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                                       TEASER

                                                               FADE IN:

         1     INT. UNKNOWN DARK ROOM - NIGHT.                          1

               In the center of the darkness before us rests a large
               curtained square. Cables and wires leak out from beneath the
               curtains, running into clusters of large, bulky medical
               equipment on both sides.

               A heart monitor BEEPS steadily, accompanied by the sound of
               shallow breathing, as we cut to:

         2     EXT. STREET. NIGHT.                                      2

               Your good old New York city street. Evening traffic rolls
               past as the moon starts to make its presence known in the
               dark skies overhead.

               Strolling along the sidewalk, lost in her thoughts, is FAITH.
               Her hands are in her jacket pockets, and the frown and
               faraway look on her face tell us she's in Faith World and
               they're all out of guest passes.

               This isn't deterring NOA, walking alongside Faith and
               nattering away as she sips from a takeaway coffee, not really
               noticing or registering that Faith isn't listening.

                                   NOA
                         So anyway, then, I heard that
                         Debbie Kinsey is going to take over
                         as manageress of that new
                         Bloomingdale's they just opened up!
                         I mean, can you believe it?

               Noa takes Faith's silence as a 'yes.'

                                   NOA (cont'd)
                         I mean, back when I knew her, she
                         was nothing but a little brown
                         noser anyway, wouldn't surprise me
                         if she'd slept with half the
                         management staff to get her hands
                         on that little job! She's the kind
                         of girl who takes the word 'new
                         position' a bit too literally, if
                         you know what I mean...

               Noa glances at Faith, finally noticing that she's a million
               miles away.

                                   NOA (cont'd)
                         Uh, Faith?

               Faith blinks and turns to Noa at last, almost looking
               surprised to see her there.

                                   FAITH
                         What?

                                   NOA
                             (grins)
                         Oh, so you are in there! I was
                         starting to wonder! Have you heard
                         a word I've said in the last ten
                         minutes?

                                   FAITH
                             (covering)
                         Sure, you were talking about...
                             (beat; grins)
                         Alright, busted. You got me.

                                   NOA
                         Where were you? Anywhere nice?

                                   FAITH
                         Thinking about some stuff, that's
                         all.

                                   NOA
                             (mischievous)
                         Stuff that involves a guy? For
                         example, a certain tall, dark and
                         handsome bringer of information,
                         shares his name with one of the
                         angels?

               Faith glares at Noa, but the look bounces straight off her.
               Faith rolls her eyes, grinning again despite herself.

                                   FAITH
                         Maybe. We had a pretty intense talk
                         the other day, made me think about
                         a few things.

                                   NOA
                         Like what?

                                   FAITH
                             (shrugs)
                         You know, this and that.

                                   NOA
                         Don't try to pull a voidy on me,
                         missy! I can tell when you're-

               WHAM! Noa is knocked backwards, spilling coffee over herself,
               as a MAN races past the two girls, barging into Noa and
               disappearing down a side street.

               Noa, open mouthed in shock, tries to shake away some of the
               coffee splashed over her, but as a second FIGURE rushes past
               them, little more than a black blur, Faith looks up sharply.

               Frowning, she looks all round but there's no sign of either
               person by now. As she goes back to helping Noa dry off, we
               cut into:

         3     EXT. SIDE STREET - CONTINUOUS.                           3

               BRILL RAND races through an uncharacteristically abandoned
               New York side street. His expression reads of a paranoid
               junkie, but he is neither of those things. He's clean, sober
               and someone (or something) really is after him.

               He turns a corner, finding himself in a:

         4     EXT. BACK ALLEY - CONTINUOUS.                            4

               Brill tumbles past a HOMELESS WOMAN. She yelps, but it falls
               on deaf ears. He just continues on.

                                   HOMELESS WOMAN
                         Damn punk, watch where ya's going!
                         Got civilized peoples walking here!

               The Homeless Woman starts to settle herself back down,
               muttering to herself - when the BLACK BLUR whips a nasty
               slash with a STRAIGHT RAZOR, opening her jugular.

               Crimson spills out.

               She stumbles backward, falling into the wall. Gravity pulls
               her to the earth.

               She is dead within seconds.

               Brill throws a glance over his shoulder, his eyes bulging as
               he sees the dead woman sliding to the floor, and he increases
               the speed of his stride.

               He launches himself into the air, latching onto a fire escape
               with both hands.

               He scales it like a spider would its web; climbing higher and
               higher, muscles pulling tight, toward heaven, finally
               reaching:

         5     EXT. BUILDING ROOFTOP - CONTINUOUS.                      5

               Brill pushes himself up and over the ledge, crawling then
               falling onto the concrete. It only takes a moment before he
               is on his feet.

               His breathing becomes steady; the panting depreciates.

               It is a tranquil moment, but one that doesn't last. The sound
               of faint CHATTERING stirs the air.

               Brill slings his head back over his shoulder, eyeing the edge
               of the rooftop. The cold wave running up his spine brings
               about a pale complexion upon his face.

               He takes a cautious step, followed by another. The pattern
               repeats itself as he moves closer to the edge.

               The CHATTERING fades to nothing as a guarded Brill peers over
               the edge.

               His mouth starts to drop as a FLASH OF BLACK pulls Brill Rand
               over the edge.

               The sound of CHATTERING resumes.

               And intensifies.

               We hear Brill let out a brief, strangled SCREAM, before we:

                                                             BLACK OUT:



                                    END OF TEASER
                                       ACT ONE

                                                               FADE IN:

         6     EXT. CRIME SCENE - DAY                                   6

               POLICE TAPE lines the entrances to the alley. The scene is
               crowded with officers, both uniformed and not.

               At the eye of the storm, stands an authoritative DETECTIVE
               SING. His long black coat swirls around him as he turns,
               explaining to officer after officer exactly how to do their
               jobs.

                                   SING
                             (to random cop)
                         You! What the hell are you doing?

               The RANDOM stops in mid-stride, his eyes go doughy and he
               points a finger to his chest.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                             (exhaling)
                         Yeah, you. Where the hell do you
                         think you're going?

                                   RANDOM
                         Uh, I was taking this coffee over
                         to Johnson...

               Sing rolls his eyes, shakes his head then looks the young
               Random in the eye.

                                   SING
                         Johnson can't get his own damn
                         coffee?

                                   RANDOM
                         N-no sir, I mean yes, I mean-

                                   SING
                             (gestures behind him)
                         Go help secure the line back there
                         and keep the shutters out.  Last
                         thing we need is the...

               A NEWS CREW infiltrate the crime scene, tearing past a weakly
               supported line.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                         ...press.
                             (to himself)
                         Damn it.
                             (to Random)
                         Get over there.

               The Random starts to move but realizes he still has Johnson's
               coffee.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                             (sighs)
                         Just give me the damn coffee.

               The Random complies before shuffling off.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                         And next time, tell Johnson to
                         organise his refreshments himself!

               Sing takes a sip; his face goes sour and he pours it to the
               ground, dropping the cup mid-pour.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                             (mutters)
                         Jesus Christ. Guy can't even get a
                         rookie to bring him a decent
                         drink...

               He sucks it up. Regains his composure; straightening his tie,
               checking his hair before finally taking the first step toward
               the influx of reporters and cameramen.

               Only a few steps in, he catches a glimpse of someone coming
               up behind him:

               JON QUINN, who is hastily dressed and looks about as thrilled
               as Sing to be there.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                         Well, well, well, look what the cat
                         finally dragged in. Welcome back to
                         active duty, Detective.

                                   QUINN
                             (sarcastic)
                         Yeah, thanks.
                             (then)
                         Why am I here, Sing?

                                   SING
                             (sarcastic)
                         Isn't it obvious? Some detective. 
                         There was a crime here, Jon. You
                         know, those things we solve. You
                         have had a glance at the job
                         description, right?

                                   QUINN
                         Have you?

                                   SING
                         Save it.

               Quinn looks at all the commotion about them.

                                   QUINN
                         Alright, what the sitch?

               Sing leads him over to the nexus of traffic where the
               pavement is splattered red with a dark lumpy thing in the
               center; the corpse of Brill Rand.

                                   QUINN(cont'd)
                         Jumper?

                                   SING
                         No, not a jumper. Not suicide. 
                         Homicide.

               Quinn scrunches up his face as he gets a better look at the
               twisted corpse before them.

                                   QUINN
                         You sure?

                                   SING
                         Absolutely.

                                   QUINN
                         We got any witnesses saw the perp?
                         Any evidence? Any anything?

               A smile breaks on Sing's face.

                                   SING
                         That's the interesting bit. They
                         didn't leave anything, but...

                                   QUINN
                         But?

               As Sing puts on some plastic gloves, he kneels next to the
               corpse. Take's the head and twists it back for Quinn to see -
               Quinn grimaces.

               Its lower jaw is missing and there is virtually nothing left
               of the mouth.

               Quinn looks away.

                                   QUINN (cont'd)
                         Aw, damn, man! I don't need to see
                         this kind of stuff first thing in
                         the morning.

                                   SING
                         No teeth. Nor anything left of the
                         gums for that matter.
                         Lower jaw has been removed with
                         almost surgical precision. Like
                         they just tore it out of his head
                         then used a knife to scoop out the
                         upper portions.

                                   QUINN
                         Ugh. Possible motive?

                                   SING
                         Hell if I know. Could be an
                         incredibly pissed off dentist.
                             (off his look)
                         You tell me, Detective. It's your
                         case.

                                   QUINN
                         And how exactly did I luck into
                         such good fortune?

                                   SING
                         In a minute. First...

               Sing gestures Quinn to once again follow him. They travel to
               the most secluded area they can find and continue.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                         You and I don't need to have
                         another talk, do we?

               Quinn folds his arms, looking away.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                         Listen Jon, you've got a job to do.
                         Don't let the small stuff keep you
                         from doing.
                             (off his look)
                         No matter how distasteful it may be
                         at times.

                                   QUINN
                         I would hardly consider the murder
                         of Mike Lehto "small stuff".
                             (then)
                         And I consider this whole job
                         'distasteful.'

               He gets right up in Sing's face.

                                   SING
                         Hey, I didn't do it. Until twelve
                         hours ago, I wasn't even myself.
                             (then)
                         Hell, for all I know, I could have
                         done it.

                                   QUINN
                         Not really winning me over here.

                                   SING
                         I'll deal. Don't forget why you're
                         here. We need that murdering Slayer
                         brought down.
                             (then)
                         Do your job, Jon.

                                   QUINN
                         My job is about stopping evil. My
                         assignment is the Slayer. The
                         latter doesn't seem important now
                         that I have to consider that I'm
                         working for the former.

                                   SING
                         Jon... Omelets. Eggs.
                             (then)
                         We're doing good work. Dangerous
                         work. Work that requires extreme
                         measures to insure the good of the
                         whole.

                                   QUINN
                             (sarcastic)
                         Oh, it's all better now.

                                   SING
                         Hey, Lehto was killed to protect
                         your mission. If you stop now, his
                         death will have been in vain.

                                   QUINN
                         Seeing as how I can't get a beat on
                         the Slayer here in New York, I'm
                         leaning toward the idea that his
                         death was in vain as well as
                         unnecessary.

               There is a long pause between the two.

                                   QUINN (cont'd)
                         Forget it.
                             (then)
                         What the hell am I, specifically, 
                         doing here?

                                   SING
                         Pryor Webb.

               Quinn snaps his head back in the direction of the corpse.

                                   QUINN
                         That's not...

                                   SING
                         No. That is one Brill Rand who was
                         recently "misplaced" from an asylum
                         downtown. His legal guardian,
                         however, is Mr. Webb.

                                   QUINN
                         Okay. And?

                                   SING
                         You have a relationship with Mr.
                         Webb, I believe?

                                   QUINN
                         Not really, no.

                                   SING
                         You used our server to research Mr.
                         Webb over the last 48 hours. Don't
                         bother to deny it. It's all been
                         logged and well documented.

                                   QUINN
                             (sighs)
                         Of course it has.

                                   SING
                         Relax, man. We don't care. You have
                         some familiarity with the subject
                         and we would like you to simply
                         gain his confidence.

                                   QUINN
                         I thought it was imperative for me
                         to get back on the Slayer's trail.
                         Why Pryor?

                                   SING
                         You are, don't forget it, and as to
                         the 'why,' that's classified.

                                   QUINN
                         That's not going to fly.

                                   SING
                         It had better grow wings, cause it
                         has too.
                             (off his look)
                         It's all you're getting.

               Quinn looks back to the body, almost sickened, coming to a
               realization.

                                   QUINN
                         I get it. So that's what this is
                         all about? A means to an end?
                         A way to properly introduce me into
                         Webb's life?

                                   SING
                         No. This was just a happy
                         coincidence for the cause. We have
                         no idea what the hell happened here
                         more than you do.
                             (pause)
                         You should probably get to work.
                         Press are waiting for a statement
                         and seeing as you're now the
                         officer in charge, you get the
                         honors.

               Quinn starts to leave.

                                   SING (cont'd)
                         Talk to Webb, close this case and
                         find the Slayer.
                             (then)
                         Get it done, Quinn. Get it done.

               Quinn keeps walking without looking back.

                                   QUINN
                         I'll do my job. You can forget
                         about the Slayer, trail's cold.

               The PRESS spot Quinn flashing his badge and instantly swarm
               all over him.

         7     INT. WEBB RESEARCHING - LABORATORY. DAY.                 7

               PRYOR WEBB is wearing huge bug-like goggles while prodding a
               long black instrument against a small SILVER SPHERE making a
               sharp CLACKING sound.

               Pryor's large black electrical glove grasps the silver
               sphere, giving it a sharp squeeze - it folds like a sponge.

                                   PRYOR
                             (grins)
                         Brilliant...

               Noa and Faith enter, munching on bagels.

                                   NOA
                         Heya, boss!
                             (holds up bag)
                         We've brought bagels!

               Noa foolishly tosses the bag of bready goodness through the
               air toward Pryor.

               One by one, the bagels spill out as the bag circles through
               the air.

               Pryor leaps forward to stop the mess from spreading, dropping
               the Silver Sphere onto the ground causing an eruption of
               linoleum, but still managing to catch the nearly emptied bag.

               Stunned silence by all. Faith and Noa exchange a look,
               glancing back at the huge crater the silver sphere has left
               in the lab's floor.

               Pryor reaches into the bag, pulling out a bagel, taking a
               huge bite, eyes on Noa.

                                   NOA (cont'd)
                             (re: bagels)
                         Uh, I'll just pick these up.
                             (re: linoleum rubble)
                         Probably need a dustpan for that.

                                   PRYOR
                             (seething)
                         Probably.

               Pryor picks the sphere up off the floor. Faith joins him.

                                   FAITH
                         Whatcha got?
                             (re: ball)
                         I'm guessing it's not made by nerf.

               Pryor gives it a squeeze.

                                   FAITH (cont'd)
                         Or maybe it is...

                                   PRYOR
                         I've been here all night, running
                         every test I know, and I haven't
                         learned a thing.

                                   FAITH
                         Well, I'm sure-

                                   PRYOR
                         It's awesome.

                                   FAITH
                         Oh. Okay, cool. I'm guessing that's
                         a good thing.

                                   PRYOR
                         Not only is it a challenge to
                         deconstruct its properties, but it
                         can be harnessed into some
                         formidable weaponry for our cause.

                                   FAITH
                         Still, if you've been at it all
                         night, and by the smell of things,
                         you have, you might want to head to
                         your office and take a nap, or
                         vicodin, or something.

               Pryor snaps the bug-eyed goggles from off his head.

                                   PRYOR
                         You're probably right.

                                   FAITH
                         Probably?  Don't you mean "always"?

               Playfully thinks on it.

                                   PRYOR
                         No.

               Pryor leaves the room. Faith stoops down next to Noa, helping
               her to clean up the rubble.

         8     INT. PRYOR'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS                         8

               Pryor enters.

               Drops back in his big chair and stretches. He reclines,
               spinning his chair in a perfect circle.

               He arches forward. Taps his hands on the armrests. Too
               fidgety to relax. Something catches his eye - the FLASHING
               RED LIGHT on his answering machine.  He leans clicks
               "Playback".

         9     INT. THE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS                              9

               Faith and Noa carry chunks of linoleum and bagels to the
               trash.

                                   NOA
                         Sorry about this, Faith. Sure this
                         isn't how you wanted to start your
                         day.

                                   FAITH
                         And here I was, all ready to peel
                         scales off whatever Pryor's got
                         stored in the freezer today.

                                   NOA
                         Sorry.

                                   FAITH
                         Read the sarcasm, kid.

                                   NOA
                         Sorry.

               Faith turns to face Noa and places her hands on her
               shoulders.

                                   FAITH
                         Okay, what's up?

                                   NOA
                         What?

                                   FAITH
                         You're a big sappy spaz this
                         morning.

                                   NOA
                         I thought the bag was sealed.

                                   FAITH
                         I'm serious, you didn't act like
                         this last night.
                             (then)
                         Spill.

               Noa flops on the hall sofa.

                                   NOA
                         Okay. You remember the guy I told
                         you about?

                                   FAITH
                         Several actually.

                                   NOA
                         The latest. Jon.

                                   FAITH
                             (no idea)
                         Right.

                                   NOA
                         I called his work this morning.

               Noa balls up.

                                   NOA (cont'd)
                         They asked if I was his wife.

                                   FAITH
                         Ouch.

                                   NOA
                         Yeah, "ouch".

                                   FAITH
                         Sorry, but c'mon, its not like you
                         have problems finding guys.

                                   NOA
                         Just good ones.

                                   FAITH
                             (shakes head)
                         No such creature.

               Noa grabs the remote from the seat next to her and clicks on
               the hall television. It's a news report about a homicide.

               Pryor comes barreling down the hall.

                                   PRYOR
                         Noa, did you take any calls or see
                         anyone come here looking for me
                         last night?

                                   NOA
                         Nope.

                                   FAITH
                         Something wrong?

                                   PRYOR
                         I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not.

               Pryor sees the news report on the television. The scene is of
               the earlier crime scene. Quinn is visible off to the side,
               but Noa doesn't notice.

               Pryor zeroes in on the covered body being wheeled off. An arm
               slips down from underneath the blanket, revealing a tattoo
               similar to the one Pryor has on the back of his wrist. He
               looks at his own upon the recognition.

                                   PRYOR (cont'd)
                             (to himself)
                         Then again, maybe...

               A slim figure catches his eye on the screen, MR. ROBIN of the
               SECOND CIRCLE looms within the crowd of bystanders before
               easing himself away from the camera's prying eye.

                                   FAITH
                             (to get his attention)
                         Pryor? As in earth to?

               He's lost in thought and doesn't hear her. Faith shrugs it
               off.

               Noa's cell ROARS to life with some tragic eighties pop ring
               tone. She takes the call.

        10     INT. WEBB RESEARCHING/CRIME SCENE - INTERCUT            10

                                   NOA
                         Hello?

                                   QUINN
                         Hey doll, how's your day?

                                   NOA
                             (cold)
                         Married.

                                   QUINN
                         Excuse me?

                                   NOA
                         What the hell, Jon?

                                   QUINN
                             (beat)
                         I assure you, I really, really
                         don't know.

                                   NOA
                         I called your office to wish you
                         luck on your first day back. They
                         asked if I was your wife.

                                   QUINN
                         What?
                             (then)
                         Oh, wow. I forgot.

                                   NOA
                         You forgot?

               Quinn looks down to his ring finger, and is nearly knocked
               out by the platinum band that adorns it.

                                   QUINN
                             (quickly)
                         Forgot to mention the fact that I
                         was recently separated.

                                   NOA
                             (suddenly beaming)
                         Oh!

               Quinn wiggles the ring off his finger and tosses it through
               the air.

                                   NOA (cont'd)
                         But you guys are over and done now,
                         right? No hope of reconciliation?

                                   QUINN
                         That is not likely to happen.

                                   NOA
                         How long?

                                   QUINN
                         Well, uh, I'm not going to lie,
                         it's fairly recent, but it's pretty
                         much over. That relationship....

               Quinn spies Sing lingering about.

                                   QUINN(cont'd)
                         ... is dead and done.

                                   NOA
                         So you're single?

                                   QUINN
                             (smirks)
                         You tell me.

                                   NOA
                             (bubbly)
                         So, we still going out tonight,
                         then?

                                   QUINN
                         Afraid not. Work stuff.

                                   NOA
                         Oh. 
                             (catches up)
                         You were calling to cancel.

                                   QUINN
                         Well, yeah, but not just that.

                                   NOA
                         Then what?

                                   QUINN
                         Is your boss in today?

               Noa watches as Pryor enters his office from the end of the
               hall.

                                   NOA
                         Pryor?  Yeah... why?

               An officer comes up with some papers for Quinn to sign.

                                   QUINN
                         I'm sorry, babe, I've gotta go. 
                         I'll get a hold of you later.

                                   NOA
                         That sounds like a plan.

               They both clasp their phones shut.

                                                         BACK TO SCENE:

               Noa looks around and notices she's been deserted. She changes
               the channel to some music videos and, we cut to:
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.