NO ONE LIVES by David Cohen September 11, 2009 FADE IN: EXT. MEADOW - NIGHT Moonlight drips off dewy weeds like diamonds. Heavy BREATHING suggests climax. CLOSE ON - a girl’s lips, wet with exhaustion. Hair in her eyes, sticking to her forehead. She wipes strands away with cracked, bloody nails. Blood smears her rouged cheeks. Moonlight reflects in her eyes. Blinks. Enough time has passed. She flips over... She’s 18, with a natural beauty punctuated by fierce determination. The look in her eyes is not yet that of fear, but rather, hatred. She focuses on the perimeter of the field where - The foot tall grass meets a wall of dense forest. Nothing alive in there. Nothing moving. She holds steady. Staring. Counts in nervous rasps... GIRL One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. No movement. Nothing. GIRL Come on, bitch. You can do it. She can’t move. Frozen in place, when - A FIGURE, a man, steps out of the forest into the meadow’s edge. We can’t see his face, but she knows... He’s staring right at her. She drops into the grass. Eyes flitting at the massive open night sky above her. Too many stars. No focus. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She RUNS. Wearing only panties and a guinea T, she bolts on strong legs. The dew causing the dirt to smear along her thighs like so much mascara. She runs for the far edge of the meadow where the great lawn meets an intimidating thick of trees. As she closes in on the forest... 2.
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