like a sack of bricks. Kurt groans in purposely exaggerated pain. He falls backwards onto the ground. KURT Im done. AUTUMN (gets on one knee next to Kurt) Is it really that bad? KURT Itll stop screaming in a minute. Let me just roll around and cry real quick. AUTUMN Ill run ahead and see if Rounsaville has a nurse on call. KURT No, no, I think Ill make it. Autumn pretends to jot something down in her notebook.

#%! AUTUMN ...As we entered the premises, my friend and colleague took a spill attempting to vault the wrought-iron fence. He is not the Olympic track-and-field star he once was.

Kurt ignores her and remains on his back. AUTUMN (CONT.) Ready to try again? Autumn sets aside her notebook, stoops down, and offers Kurt both of her hands. Kurt takes them, and Autumn tugs him to his feet. As Kurt dusts himself off, Autumn tries to turn his attention to the sprawling manor that lies just ahead. KURT Clearly we live on the edge. AUTUMN Look. KURT We can have a show called Extreme Trespassing. AUTUMN Look. Autumn takes Kurts head and gently turns it in the direction of the house. Through a tangle of untamed weeping willows and giant oaks covered in Spanish moss, the sagging double porches of a mansion are visible. The paint on the siding is peeling, the shutters are falling off, and the entire building seems exhausted from years of enduring the thick heat. It is well-built, however, and remains structurally sound despite decades of neglect. AUTUMN (after a moment of awe) Its beautiful. I mean, what happened is awful, but its just... KURT Beautiful.

! AUTUMN Really. Kurt walk towards the house, but stumbles due to his knee. AUTUMN (offers her assistance) Here.

#&!

Kurt places his arm around her shoulder, and together, they trudge onwards toward the manor. The camera focuses briefly on the gris-gris in the grass; Kurt has dropped his. INT. ROUNSAVILLE HOUSE - DAY Just beyond the main entrance, the house is spacious and mostly bare, smelling of earth and dust. The larger furniture items behemoth armoires, claw-footed sofas, and heavy mahogany tables are pushed against the walls and around the edges of the rooms. Layers of faded wallpaper peel away, revealing the interior decorating tastes of owners through the decades. Kurt and Autumn gingerly walk around, surveying the features of the ceiling, the crown moulding, the ornate fixtures. Kurt hastily removes his camera from his satchel. AUTUMN (blown away) How have the Juggalos at school not found this place and covered the walls with phallic Sharpie art? KURT Can you imagine one of them trying to climb that fence with those pants they wear? With his camera, Kurt zooms in on little intricate carved details on the drawer knobs and sofa feet. Autumn jots notes down into her notebook as she scans the premises. AUTUMN (opens door to an empty cabinet) How much would this go for on Antiques Roadshow? (beat) Strange, its like its like you can sense it. KURT What do you mean?

#'!

AUTUMN (at an unusual want for words) Something just seems off here, you know? KURT Theres been something off with every place weve covered. Kurt and Autumn suddenly stop dead in their tracks. A small crash, like something being knocked over, is heard from another room nearby. AUTUMN Did you hear KURT Im pretty sure. Frozen, they exchange glances between each other, then toward the door they entered through. AUTUMN We should KURT Yup. Attempting to hide their panic from one another, Kurt and Autumn scramble for the door. A cat dirty and matted, but plump and obviously well-fed appears around the corner and meows. It rubs its head against everything it comes across, purring loudly. AUTUMN (notices first, grabs Kurts arm) It was a cat. Autumn glances into the room and points to the empty picture frame that fell to the floor. The cat rubs on Kurts pant leg. KURT Its always just a cat. (kneels down to pet it, notes its sizable belly) Though, I have to say, this ones been eating good. AUTUMN

! He is awfully zaftig for a stray. KURT Maybe he belongs to someone. AUTUMN All the way out here? I dont think so.

#(!

KURT Unless the nearest occupied house is closer than we think. AUTUMN I dont remember seeing any other houses in the satellite images. Another similarly grungy feral cat emerges from a doorway, looking just as chunky as the first. KURT Seriously? Autumn and Kurt advance toward the doorway; the second cat turns and runs. They follow. It leads them to a small hallway. At the end, theres a cracked doorway. Autumn and Kurt approach it slowly. AUTUMN Go ahead and do the honors. Hesitantly, Kurt pushes the door open. The room is vacant, save for a sloppy pile of cat food on the floor; around the room, various empty bags of storebrand food lie tattered. Three more cats are there. AUTUMN Im tempted to say, well, that explains it, but - it doesnt. INT. ROUNSAVILLE HOUSE - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY- DAY Kurt and Autumn explore the second story of the house. They move in and out of rooms, most of which are bare. They find very little to photograph or take notes on almost all of the smaller items, ephemera, and personal objects have been removed.

! KURT Theres not much here to report on.

#)!

AUTUMN Were here to document the history of the place, not take rustic vintage pictures. KURT Still, itd be nice to have some stimulating visual aids. Man cannot live on reading Autumns Prose alone. However, upon entering the last room, Kurt and Autumn discover an abundance of photographs arranged artistically in the mirror of a vanity. A phonograph, chairs, a vase filled with crumpled flowers, scattered books, a sofa heaped with old blankets - all give the room an eerie air of habitation. KURT Jackpot. AUTUMN (surprised) Guess the cleaning ladies missed a room. Autumn immediately kneels down by the piles of books and examines the covers. Kurt photographs the various pieces in the room. AUTUMN Think Penny would be interested in any of these? KURT I dont think anyone wants to buy moldy leatherbound books. AUTUMN Well, not to sell, just to see. Some of these are in pretty good shape. Or should we just leave everything as is? KURT That would probably be best. Scouts honor, right? Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints? Kurt picks up a blanket with two fingers. KURT (CONT.) I wonder who the last poor soul to sleep here was.

! AUTUMN Mustve woken up to quite a surprise. KURT (beat) I dont see blood stains anywhere. Kurt returns to the vanity. He plucks one of the photographs from the mirror. KURT (CONT.) Autumn, come look at these... Holy cannoli. AUTUMN What ? KURT Look.

#*!

Autumn stands and looks at the photo over Kurts shoulder. She catches her breath, does a double take, then snatches more photos from the mirror frame. All are decidedly gloomy and depict the same theme: deceased youth, posed lifelike, as in Victorian-era funerary photography. AUTUMN Are you I mean KURT This is this is like the Holy Grail. I cant believe it. AUTUMN Theyre so pristine. My God. I cant even just how? KURT You dont question a hand thats been dealt by the gods. (shuffles through the photos as he pulls them all from the frame; examines the pictures scattered across the vanity) Autumn, do you know how rare it is to find postmortem portraits in perfect condition? These are tintypes. Collectors pay hundreds for prints of these. These are originals. Entire online communities revolve around memento mori photography AUTUMN (laughs) Who do you think youre talking to? I go on the Flickr groups just as much as you do.

$+!

KURT I know, I know. Its just I dont even know what to say. AUTUMN Well, how the hell did they get here? KURT They obviously belonged to somebody. AUTUMN Yeah, but it was a boarding house. Correct me if Im wrong, but typically renters dont decorate their bedrooms with photos of the dead. KURT Unless a photographer ran a studio within the boarding house and these were his. AUTUMN But this place was occupied into the fifties - these have to be from at least the 1870s. Anyway, you dont think a landlord would have a problem with customers in widows weeds hauling their dead relatives up and down the stairs? Besides, people died at home in those days - right? KURT Someone left behind a bloodbath in what Penny claimed was a possessed rage. We cant look for logic in it. This is exactly what we were looking for. AUTUMN Simmer down there. Im just conceding that theres something a bit strange here. Incredible, but strange. Kurt continues to examine the photographs. Annoyed, Autumn investigates the remainder of the room, wherein she discovers a locked closet door. She finagles the handle a few times, but she cant manage to get it to budge. AUTUMN (CONT.) (folds her arms, still irritated) So what are we doing with those? KURT Are you kidding? Theyre coming with us. AUTUMN

$"! You just told me not to take any of those books. Whatever happened to take nothing but pictures? KURT (grins) Thats what were doing. Can you imagine what our readers would do when they see these tomorrow? AUTUMN Were uploading the Rounsaville story tomorrow. KURT We can upload these, too. AUTUMN But those dont have anything to do with our story. Were covering a mass murder, remember? KURT Well alter the story then. Or maybe we can just upload the photographs this time and do your story another time. I didnt get any good pictures anyways - other than these. AUTUMN My story? KURT Well, youre the one who wrote all those notes. AUTUMN Im incorporating description with the minimal history we already have. This wasnt supposed to be about photos in the first place. KURT You know what - alright. Well do the story first and save these for the next entry. AUTUMN Thank you. (beat) Its getting late. Are you ready to go? KURT Yeah.

Kurt takes all of the photographs and tucks them safely away in his satchel.

$#!

AUTUMN Do you really need all of them? Kurt hesitates, ready to retort with snark, then removes the photos again. He divides the stack in half, then artistically spreads them back across the vanity. KURT (shiftily) For the enjoyment of future generations. EXT. ROUNSAVILLE PLACE - DAY Autumn and Kurt wade through the uncut grass and circle around to the back of the house. AUTUMN Maybe you could grab a few shots of the exterior. I know they look creepiest at dawn, but maybe late afternoon is second-best. Kurt draws out his camera and takes a few photos. AUTUMN (CONT.) How far back does the property go? She gazes out across the sloping backyard, an overgrown thicket of swampy weeds that extends all the way to a wooded marshland in the distance. KURT (surveys the place alongside Autumn) I guess all of this was his. AUTUMN Are those - headstones? KURT Where? Autumn points. A football fields length away, weathered headstones jut out from the trees like crooked teeth. Further back, the shape of a tired brick building is barely visible. AUTUMN Looks like a family plot. Maybe a private chapel, too.

$$!

KURT Looks like something we should include in our coverage. Not to mention - slaves were usually buried on their masters property. Maybe well find Celestes grave. AUTUMN Most slave graves were unmarked. KURT We can check. AUTUMN Look, I think we have enough for now. Besides, I can see the mud from all the way over here. If we can barely walk through tall grass, I doubt well fare well on the banks of a swamp. KURT We could try again another day. AUTUMN Maybe. Did you get all your shots? Kurt nods. AUTUMN (humorously dramatic) Then our work here is done. KURT For now. AUTUMN Yeah, yeah. Kurt and Autumn start back toward the car. From a distance, the view of the cemetery lingers under the setting sun. INT. PENNYS STORE (SYNCRETISM) - DAY Penny, Kurt, and Autumn are seated in armchairs. Penny browses the photos Kurt has captured, and reads Autumns finished product of her writing. PENNY Ive gotta tell you, Im impressed.

! KURT You really are? PENNY Mhm. Autumn, your writing is divine. It gets better and better with every entry I read. AUTUMN (awkward, but appreciative) Aw, shucks. PENNY Its the truth, honey. One of Pennys many cats knocks over a jar of pencils. PENNY (CONT.) And you get more and more annoying by the day. Kurt picks up the cat and rubs its head. PENNY (CONT.) I told you not to spoil him.

$%!

AUTUMN I really tried to evoke the melancholic feeling of the place. I was getting shaky vibes the whole time. PENNY See, I told you there was some sinister mojo in that place. AUTUMN So do we have the OK from you to put it on the blog? PENNY I think youve got the A-OK. AUTUMN Speaking of which, there was something else we found. She looks to Kurt expectantly. Kurt glances furtively at Autumn and the two share an awkward pause. KURT Yeah, we spotted a graveyard a little further off on the property. PENNY

! (intrigued) Oh, really? AUTUMN Well - yeah, but we also found KURT (abruptly) There was a little building back there as well. Probably dates back to the 18th century. We wouldve investigated more, but it looked treacherous. And who knows what diseases were still hanging around there from the 1850s. Autumn confusedly looks at Kurt, who pointedly looks back at her.

$&!

PENNY Interesting. I never heard about a cemetery on the property before. KURT I dont think its anything more than a family plot. PENNY Do you, Mr. Information? KURT What else could it be? PENNY Well, Id be curious to know whether any of Rounsavilles slaves are buried back there. KURT I thought the same thing, but someone insisted that we leave instead of sticking around to investigate a little longer. AUTUMN (side-eyes Kurt) We could go back in the winter and check it out. PENNY I wouldnt. You dont want to spend too much time over there. KURT

! The graveyard could be a story in and of itself. The Rounsaville Entries, Part Deux. PENNY (shakes her head) Dont get too ahead of yourselves. And send me the link when yall put that entry up. AUTUMN Will do. PENNY Yall still coming to my set next Saturday? AUTUMN Sure thing. PENNY Thats what I like to hear. Just dont bring any of your spooky spirits into the place with you. Kurt and Autumn rise to leave, and one of Pennys cats sharpens its claws on an armchair. Penny looks heavenward in irritation. PENNY (CONT.) Im cursed enough with these things as it is. EXT. PENNYS BOOKSTORE - DAY Kurt and Autumn cross the street toward Kurts car. AUTUMN What the hell was that? KURT I dont want her to see them yet.

$'!

AUTUMN We wouldnt have even found them if she hadnt helped us. KURT I said yet. Shell see them eventually. AUTUMN You just dont want her to know we took from the house. She asked us to respect it, and we kind of found a slimy way around that, you have to admit.

$(!

KURT It wasnt slimy. What else were they going to do? Sit there and rot for the next twenty years? AUTUMN They werent ours to take. KURT It doesnt even matter. Once Penny sees this post and how well its received, shell probably appreciate what we did for the place so imagine her reaction when we upload the portraits. She doesnt know how crazy people on the internet go over memento mori artifacts. AUTUMN Yeah. Its not like shes a historian or anything. Its not like she couldve helped us learn more about them before we upload them onto the internet. KURT Just trust me. AUTUMN Thats comforting. INT. AUTUMNS HOUSE - DAY Kurt and Autumn are in Sorrels office. It rains steadily against the windows as evening draws near. Autumn thumbs through a book on the shelf. Kurt glances between the photos in-hand and the feedback on the Rounsaville entry. KURT (monotonously; many comments have been like this) Great entry! Loved your visceral descriptions of Rounsaville plantations tragic past, combined with the architectural beauty of the place. I feel like Im there. Marvellous job, A! AUTUMN Whatd they say about K? KURT (improvises) ...The photographs were fantastic as well.

! Autumn looks up from her book and glances over Kurts shoulder to read the post. He quickly exits the tab. AUTUMN Whyd you close out? KURT We really should get started on this post. Autumn knowingly cuts her eyes at Kurt.

$)!

AUTUMN Youre the boss, apparently, so how do you want to do this? Should we write descriptions of the portraits, one-by-one, or should we just upload all of them, sans any description? Sorrel opens the library door raucously; a large dog runs into the room and starts rolling around on the floor. SORREL Kurt, you want to try the new water pipe? He produces a two-foot glass hookah pipe with a long hose. SORREL (CONT.) This ones named Maelstrom. Shiva broke. I guess thats what you get, naming it after a god of destruction. AUTUMN (laughs) Dad, were working. SORREL I got peach shisha. Imported from Istanbul. AUTUMN Well have to savor your Turkish Delight another time. The dog barks with excitement and jumps on Kurt. AUTUMN Kat! Get under the desk or get out! The dog continues to run rambunctiously around the room. SORREL Shes just being friendly.

! AUTUMN Shes doing too much. Will you take her with you?

$*!

SORREL (whistles) Come here, baby, your sisters being a prune this evening. AUTUMN Thank you, Sorrel. SORREL Good luck on your MySpace thingy. AUTUMN (joking) Actually, its a Friendster. Sorrel grabs the dogs collar and sends her from the room. He begins to back out of the room, but Autumn calls to him. AUTUMN (CONT.) Sorrel. Sorrel peeks his head back in. SORREL You rang? AUTUMN Ash texted me. Sorrels face changes as he anticipates what is coming. AUTUMN (CONT.) Hes going to be serving at the 10 AM mass next Sunday. SORREL I see. AUTUMN Want to come with? SORREL (oh you) No. He shuts the door gently as he exits.

! AUTUMN Sorry about that. Kurt walks over to the scanner and shuffles through the photos. He examines them before he lays them on the glass. AUTUMN (CONT.) Well, I guess thats what were doing now. Autumn crosses her arms and strolls over to the window. As she gazes out into the yard, she spots a white owl perched atop a tree, partially shrouded by all the vegetation. AUTUMN (vaguely to Kurt, mostly to herself) Owl. Autumn draws out her phone and opens the camera app. She returns her glance to the window and raises the phone to snap a picture, but the owl has flown away. AUTUMN Dammit. KURT Huh? AUTUMN There was just an owl out back.

%+!

KURT You mean thats actually uncommon in the Costello Backyard? AUTUMN Id imagine its a bizarre occurrence in anyones backyard. KURT You know, some Native Americans believed that owls were AUTUMN (overlaps) - Omens of death. Kurt, my mother is part Ho-Chunk. KURT Do you believe it? AUTUMN

%"! It has its roots in lore, but Id take everything I read on Tumblr with a few metric tons of salt. Everyone on there likes to pretend theyre an authority on Native culture.

Kurt returns his attention to the photographs. He places a few more on the scanner, then waits as they load onto his laptop. He zooms in on the high-resolution images, and scrutinizes one of the portraits. KURT Come over here real quick. AUTUMN (with sarcastic surprise, as she walks) You actually want my help with something? KURT Look at this. Autumn studies the screen over Kurts shoulder. KURT (CONT.) Do you notice anything? AUTUMN Where? KURT Look closer. AUTUMN (beat) His ears. The upper cartilage looks like its stretched on both sides. Like he had plugs that were taken out. KURT Victorian hipsters? Old-timey piercing parlors? AUTUMN Maybe he did it to himself. Or they were caused by something else. An injury of some sort. KURT Were body mods even a thing back then? In the Western world, that is? AUTUMN

%#! Not that I know of, though Im sure the 1800s had its share Special Snowflakes as well. What about the other photographs? Any more of that same guy?

Kurt analyzes the remaining photographs closely. KURT I dont see anything out of the ordinary with these. Maybe we should go back to Rounsaville and check out the other portraits - just in case. AUTUMN You just want an excuse to get the rest of them. KURT How will we know if theres anything strange about this portrait if we dont compare it to the ones we havent inspected yet? AUTUMN I already think you were - we were wrong to take the few photographs that we did. I really dont think we need to go back for any more. KURT We dont have to take them - just look at them, to see if theres anything else exceptionally odd. Plus, itll give us a chance to return these ones. Ive already scanned them. I can return them to their wondrously dusty glory and put your conscience at peace. AUTUMN (beat) Fine. But if we miss another one of Pennys shows because of it KURT Shell have our heads. I know. But thats not til next weekend. Well be done with this in no time. Autumn glares at Kurt, exasperated. KURT (CONT.) Itll be fine. INT. DR. WALKERS WAITING ROOM - DAY

%$!

Kurt and Corinne are seated side-by-side. The waiting room is dreary and artificially bright, with a few unsuccessful attempts to liven up the atmosphere. Another patient is seated across the room. Untidy and manic in appearance, he fidgets in his seat as a woman next to him pats his back in consolation. Kurt observes with quiet stoicism. Dr. Walker, a highly sanitized man in his mid-fifties, steps into the room, still engaged in a conversation. DR. WALKER (over his shoulder to receptionist) - Then hell have to reschedule for another day. (turns; overly jolly) Ms. Betancourt! Wonderful seeing you again. Why dont you step right back here. Corinne appears slightly distressed. She looks at Kurt. KURT Its alright. Thats just Dr. Walker, remember? He helps you out. CORINNE (a humorous stage whisper) Hes not dreadful, right? DR. WALKER (assembly-line laughter) I sure hope not. Youre more than welcome to come on back and chat as well, Kurt. Its been a while. KURT Maybe next time. Ive got an absurd load of studying. CORINNE (rises to join Dr. Walker) Lets leave The Scholar to his Scholarly Duties. I think hes writing a dissertation already, but he probably wont show it to me. DR.WALKER Well, Kurt, if you start to crave some company, you know where my office is. Otherwise, we should be done by four. After the two step out, Kurt glances back to the unusual individual he was watching earlier, then pulls the

! photographs from his satchel. He flips to the portrait he and Autumn called into question, and studies it intensely. EXT. ROUNSAVILLE PLACE - DAY

%%!

Autumn and Kurt approach the house, their pace more steady. Neither one has their respective documentation materials at the ready. AUTUMN Maybe we shouldve brought a shopping basket along. I saw a lamp in the parlor we can grab. Maybe some embroidered pillows on that couch. KURT Should we go in the front entrance again? AUTUMN Or that moldy blanket? Maybe we need a shopping cart. You think we couldve managed with one of those? KURT Ill tell you what we could have managed without. Somebodys piss-poor attitude. AUTUMN Fine by me. She turns and puts on an act of walking away. Kurt doesnt look back. KURT Have fun. Ill just take the rest of the photographs. And sell them on eBay to pay for new blazers. Autumn, slouched in defeat, stops. Her back is still turned. INT. ROUNSAVILLE HOUSE - DAY Kurt and Autumn enter the parlor. Familiar with the layout, their trepidation has visibly subsided. One of the feral cats, the same one who greeted them before, runs toward them excitedly and rubs against Autumns leg.

! AUTUMN At least one of my friends is happy to see me. Autumn stoops to scratch the cats head. She touches a woven bracelet fastened around its neck. AUTUMN I dont remember this being here.

%&!

Kurt stoops and acknowledges the bracelet alongside Autumn. KURT Maybe he found it somewhere. AUTUMN And wrapped it around his own neck? KURT Hes a talented cat. AUTUMN He can help us look over the rest of the photographs. And hell make sure you dont take anything else. KURT The horse youre beating, Autumn its dead. I promise. The cat trails at their heels as they ascend the stairs. INT. ROUNSAVILLE HOUSE - PORTRAIT ROOM, UPSTAIRS - DAY The cat lounges on the sofa. Kurt and Autumn, with the aid of a magnifying glass, study the remaining photos. Kurt pulls the other half of the portraits from his satchel and places them on the vanity. He and Autumn pick up various portraits and scrutinize them. AUTUMN See anymore guys with holes in their ears? KURT Its scary how alive they look. You can see the brace holding up the head in this one. AUTUMN They never really mastered the eyes, though. You can tell when a mans dead with his eyes open. And when his eyes are

%'! closed he looks dead. And when his eyes are painted on he looks ridiculous - and still dead.

They continue to examine the photographs. AUTUMN Holes? KURT Still no holes. Let me know if you see multiple shots of the same person. Autumn sets her handful of pictures aside and focuses on one in particular. Suddenly, she furrows her brow and becomes intensely focused on a specific picture. AUTUMN (to herself; conjuring a memory) Preston.... Preston... KURT Kurt. AUTUMN What? KURT I thought we were just saying names. AUTUMN Higgs? Haaa... Harford? Hackett. Preston Hackett. KURT Am I supposed to know who that is? AUTUMN Preston Hackett. Dont you watch the news? KURT Well, Autumn, between taking care of my own mom and making sure I dont fail out of school, Im not too concerned with tuning in to the Nightly News on a regular basis. AUTUMN Hes that student from Jacksonville. He left home for whatever reason four months ago, and no ones seen him since. See the port wine stain on this guys forehead?

! KURT Yeah.

%(!

AUTUMN The one on Preston Hacketts forehead is exactly the same. Autumn gives Kurt a long, loaded stare. KURT (comes to realization) Theres no way. These pictures are over a century old. Kurt crosses his arms as Autumn takes out her cell phone and peruses the internet, then opens an article. The image loads on the screen as she holds the portrait in question next to her phone. KURT Autumn, this is It is fully evident that both images are of the same person. KURT (CONT.) They look very similar. AUTUMN Are you shitting me? KURT Lots of people have port wine stains. AUTUMN Theyre exactly identical. KURT How do you propose that a kid who went missing four months ago is in a postmortem portrait from the 1870s? AUTUMN (beat) Kurt, I dont think the portrait is from the 1870s. Suddenly, odd sounds are heard from down the hall. AUTUMN Did you hear that?

! KURT The cats? Yes. I heard them. AUTUMN That wasnt the cats. KURT Youre letting this nonsense get to your head. Kurt and Autumn pause to listen again. Silence. AUTUMN Yeah, were done here.

%)!

Autumn turns her back to Kurt and scoops up her belongings. KURT Autumn, we dont even AUTUMN Fine, okay, Im done here. Autumn starts for the door. KURT Can you just stop trying to fuck this up for me, please? AUTUMN WHAT? (whirls around) You know what, Ive had just about e-goddamn-nough with that. Tell me, was this project ever about an us? This blog everything were working on was supposed to be a joint effort. Remember that? Because recently, you seem to think this is all a me, me, me affair. Kurt stares at Autumn, astonished. AUTUMN (CONT.) (imperatively) I dont know what weve stumbled on, but this isnt the holy grail of postmortem portraits youve been wet-dreaming of every night. I know what I see and I know thats the same guy and this isnt something were equipped to handle. KURT (finally raises his voice) You cant even prove that its the same guy!

%*!

Their argument is abruptly split by the sound of jazz music through the walls. Kurt and Autumn fall deathly quiet. AUTUMN (terrified) Im going to the car. Autumn speeds toward the door. Kurt grabs his satchel and scrapes the portraits together on the tabletop. Autumn whirls around to see what is keeping Kurt delayed. She shoots him an urgent look. AUTUMN COME ON. Kurt drops the pictures on the vanity, keeping only the portrait of Preston Hackett in his hand. He stashes it away and races out behind Autumn. Kurts previous leg injury keeps him lagging even further behind Autumn, who is far ahead. As he lumbers down the hallway on his way to the stairs, he passes an open doorway, and catches a glimpse of a human figure within the room. He halts. Inside, the room is like an ethereal, otherworldly still from an old-timey film. Absalom, tall and clad in dark clothing, stands idly by a cranking phonograph, his gaze affixed outside the window. As if by instinct, Absalom turns and meets Kurts eye. FADE TO BLACK INT. CLUB - NIGHT FADE IN as Penny styled in a glittery, floor-length, ravishing number, illuminated with few stage lights sings an enchanting jazz piece from decades earlier. The music from the previous scene has blended seamlessly into her current set, though the song itself is different. Mister Kings is a quaint, humble venue with framed black-andwhite photos and other memorabilia on its walls. Many local legends have dropped in over the years.

! Kurt and Autumn are seated across from one another at a small booth along the wall of the club. A small assortment of barely-touched refreshments is on the table.

&+!

All are entranced by Pennys performance. As her first song draws to a close, the crowd stands and applauds emphatically. The applause dies down; Kurt and Autumn sit. Despite her outward attempts at appearing lively, Autumns distressed disposition prevails. KURT You have to forget it for now. AUTUMN I shouldve at least taken Preston Hacketts picture with me. KURT (exasperated; this conversation has been repeated all week) Ive told you a million times there was nothing else we could do. AUTUMN I cant help but feel that KURT It isnt our fault. AUTUMN (growing more outraged) They went in there and found nothing. Thats bullshit. Thats bullshit. Why would we make any of that up? I saw it. You saw it. KURT Who says anyone thinks we made it up? The police know the history of that place. They never even suggested that any of our account was a lie. AUTUMN But what else would they think? Sheriff Coffey was more concerned with our trespassing. He already thinks were attention-seeking mall-goths with overactive imaginations. KURT

&"! Well, there wasnt much solid evidence to go by. How can we even explain how the guy in the picture is Preston Hackett? If it's Preston Hackett? AUTUMN I don't know. I don't know.

As she ends her line, Autumn pounds the tabletop. Her frustration peaks as her voice rises almost to a hysterical level. She quickly realizes herself and pulls back. AUTUMN (CONT.) (with quiet desperation) If wed just held onto that one portrait. I swear. Someone who reads Memento Mori got there before the police did. Theres no other explanation. They were there when we were. They broke in and played that stupid fucking music to scare us away and then cleaned the place out. KURT Youve reiterated this scenario to me at least ten times. I told you, anything's possible. I dont know what we were dealing with, but it's out of our hands. What else are we supposed to do? AUTUMN Shut down the blog. KURT (hesitant) I don't know how effective that would be. AUTUMN How effective would keeping it up be? How could we possibly keep it running now? KURT We can't just delete it after all the work we've put into that project. For now, we've just got to stay calm. Or else we'll end up like - I dont know. Rex Phelan. Just AUTUMN Just trust you, right? Because that's done so much good for us already. Kurt and Autumn are taken by surprise when the audience stands to applaud.

! Without having realized it, their bickering caused them to miss the rest of Pennys performance.

&#!

PENNY (dabs her forehead) Thank you, little doves. I am delighted to be here singing for all of you this fine evening. Ill be taking a brief recess, but the electrifying Red Hot Keys will be up next to set the place ablaze with their invigorating funk. To more applause, Penny glides backstage. She soon emerges on the floor and floats over to Kurt and Autumns booth. Elmer, seated across the room, flails his arms wildly to acquire her attention, but she holds her pointer-finger up, indicating that shell be there shortly. Penny takes a seat next to Autumn. PENNY So, how was I? AUTUMN Marvelous. KURT Stunning. AUTUMN Enchanting. KURT Bewitching. PENNY Quit your foolin. Was I really good? AUTUMN You were wonderful. KURT Yeah, aside from these ho-hum dining choices (he motions to a soggy basket of fries on the table) Ive been having a great time. PENNY Well, Mister Kings aint ever been known for its food.

! AUTUMN It really was incredible. Sorry we havent been able to make the past few PENNY Darling, dont stress yourself. Youre young. I know you have other obligations that dont include watching me strutting around stage belting out my mamas favorite tunes. They all laugh lightly. The mood quickly changes as they fall quiet; Kurt and Autumn know whats coming next.

&$!

PENNY (CONT.) So, have you guys heard anything else about your incident at Rounsavilles? KURT Maybe this isnt the time PENNY (to Kurt) Oh, so you gonna keep more secrets from me? Like you did with them pictures? KURT I just wanted us to do a little more research before AUTUMN They havent got a single lead. Nothing. PENNY I knew sending you to that place would be trouble. AUTUMN Im hoping they find something anything soon. I cant get the image of that poor kids face out of my mind. Its sickening just to fathom the possibilities of why he was (sighs) We think maybe someone saw our post on the blog and took it as an invitation to ransack the place. PENNY Wouldnt surprise me. People nowadays. They think everything is up for grabs, like the world is one big damn garage sale. Place has a history. You cant just go around disrespecting things like that.

! AUTUMN Youre not mad at us, are you?

&%!

PENNY There aint a chance in Hell that I could be mad at you, Ms. Autumn. Your write-up on the place was so evocative, so eloquent; Im just disappointed that someone took that as permission to do what they did. You want to tell the world something, and thats what you get in return. Disgraceful. Kurt has been noticeably preoccupied on his phone during their entire conversation. His screen is directing him towards a notification on the blog. There is another anonymous message in their inbox. PENNY Kurt, that damn blog is the whole cause of this big ol mess. The least you can do is give it a rest for the night. KURT (clipped) Neither of us has checked up on it for a week. Penny rolls her eyes and takes Autumns hand. PENNY (CONT.) Lets go see if Elmers still coherent after Lord-knowshow-many pitchers of that beer. EXT. AUTUMNS HOUSE- NIGHT Autumn steps out of Kurts car. Kurt steps out to accompany her to the top of the porch steps. AUTUMN Thanks for the ride. KURT (smiles) Who wouldve driven you if I hadnt? Autumn scoffs and turns to the door, then turns back. She opens her arms limply. AUTUMN Gimme some sugar. Kurt and Autumn share a rare, but friendly, hug.

&&!

KURT Get some rest. AUTUMN (gives a playful shoulder-nudge) Get some rest yourself. Autumn heads into the house while Kurt returns to his car. A breeze rustles the shrubbery in Autumns yard as a bright orange Harvest Moon peeks out from behind the clouds. The moonlight illuminates the portrait that Kurt has drawn out of his inner jacket pocket and holds in his hand. We fade to INT. ROUNSAVILLE HOUSE - PORTRAIT ROOM, UPSTAIRS - NIGHT - The same portrait in Kurts hand, though he now stands before the now-empty vanity. Kurt runs his hand along the barren tabletop. A cat leaps up, purring, and rubs its head against the mirror frame. Kurt scratches its neck and notices that, like the cat in the previous scene, this one has something fastened around its neck a thin silver chain bracelet. Kurt walks over to the locked closet door, turns the knob, and is not surprised to find that it now opens. Inside, like the rest of the room, the closet is totally vacant. Kurt crosses over to the window, which looks out across the back of the property. His eyes fall on the wooded area that partially conceals the graveyard. EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT A wailing chorus of croaking frogs and chirping crickets engulfs Kurt. He weaves his way between trees as he pushes ahead through the drooping flora. Eventually, he comes to a cemetery in the clearing. Spanish moss and hanging vines drape around the time-eaten stone fixtures. The mushy ground gives under the soles of Kurts boots. He walks between above-ground vaults that hold the dead in sealed stone coffins, guarded by weathered angels. The cemetery is a hodge-podge mixture of burial methods traditional graves, vaults, a tomb left behind by generations of Rounsavilles and their charges.

! On the far end of the cemetery, a rough stone door guards the entrance to a small, simple charnel house. Slivers of candlelight peek from the cracks. Like a moth drawn to a lantern, Kurt approaches the building, almost bewitched by a presence within.

&'!

He cautiously slides the stone door aside and it gives with surprising ease. INT. CHARNEL HOUSE - NIGHT Rotting wooden shelves line the sagging wall, laden with a farrago of human bones, strange bottles, and other tchotchkes. In the center of the tiny room, a hulking antique camera sits among the bones scattered about the flagstone floor. Adjacent to the camera is a rickety chair. Fascinated, Kurt gently examines the equipment, running his fingers over the delicate apparatus. ABSALOM Do you like it? Kurt turns around, apprehensively, and faces Absalom, who has materialized in the doorway. His sharp, youthful features are desaturated; his very appearance has absorbed the sepia-toned world he has created for himself. Absalom leans against the doorjamb like a proud, wealthy man in a palatial home. ABSALOM (CONT.) Id wager its not the best place to keep a camera it was much better off in the closet. (a beat; gestures to bones around the interior) They kept some of the slave remains in here. None of these are from me. Kurt drops his gaze and focuses intently on the camera, almost afraid to look at Absalom or at the bones. ABSALOM (CONT.) Youre not afraid, are you? The bones are not the outcome of anything Ive done I promise but I certainly do admire them. I anticipated the same appreciation from you, too given the macabre nature of your blog. Excuse me.

&(!

Absalom brushes past Kurt, taking up a walking stick on the other side of the room. He lays a hand on Kurts shoulder. Kurt violently recoils. Absalom draws his hands back gingerly and holds them up, showing that he means no harm. ABSALOM (CONT.) If youd prefer to move to more comfortable quarters, we can head somewhere else. I do my developing in here, but Ive got the whole place to myself. Absalom points across the marshy ground toward another building the one previously seen - set further back into the trees. ABSALOM (CONT.) Where I entertain most guests. I certainly cant be a suitable host in here. My name is Absalom, by the way. Like the Faulkner novel. He reaches around to the single burning candle and pinches the wick with both fingers, then steps out into the moonlit graveyard. Kurt doesnt follow. Absalom takes a few strides and turns back. ABSALOM (CONT.) Or would you rather let the boo hags get you? INT. CHAPEL - NIGHT One by one, Absalom lights an array of candles, which slowly reveal the room in a fuzzy glow. The room, though larger, is not much of an improvement from the previous interior; the absence of human bones is a notable difference. Absalom gestures for Kurt to have a seat. Kurt tentatively lowers himself onto a burgundy fainting couch with moldy upholstery. ABSALOM Thats my seat. Kurt moves to a large, dusty divan and crosses his legs. Absalom drifts over to a tabletop that hosts an arrangement of liquor bottles, crystal decanters, and tumblers. Selecting from nondescript decanters, he mixes two drinks and carries one over to Kurt.

! ABSALOM(CONT.) Vodka tonic. Kurt regards the glass hesitantly. Absalom takes a sip and shrugs: see? no arsenic. Kurt takes the glass in both hands and sets it aside. Absalom sits, reclining in a tight, controlled manner. He isnt one to fling himself down arms akimbo and sprawl. KURT Oh Absalom looks at Kurt with surprised interest as Kurt stands and crosses over to Absalom. He draws the portrait of Preston Hackett from his jacket pocket. KURT (CONT.) I guess you probably missed this. Absalom smiles and takes it in his fingers.

&)!

ABSALOM Much obliged. Unlike the remains from earlier, this is, in fact, my work. But I suppose you knew that. Kurt returns to the divan and sits. His eyes flick from one part of the room to the next. ABSALOM (CONT.) Looking for something? KURT (beat) I guess I expected to spot a MacBook among the candlesticks and gilt frames. ABSALOM Oh, no. Thats what the Beaufort County (humorously haughty) One must deign to mingle with modernity could, Id drive a horse and buggy like instead of the rusted hunk I have Library is for. at times. If I those Amish do out back.

Absalom returns his attention to the portrait in his hand. He appears to admire his own work. KURT

! Did you the subjects of the portraits did you pose them all yourself? ABSALOM Pose them?

&*!

KURT I mean, did they pose themselves? Or are they really, uh Kurt trails off. ABSALOM (laughs) Well, I dont know about really, uh. But they are dead. Kurt chuckles uncomfortably and sips his drink with unintended childishness. KURT But would you go as far as to say that theyre dead because because you well, did you cause them to be ABSALOM Did I cause them to be dead? KURT Yes. ABSALOM How very forthright of you, Kurt. KURT I didnt mean to offend. ABSALOM No, no, I find the subject matter to be most captivating. Kurt takes another sip of his drink and grimaces. Absalom gazes dreamily at something on the other side of the room. Pointing with his walking stick, he indicates the shape of a crucifix carved into the crumbling stone wall. ABSALOM (CONT.) Rounsaville was a Catholic. KURT I see.

! ABSALOM And you? KURT (why are you asking) I dont believe in anything, really. ABSALOM Were you raised in any particular church? KURT No. ABSALOM Was that your doing? KURT (a beat; increasingly reluctant) I dont know what you mean. ABSALOM Is that always how it was in your household, or at some point did you deviate from your faith? KURT (chooses words carefully) Religion never had a presence in my house. Its the same with my friends family ABSALOM Autumn. KURT - Yes. But somehow her older brother converted to Catholicism. Now he wants to be a priest. Autumns Agnostic. Her parents, well, theyre not anything definitive, except enthusiastically Not Christian. ABSALOM And your parents are KURT Theres nothing I can say about them, really. ABSALOM Surely theres something. Your father KURT

'+!

! My memories of him are disjointed at best. ABSALOM Hes no longer with us? KURT Hes not. Absalom traces the rim of his glass with an index finger and watches Kurt. Kurt remains silent until, pressured to break the discomfort caused by the silence, he continues. KURT (CONT.) He died when I was four. ABSALOM How did your mother take that?

'"!

KURT I knew she was grieving, but she kind of retreated into herself. Thats how she handled most things, up until a few years ago. ABSALOM How did you take it? KURT (speaking with an awkward therapist) I figured that at least I had her to turn to, that with just the two of us it would be alright. For a while, I was right. But now - its like she isnt even around anymore. Absalom stares. Something about his demeanor draws out information effortlessly. KURT (CONT.) Of course, thats how Alzheimers works. (beat) These days, her source of joy is the park. I drop her off, and theres a bench she just sits on for hours. Thinking, people-watching (beat) She used to act. Just small community productions. Sometimes she was even too animated onstage - that was how she first started to notice her memory, and the lines (beat) I feel sick for thinking it, but I feel like things for both of us would be better if she just goes - already.

'#!

ABSALOM Death is unlike anything else in that it is the root of so much pain, yet, at the same time, a source of such great relief. Few things are grotesque and so beautiful at once. KURT Beautiful... ABSALOM (now its my turn) I learned as much with Remington St. Clair. (beat) When I was thirteen, I had a dear friend by that name. An older gentleman who taught piano, knew the classics, made a soul-crushing cup of Darjeeling. Every afternoon after school I scurried onto his porch to hear his tales of summer holidays on the Amalfi Coast. My older sister was incapacitated, so my mother and father never bothered themselves too much with my activities and proclivities. So long as I came home with acceptable marks - they were Those Parents. Remy lived in a small teal Victorian a few houses down from me, hidden by this massive weeping willow. For me, it was like slipping from the world and entering some mystical jungle for a few hours a day. Remy rolled my first cigarette, poured my first glass of Chartreuse. And, of course, there were other firsts, too. Absalom pauses to gauge Kurts reaction. Kurt looks on calmly, showing no discernible judgment. ABSALOM (CONT.) I dont suppose youre familiar with Wilhelm von Gloeden. KURT The German photographer who he took idyllic nude portraits of young men in Sicily. ABSALOM I shouldve expected as much from a connoisseur of photography. Remy fancied himself an undeclared successor to von Gloeden. Of course, von Gloeden had many subjects in his portraits Remy only had one. (beat) Hes the one who piqued my interest in photography, especially with obsolete equipment, I suppose. KURT

! But death. What piqued your interest in that? ABSALOM What piqued yours?

'$!

KURT (beat) Its been pervasive in my family my whole life. One of the only constants I know. One of the only things you can come to expect, I guess. ABSALOM As my educator, Remy taught me much the same. He was an amateur art scholar he traveled extensively in Western Europe; he was enchanted with the Northern Renaissance. The way they saw Death, the universality of Decay, the fleeting nature of tangible beauty. His home was decorated with works of Holbein, Drer. I learned that memento mori, vanitas, the all-encompassing art of dying it was not something exclusive only to the Victorians, but something rooted much deeper in the Western World and beyond. Id have loved to create still-lifes of skulls, wood engravings depicting the Danse Macabre. I had no talent for drawing, however. Photography, though Kurt eyes the portrait Absalom still holds in his fingers. ABSALOM (CONT.) Unfortunately, Remy and Is partnership was cut short one night. I stopped by after finishing my schoolwork, let myself in with my key. Id just finished The Picture of Dorian Gray and was plumb giddy for a three-hour debate over Lord Henrys motives. Id expected to find him dozing in the parlor, or playing Chopin at the baby grand. But I found him nowhere downstairs. It didnt strike me as odd, though - I thought maybe hed had one too many vodka tonics and had to retire early. But that wasnt the case, either. At last I found him in bed, lying peacefully, as if his body had already been laid out for the casket - or for a portrait - all I had to do was take the picture. (beat) After leaving the next morning I placed an anonymous call to the police. He was taken away later that day. KURT You left the next morning? ABSALOM

! Yes. Remy had a queen-sized sleigh bed.

'%!

Kurt has become visibly alarmed by the story. Absalom rises from his seat and crosses over Kurt, hands behind his back. ABSALOM (CONT.) Youre empty. KURT Excuse me? ABSALOM (gestures to Kurts glass) Its usually not until the second glass that the nerves start to soften. Walking back to the array of decanters and bottles, Absalom briefly pauses and turns to Kurt with a strange smile. ABSALOM (CONT.) What did you think I meant? EXT. BACK ROAD NIGHT A LONE TRANSIENT (as seen before by Kurt) walks along an isolated dirt road. He is young and sinewy, equipped only with a battered knapsack slung over his shoulder. The night is still, eerily so. Save for slivers of moonlight, the road is pitch dark. The long-suffering engine of an old car is heard, and before long, a vintage automobile turns on to the road. It stops next to the transient. Absalom is inside. TRANSIENT Good evening. ABSALOM Whats a chap like yourself doing out here alone this late? The transient stifles his apprehension with a swift gulp. TRANSIENT

! Im, uh, not alone. I was walking with some friends. We must have separated. You know... ABSALOM (quick to reply) I didnt pass anyone along the way. TRANSIENT Theyre up ahead. Im the slowpoke of the group. ABSALOM Healthy-looking fellow like you? I doubt that. The transient laughs uneasily.

'&!

ABSALOM Hop in if youd like. I could take you up to your friends. TRANSIENT Oh, no, thank you. Id rather walk. My house is only a little further up the road. ABSALOM (pointedly glances at the transients scruffy appearance) Your house. TRANSIENT My friends and I are.... on our way home from a concert. It was just a little indie shindig. Nothing too heavy. We walked. Save the planet, you know, that sort of thing. ABSALOM Admirable. The transient feigns a smile. For ten seconds, neither Absalom nor the transient says anything. The transient just at his shoes to avoid Absaloms seemingly-innocuous smile. TRANSIENT Thank you again for the offer, though. I appreciate it. ABSALOM Of course. Any time. Absalom nods his head in an old-fashioned manner of farewell. The car squawks into drive and pulls away.

''!

The transient continues to walk. He firmly grips the cellphone in his hand. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - NIGHT Thirty minutes have elapsed and the transient still walks unaccompanied along the road. He is startled by the glare of bright headlights up ahead. A car, Absaloms car, pulls out from the shadows and drives toward the transient. The transient pulls his cellphone out and tries to flip it open. It slips from his trembling hands and bounces into the darkness. Absalom pulls up, an arm hanging lazily out the window. ABSALOM I thought you lived just up ahead. INT. ST-DYMPHNAS CHURCH - DAY Save for a vibrant stained-glass window depicting a sacrificial lamb, the church windows are rudimentary, as are the other fixtures within the cramped space. The organ is clearly the most expensive item in the room. Of the ten neatly organized pews, three are occupied by clergy members. The rest are sparsely filled with local families and bedraggled individuals who Need Jesus. Ash Costello, a sleepy-eyed young man who turned to Catholicism in his late teens, stands on the altar at the front of the church. He raises the bowl of the Eucharist. ASH COSTELLO This is the Lamb of God. Happy are those who are called to His supper. The members of the assembly rise and approach the altar in procession to receive the Eucharist. Autumn and Kurt, however, remain at their pew. Ashs line The Body of Christ echoes throughout the church as each member of the assembly bows and receives the Eucharist.

'(!

One by one, they return to their pews as Father Carletti recites the Prayer After Communion in a heavy accent. FATHER CARLETTI I thank You, Lord, Almighty Father, Everlasting God, for having been pleased, through no merit of mine, but of Your great mercy alone, to feed me, a sinner, and Your unworthy servant, with the precious Body and Blood of Your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.... Father Carlettis prayer fades out as Autumn and Kurt begin to converse whisperingly, their heads bowed forward. KURT I cant understand a thing hes saying. AUTUMN Neither can I. But now I really want spaghetti. KURT You dont think they have garlic-bread as an alternative to the Eucharist wafers, do you? AUTUMN You might have to pick your own garlic. They probably have some hanging over the doorway to keep the vampires out. KURT This service is probably doing enough to fend them off. Father Carletti (his voice FADES back in) Through the same Christ our Lord. Amen. The parish responds with a communal Amen. Heads raise. FATHER CARLETTI Special thanks to our guest speaker, Mr. Asher Costello, a dear friend of the clergy here at St. Dymphna. By next fall, we hope to raise enough funds to send him to the Franciscan University of Steubenville, after which he hopes to attend seminary school and join the priesthood. Hopefully hell come back here, unless he runs off to Vatican City. Father Carletti turns to Ash and chuckles amicably. Ash shyly laughs along.

')!

FATHER CARLETTI (CONT.) He is a delightful young person whom we are fortunate to have in our presence... As usual, Bible study and brunch will be held here next Saturday. As on every third Sunday of each month, all are welcome to doughnuts and juice after our service. Unless Deacon Farrell gets to them first. And now, I ask for you all to bow your heads. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, mass has ended. Go in peace. The members of the congregation respond with Thanks be to God, and stand as Father Carletti proceeds down the aisle. The organ player starts to churn a hymn as the congregation rises. Some stay to socialize with members of the parish while others quickly leave out the front door after snagging more doughnuts than necessary. Kurt and Autumn linger near their pew. Ash joins them. ASH So glad you two could make it. Ash embraces his sister. He takes a strand of Autumns hair and pulls it across her face, under her nose, attempting to create a moustache something he has been doing for ages. Autumn laughs and pulls away. AUTUMN You know, I could do that to you, now. Considering that mop youve got. ASH I keep meaning to cut it. Ah, well. How are The Nuts? AUTUMN Still nutty. ASH Too bad you couldnt manage to drag them along. AUTUMN You know them. Speaking of nutty here. Autumn places the St. Christopher medal back in her brothers hand. Ash grins.

'*!

ASH I was getting afraid to leave the parish house without it. Ash turns and nods at Kurt, who awkwardly nods in return. ASH (CONT.) How are you, Kurt? KURT Fine, thanks. ASH Hows your mom doing? KURT Same. Ash smiles sadly, understanding. ASH I keep her in my daily prayers. You as well. Kurt nods at Ash, and then turns to Autumn. KURT Im going to go wait outside. (turns to Ash) It was nice seeing you. ASH You too. Kurt leaves and walks out the front door. ASH He seemed anxious to bolt. AUTUMN Hes afraid of you. ASH Of me? Im a priest well, almost. AUTUMN You make him uncomfortable. You always have. ASH

! (playfully) You have strange friends, Autumn. AUTUMN I bet he makes better company than Father Carletti.

(+!

ASH Ill have you know that Father Carletti can be a hoot, given the right circumstances. You should hear him sing opera around the rectory. His La donna mobile keeps away the Things That Go Bump in the Night. AUTUMN They could film a hit reality show in there. ASH Dont run the idea by him. Hed probably do it. I should start a blog chronicling the daily shenanigans. Speaking of which - you still working on that project? AUTUMN Um, yeah. Not recently, though. Ive had a lot going on with school and such. Its still pretty major, though. Last months traffic was the highest its ever been. ASH And Kurt? Are the two of you still doing it together? AUTUMN (hesitantly) Yeah. ASH (beat) Is everything okay? AUTUMN Fine. ASH I know Ive been locked away in the rectory these past few years, but I can still perceive Human Distress, you know. Especially yours. AUTUMN (poking fun; an attmept to divert the subject) Were you perceiving any Human Distress during the mass?

! Ash gives her a You Dont Fool Me Look. ASH Spill.

("!

AUTUMN (CONT.) (I might as well) Its Kurt. Hes hes been scaring me a little, actually. ASH More than usual? Do I need to bring Deacon Farrell over to his house and set him straight? Autumn doesnt respond with laughter; she has become somber since her admission to Ash. Her brother takes note of Autumns seriousness, and frowns. ASH (CONT.) He hasnt hurt you, has he? AUTUMN No, no. Hes just been more withdrawn lately, I suppose. I havent seen as much of him as I usually do. ASH Well, I suspect its about his mother. It must be hard to watch someone you love fade away before your own eyes. AUTUMN I dont know about love. Its more like familiarity. Shes been there all his life, and now its like shes still there, but shes gone, too. At least, thats how he described it once. Or something like that. I dont get an awful lot out of him. Ash throws an arm around Autumns shoulders. ASH Just keep being a good friend. Thats all you can do, really. (beat) I know you and The Nuts arent big into praying - or religion at all, for that matter - but if you ever feel like youve exhausted all of your outlets, God is always there to listen. AUTUMN Do they tell you to say that?

(#!

ASH Yes. But I also sincerely believe it. Ash wraps his arms around Autumn and embraces her. ASH (CONT.) Ive got another mass to prepare for, so I have to go now. It really was great to see you. Send my love to The Nuts, yeah? AUTUMN It was nice seeing you, too. Mom and Dad miss you, you know. They wont admit it, but I know they have no fun watching Jeopardy with me. You should come over one day. You should see how much fur Kat has shed all over your quilt. She sleeps there every night, she probably misses you more than Autumn stops before her voice breaks. Ash gives her shoulder a final squeeze. ASH Take care. Ash walks toward the front of the church; a few remaining voices are heard out on the lawn. He steps through, closing the door behind him. Autumn is alone in the church. Her hand is in her pocket she has been fingering an object throughout Ashs farewell. Pulling out the gris-gris amulet, she turns it over in her fingers, then replaces it in her pocket. Autumn crosses over to the small arrangement of prayer candles by the wall. She lights one, then exits the church herself. INT. KURTS BEDROOM - DAY Halfway through the school week, though that makes no difference to Kurt, who hasnt been to school in three days. Kurt weighs himself and takes his shirt off to lessen his weight on the scale. Kurt scrutinizes his ribs, shoulder blades, backbone.

($!

EXT. COURTYARD - DAY - CONCURRENTLY Autumn sits alone at her and Kurts table in the school courtyard. Her laptop is open before her. Autumn draws out her cell phone and dials Kurts number. INT. KURTS BEDROOM - DAY - CONCURRENTLY Kurt, still in the bedroom, notices his phone ringing, and ignores the call. He starts to dress himself. EXT. COURTYARD - DAY - CONCURRENTLY Autumn is directed to voicemail. She immediately knows Kurt has ignored the call. While simultaneously browsing the blog on her laptop, she leaves a message. AUTUMN Your punishment for blatantly ignoring me is that Im leaving you a voicemail. I hope the notification stays on your phone until next Christmas. (beat) Karl didnt demand to know your whereabouts today. I guess by the third day, they stop having attitude and assume youre on your deathbed. But I know youre not. If you were, youd have asked me to bring the chapter exam to your house so you could take it and get one more 98% before croaking. The phone beeps. Autumns time limit on the voicemail has expired. She tosses the phone aside and turns her attention to the blog; she now scrolls through the inbox investigatively. INT. KURTS BEDROOM - DAY - CONCURRENTLY Kurt is now fully dressed, looking slightly more dapper than usual. He dons a deep-burgundy velvet frock coat that even he rarely wears. INT. CHAPEL - DAY - CONCURRENTLY Absalom, seated on his sofa, enjoys a glass of wine in the company of cats. He touches up one of his older pieces; adds a faint rosy tint to the cheeks of the deceased young man in the portrait.

! EXT. COURTYARD - DAY - CONCURRENTLY

(%!

Autumn sifts through the discarded messages in the inbox of the blog. She comes across an old message, one that Kurt clearly thought hed done away with, which reads: I sincerely hope my music did not scare you away. I would very much like to see you again. INT. KURTS HOUSE - DAY - CONCURRENTLY Kurt exits his room, quietly passes his mothers bedroom (soft music can be heard through the cracked door), and leaves through the front. EXT. COURTYARD - DAY It is now Friday. Kurt has missed every day up until today. Kurt and Autumn are seated together in the courtyard, as they had been scenes earlier; this time, however, a palpable tension hangs in the air. Kurt scrolls through the blog at a dizzying pace while Autumn stares at him, her eyes full of concern. AUTUMN (shakes bag enticingly) I have pretzels today. Kurts eyes remain fixated on the laptop screen. KURT Im not hungry. AUTUMN Are you not feeling well? KURT (annoyed) No, Im just not hungry. Im entitled to not want anything to eat. AUTUMN (defensively) Because people in good health miss four school days at a time. And ignore the phone calls of their best friend. KURT

! I was taking time off.

(&!

AUTUMN Time off from what? Or is running a blog really that exhausting? Because I wouldnt know. Considering that you never keep me informed on recent activity. Kurt ceases his fixation on the screen and turns to Autumn. KURT Thats not my job. You can check it yourself, you know. AUTUMN You mean you still havent changed the password to something else? Something only you know? KURT (ignores insinuation) We have a fanbase, Autumn. Someone needs to keep it updated. AUTUMN Next to food, water, and shelter, maintaining Memento Mori is crucial to thriving. KURT I dont know whether you think I forced you out of this or something, but I didnt. Fizzling out was your own decision, and now Im in the wrong for maintaining interest? AUTUMN Youve got to know its much more than that. Youre missing school, youre not eating well, eating less than usual I practically have to pull words from your mouth if I want to have so much as a conversation KURT Actually, now that you mention it I did bring lunch. Kurt produces a plastic baggie from his satchel and empties a colorful variety of pills and capsules into his palm. A few are vitamins; others have more dubious purposes. Kurt swallows the pills with a swig of water and tosses back his head to get everything down. AUTUMN

! What in the hell was that? KURT Lunch. AUTUMN Do you think youre a fucking rock star?

('!

KURT And youre the pissy old lady in the music video who wags her finger at all the teenagers. Autumn, having had enough, gathers her things and begins to stand. AUTUMN You know what? You just let me know when youre ready to act decent again. Because I dont have time for this shit. Its not funny to me. Autumn starts to exit the courtyard, pauses, and turns. AUTUMN(CONT.) Pennys show is still a thing tomorrow at eight. Shed really like to see you. Autumn leaves the courtyard. INT. AUTUMNS BEDROOM - EVENING Autumn is dressed, by her unique standards, for an evening out. She sits at a piano in her room and thunders out finger exercises from a Hanon book. The sound is not too pleasant, as her purpose for playing is clearly to control her agitation. Occasionally she looks out the nearby window, huffs, and continues with gusto. Two raps sound briskly from the other side of Autumns closed door. Without waiting for a response, the door creaks open and Renes head pops in. RENE Are you trying to collapse the kitchen ceiling? Autumn is bemused for a moment before realizing Rene is referring to her daughters playing which can clearly be heard from the floor below. She stops playing, drops her hands in her lap, and slouches her shoulders glumly.

((!

AUTUMN Sorry. RENE Have you got any candles up here? AUTUMN (gestures) Some on the desk. Rene sweeps across the room with a fluttering of her long skirt. She picks through Autumns selection, which is mostly lumpy stumps that have spilled over and cooled on the desktop. RENE No, these are no good. Do you have any solid black ones? In good condition? AUTUMN I dont think so, but you could check the cellar. (suddenly suspicious) What do you need them for? RENE Im trying something. AUTUMN (half-joking) Youre not opening up a portal to the Netherworld, are you? RENE Dont be ridiculous. I need to concentrate some positive energy in this house. I dont like how things have been feeling around here lately. AUTUMN How do you plan to do that? RENE By summoning benign forces and securing their presence here. At least thats what I hope to do. But I cant do anything until I find some damn candles. AUTUMN Try not to summon the souls of the damned instead.

! RENE Ill do my best.

()!

AUTUMN While youre at it, maybe you could find a way to summon Kurt over here, since hes twenty minutes late. His phone has been off since yesterday, so maybe preternatural interference could be my last resort. RENE (rummaging around Autumns shelves) If I manage to summon any particular in-the-flesh human being to my house, Id like it to be my son. Rene finds a few candles that satisfy her needs, and she blusters out of the room, a faint lavender breeze lingering. Autumn sits morosely at the piano a bit longer. She then stands, scoops up her bag, takes her bike helmet from a nearby peg, and leaves the room without cheer. INT. CHAPEL - NIGHT Kurt is seated comfortably on a wooden chest, which is covered with an old blanket. He sips liberally from a glass of wine and studies one of Absaloms portraits. Absalom, basking in the attention and obviously pleased with his audience, flits around the room with a drink of his own. In a rare moment of colorfulness, he is in the midst of telling a story with considerable animation, and is evidently a little inebriated. ABSALOM (a mile a minute) ...and he was so husky. I couldnt believe how sorely Id underestimated his size. I, admittedly, am not the most robust of fellows, so you can imagine the absolute onus that was dragging him from the back door of the bar to the car. It didnt help that he was completely blotto from the chloral hydrate. It was like lugging a sack of mulch that had been left in the rain for three weeks. And the best part was the commentary we received on the way out. A Mexican gentleman in an enormous cowboy hat caught sight of us and shouted, Aieeeeee, looks like someone had a little too much tequila! And I just laughed it off and playfully tousled the guys hair, slapped his cheek as I heaved him

(*! into the back seat. Oh, this ones impossible! You dont know the half of it! I dont know why I bother with him at all! And the drive home was a fiasco all its own. He kept rolling onto the floor whenever I put on the brakes.

Kurt, slightly buzzed, looks up from the portrait that he has been studying. KURT This is the one of him? Absalom crosses over to look at the photo Kurt is holding. ABSALOM Oh, yes. When you look closely, its quite obviously one of my earliest works. I was still unsure of how long to keep the shutter open, so his face looks like a full moon. You cant even see his nose. And I hadnt yet considered to remove all the smaller details. See that eyebrow piercing? I shouldve done something about that. KURT Thats how I first realized, actually. ABSALOM I beg your pardon? KURT The ear holes. A vict - subject - in another one of your photos. He had stretched earlobes. Absalom smiles. ABSALOM I see. Yes. That one was taken a short time later, if I recall correctly. Over time, of course, I honed my craft. I avoided anyone with conspicuously modern hairstyles, body modifications, facial features. I became more focused on the aesthetic of the final outcome, the authenticity. (beat) And, of course, I improved in other areas as well. For instance, with Quentin, the gentleman in that ghastly photo - it was my first time altering anyones drink, and I ended up putting in too much of the key ingredient. (shrugs nonchalantly) He never did come to. Shame, too. I was hoping to keep him around for a bit in order to slim him down.

! Absalom strides over to a chair and sits across from Kurt. KURT And nobody missed him? ABSALOM Freighthoppers are virtually invisible as it is. No ID documents, most of them, no bank accounts, records. They leave small footprints, if any. (beat) Like me. KURT Preston Hackett

)+!

ABSALOM He was already reported missing before we crossed paths by happenstance. Some angsty alternative Florida teenager who dropped out to ride the rails. Not too uncommon. Many Ive encountered dabbled in that crowd. KURT In ninth grade, I knew a junior who snuck on a cargo ship and went to England. ABSALOM Did he make it there? KURT Dont know. Never heard from him again. ABSALOM Perhaps he hit some hard traveling. (beat) Ive prattled on for so long now, I do this every time I drink, its quite embarrassing. Though I try not to get too careless, lest that Mexican gentleman come around again and mock me. I do, however, have something for you a surprise of sorts. To express my appreciation of your companionship. KURT Where? ABSALOM (childishly mischievous) Somewhere in this room. KURT

! Where? ABSALOM Somewhere in this room. KURT Are you trying to get me to play a guessing game? Absalom crosses his legs and watches in anticipation.

)"!

Kurt huffs, stands, and goes to the other side of the room. ABSALOM Youre cold. INT. CLUB - NIGHT - CONCURRENTLY Autumn is seated at her and Kurts usual booth, though Kurt, of course, is absent. This time, the tabletop is bare, save for a sweating glass of water on a coaster. Autumns arms are folded rigidly as she attempts to enjoy herself, but her mind is clearly elsewhere. Autumn draws her phone herself, she shoves it screen. Seconds later, messages; she has none from her pocket. Irritated with out of sight before glancing at the she pulls it back out and checks her from Kurt.

After a brief pause, she opens internet browser of her phone. The page with the photo of Preston Hackett is still open from a month ago. Autumn closes the page and attempts to load the blog. After repeatedly refreshing the page, she furrows her brow and stares in disbelief at the message she is presented with: 404 NOT FOUND. The lights dim as Penny steps out from behind a curtain on stage. Wearing a sleek black dress, she resembles a femme fetale from a noir film, a veil over her immaculately madeup face. PENNY I hope you all dont mind the deviation from my ordinary glitz and glitter. I woke up with those heebie-jeebie vibrations this morning. Well, I dont want them. So Ill just have to pass them on to yall. The audience laughs warmly.

! Penny begins to sing Robert Johnsons Me and The Devil Blues, and her voice drifts over into the next scene. INT. CHAPEL - NIGHT - CONCURRENTLY

)#!

Kurt returns to the chest that he had initially been seated on. ABSALOM Much warmer. Kurt kneels down to the chest upon which he sat. He fidgets with a rusty lock briefly before it clicks. Absalom stares at Kurt like a gushing grandmother waiting for a child to open her birthday gift. KURT Its been right under my ass all this time? (beat) Its camera equipment, isnt it? The lack of response has apparently convinced Kurt that his venture is correct. He briskly opens the trunk with calculated nonchalance, and peers inside. Staggered, Kurt lets the lid fall and slam shut. ABSALOM (wounded) You dont like it. KURT Its not camera equipment. ABSALOM Were you truly hoping for that? I would hate to disappoint you. But this is much better, wouldnt you say? Kurt slowly eases the lid open again and peers inside. He is visibly fascinated, though startled both of these reactions eclipse his horror - if he even is horrified. KURT Is he

)$! ABSALOM Dead? You do ask that an awful lot. But, no, he shouldnt be. Last I checked, he was breathing, albeit shallowly.

Absalom walks over to the chest and kneels. He reaches in and gently lifts the upper half of the young transient man he encountered earlier. Near-starved and deathly pale, the mans closed eyes are sunken deep into his sallow face, like those of a consumptive. He takes in rapid, ragged breaths through his parted lips. Absalom cradles the transient like a sick infant; the transients head lolls onto his shoulder, as he is too weak to even hold it up. ABSALOM (CONT.) Ive already taken the initiative to shave him. I cant abide scraggly beards. Who knows what kind of vermin hides in there. The hair needs maintenance, though. Get me that comb on the bureau, please. Kurt does not move. KURT (barely a whisper) Do you do this with all of them? ABSALOM Usually I dont keep them waiting around this long. But I didnt want to share him with you prematurely that is, before I thought you were ready. (beat) He does look frightful. Hell probably just slip away on his own very shortly. Id rather things didnt happen that way, of course. Absalom lightly pats the mans concave cheek until his eyes sluggishly blink open. He barely has any discernible human emotion left in his countenance. KURT Can he speak? ABSALOM Its likely. Though hed probably rather conserve his energy. And Im sure hes in desperate need of water.

! KURT Should I get him some? I could see if ABSALOM Kurt. KURT Yes? ABSALOM (points) The comb, please. Kurt fetches the comb for Absalom, who tugs it through the mans tangled hair like a hospital orderly caring for an invalid. Gradually, the mans eyes widen as he comes out of yet another period of unconsciousness; delirious, he looks around and takes in his surroundings once more. His eyes become fraught with terror, though he is too feeble to speak, move, or even make sound.

)%!

ABSALOM (CONT.) (without looking up, still tending to the man) Kurt, theres an old sideboard in the other room Ive modified it into a makeshift dresser of sorts. Theres a pair of trousers and a collared shirt on top of it. Could you fetch them for me? Kurt stands and swiftly heads toward the tiny back room. After passing through a narrow doorway, he finds himself in front of the sideboard. There are stacks of bibles and hymn books, withered by the heat and musty air, that have been relegated to the corner of the room. Against the wall is a small bed laden with blankets and pillows, pushed snugly against the mildewed wallpaper. Kurt double-takes and looks closer at a worn photograph pinned over the bed with care. The photo depicts a dignified, middle-aged man, seated at a piano. Kurt reaches for the photo. ABSALOM (CONT.) (from the other room)(humorously)

)&! Sometime soon, please. We dont need to wait until he goes into rigor mortis you dont want to see how ghastly that is.

Kurt draws away and curiously examines the sideboard the wood is fleshy and rotten; the passing time carves away as pieces accumulate on the floor below. As Absalom had said, a pile of meticulously folded clothes is resting atop the sideboard. ABSALOM (CONT.) (from the other room; with tongue-in-cheek impatience) Theyre right on top. Kurt seizes the clothes and walks back into the other room. KURT The smell in there. Its like The Goodwill flooded after a six-day rain and Serv-Pro never showed up to clean the place. ABSALOM You get used to it. Ive smelled worse than Putrid Thrift Store and Mildewy Bibles in my time. Our friend here wont be able to smell it on the clothes, anyways. (points to the chest) You can set them on there. Kurt deposits the pile of clothes on to the chest and then takes a seat next to them. Absalom hoists the transient to his feet and lifts him out of the trunk. Aside from his boxer shorts, the transient is undressed, his ribs and hipbones jutting through the sallow skin. His knees buckle and he collapses into a kneeling position. Absalom hoists him back up, though the man sags in his grip. From the transients wrist, Absalom unties a worn scrap of a bandanna that the transient wears around his upper arm. He pockets the item. ABSALOM Ill hold onto this for you. (beat, before addressing Kurt) Hes no flyweight, but hes certainly lighter than he was. Pay attention to this, now. Its terribly hideous and

)'! barbaric, Im afraid, though its most effective method and leaves the least carnage behind. Especially if we want to keep his departure on our terms not his.

Absalom loops his arms underneath the transients armpits before cupping his hands and placing them on the back of transients scalp. He inhales sharply before he steadily pushes the transients head forward, arching the mans back and bringing his chin ever closer to his chest. The mans body twitches before ceasing to move at all. Kurt, sitting perfectly still, looks on. ABSALOM As you can see, he is now completely at our disposal. There is no mess; no damage to his body at all. (beat) Bring me the clothes. INT. CHAPEL - NIGHT - MONTAGE As the soft music of the record player continues, brief scenes highlight Absalom dressing the man, then applying makeup to accentuate aspects of the his visage. Absalom hangs a heavy white sheet on the wall and arranges a small assortment of items vase, book, clock on a pie table. Next to the table is a modest chair. Absalom props the man upright in the chair and poses him accordingly, so that the stance looks as lifelike as possible. He places the mans hand on the book and bends his legs. He crosses the legs at the ankle and tucks the feet under the chair. Absalom uses a thin piece of wire to pull back the mans head and keep it from flopping forward. He makes eye contact with Kurt, who watches the entire process with intense interest. ABSALOM I feel like I should make a quip about one keeping ones head up. Anyway, the wire its the least conspicuous way. Unless youd rather drape yourself in black and have him sit on your lap.

)(!

Absalom makes finishing touches and stands back, satisfied with the display. As if suddenly remembering, Absalom pulls the bandana scrap from his pocket and hands it to Kurt. ABSALOM (CONT.) For you. Absalom adjusts the camera and shoots. EXT. KURTS HOUSE - DAY The next morning. Autumn, looking somewhat dishevelled, approaches Kurts front door. The house looks unkempt from the front; the landscape is withered, the welcome mat is rumpled. The shades of the front windows are drawn tightly down. Autumn climbs the steps and rings the doorbell. It makes no sound, as it does not even work. She knocks at the door instead. After waiting a moment, Autumn knocks again. She waits even longer, but to no avail. Autumn turns and glumly descends the steps. The front door opens. CORINNE Hello? Autumn turns to see Ms. Betancourt standing in the doorway, gazing at Autumn unfamiliarly and vacantly. AUTUMN Good morning, Ms. Betancourt. Im sorry if I woke you. CORINNE Oh, its no bother. Ive been awake for quite some time. (with sudden recognition) My word. Giselle, thats you, right? Its been ages. How are Ray and the girls? AUTUMN I they theyre fine. I CORINNE

))! How long did I keep you waiting? Id have had my son, Kurt, answer the door sooner, but he doesnt appear to be around. Probably out with friends. Or at a rock show, something silly like that. Youre lucky the girls still arent old enough to go running around all night.

Autumn stands before Kurts mother and smiles wanly. CORINNE (CONT.) Why dont you step in? Ill make you a cup of tea. You can tell me all about what youve been up to lately. Still writing for that magazine? AUTUMN Ms. Betancourt, I CORINNE Oh, stop with the formality, dear. I know were married women, but were still sisters. Autumn attempts to hide the expression of heartbreak that spreads across her face, but she can hardly help herself. AUTUMN (in a muted voice) I have to get going now, but it was great seeing you. CORINNE Oh, but tea would just take a minute. I havent heard from you in so long. Autumn tries to suppress her heartbreak once more. CORINNE (CONT.) Oh, alright. I know how busy you are. But do come visit me soon. Kurt, my son, hes taking me to the park today its a regular thing. I would love it if you joined me sometime. AUTUMN Of course. CORINNE Well, Ill let you go. Wait till Kurt finds out he wasnt even home when his favorite aunt stopped by. Autumn opens her mouth to say a farewell, but finds herself unable to convey any words. She smiles again and walks away. Kurts mother closes the door.

)*!

INT. CHAPEL - MORNING The same morning. Kurt is sacked out on the divan, his knees and arms folded close to his body. A ratty blanket has been thrown across him. An empty bottle of wine lies nearby. His head will be singing when he finally sits up. He is awoken by the scuffing sound of somebody making their way in from outside. Kurt lethargically looks up as Absalom strolls in, like an English gentleman who has just taken an airy walk on the beach. In place of a walking stick, a shovel swings from his hand, lightly caked with fresh mud. Aside from his usual frock coat and tie, he is clad in a nightshirt and ornate dressing gown that resembles a tattered flag after twelve years whipping around in high winds. On his feet are well-worn tassel slippers. Kurt yawns and stretches as he sits up on the divan. He winces as he realizes the headache he has been saddled with. At his feet, a disrupted cat lets out a single yowl of protest, jumps down, and slinks away. ABSALOM Id offer you an herbal remedy for that, but I havent been to the market in days. Bewildered, Kurt stares around the room. He shifts his glance over to where the transient had been positioned the night before; however, the corner has been stripped of all equipment, with nothing left but the bare white sheet, now haphazardly hanging from the wall by one corner. The question on his face becomes evident. ABSALOM (CONT.) Did you think Id keep him sitting around until the End of Days? KURT So whatd you do with him? Donate his body to science? ABSALOM I dumped him right outside the office of the mortuary science department at Beaufort Community College. KURT

! (acknowledges the shovel) Did you bury him?

*+!

ABSALOM No, I already told you, I dropped him off at the college. Kurt sinks his face into the cushion and stifles an annoyed groan. ABSALOM I dont know whether thats the hangover, or if you found my joke to be in poor taste, but yes I buried him. KURT In the above-ground tomb? ABSALOM Oh, goodness, no, that things already more crowded than a tenement building. At least five generations of Rounsavilles are packed in there like sardines. (beat) (gestures yonder) The smaller graveyard for some of the slaves is further back in the trees, almost at the edge of the swamp. The ground is more pliant there. And the dirt is already familiar with bones, flesh, that sort of thing. KURT A slave graveyard? Are the headstones marked? ABSALOM Some are. Very poorly. Why do you ask? KURT Have you seen any that say Kurt puts his hand to his head in concentration as he attempts to remember a name. However, his hangover and exhaustion have rendered the name Unretrievable at the moment. Absalom wipes off his hands and removes the dressing gown. He throws it over the back of a chair and pulls off the nightshirt as he steps into his back room. ABSALOM (from the other room) Any that say...

*"!

KURT Never mind. Absalom emerges from the room, dressed in his everyday clothes. ABSALOM I see. (beat) Come on, now. I wouldve had you assist me in the disposal of our friend, but I think you wouldve roared and bitten my hand off if I tried to wake you. But this this you cant miss. Kurt drags himself to his feet and stands there, looking like a millstone is tied around his neck, still draped in his blanket. KURT Cant miss what? ABSALOM If youd prefer it, I could drop the film off at a local drugstore and have them develop it. Kurt drops the blanket to the floor and suddenly becomes quite enthused. KURT You mean could I actually be of use? ABSALOM Developing tintypes is quite simple, really. It could take only a few minutes if we were economical with our time. But, alas (gestures to empty wine bottles) we werent. (beat) Clearly efficiency is not something written in the Celestial Bodies for either of us. Absalom turns and heads for the Charnel House. Kurt follows shortly after, still massaging his throbbing temples. Suddenly, Kurt comes to an abrupt realization. KURT

! Celestial Bodies INT. PENNYS USED BOOKSTORE (SYNCRETISM) - DAY Later that day. Penny and Autumn are seated in armchairs; Penny has placed tea before both of them, but neither is drinking it. Pennys brow is creased with worry, while Autumn still appears dejected, as per her new usual. PENNY Its Celeste. AUTUMN ...What?

*#!

PENNY Its no coincidence that hes behaving like this after visiting that property. I told you all how risky that was. Now there really aint a doubt in my mind that something malevolents still hanging around there after all these years. AUTUMN I mean, he hasnt been dunking baby rabbits in acid. Hes just acting stranger than usual is all. Ive been to the Rounsaville place just as many times as he has, and I havent been missing three days of school at a time, or being mysteriously away from home at strange hours, or well he deleted the blog last night. Im not devastated, necessarily, because I havent been as involved recently, anyway, and you know how Ive felt about it after that incident. But it scared me. That was his Pride and Joy, and to just delete it like that, it was PENNY So its gone now? Good. Its not as though anything but more trouble could come of it. Autumn remains silent out of mild annoyance. PENNY(CONT.) And you, Ms. Autumn, have a much stronger spirit than that boy. People with weak wills are more susceptible to the draw of The Dark. Ive seen it before.

*$! AUTUMN Kurt isnt weak-willed. You shouldve seen him try to muscle me out of the entire entry on the Rounsaville place. He wanted it to be nothing but those stupid portraits we found, all my hard work be damned, all my descriptions couldve gone right down the shitter for all he cared. PENNY Being stubborn and arrogant is not the same as having a strong spirit. Kurt manufactures an ego to make up for his minds lack of Intestinal Fortitude. AUTUMN Well, he is dealing with family stuff on the side. This morning, I stopped by the house, and his mother thought I was her sister. PENNY But Autumn, you and I both know that his Mamas condition is nothing new. You can be in denial if you wanna be, but Kurt has some ulterior influences weighing in on that mind of his, whether you believe it or not.

Suddenly, a loud crash is heard from the back of the store. Penny and Autumn turn their heads to find Elmer scrambling to gather a heap of books that one of the cats has knocked over. PENNY (CONT.) Sometimes I feel like Celeste done taken control of my family a long time ago. AUTUMN (takes advantage of the lightening in mood) Not to mention Autumn reaches into a pocket and draws out her gris-gris amulet. AUTUMN (CONT.) How could either of us be driven toward The Dark when weve got these? PENNY (in jest, but with a hint of seriousness) You put that back in your pocket before you lose it. Then you would be in some trouble, strong-willed or not.

*%!

Autumn slips the gris-gris back into her pocket and stands. She gathers her bag and jacket. PENNY (CONT.) Go home and relax yourself. Dont go off and worry your head about that child anymore today. AUTUMN It keeps me grounded. The only reason Kurts still here is because of my incessant worrying. (she laughs) Its a pivotal part of our friendship. PENNY Sounds like you gotta be his Mama more than his friend. AUTUMN Well, he needs one of those, too, doesnt he? From the back room, the unmistakable sound of a cat throwing up is heard. ELMER (from back room) NO! NEWSPAPERS! DO IT ON THE NEWSPAPERS! The cat goes Blah. It is too late. ELMER (CONT.) COME ON! PENNY, FRIZZLE JUST THREW UP ON (beat) THE FOUNTAINHEAD BY AYN RAND. PENNY Thats fine by me. Amidst the chaos, Autumns exit is punctuated by the tink of the wind chimes that hang from the door. EXT. KURTS HOUSE - DAY Late evening. Autumns bike stops in front of Kurts house. This time, Autumn approaches the garage door and peers through the window. The garage is empty.

*&!

Autumn goes around to the front door and knocks a few times (she prepares to ring the doorbell first, then remembers its kaputt). She hopes for, but does not expect, an answer. Autumn roots around in her bag before removing a single house key. With it, she unlocks the front door, cracks it open, and through the narrow opening, peeks her head in. AUTUMN Kurt? Ms. Betancourt? Theres no response. Autumn steps in and closes the door behind her. INT. KURTS HOUSE - DAY Autumn attempts a final ploy at checking for anyone in the house. AUTUMN (purposely obnoxious) This would be a great opportunity to go through Kurts private documents! Unsurprisingly, there is no response. AUTUMN I swear, if I walk in a room and find Ms. Betancourt standing behind one of the doors... Autumn heads up the stairs cautiously. EXT. KURTS BEDROOM - DAY Kurts bedroom door is closed. Autumn attempts to nudge it open, but finds herself unable to do so completely. She pokes her head in, and finds a pile of various articles hindering her from opening the door. She sweeps it aside with her foot and enters the room. INT. KURTS BEDROOM- DAY

! The room is in a highly unusual state of disarray. Clothes are strewn about aimlessly, pyramids of books have toppled over onto the floor, and the blinds are drawn tightly, giving the room an unprecedented degree of bedlam. She shuts the door behind her and flips his bedroom light on. Autumn precariously tiptoes through Kurts room as though it were a frozen lake in the middle of winter. When she reaches his desk, she leafs through scads of paper, but finds nothing of interest. After closer scrutiny, Autumn finds a miniature drawer tucked away neatly underneath the desk.

*'!

Its locked, so she grasps the little knob, struggles for a short time, and soon manages to pry it open with sheer force. Inside, she finds the photograph of the transient from earlier, and although she isnt aware of his identity, Autumn is visibly unnerved to have found it in Kurts possession. She lifts it from from the drawer, but finds herself unable to look at it any longer, and tosses it back as though it were unsavory smut. The bedroom door is abruptly shoved open, startling Autumn, who swiftly turns around to view Kurt in the doorway. He looks like he has been spending the last week sleeping in the back of a moving van. AUTUMN Youre back. Kurt looms there in stony silence. AUTUMN (CONT.) (weakly) Is your mom at the park? Kurt advances into the room, careless of stepping on the debris that litters the floor. KURT

! (contemptuously) What are you doing in my room?

*(!

Autumn backs up against the desk like an animal thats been cornered. AUTUMN You were MIA the past twenty-four hours, so I stopped by to see if you were okay. KURT And did going through my things guide you to a definitive conclusion? AUTUMN Yes, actually. (without breaking eye-contact with Kurt, Autumn removes the portrait from its drawer.) Whats this? KURT Its a memento mori portrait, Autumn. I figured youd know that. AUTUMN Dont even try it. The Demby House bantering days are over. KURT Im crushed. AUTUMN Why do you have this? Silence. AUTUMN (CONT.) (her voice trembles as she speaks) Why do you have this? KURT How did you even get in the house? AUTUMN You know, at one point, I guess you trusted me enough to have a key. Now you answer my question.

*)!

Autumn takes it out and tosses it on the chaotic floor with a metallic clatter. KURT I can see how that trust thing has worked out. AUTUMN You want to talk about trust? Really? Lets talk about this, then. (brandishes the photo again) Lets talk about how youve had this thing in your possession for god-knows-how-long, and you never told me. Then again, you never tell me a goddamn thing anymore, so I guess thats your new norm. KURT (shakes his head in disgusted irritation) Get out of my room. AUTUMN Because I THOUGHT we put all these back where we found them, but apparently I was wrong, because here this is in my hand, and that can only mean one of a few things KURT GET OUT. AUTUMN NO. Answer the question. KURT Im not on trial here. AUTUMN No, youre not, but if you were, Im sure you could construct a good defense for Not Guilty By Reason of Insanity. (beat) Whats it for? Its not for the blog, because I saw what you did with that. (beat) Is it for you? (the revulsion in her voice becomes apparent as she continues to speak) Is it the first in some sick collection of photographs that youre collecting? Do you have all the others, too? KURT

! Get out.

**!

AUTUMN (her eyes swell, with tears, but she doesnt outright cry) Why do you have this, Kurt? KURT (coldly) You wouldnt understand. AUTUMN Did you go back for it? Did you just have a little jaunt to the plantation? Took some pictures, got some souvenirs, played with the cats, called it a day? KURT (overlapping) You have three seconds. AUTUMN Or what? Ive tried to help you, but whatever this is, youre not taking me down with you. Im going to the police with this in person this time. And its going into an evidence locker, along with every other sick photograph from that place. KURT (dangerously) Youre not doing that. AUTUMN The fuck Im not. Autumn storms toward the door, skirting Kurt with a wide berth. Kurt blocks her path. KURT Give it to me. AUTUMN Get out of my way. (a beat as neither backs down) (knows she is about to press on a soft spot) I could knock you down like a cardboard cutout. Maybe youd be more sturdy if youd eaten more pretzels when I offered them to you

"++!

In a sudden rage, Kurt lunges for Autumns arm and tries to wrench the photo from her hand. She does not let go, and instead the portrait becomes decidedly damaged crumpled and torn. Kurt swiftly kicks Autumn in the shin multiple times, and she staggers backward. He eventually regains possession of the portrait. AUTUMN You kicked me. Have you lost your goddamn mind? (beat) Take it if you want, but Im going to the police. You going to stop me from doing that, too? KURT Have fun convincing Sheriff Coffey. It isnt like he thought you were full of shit the first time. Kurt turns on his heels and leaves the room. Autumn remains seated on the floor, on the verge of defeat. She surveys the room around her and her eyes land on a small scrap of a bandanna. EXT. KURTS HOUSE - DAY Night is falling quickly. Autumn trudges out of Kurts house and looks for her bike on the sidewalk. It is nowhere to be found. AUTUMN Son of a EXT. BACK ROAD - DAY Kurt, on Autumns bike, races down the road at break-neck speed. He is shown turning down Old Wye Road. EXT. AUTUMNS HOUSE - NIGHT Dejected once more, Autumn treks across her front lawn, clearly after a lengthy walk. She climbs the front porch and finds the door unlocked, though the lights are off. INT. AUTUMNS HOUSE - NIGHT

"+"!

She picks up a large piece of decorative driftwood and enters the house, holding it at the ready. A light is on in the kitchen. Stepping into the room, she prepares to face whatever intruder is there. INT. AUTUMNS HOUSE - NIGHT Autumn drops her bludgeoning weapon to the ground. AUTUMN (relieved, yet distraught) Ash. Ash is seated at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Kat lies at his feet. Taken aback by Autumns presence and appearance, Ash stands and approaches his sister with a few hesitant steps. ASH Autumn. You look... well, you look terrible. Whats are you where are Mom and Dad? AUTUMN At the dollar theater. ASH (laughs nervously) Of course. (beat) Look, is everything alright? AUTUMN No. Its not. ASH (beat) Its Kurt? AUTUMN Its Kurt. And its something I never wouldve expected we need to Ash, I need your help. ASH What can I do?

! AUTUMN I need a ride. ASH What happened? Is it something serious? AUTUMN Im afraid that Kurt is going to hurt himself. ASH What? How?

"+#!

AUTUMN Ill explain it to you in the car. Lets just go quickly, though, before ASH Where are we going? Kurts house? AUTUMN No. ASH The police? AUTUMN (deliberating) No. ASH Autumn, if you need my help, youve got to tell me where were going. AUTUMN Ill help you with the directions. EXT. BACK ROAD - NIGHT A black sedan zooms around a curve and approaches a hidden entrance. INT. BLACK SEDAN - NIGHT Ash drives, his eyes fixated on the road. A St. Christopher medallion, affixed to the mirror, swings around. Autumn is seated in the passengers seat.

! ASH I dont believe this.

"+$!

AUTUMN Well, Im still struggling with it myself, so its not like youre alone there. ASH So these pictures youre talking about - the people in them theyre dead? AUTUMN Yes. Recently. ASH How? I mean, if they died recently, who killed them? AUTUMN I dont know. ASH Was it Kurt? AUTUMN Ash, I dont even know. Its what Im trying to figure out. (beat) Do you think it couldve been him? ASH Dont ask me. Its just are you sure you want to do this? Because I have no idea where we are and I still dont entirely comprehend whats going on. AUTUMN Who else can possibly get involved without thinking Im batshit insane? ASH This isnt something for two civilians to meddle around in. If this is about murder AUTUMN The turn is up here. On the right.

INT. CHAPEL - NIGHT

"+%!

Absalom, with a glass of wine, reads a tattered book. Kurt bursts through the door breathlessly and stands there a moment, looking dishevelled. Absalom is briefly caught off guard before he realizes who it is. ABSALOM Thank god its you. I dont think Id have had the brawn to fight off any intruding street toughs. KURT Youve got to get out of here. ABSALOM Excellent idea. Ive been thinking the same thing. This place has grown nauseating. KURT This isnt a goddamn joke, Absalom. Absalom is visibly startled by Kurts tone. ABSALOM What did you do? KURT Its not what I did. Its what she did. He yanks the destroyed portrait from his pocket and shows Absalom. Absalom gently takes the portrait and examines the damage. An unprecedented expression of horror comes over his face. ABSALOM (indignantly) Has she no respect for fine art? The hard work that went into this? KURT Shes going to go to the police. Everything you worked so hard for will be obliterated. Unless unless you leave. But you have to leave now. ABSALOM

"+&! Kurt, do you not realize how long Ive evaded them? Regardless of what this girl has done, I already told you small footprints. I understand that this is new to you, but youll learn what I mean soon enough. KURT This is different. You dont know Autumn. ABSALOM (snaps back) Youre right, I dont. So why is she even an issue? KURT Because she knows. I havent told her anything, but shes smart. She figures things out on her own. She went into my room and ABSALOM She knows everything? KURT She knows enough. And shes going to know more unless you leave right now.

Absalom sits in silence for a moment. He is visibly perturbed by the turn of events. After brief contemplation, he stands and fetches a mediumsized bag, into which he lovingly places a few essentials. ABSALOM (with heavy sarcasm) What do you propose I do? Flee to the Oregon Coast? New Mexico? KURT It doesnt matter where. Just not here. ABSALOM Oh, but it does matter. Ive managed to cover my tracks over the entire Southeast United States, until this. Ive got half a mind to finish her instead of worrying about this ridiculous inconvenience KURT Youll have to leave the country. ABSALOM

"+'! Ha! To Mexico, maybe? Bimini? Canada, maybe theyll welcome me with open arms. Just let me borrow your computer for a moment, Ill book a flight on one of those travel websites. KURT You couldnt leave the country on a plane. ABSALOM You dont say. KURT The only feasible way to do it would be by boat. ABSALOM Oh, grand! Ill charter a pirogue and shimmy my way down the East Coast. Or snatch a fishing boat from one of those nice Gullah gentlemen. KURT Hop a freighter, then. You just need to get out of here.

Absalom turns his attention away from packing and directs it at Kurt. ABSALOM Well, whatever I do, Id suggest you do the same. Please dont tell me your time spent here has been so insignificant that youve forgotten your role in all of this. KURT What? ABSALOM Youre with me, Kurt. If I run, you run. KURT (whoa there) What do you mean, Im with you? ABSALOM Youre not abandoning me. In the distance, Autumns voice is heard. She shouts Kurts name. ABSALOM Well, we cant have that, can we?

"+(!

KURT (his voice trembles) We have to leave, now. ABSALOM I can handle this. Absalom rummages around on a nearby shelf and seizes a glass bottle and a cloth. EXT. CHAPEL - NIGHT Twigs crack and snap beneath Autumns feet as she traverses through the woods, weaving in and out of trees. Ash, his medallion in hand, follows behind, struggling to maintain his footing in the dense undergrowth. They approach the Rounsaville Manor. ASH Is that where he is? Autumn looks up at the house, which is backlit by the moonlight. ASH (with authority) Were not going in there. AUTUMN Youre right. Were not. ASH Then what are we Autumn looks toward the graveyard and, without hesitation, runs. ASH (CONT.) Autumn! AUTUMN! Are you kidding me? Ash stands still, torn between pursuing his sister and heading back to the car. Eventually he makes the sign of the cross and follows. EXT. CHAPEL - NIGHT

"+)!

Autumn tromps across the burial grounds without pause. She surveys the area and starts off in the direction of the charnel house. Suddenly, Absalom hooks his arm across Autumn from behind. He pins her arms to her sides and presses the cloth against her face. Autumn thrashes violently. Absalom maintains a firm hold on her until she becomes subdued by the chloroform. Kurt stands in the doorway and looks on. Absalom lets Autumn fall to the ground; she is still conscious, though dazed. After another brief struggle, she regains her footing and bolts. Absalom turns toward Kurt. ABSALOM Get the shovel. Ash blusters into the clearing, panting. He watches his sister stagger for the woods. After a quick glance in Absaloms direction, he bolts after Autumn. ASH AU From behind, Kurt gains on Ash and swings the shovel against the backs of Ashs legs. Ash falls to the ground and cries out in pain. He rolls onto his back, still in disbelief, as Absalom shouts to Kurt. ABSALOM (gestures toward where Autumn ran) Go! ASH If you touch her Kurt kicks Ash in the chest and races off after Autumn. Absalom stands over Ash and stares down at him with A Gleam in his eye. ABSALOM Well at least shes brought me a parting gift.

"+*!

EXT. ROUNSAVILLE PLANTATION WOODS- NIGHT Autumn, out of breath, pants and stumbles through the woods, using the surrounding trees as leverage. Kurt can be heard racing through the woods as he pursues Autumn. Ahead of her lies a vast swamp, the depth of which is unknown. She frantically looks around for another route, only to spot Kurt as he approaches from the darkness. She staggers backwards and trips over a root, but doesnt allow herself to go all the way down. AUTUMN Wheres my brother? Kurt steps forward. AUTUMN (CONT.) What do you expect to gain from hurting me? Or anyone else, for that matter? KURT (approaching slowly; laughs incredulously) You keep asking me why. You actually want an explanation from me? Double-spaced, in 12-point font, MLA format? AUTUMN (prattling, terrified) As far as Im aware, you havent done anything too condemning yet. Dont do this, Kurt. That guy, hes poisoned your mind, whoever he is. I know youre having a hard time, I know that state of mind leaves people impressionable Kurt charges toward Autumn, prepared to swing the shovel directly for her head. Autumn wrenches the shovel from his grasp and they wrestle to the ground. She knees him in the crotch as he winces in pain and falls back.

! Autumn attempts to rise to her feet, but Kurt grabs her ankle and pulls her down. Her head slams violently against the ground. Kurt crawls over to her his forearm against her struggle, Autumn passes chloroform and overcome

""+!

and straddles her torso. He shoves throat. After a considerable out, already weakened by the by a lack of oxygen.

Kurt takes Autumns arm and hauls her toward the swamp. He releases his grip and leaves her in the shallow end of the water, close to the bank. Her face is still above the surface. Kurt gingerly feels for a pulse, then stoically steps back, turns, retrieves the shovel, and walks away. INT. CHAPEL- NIGHT Kurt, shovel in hand, enters the chapel. He is greeted by the icy, emotionless stare of a corpse. Propped against the back wall is Ash, a gory wound across the top of his head. On the floor, glittery fragments of a smashed crystal decanter litter the floor like chunks of ice. Absalom walks in from the other room, drying his hands in a washcloth. ABSALOM Im afraid things got a bit out of hand. KURT (numbly) Hes Absalom smiles wryly. ABSALOM Hes really, uh. Half stunned, half amused, Kurt chuckles. ABSALOM (CONT.) And Autumn? KURT Dealt with.

"""!

ABSALOM Where is she? KURT The swamp. Absalom smiles again. KURT So what now? Where do we go? ABSALOM This is where I realized Ill need your help. Dealing with him was so easy I had time left over to mull. Kurt notices the massive gash across Absaloms arm, still bleeding under his torn sleeve. He discretely tucks it behind his back. ABSALOM (CONT.) That friend of yours, how exactly did he manage to catch a ride aboard a cargo ship? KURT Well, I wasnt there with him. But his plan of action involved paying off some of the ships crew members, so theyd let him on without being caught. (beat) But I already told you I havent heard from him since. So I couldnt tell you how that worked out. ABSALOM Given how deeply your lady friend dabbled in our affairs, I dont think we have any alternatives. KURT She wasnt my lady friend. ABSALOM Oh, I know. (beat) So Im assuming the gentleman left for Europe via the Port of Charleston? KURT

""#! I dont know. Considering that he didnt have a dire need to leave the country, he couldve left through New York, or Baltimore, or Norfolk, for all I know. ABSALOM We havent the time to gallivant off to New York or Norfolk. KURT What about your car? Dont you think itll be strange if ABSALOM You still havent learned, have you? (beat) Do you honestly think that old pile of metal belongs to me?

It finally begins to dawn on Kurt: escape will be practically effortless. ABSALOM (CONT.) (spelling out C-A-T for an infant) Small - footprints remember? Absalom strides over to the record player and places a vinyl from his collection on it. ABSALOM (CONT.) Before we leave, Ill need your help cleaning up. INT. MISTER Penny steps Her glossy, at the nape KINGS NIGHT out onto the stage in an alluring green gown. elegant finger-waves are pulled back and pinned of her neck.

PENNY Id like to dedicate this piece to two dear friends of mine, Autumn and Kurt, who unfortunately couldnt seem to make it and see me this evening. I know its fall, but this has always been a favorite of theirs (beat) Funny, too, that a girl named Autumn would love a song called Summertime, but my, we do live in a wacky world. The piano begins to tinkle a sultry melody as the lights soften and dim. PENNY (CONT.) (singing)

! Summertime, and the livin is easy... INT. CHAPEL - NIGHT Pennys voice carries over, singing the iconic tune, as Kurt and Absalom pile the last of Absaloms belongings in the chapel. Before stepping out, Absalom drapes a dense black sheet over Ashs upright body. EXT. CHAPEL - NIGHT With considerable gravity, Absalom shuts the door to the now-darkened chapel. The two take in a final view of the place. KURT Its too bad about all your things. ABSALOM Im used to that. KURT Your camera

""$!

ABSALOM Ive had quite a few over the years. Wherever we end up, Ill find new ones. He crosses over to the passenger door of his car, which he has pulled around to the front of the chapel. He opens the door for Kurt. ABSALOM (CONT.) Shall we? Im not too enamored with the sight of this place any longer. Kurt climbs in. Absalom slides into the front seat and starts the car, which groans in protest before idling. KURT (faintly) I was supposed to pick up my mother over an hour ago. Absalom sympathetically lays a hand on Kurts shoulder. He quickly removes it, recalling Kurts previous reaction to physical contact.

""%! ABSALOM I wouldve loved to have made her acquaintance. Taken her portrait, perhaps. I dont doubt she has a face worth capturing.

Kurt stares out the window. Absalom puts the car into drive and puts both hands on the wheel. ABSALOM (CONT.) (pensively) If only Id had time to fix up that boy. He wouldve been a brilliant addition to my repertoire. KURT Therell be others. ABSALOM Oh, Im sure. KURT That was her brother, you know. ABSALOM I noted the resemblance. Meddling is a family affair, is it? (beat) I dont suppose itll be long before the friars start to miss him. Absalom puts two fingers in his coat pocket and pulls out a small, modest St. Christopher medal, which dangles from a thin metal chain. ABSALOM (CONT.) May he bless our journey. Absalom drives away from the chapel. EXT. ROUNSAVILLE PLANTATION WOODS- DAY Autumn lies unconscious in the swamp; her upper half rests on the muddy ground. A purring cat traipses over and rubs its head against Autumns. Her eyes open slowly, initially blinded by the rising sun.

! She rolls over onto her chest and pulls herself into a crawling position. Using a tree-branch, Autumn hoists herself up to her feet and slowly meanders her way through the woods. Along the way, she grazes, but does not see, a headstone.

""&!

We see that the headstone is that of the slave Celeste. Her name is carved sloppily into the weathered hunk of rock. An inexplicable stump of a burned candle sits against the stone. THE END