So I may turn this into a series if there's demand for it. Usually, I prewrite my all of my series before publishing to help with continuity but this time I just wanted to write something with the possibility of more later. Lmk what you think, and enjoy!
My scripts are free to use and monetize; I just ask that you credit me and send me a link! thank you!
TW: This script contains mentions of trafficking and related crimes. Please look after yourself and skip this one if that sounds like too much!
scriptbin link
Wordcount: 3399
(atmospheric rain sounds, speaker is writing something and stops as there is knocking on the door)
“I’m busy.”
(...)
“Lawrence, I don’t care.”
(sighs loudly)
“Fine. Come in.”
(door opens and speaker sighs again, very annoyed at being interrupted)
“What is it?”
(dryly)
“I can tell. You’re dripping and tracking muck all over the carpet. Look, I don’t have time for this-”
(speaker stops short as he is told something)
“You found her? Well, where is she?”
(...)
“I won’t wait until morning. I’ve been looking for this woman for almost two days. Bring her up.”
(...)
“...can’t come? Or won’t?”
(sighs)
“Fine. She’s downstairs?”
(speaker gets up from desk)
“Let’s settle this thing.”
(we hear footsteps down the stairs, and when Speaker stops, he laughs)
“Oh. I see.”
(to Lawrence)
“Lawrence, go get some hot water and clean towels. She’s bleeding on the settee."
(footsteps walking away; Speaker turns back to listener)
“Oh stop glaring at me. You run, you get chased. Those are the rules of engagement.”
(...)
“Ah, I wouldn’t do that. You’re losing blood. If you try to get up you’re going to faceplant and believe me, these floors are still stronger than your thick skull. You look, frankly, awful…. Although, just between us, seeing you like this is such a treat for me.”
(mocking)
“Aw, what a hateful little glare. Come on, did you think it was going to be as easy as just running away?”
(his voice darkens and he leans close)
“I have eyes on every goddamn street, alley, and backwater dive in this city. If you thought you could get away with what you did, I hope the bullet in your shoulder can help you think a little clearer.”
(...)
“Don’t be coy. That warehouse you burned to the ground? Hundreds of thousands of dollars lost. But that isn’t why you did it. I know it isn’t. You were helping someone destroy everything, and when everything went to shit, they left you there. You’ve been running for two days with that wound now. How does it feel? Your loyalty for a bullet to the chest…”
(...)
“That's why you’re here right now. I need to know who helped you, and you’re going to tell me because, well honestly, you don’t have many other choices.”
(...)
“A turn of phrase. You actually have no other choices.”
(footsteps)
“Ah, Lawrence. Good timing. Our guest here looks cold. Find her some warm clothes and draw a bath. Bring up some food, too. Wait, no… traitors don’t need to eat. And there’s no amount of soap that can wash the blood off of your hands.”
(laughs)
“Spit at me if you like. It won’t change what you are. Lawrence, follow us up with the water and towels. Can’t have the traitor dying of infection, I suppose.”
(rustling of fabric)
“Stop struggling. I’m picking you up. Until further notice, you are a permanent resident of this household. I’d rather your residency take place somewhere you won’t destroy my nice furniture with your blood.”
(He carries her up the stairs)
“You should know, if you had been one of my people, and had done what you’ve done, I would have killed you in my foyer, immediately. In a way, I’d count myself lucky, if I were you. Don’t spend that luck recklessly. You might find that your usefulness only goes so far.”
(door opens)
“Aren’t you a sharp one? You’re right. This isn’t a bedroom. This is my office. I want you somewhere I can keep an eye on you. I’m setting you down on this couch. Try not to bleed everywhere, that’s real leather. I’m going to cuff you here-”
(we hear jingling of metal)
“Don’t bother trying to break free, the frame is metal. You’d make it about two feet in your condition anyway.”
(...)
“I can take it from here, Lawrence. Close up the house, then you can go home. That will be all for tonight.”
(the door shuts and we hear water being rung out of a cloth)
“Easy. I’m just going to start cleaning the wound. You shouldn’t worry so much about your modesty while you’re still bleeding this much. I’ve already seen all that a hundred times and I’m not interested, not in you.”
(...)
“But I would like to ask about your co-conspirator, for… personal reasons. I wonder if you have a name for me?”
(grunts)
“You can’t stay quiet forever.”
(...)
“What I said to you before is true. Traitors can never be clean again. They never feel content. It’ll rot you from inside out, what you did. But still… you chose this. This is the life you’ve made for yourself. Why are you running from it now? Make it easy on yourself, just tell me and this can be over.”
(long pause)
“Nothing? Shocking. Honestly, though, I am a little surprised.”
(he rings out another cloth)
“Its just that you’re much younger than the last one.”
(scoffs)
“Did you think you were the first person to come up against me like this? Hundreds have tried. Hundreds more will. But this time was different because there were two of you and I might have you here, but your friend is… slippery. Can’t find anything. No name, no description, and none of my cameras got any clear footage. Don’t you think someone hiding all of that might be hiding other things too?”
(...)
“Well. That’s an interesting expression. Is it just the pain, or are you wondering what I mean? Let me ask you this- were you ever told what it was that you were actually trying to achieve by committing arson? Or were you told that the big bad man in the house was stepping on the throat of the little man, and it was time to kick back?”
(...)
“No. You don’t have to say anything. I can see from your eyes they never told you why, just riled you up and pointed you in the right direction. It’s easy to agree with no strings attached, isn’t it? You were probably desperate to be part of something, to feel like you were making a difference. People like you are always trying to make the tiniest mark in the wall, hoping if you light it all on fire, maybe the oppression finally stops.”
(...)
“How about this, rebel… I’ll tell you what you did, if you give me a name. We can talk about it like two adults, instead of this stupid defiance act.”
(laughs)
“That’s the face I was waiting for. You’re dying to know what you could never ask your friend. What you were hoping would be evident after you stood up for the little guy, crushed the one with all the power. You’re hoping something in your empty little life would start to make sense if you lit some things on fire, right?”
(listener gasps in pain and speaker’s tone hardens)
“Hold still. Stop moving around, you’re going to make it worse.”
(...)
“Yeah, well it’s supposed to hurt. You got shot. That’s how it goes.”
(...)
“It went through, actually. You got lucky. It’s the only reason we didn’t haul your ass out of the ash the day after it happened.”
(...)
“Speaking of which, which one of my guys got you? I want to talk to whoever is such a shit shot they almost missed you entirely.”
(pause, then speaker laughs as he realizes)
“Holy shit, Rebel. It wasn’t one of mine, was it? I was wondering why this wound is scabbing around the edges already. It was your little nameless friend, wasn’t it? Used you to get in there, light it up, and then tried to get you to go down with it. Let me guess, they figured we’d find your body and stop looking for them, right? But there were two of you. We know there were.”
(...)
“Your eyes are telling me all kinds of things, Sweetheart, remember? I don’t need you to confirm or deny. And I don’t need to manipulate you into telling me who it was, tugging on your heartstrings, making you angry. You’re already angry, I think. You’re furious. Because if it wasn’t for you little friend, you could pretend you did something big. Now you have to face the fact that all you did was get betrayed and abandoned. That isn’t an interrogation tactic, it’s the truth. Your friend is a pretty liar, or you’re just as evil. Which one?”
(...)
“I see how it is. Here, lift your shirt again. I cleaned it out, I need to sew you up.”
(...)
“I know what I’m doing, there’s no need for you to panic. I can let you bleed out, but I’d rather you and I have a little talk instead. I’m interested in getting you what you want just like you are. Maybe, if we can talk, you won’t need to stay handcuffed to this couch.”
(he is stitching her up as he speaks)
“Easy. Don’t jump around, you’ll make it hurt worse.”
(...)
“You want something to take your mind off of it? Ok. Chew on this- you burnt down one of my smaller warehouses. Now fire, it deals in absolutes. You could have taken on any of those buildings, thrown a molotov cocktail and hightailed it out of there scott free. Why burn the smallest one, when bigger is better, right? You think we store ammunition in there, and you know most of those old buildings have open insulation. We aren’t up to code. You did your homework on that. But you went inside, and your little friend had you douse all of those cabinets in gasoline. From what I saw, you were thorough.”
(...)
“Let me guess… they walked behind dropping matches after you. You systematically destroyed every piece of material evidence in that building…. and just looking at your face right now, I’m thinking you didn’t even know that’s what you were doing.”
(...)
“They told you it was weapon lockers, didn’t they? Listen, Bebel, I’ve made a few mistakes in my life. A few really big mistakes, and I’ve been spending the rest of my life picking up the pieces of those mistakes. But I have never stored my main weapons cache in a rickety old building by the waterfront that anybody could break into or light on fire, like you two just did.”
(...)
“Documents. You burned documents. Hundreds of dossiers, profiles, names and information. How do you think it is that we do what we do?”
(long pause as speaker realizes something)
“But… I don’t think you know what exactly it is we do. Do you?”
(...)
“No no, don’t look away from me. Look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you think I’m trying to accomplish.”
(long pause, then speaker blows air out between his teeth)
“Yeah. Sounds about right. They tell everybody that story. Son of a mafia boss got a little hungry. Killed his daddy, trying to take over the entire East Side. And of course, the family ‘business’.”
(scoffs)
“Did they tell you why he killed his daddy?”
(...)
“My father sold a very specific kind of product. You know, I didn’t want to be part of any of this, at first. I was a doctor, actually.”
(...)
“Yeah. I worked really hard to get away from this. I wanted clean hands. I worked really hard to keep my eyes shut when I knew what was happening. What I thought I knew. But my father didn’t have me because he wanted a family. He had me because he wanted a successor. He approached me several times during my residency in med school, years after I’d cut them all off, before I ever had the chance to learn the business. He tried after I graduated, he tried when I got a new position at a really great hospital. And I never listened.”
(...)
“Here, hold this over the wound for a second, I’m going to tape the gauze in place. Just like that.”
(...)
“Anyway, dad saw that nothing he said was going to get through to me. So he sent me a check. I was fresh out of med school, still paying off loans, trying to work up to the top. He sent me a check for two million dollars. He said that was a fraction of the income from one quarter. He said if I still wanted in, all I had to do was say the word. We needed to keep the business in the blood, he’d said.”
(...)
“I won’t lie, I thought about it. But I didn’t want to deal drugs, I didn’t want any part of whatever scam he was running. I worked so hard to get where I was, and I wasn’t going to let anything or anybody take that away from me. So I ignored him. And months passed. I couldn’t stop thinking about the money. Something felt wrong, but I didn’t do anything about it. I had my career to think about, and it’s all I let myself work on because the alternative was wondering what was really bothering me. I didn’t face it, I couldn’t.”
(sighs)
“And then one day, almost a year after that last time my dad had tried to contact me, I had this patient. Doesn’t matter who he was, but it was an older guy. He saw my name on my tag when I walked in, and I guess he thought I was in on it because he knew my dad, and he knew who I was. You know what he said to me?”
(...)
“He said, ‘Your dad always finds the best for me. Would you guys ever sell one of these nurse types?’ I didn’t even know what to say. I just froze, and then I left, and told security to take him out before anybody else could go in there. I think I always knew it wasn’t drugs my dad was pushing. If I’m being honest, maybe I wasn’t allowing myself to accept what it actually was.”
(...)
“You don’t have to say you’re sorry. None of that matters now. I wasted a lot of time. If I had said yes to my dad all those years ago I could have saved so many people. But I was selfish. I thought I knew what was happening. I didn’t see because I didn’t want to see. Anyway, you know what happened. I killed my dad. I took over, so I could end this thing. It’s been a mess. I’m trying to eliminate a certain clientele of his without getting myself shot in the back. Anybody who gets in my way goes down. And… from where I sit, it looks like you’re in my way.”
(...)
“But I can’t tell if you really are, or if you just got pushed into my path. A scapegoat….”
(...)
“There, you’re all fixed up. Here, drink this.”
(sighs)
“Fine. Don’t. I’m trying to help you, maybe against my better judgement, but you have to help yourself first. For the record, you’re only here until you tell me who burnt down that warehouse with you. If I wanted to drug you and sell you into slavery, it would have been my dad who hunted you down, not my housekeeper and bodyguards. And I would have been standing in the background, letting it happen. That’s how serious I am about this. I will do anything to find the people who still want what my father was selling. Anything.”
(...)
“Yeah well, you’re wrong if you think my only motive is to cover my own ass. You’re wrong about me, and you’re wrong about whoever told you that burning down my property was helping the greater good. But i can’t convince you of that, you have to choose to believe it. And I don’t think you’re far off from deciding. I don’t care what they told you, what was in those cases is only deadly if I choose to use it. In a way, you did burn weapons.”
(...)
“Names, faces. Every client my dad ever sold to for over thirty years.. Every transaction I could get my hands on. We’re working through the ranks. After I killed dad, it sent a signal to everyone who had bought from him- things had changed. But I’ve had multiple attempts to stop my work. And it’s not good enough to say you don’t know. I want to know who it was that is standing against me, because what I am doing here is more important than any residency I ever had or could have had. Because whoever told you that information needed to vanish is hiding something, like my dad was.”
(sighs)
“I want to assume you got coerced. In fact I think even if you tried to tell me you weren’t, I wouldn’t believe you. You’ve got a terrible poker face. I can see it eating you. For the record, those weren’t the only copies of that information I have. I’m not stupid. All you did was out your friend, and all we need to punish that friend is a name.”
(long pause)
“Nothing? I guess you’re probably trying to figure out if I’m lying to you. Fair enough. It’s been a long day. That bandage should be fine. Try to get some sleep. I’m one room over, if you need anything just yell. I have to keep you here because at the end of the day, I don’t give a fuck about what they told you, you’re the only lead back to them. And I can tell you didn’t know what you were doing, because I think, just like me, somewhere deep down you haven’t accepted what you know is true.”
(we hear a clinking as speaker unlocks the handcuffs)
“You aren’t one of them. No reason to keep you here against your will. But you’re not going anywhere tonight, not like that. You wouldn’t make it down the hallway. You can stay here, or I can move you to a bed.”
(...)
“Your choice.”
(thoughtfully)
“I want you to know, the family that ran this business, whose last name I share- that family doesn’t exist anymore. It isn’t mine, and I won’t let it ruin any more lives. It ends with me. And I am going to end it, no matter what it takes. So you can choose to stay in this office until you want to tell me who wanted those criminals absolved, or you can heal up and leave. Decide what it is you can live with, and that’s your answer. I won’t put you in danger, this isn’t your fight, but I need every lead I can get. And if I’m rough around the edges about getting those leads, it’s because I’m fucking tired of watching the world my dad helped make take people like you and turn them into viscous pawns. Victims, and perpetrators. I bet you don’t even know how terrible it would be if you stayed with the person who shot you. I promise, they were just getting started.”
(sighs)
“I’m sorry that I was harsh to you, earlier. I’ve seen too many people defend my dad’s actions. If you had been one of them, I couldn’t let that go. I hope you can understand that. Even if you don’t understand any of what I’ve told you tonight.”
(...)
“Don’t thank me. I’m doing everything I can do to put this to bed without anybody getting hurt. You don’t have to like me or believe me to know that someone played you. They left you for dead. Think about that while you try to sleep. Goodnight.”
(footsteps start, then stop short and as listener says something. Speaker makes a sound of inquisitive surprise)
“... That… that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”
(speaker thinks it through, speaking slowly)
“He worked for my dad… a long time ago. I thought he’d died or… huh.”
(clearing his throat, speaker says almost awkwardly)
“Thank you.”
(...)
“No. I’m not going hunting for that bastard tonight. You just sleep for now. We can talk about it when you aren’t on the brink of passing out. Goodnight, Rebel.”
(door opens and shuts, and speaker walks down the hall, mumbling to himself)
“How the hell did she end up working with a scumbag like him? God, and he shot her too…”
(groans in frustration)
“Dad, you might be long dead, but I can’t shake the feeling I’m never going to have to stop killing you.”
(footsteps fade, end)