Spoon

A solitary woman stands at the peak of a mountain, misty gray mountains can be seen afar off on the horizon. 

Persephone:

You were so kind at first. 

Ægir::

You needed kindness.

Persephone:

Couldn't you have left it at that? Why...why the other thing?

Ægir:

You showed potential. 

Persephone:

Potential for what? Murder? I reject your observation.

Ægir:

What you call murder may also be called the will of the Norns.

Persephone:

You know I don't believe that. 

Ægir:

You believe in me.

Persephone:

Yes, but...

Ægir:

So you believe in them. 

Persephone grows agitated, restless, and impatient. She picks up a nearby stone and heaves it away, watching it sail into the sky. She begins to pace, having nowhere to go but down.

Persephone:

You know I could end this. Right?

Ægir:

You won't.

Persephone:

How do you know that? You couldn't possibly know that. I could do it this very minute. 

Ægir:

I know you won't because I know you can't. 

Persephone:

Oh yeah? You don't think I'll drop this rotted spoon?

Persephone walks to the precipice of the peak, withdrawing an ancient looking wooden spoon from within her jacket. The spoon looks carved from black wood, with Old Norse runes are inscribed on the handle.

Persephone:

Nothing to say? Admit your afraid.

Ægir:

I am not afraid because you are not afraid, though you are acting ungrateful. You hold a treasure

more valuable than all the gold in the earth. You hold the power of the ocean. 

Persephone:

All I hold is the last remnants of a forgotten god. A cruel god who deserved to be forgotten.

Ægir:

So then why don't you drop it?

Persephone grows quiet, her hand trembles as she holds the spoon precariously over the edge. 

Ægir:

Is it because you've felt the thrill? The exhilaration of sending mortals to dwell with me in the

ocean depths? You've lusted after what was once theirs and which now belongs to you. You

can't drop it because it IS you. 

Persephone slowly retracts her arm, reverently placing the spoon back into her jacket. She 

reluctantly walks back to the center of the peak and collapses on her knees, sobbing, 

remembering the three yachts and one fishing boat she sank in the previous three months.  

Persephone:

You're right. I can't. 

What do you want from?

Ægir:

Become my herald.

Persephone: 

Does that mean more killing?

Ægir:

Only if you wish it to be so.

Persephone rises from her knees and walks to the edge of the peak, staring at the far off

mountains. 

 Persephone:

Do you know why I carried you here?

Ægir:

You thought my power would lessen being far from the ocean.

Persephone:

Yes

Ægir:

You see that it does not.

Persephone:

Yes

Ægir:

So you will become my herald?

Persephone:

No, but you were right about one thing. I am not afraid…anymore.

Persephone places one foot in front of her, taking a step into the naked air. 

Momentum and gravity take their course as the ground races up to embrace her. 

Acquaintances

ESTABLISHING SHOT of Pine forest covered in freshly fallen snow. Silence permeates the air, muting any sounds of life. A gray haze crests over the sea of trees, a prelude of more snow to come.

CUT TO OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of Figure #1 standing, overlooking a frozen river. River stones are covered in several inches of snow, giving the impression of a procession of giant white mushrooms. Figure #1 can be seen breathing heavily. Plumes of smoke escape his lips, keeping time with the beat of his heavy breaths.  The man is wearing an assortment of thick animal skins, suitable for keeping out the cold winter air.

ZOOM TO CLOSE UP of Figure #2 Emerging from the tree line ahead. Figure #2 saunters from cover, aiming a standard rolling block Remington at Figure #1. The man is younger and clean shaven, except for a neatly waxed handle bar mustache. This contrasts his quarry’s thick, ice frosted full beard. His dress is typical of a Texas State Marshal, replete with leather coat, hat, and pants topped off by a thick woolen duster. A marshal’s badge gleams on his chest, despite the winter gloom.

CUT TO MEDIUM SHOT of Figure #1

               Figure # 1

Breathing heavily, clutching a dark red stain on his lower abdomen. Blood soaking the fur around it

What…what do you want?

CUT TO EXTREME CLOSE UP of Figure #2

Figure # 2

I aim to finish what I started.

Bring you to justice for your many earthly sins.

PAN TO WIDE ANGLE SHOT of both figures, 10 meters between them.

          

                Beleaguered, raspy breathing

Figure #1

Why Marshall, I was not aware that you had found the good

 Lord during your mortal sojourn.

CUT TO CLOSE UP of FIGURE #2 cocking rifle, taking several strides in the direction of Figure #1

Figure #2

Don’t need to be righteous to know when a fallen

creature needs to be sent back to hell.

EXTREME CLOSE UP of Figure #1. Blue of eyes of a monster, beckoning the Marshall.

PAN TO EXTREME CLOSE UP of Figure #1’s teeth. Yellow and rotting, several teeth can be seen missing from the mouth.

Figure #1

Best you bring me there yourself then.

*Raspy laughing

CUT TO HIGH ANGLE SHOT of both figures. Figure #1 uses free hand to reach for stolen Colt .45 Peacemaker from within the folds of his winter skin coat. Figure #2 takes aim.

CUT TO ARIAL SHOT of Pine forest. Silence is broken by the sound of gunshot, followed by a staggered second gunshot. A group of birds take flight from a nearby tree, disturbed by the noise.

CUT TO HIGH ANGLE SHOT of both figures.

CUT TO OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of Figure #2, smoke plume erupting from center chest of Figure 1# followed by several lines of blood. Figure 1# collapses to the ground, falling on back.

CUT TO CLOSE UP of Figure #2’s Face. Stoic and unsmiling, Figure #2 stares down at Figure #1 lying in his gore.

CUT TO CLOSE UP of Figure #2’s boots. At first nothing, then several thick lines of blood trail down the right pant leg staining the snow below, slowly pooling at his feet.

PAN UP TO FIGURE #2’s pelvis. Bright red blood gushes from a freshly smoking wound just above his crouch. Figure #2 crumples to the snow. Several seconds pass in silence.

CUT TO HIGH ANGLE SHOT of Figure #2 falling to his knees then collapsing on his stomach. Figure #2 drags himself towards Figure #1 until he his laying next to him.  

CUT TO CLOSE UP of Figure #1

Figure #1

Tell me Marshall. As I am not long for this world

I would like to learn the name of the man who finally cast me to the dirt.

CUT TO CLOSE UP of Figure #2, continuing to stare into the sky with a forlorn expression.

Figure #2

Glint. Marshall Glint.

CUT TO CLOSE UP of Figure #1

Coughing up blood that stains his chin and dribbles down either side of his face, pooling in his ears, Figure #1 struggles to breath.

Figure #1

Please to make your acquaintance Marshall Glint.

*Coughs up more blood then exhaling deeply.

My name is Clayton Cook.

*Long pause

But my friends call me, “Heavy”

             END SCENE