Abyssal Street

INT. QUIET TRAIN CARIAGE. EVENING

The slow clatter of the train on the tracks as Dr Patel
takes a seat. It’s quiet except for the occasional distant
bubble of laughter or chatter. Slight shuffling can be heard
as Dr Patel gets comfortable.
DR PATEL
(Exhasperated sigh)

There is a moments pause in which the stillness continues.

ALISTAIR
(Begins to whistle or hum Danse
Macabre, starting at bar 25)

The whistled music echoes eerily around the train.

ALISTAIR
(Continues whitling through to bar
41 and then starts again)

DR PATEL
(Inhales deeply and pauses)Stop...
just stop.
Alistair pauses mid phrase.

DR PATEL
Can you not.
ALISTAIR
Can I not what?

DR PATEL
Do that... whistlng.
ALISTAIR
Do you not like that piece?
DR PATEL
I like classical music as much as
the next man but to be honest I
find it a little unnerving.

ALISTAIR
How so?
DR PATEL
I don’t know, just a
creepy stranger whistling a piece
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 2.

DR PATEL (cont’d)
of music that translates literally
to ’The dance of death’ to an empty
train carriage
is slightly unsettling.

ALISTAIR
(Smirking) What can I say, I’m a
creepy stranger, it’s what we do.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The stranger wore a smirk that
reminded me of when I was a little
child and my father drove me out of
the city and away from the lights
to look at the moon and it was so
thin it looked like a little silver
crack in the night sky. It was a
little cut in the darkness through
which poured the unexplainable; and
although it was only the quirk of a
silver-pierced lip it brought with
it the chill of the unknown. The
strangers silver eyes moved to
gloss over the pages of his
notebook (The sound of pages being
turned)as he slouched sidewards
across his seat, a man I would
place in his mid twenties,
his face a collage of the finest
features found only on helanic
statues. Brushing a bang of black
hair from his forehead he went to
turn another page.

I had felt this way about things

before, this aura of niggling
discomfort when faced with
something, but never with someone,
not a living body at least. It was
the atmosphere of the
ancient crypts I had walked too
often to mention for my work at the
university, the slow unwinding of
the bandages concealing a mummy.
Like the expedition east when my
collegues and I had uncovered in
the desert the thousend year old
parched corpses of a thousend
slaves piled into a heap and
watched the tides of sand consume
them once more I was filled with an
that same unshakable feeling. But
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 3.

DR PATEL (NARRATION) (cont’d)

why? He was just a stranger on a
commuter train after all.
As the train pulls into the station the horn bellows and the
door opens. Shuffeling is heard as the stranger stands to
exit and a thump as his notebook falls to the floor.
DR PATEL
Hey. Wait! Creepy stranger! You
dropped your book.

Paper flaps as Dr Patel picks up the notebook.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
It was too late. He was gone.

The train horn blairs again as scene one ends and fades out
into the next scene.
INT. AUDITORIUM. MORNING
Students chatter and bicker from their seats in the echoy
auditorium, laughing. It is the beginning of the semester
and the atmosphere is buzzing. It quietens significantly as
Dr Patel enters and his footsteps on the wooden floor loud
in the now quiet room. Chalk scratches on the board as he
writes his name and the name of the course.

DR PATEL
Welcome new students to the
University. My name is Dr Patel and
this combined Archeology and
Anthropology 101. Before we start,
yes I am indian, and yes I am an
archeologist but no, you can not
call me ’Indian Johnes’.
The students chuckle.

DR PATEL
And yes I do that joke every year,
my collegue Dr Hill and I have an
agreement that I’m only allowed to
use it once a year, but anyhow... I
only have you briefly today before
inductions and I’m going to use
this time to outline the course
that you’re all getting yourself
into so much debt for.
The students laugh sardonically.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 4.

DR PATEL
Most of you come from a background
of history study focused more what
we here at the university and
museum would consider recent
western history, meaning post
1000AD Europe and America, of
course with the exception of our
foreign students. Our historical
focus here will be the life and
cultures of the people who came
before this, from all over the
world, from the Tang Dynesty of
China right back to
the Palaeolithic period. Unlike a
history course our focus will not
be on the significant events of
these time periods but on the day
to day lives of the people and the
cultures and societies they formed
as well as the things they left
behind for us to find and dust off
with our little archeologists
brushes. During your time studying
here you will see countless relics
and artifacts from the
museum archives and vaults which
countain clues to tens of thousends
of years of humanity’s past and
learn to interpret these clues with
the hopes that when your education
here is done you can head out and
brush away the sands of time for
yourselves. For now you’re
dismissed to attend the induction
fair. I hope to see you all
tomorrow for our first lecture.
The students exit the classroom as Dr Hill enters, her
wheelchair rolling across the floor. Dr Patel gathers his
paperwork up and straightens it.
DR PATEL
Good morning Dr Hill, did you get
my message?

DR HILL
That rather cryptic note left on my
desk? Yes, I did.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
My esteemed colegue Dr Hill was a
woman for whom I had the upmost
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 5.

DR PATEL (NARRATION) (cont’d)

adiration and respect. She was
known around the university for two
things, the first being her frankly
baffling intelligence which saw her
gain a PhD at just 24 and the
second being her sense of humour
and the fact she was generally
quite refreshing to be around. Her
wheelchair was usually decorated
with flowers but around the
hollidays she covered it in fairy
lights like a Christmas tree. One
april fools she even tied rubber
chickens to the wheels so that they
let out a hidious scream with every
wheel rotation.

DR HILL
So to what do I owe the cryptic
summons to your office?
DR PATEL
I need your help, a favour if you
will.
DR HILL
Is this related to your work at the
university or something personal?
DR PATEL
It’s... Both. A personal project if
you will.

DR HILL
And what is it that I can do to
help.
Theres a light thud and the flicker of pages as Dr Patel
pulls out the lost notebook and turns to the first page.

DR PATEL
You know this city better than
anyone else, and I know that it’s a
silly doodle but is there any
chance that this house is a real
place?
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
I turned to the sketch of the
strange old house and Vanessa
glanced over it.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 6.

DR HILL
Can I ask what exactly this is
about?

DR PATEL
Nothing, I just found this notebook
on the train and wish to return it
to it’s right full owner.

DR HILL
Bull-doodie, I know you better than
that, if you just wanted to return
it you would have handed it into
the train conductor.

DR PATEL
Fine, look at this.
The pages turn again as Dr Patel reveals a strange symbol.
DR PATEL
(Excited) We know this symbol,
we’ve seen it before Vanessa, on
that mystery artifact sitting in
the vaults.
DR HILL
Yes, the one from the middle east.
DR PATEL
But that artifact has never been on
display to the public, how could he
possibly know about this symbol.
DR HILL
Krish I think you’re putting too
much thought into this. It’s a
doodle in a notebook. You know as
well as I do things show up in all
kinds of strange places, places
that dont make sense. We have
crosses in pre-Christian
civilizations, identical deities in
cultures with no contact, these
thing happen all the time.
DR PATEL
But they don’t happen here, they
don’t happen now. This notebook
is... it’s... strange, I mean look
at these illustrations, the text...
there’s passages in furthark runes
but phonetic proto--yiddish.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 7.

DR HILL
I agree, it’s strange, but not
worth an obsession.
DR PATEL
I am not obsessed.
DR HILL
Maybe not yet but you are a very
obsessive person. When most people
get a proposal for an expedition
denied they go back to work, work
on new proposals, research, they do
not go rogue and try to fund it
themselves. I love your
enthusiasm, thats part of what
makes you so good at your work, but
this... this is an anomoly. Your
obsession with that artifact is
only holding you back now. I
understand why you’re like this.
You want to know everything so
all the horrible and
wonderfull stuff you already know,
all the things you can’t unlearn
make sense and you can find some
kind of peace with them. I get it,
we’re burdened with a lot of the
worlds trauma and we don’t get much
sympathy but obsessing is a lot
harder than making peace with not
knowing.
Awkward pause

DR PATEL
But to be clear... you do know
where this house is?
DR HILL
(Sigh) Yes, but did you not listen
to a word I just said.
DR PATEL
Please Vanessa, I just want to
return it. The sooner it’s rturned
the sooner I can forget about it.
DR HILL
(Exhasperated) Fine... If I’m not
mistaken that’s Abyssal Street,
Number Seventy three. It’s at the
edge of the derelict west district,
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 8.

DR HILL (cont’d)
only house in the row to survive
the bombings. They rebuilt the rest
so they’re a lot more modern, you
can’t miss it, it’s the only one of
its kind but it’s kind of a
landmark now so it could be that
someone just doodled it. It’s got a
gas lantern outside. Just please
don’t get caught up in any kind of
crazy.

DR PATEL
I won’t.
EXT. ABYSSAL STREET. MORNING

Birds sing and there is the occasional sound of a passing

car as well as Dr Patel’s italian leather shoes clacking on
the pavement.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Abyssal Street was in a charming
metropolitan neighborhood at the
edge of the city, or the edge of
what remained inhabitable of the
city after the war. It was lined
with grey, square buildings with
very little charecter of there
own which looked like they had been
built as swiftly and cheaply as
possible after the bombings, and
were designed to be stable and
affordable if compleatly without
personality. Number 73, however,
was something complealy different.
This whimsically gothic thing was a
good two or three floors taller
than its rebuilt counterparts and
clearly a good three hundred years
older with exposed brick
foundation, timber framed walls and
a sloped slate roof with dormer
windows. The upper floors were
jettied and the front door sat at
the top of a flight of stairs with
wrought iron railings, every few
bars topped with a
lantern, that lead off the street.
It definitly bore a striking
resemblence to the sketch in the
notebook which I still held so much
speculation about.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 9.

I was a sceptic by nature and there

were some things in the notebook
which were easily belivable, for
example the fact that it contained
a detailed profile for each of the
owners frankly disturbing number of
cats which was more than enough
proof for me that he was certainly
not the most sane of men. His lack
of sanity bought everything else in
the notebook into that foggy grey
area in which all things lie before
we decide if they are truth,
fiction or madness and for the time
being I had chosen, against my
better judgement, not to make the
distinction between those things.
For now it was just a mystery, a
strange hand written notebook
filled with monsters and things
that danced on the edge of my
comprehension.
The texture changes beneath Dr Patel’s feet as he climbs the
steps to the front door of 73 abyssal street and rings the
door bell, an old fashioned thing that rings a real bell
inside. A managerie of noises come from within, the meowing
of cats, the clatter of something and muffled cursing as
someone runs down the corridor.
ALISTAIR
(From inside) Just a minute.

A variety of locks and latches are undone as Alistair undoes

them to open the door, leaving the chain across.
ALISTAIR
Oh, it’s you... I’m not fit to
entertain right now, haven’t
hoovered, or...
Theres a meowing and patter of small feet as one of the cats
inside slips out and down the steps.

ALISTAIR
Damn it Mr Garlic! You get back
here this instant you are on house
arrest! One moment, grab him for me
and I’ll let you in.

Alistair shuts the door and undoes the last chain before he
reopens it. The cat meows as Dr Patel scoops it up before it
begins to purr.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 10.

DR PATEL
Hello... cat.
ALISTAIR
His name is Mr Garlic. He’s not
allowed out because he goes through
the bins, that’s why he’s so damn
fat.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The cat in question was a large,
fat, black thing with a flat,
squashed face and buldging orange
eyes. But what made me chuckle
about this creature was the white
moustache-like markings beneath his
nose.

ALISTAIR
Bring him inside if you’d like.
They step inside and the door closes behind them.

INT. ABYSSAL STREET GROUND FLOOR. MORNING

Alistair sets about clearing up bits and bobs of clutter and
rubbish. Cats meow from all directions.
ALISTAIR
Excuse the clutter... and the hair.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
As soon as I was through the door I
was set upon my an armarda of cats
rubbing against my legs.

DR PATEL
Heavens, how does someone even get
so many cats?

ALISTAIR
It’s simple, I see a cat I like, I
get it... not in a kidnapping them
way, but from pet shops or feral
kittens or ads in the paper. The
animal shelter said I couldn’t have
any more when I reached five but I
dont see the issue, I keep them fed
and warm and clean the litter
trays.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 11.

DR PATEL
Really? I thought perhaps you’d
just forgotten to have someone
fixed and ended up with a houseful.

ALISTAIR
No, no.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The interior of seventy three
Abyssal Street was a jumbled afair,
much like the outside of the
building. It had an antique
shop-esque feel as if someone had
emptied the better items from
several ecclectic junkshops into
his hallway and livingroom, piled
on top of coffee stained tables and
scratched antique sideboards. He
cleared away scraps of paper.
Alistair clears away some papers.

ALISTAIR
Anyway, I’m assuming you have a
reason for stopping by out of the
blue, seeing as you don’t know my
name. I’m not even sure how you got
my adress... Who’s the creepy
stranger now hmm?
Dr Patel pulls the notebook from his messenger bag and slams
it on the table.

ALISTAIR
Oh, I’ve been wondering where that
had vanished off to, thought that
Nari had ’Borrowed’ it for the
weekend again. Guessing I dropped
it on the train?

DR PATEL
That’s right. Have a friend who can
tell almost any building in the
city by a doodle apparently.

ALISTAIR
Well thank you for returning it,
and I’m very sorry that you had to
come and find me in my skivies. On
the subject of which I should
probably put a dressing gown on.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 12.

DR PATEL
I hadn’t really noticed.

ALISTAIR
Well... since you’ve seen me
running around in my boxer shorts
chasing an obese cat you might as
well know my name... Alistair
Rudolf Pickt. My friends call me
Roo.
DR PATEL
I’m Dr Krish Patel.
ALISTAIR
A Doctor?
DR PATEL
Not an MD, a PhD... I’m an
anthropologist, and archeologist.

ALISTAIR
An anthropologist huh? Say... whats
your views on the Jeudeo-Greek
religious parallels?
DR PATEL
So you have an intrest in
anthropology and things?
ALISTAIR
You could say I have a curious
mind, an intrest in most things.
DR PATEL
I can respect a man with a curious
mind.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Alistair grinned a sharkish grin
and looked at the small group of
cats nestled around his ankles.
DR PATEL
And what does a man like you do for
a career, you have the mannerisms
of a selfmade man about you.
ALISTAIR
And what’s that supposed to mean? I
suppose you mean I don’t seem to
live within the means that my
mannerisms would suggest?

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 13.

DR PATEL
Well... yes actully. I meant no
offence by it, I respect a selfmade
man, being one myself.

ALISTAIR
(Snort) Come on, you talk like you
were born with a diamond wedged up
your asshole, and it takes a lot
more than a backhanded compliment
to offend me. I am a selfmade man,
lucky enough to be born with a gift
for rhetoric... and sports. Sports
got me into college, rhetoric saw
me through and to here. I’m a
writer, write books for angsty
teenagers about vampires and
things. I swear a lot less in
writing... well... I don’t but my
editor is adament about taking all
the curse words out. What a boring
old cunt. And I’m not rich either.
You may think a historic house with
a grade 1 listing might cost a lot
but they could only charge so much
for a house with a cracked
foundation, no heating and wiring
that is, in a word, fucked.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Goodness, he did swear a lot.
ALISTAIR
I’m very thankful for the recovery
of my notebook though, thank you,
and I am rich enough to offer you a
small reward.
DR PATEL
That won’t be nessecery. I didn’t
do this for any form of reward.
ALISTAIR
How about a coffee then, that seems
fair compensation.

DR PATEL
Coffee? Oh... okay. If it’s no
trouble.
 14.

INT. ABYSSAL STREET FIRST FLOOR. MORNING

Alistair prepares coffee and the two men sit down on an
couch. There is an awkward silence of a few moments in which
the two of them just sit.

ALISTAIR
Did you read it then?
DR PATEL
Excuse me?

ALISTAIR
My notebook, did you read it?
DR PATEL
I... um... I read some of it. Some
out of curiosity and some for clues
as to where I could find you.
ALISTAIR
And?

DR PATEL
I’m rather relived to discover that
you’re a writer, I assumed that you
were just a bit loopy.
ALISTAIR
Gee, thanks.
DR PATEL
Certain things did catch my eye
though.

Alistair takes a loud slurp of coffee.

ALISTAIR
Yeah, and what’s that?

DR PATEL
Where the hell did you learn
proto-aramaic.
Alistair laughs

ALISTAIR
(Sarcastic)Of course it was found
by probably the only person in the
country who can read proto-arameic.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 15.

DR PATEL
Actually there’s two. Me and my
collegue Dr Hill. Make that three
if you include yourself.

ALISTAIR
So you did read it.
DR PATEL
You didn’t answer my question.

ALISTAIR
I’m self-taught.
DR PATEL
There literaly does not exist a
resource for someone to teach
themself proto-arameic, ancient
aramaic at a push, but pre-arameic?
That isn’t possible, even me and my
collegue are still assembling
language fragments and
interpriting.

ALISTAIR
(Unamused) Anyone else would have
assumed it to be giberish you know,
that’s how it’s meant to read to
the untrained eye.

DR PATEL
I’m not the untrained eye.
ALISTAIR
I gathered by the grilling I’m
currently getting. Want me to get
some handcuffs and a desk lamp from
the basement so you can interigate
me propperly? I speak latin too,
want to wire my nipples to a car
battery spank me so I can tell you
about that too?
DR PATEL
Maybe you shouldn’t say stuff like
that in your underwear, comes
across a little bit perverted.
ALISTAIR
I was raised in a Catholic
orphanage.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 16.

DR PATEL
Charming.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
I didn’t want to know if that was
his explaination for the fact he
spoke Latin or the peverted torture
jokes and I didn’t realy want to.

ALISTAIR
I’ll forgive you for reading my
diary if you stop asking questions
about it. Do we have a deal? We
might even get to part as friends
at the end of this.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
This is why Dr Hill had warned me.
I was never content with just a
peak behind the curtains. I had to
know how the trick was done.

DR PATEL
Okay, deal. But allow me one last
remark.
ALISTAIR
Alrigh, have at it.
DR PATEL
You didn’t invent that symbol on
the cover.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
I smirked, having finally hung the
statement out to dry after having
it twirling around in my head for
so long but suddenly Alistair’s
entire body stiffened like a dead
fish and his eyes widened. An
uneasiness came over me at seeing
such an unpataterbed man in this
retched state.

ALISTAIR
Mr Patel...
DR PATEL
It’s Dr.

ALISTAIR
Fine, Dr Patel, I know this seems
strange but I need you to tell me
where you’ve seen this symbol.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 17.

DR PATEL
Hang on, that’s my line.
ALISTAIR
Weird as this seems I garentee I
have more hanging in the balence on
this than you.
DR PATEL
I have my whole career hanging on
this symbol, what do you have.

ALISTAIR
Only my life.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
This made me drop my guard.

DR PATEL
That symbol was found on an
artifact we discovered in the
middle east not too long ago
currently sitting in the vaults of
the museum archives and has never
been on display to the public. I
proposed an expedition to research
more about it but my request was
denied, since then I’ve been trying
to fund the research trip myself.

ALISTAIR
Fuck. FUCK! This is not good news.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
He stood up and rushed to the
window, tearing open the curtains
and looking out to make sure no one
was hiding, listening in.
ALISTAIR
This artifact. It’s a little box,
about fifteen centimeters tall,
looks sort of like a puzzle box
with little levers on the sides and
a top that looks like a steepled
roof?

DR PATEL
That’s right, how did you know?
ALISTAIR
Because that symbol on the front of
the notebook is there to remind me
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 18.

ALISTAIR (cont’d)
what it looks on the dark dark day
that someone finds one.
DR PATEL
You mean to say you know what this
artifact is?

ALISTAIR
It’s a fucking Archadarah.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The word was foreign to me but had
around it an atmosphere of terrible
dread as if it was some kind of
magical utterence, a curse that
killed the listener.

DR PATEL
Forgive my ignorance but what is
an...
ALISTAIR
Archadarah, the God box, the
chamber of the lyric. Simply put
its the most powerful thing in the
universe, can take life, give it,
tear the world apart at the seams
if used correctly, or incorrectly,
the issue is that you can’t use it
correctly, no one can. That the
whole point of an Archadarah, no
one knows how to use it. On it’s
own it is harmless, like anything
with that kind of power, but
combine it with the ignorace and
ego engrained in each and every one
of us and we’ll pull levers at
random until we destroy everything
because we want the power
regardless of the risks.

DR PATEL
So say if someone were to pull one
of the levers... what would happen.
ALISTAIR
Anything could happen. Grampa could
get a new hat, every rabbit on
earth could suddenly gain the
ability to speak fluent french...
or a giant swan could eat the known
universe like a great big cruton.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 19.

ALISTAIR (cont’d)
Needless to say ignorance and power
are not a good mix.
DR PATEL
And how exactly do you... you
know... know all this.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Alistairs face softened into a
smirk and he looked down at his
host of cats before his eyes
returned to me.
ALISTAIR
You wouldn’t belive me if I told
you.

DR PATEL
I don’t know about that, I believe
you so far. Granted you seem a bit
mentally unstable but don’t we all.
You’ve already told me about a
magic box with the power to create
giant poultry, why stop now?
ALISTAIR
Swans aren’t technically poultry
you know...

DR PATEL
You’re changin the subject.
ALISTAIR
You really want to know my crazy
backstory?
DR PATEL
I don’t have one of my own. I’m a
thirty seven year old and I still
live with my mummy and father.
ALISTAIR
Okay... I’m going to trust you
here, but if you get me sectioned
I’ll break out and you will have an
escaped mental patient after you.
DR PATEL
Deal.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 20.

ALISTAIR
My mum was schizophrenic.

DR PATEL
Ah, so it’s genetic.
ALISTAIR
No, that’s just the start of the
story. My mother was schizophrenic
and a very devout Catholic. One day
she turned up on the steps of the
cathedral and heavily pregnant
claiming that she was impregnated
by an angel. The priests all
assumed that maybe she had been
raped and had made up the angel
story as a coping mechanism. She
couldn’t afford to go to the
hospital and gave birth in the
church. She left me there saying
that the church was the best place
for someone like me, didn’t leave a
name or adress or anything, she
named me, and said I was a ’gift’
but she couldn’t care for me.

DR PATEL
So you were abandoned?
ALISTAIR
Pretty much. I wasn’t the only
one. It was twenty six years ago,
just before the war, people
couldn’t afford their children but
the church always survives so we
were packed into catholic
orphanages. Then when I was six the
voices started, these
strange whispers from the beyond.
Of course it was shrugged off as
madness, ’like mother like son’.
Then the war began and more orphans
were piled into the already full
home. Everyone was frustrated, at
eachothers throats, at my throat.
At night I used to slip out of the
windows and walk the abandoned
factories and train stations that
were left empty along with half the
city after the war. In the quiet
I’d listen to these whisperings,
like secrets reaching across the
void of space, and learn the most
wonderful and terrible things.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 21.

DR PATEL
You mean to say the things these
voices told you were true.

ALISTAIR
That, Dr Patel, is where I learned
the elder tongue.
DR PATEL
And were you not afraid.
ALISTAIR
Afraid of something that I have
experienced my entire life? No, it
had become my normal... more than
my normal, it was my peace. After a
while I did this every night, I was
drawn out into the ruines by this
unspoken whisper among the
whispers, to
a derelict dinner-theatre on the
abandoned west side. Once I arrived
I was greeted by a strange cosmic
creature. It took the form of a
three eyed cat with three tenticles
for its tail. It claimed it’s name
was Ghena and that it was my guide.

DR PATEL
Okay, this has become weird now.
ALISTAIR
It’s only going to get weirder.
Ghena, this cosmic being, told me
that my father was no angel. I
truth my mother was impregnanted by
an abyssal being, a cosmic creature
born from the void itself. It
offered me the chance to unlock
those powers on one condition...
that I use them to maintain and
defend your world from the dark
things that might harm or destroy
it. Sounds like stupid teenage
vampire romance novel right? How do
you think I got into that crap.
DR PATEL
So what did you say.

ALISTAIR
If you were a neglected orphan
child offered phonominal cosmic
power what would you say?

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 22.

DR PATEL
I suppose I’d say yes.
ALISTAIR
You’re looking at the half-human
moderator of this world and the
beast that guards its borders.
DR PATEL
(Sceptically) So you mean to tell
me that you’re some kind of...
eldritch guardian?
ALISTAIR
Eldritch guardian... should put
that on my CV.

DR PATEL
You’re a bundle of sarcasm aren’t
you?
ALISTAIR
Inherited it from my father
apparently. Beings of the Abyss are
suprisingly Sassy.
Dr Patel stands up.
DR PATEL
Well anyway, thank you for the
coffee but I need to go.
ALISTAIR
I understand. People are ever
willing to belive more than a
certain amount that goes against
what they’ve been taught is true,
even if you show them proof. Want
me to show you the door?

DR PATEL
I think that I can manage.
Dr Patel walks down the creaky stairs and out the front
door.

EXT. ABYSSAL STREET. MORNING

Birds sing and transport rattles past along the cobbled
road.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 23.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
I turned up the collar on my coat.
Leaving the house with more
questions than I entered with had
not been my intenton but I had
finally reached the point where I
was willing to heed Vanessa’s
advice and just let it go. If it
was false there was no point
wasting my precious time on an
eccentric and deluded young writer.
The truth seemed out of my grasp
still. Maybe Alistair was right
about refusing to believe things
that went against my education,
even with the proof he had offered
in the form of his strange
knowledge about the box. But there
was one thing I was taking away
from this experience. I was going
to treat that artifact with an air
of caution from now on.

INT. MUSEUM VAULT. EVENING.

The museum vault is quiet and has an atmosphere similar to a
library, still with only the occasional sound of metal draws
sliding open, keys turning in locks, pages turning and
footsteps echoing through the stacks. Dr Patel and Dr Hill
are cataloging artifacts for a change in exhibition.
DR HILL
Do you have the Kenyan fertility
statue in that box?

DR PATEL
I’m not sure, what does it look
like?
DR HILL
Well... um... it’s a fertility
statue so... um...
DR PATEL
Right... um... well is it male or
female.

DR HILL
Both... they appear to be... um...
copulating.
Dr Patel rummages about among packing to find the statue.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 24.

DR PATEL
Is this the happy couple?
DR HILL
That’s them.

Dr Hill begins to giggle at the statue, Dr Patel soon joins

in.
DR PATEL
(Laughing) We’re supposed to be
grown ups, we have PhDs for crying
out loud.
DR HILL
(Giggling) I know but it’s just so
graphic. It’s strange to think that
our ancestors liked a bit of the
old adult naptime just as much as
we do.
DR PATEL
Well, from a anthropoogical
standpoint you should be quite used
to it by now. And of all the
phrases you chose to use... "Adult
naptime"?
DR HILL
Well what phrase would you have
used.
DR PATEL
Disapointing the wife.

The two laugh again.

DR HILL
(laughing again) You don’t even
have a wife.

DR PATEL
I know, my mother keeps pressing me
to come out as gay, shes convinced
the reason I’m thirty seven and
unmarried is because I fancy men.

DR HILL
Nothing wrong with being married to
your work.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 25.

DR PATEL
Unless I have a ceremony I don’t
think my mother is going to budge.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The museum vaults were perhaps my
favourite place in the world,
especially when I was in there
alone or just the company of
Vanessa. It was a reflective place,
an archive of thousands of years of
history, both natural and human,
and I had the master key.
DR HILL
I think I left the hungry ghost
back in the preservation room, the
little one from Tibet. I best go
and get him.
DR PATEL
I’ll get him for you, don’t worry
yourself.

DR HILL
Thank you Krish, hurry back. This
place gives me the heebi-geebies
when I’m here alone.

Krish walks to the preservation room where he picks up the

hungry ghost statue.
DR PATEL
Right, Mr Hungry Ghost, let’s get
you back to Vanessa.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The hungry ghost just stared at me
with it’s empty little eyes when
suddenly I heard a scream.

Dr Hill screams loudly from the vault and Dr Patel drops the
hungry ghost statue which shatters on the floor. He takes
off running.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Vanessa was not a woman easily
spooked. Had it been anyone else I
would have suspected a spider had
simply found it’s way into the box
but had that been the case with
Vanessa she would have likely taken
it to the resident entomoligist Dr
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 26.

DR PATEL (NARRATION) (cont’d)

Chapman for classifacation. The
problem now was that there was
nothing in there that would
frighten her, or that there should
not have been at least. And yet,
when I rounded the corner I found
Vanessa on the floor having been
thrown out of her wheelchair and
standing over her was a monster.
DR HILL
Krish, run!
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The creature turned to me and with
a toothy grin it made a
blood-curdeling noise.
The creature makes a sound before muttering something in
what sounds like giberish.

VAULT MONSTER
(Hissing) Ashes... where is the
box.
DR HILL
Krish, just run, I’ll be fine.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
I glanced around for something to
fight with dispite being a complete
novice with any form of weapon and
my eyes settled on a javelin. I had
read nearly eveything there was to
read on roman warfair both modern
and ancient and now was the time to
see if this translated into
practice. I lunged for the spear an
drove it through the creature’s
shoulder.
VAULT MONSTER
(Screams in agony)

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
It was no small task to force the
spearhead into the creature. It was
caked with two thousend years of
rust and all I could think at the
moment was how if the beast didn’t
die of the wound it likely would if
it wasn’t up to date on its tetnus
vaccines.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 27.

The monster tumbles to the floor, groaning in pain.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
I went in for another stab, this
time through the monsters head and
it let out one final scream before
turning into a puddle of burning
oil on the floor.

DR PATEL
(Panting)
DR HILL
(Panting)What. The. HELL was that?

DR PATEL
(Still panting) I don’t know... but
I think I know someone who might.
DR HILL
(Through gritted teeth) So help me
if this is something to do with
that God damn notebook and that God
damn artifact I will skin you.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
I noticed that Vanessa was still on
the floor.
DR PATEL
Vanessa, my dear, are you okay,
you’re bleeding.

DR HILL
I’m fine (Hisses in pain). I can
manage.
DR PATEL
There is a cut on your legs.
DR HILL
I can’t feel my legs, they don’t
really concern me. I’m more worried
about my arm. It might be broken.

DR PATEL
Let me help you.
Dr Patel picks up Dr Hill’s wheelchair.

DR PATEL
You’re lucky you don’t weigh much,
put your arm around my shoulder,
the uninjured one.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 28.

Dr Patel hoists her into her wheelchair.

DR PATEL
There must be a first aider
somewhere nearby.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Before I wheeled Vanessa away I
took the hankercheif from my pocket
and dabbed up just a small amount
of the black oily liquid from the
floor before returning it to my
pocket. Vanessa, shell shocked,
glanced back at me with both
curiosity and understanding. This
was not an unusually look for her
and matched her general attitude to
life but this time it was sharper
and more intense.
DR HILL
Go to him, the man who wrote the
notebook, and tell him what
happened here today... Schollars
have no chance with this stuff
Krish.

INT. ABYSSAL STREET FIRST FLOOR. MORNING

The cats meow from around the living room.
ALISTAIR
(From the kitchen) I must admit I
wasn’t expecting you. I’m dressed
today. Have you come to appologise,
or just to drink my coffee and eat
my custard creams?

DR PATEL
I came to talk, and yes...
appologise.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Alistair’s head appeared though the
archway of the kitchen.
ALISTAIR
Oh... really?
DR PATEL
Yes... (Sigh) I’m sorry. I’m sorry
for leaving abruptly after you
opened up to me but I need your
help... in identifying something.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 29.

Alistair sits down on the couch.

ALISTAIR
Yeah?
Dr Patel puts the hankercheif down on the table.
ALISTAIR
My superiour identification skills
tell me that this is a hankie, a
soiled orange hankie to be exact.
DR PATEL
No, I need help with whats inside
the hankerchief.

ALISTAIR
So help me if there is something
gross in there I will end you.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Alistair unfolded the hankerchief
and stared at the black smudge on
the cloth.
ALISTAIR
Hmmmmm... What’s this?

DR PATEL
That’s what I came to ask. This...
thing showed up in the vaults. I
managed to kill it and it turned
into... that goo.
ALISTAIR
Odd question... was it on fire?
DR PATEL
The monster or the goo?
ALISTAIR
The goo.
DR PATEL
Yes, it was. The monster damn near
killed my collegue. It was
humanoid, maybe six foot tall with
pale, yellow-tinged skin and a
hunched back.

DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Alistair dabbed his finger in the
oily black gunge and brought it
upto his nose before cringing.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 30.

ALISTAIR
Well it smells gross. Got kind of a
demonic funk to it. I’m going to
have to call Nari and consult her
database on this.

INT. ABYSSAL STREET FIRST FLOOR. HIGH NOON

Birds sing outside the window as cats sit on the windowsill
eyeing them where they sit in the trees, batting the glass
every now and then.

ALISTAIR
Hey! Snufkin! Tamlin! Figero! Leave
the little birdies alone. I’ve
already had to rescue three this
week from Spirit and his stray
collecting habit.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
The three small cats, one a tortie,
one a black and one a grey and
white donsky sphynx, scowled back
at him over their shoulders. Alice
in Wonderland questioned whether a
cat can grin, but they sure can
scowl.
Alistair had faxed his friends
Simone and Nari to come over and
assist us and had recived
confimation of their intention to
do so. Apparently as fond as Simone
is of automobiles she doesn’t
actually own one; she and her
partner bonded over their love of
vintage bicycles which was their
main source of transport.
The door opens from downstairs and two people run up the
stairs. Simone and Nari enter the room.
SIMONE
I belive we were summoned.
ALISTAIR
Yes. Got some funky goo for you to
examine, mainly for Nari to
examine. You can just hang about
and help.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 31.

SIMONE
Who’s that preppy guy?
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Simone was a tall, athletic girl of
around twenty six, probably just
shy of six foot with black hair
that gathered into thick, tightly
curled locks, brown eyes and ebony
skin. She wore a black derby hat, a
cream mens shirt, red braces and
brown trousers. Her partner, Nari,
was a young Korean girl of twenty a
whole foot smaller than her
girlfriend. She had long chocolate
brown hair with a square fringe,
round specticals over her large
brown eyes and freckles over her
cheeks. She was preppily dressed in
a white cotton blouse and a tan
knee length pleated skirt with
black tights, her style rebelious
only in the small silver ring
through her eyebrow.
ALISTAIR
That’s just Patel, he’s this guy I
know. He’s having a monster issue
at the moment so I’m giving him a
hand.
DR PATEL
You’ll... you’ll help me then?

ALISTAIR
Yeah, you appologised for being a
dick before. Besides... theres more
than you at stake.
NARI
What are the stakes?
ALISTAIR
Oh... just the world. So anyway,
Patel meet Simone. Simone meet
Patel. Patel, Nari. Nari, Patel.

DR PATEL
Nice to meet you girls.
DR PATEL (NARRATION)
Nari appeared to be sizing me up.

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 32.

ALISTAIR
Simone is a college friend of mine.
Took a double major too. Physics
and engineering. She used to steal
my chewing gum.

SIMONE
You know how it works. You bring
gum to practice you gotta share.
ALISTAIR
Nobody else used to steal it.
SIMONE
(Blows rasberry) Quit whining like
a little bitch.

ALISTAIR
Never. You fix things, Nari
researches shit and I whine like a
little bitch. And Patel? He has
access to all the university and
museum resources.

NARI
(Excited)Oh my God. Can you take me
there... The museum vaults I mean.
And the university archives! Is it
true you still have dissertation
papers written in the fourteenth
century? And that evey bit of paper
found in the university, even just
doodles of dicks, is stored there?