Write A Script

This is just like campfire stories, where one person leaves off, you pick up.

EXT. SOMEWHERE IN A DESERT SOMEWHERE
Sounds off fighter jets overhead are heard. TIGHT ON one crack in the ground. A loud thump trembles the ground and blue liguid seeps through the ground. A gassy glow flys over as ZOOM OUT to a hover craft flying by. ZOOM OUT more to a futurinst civiazation on an unidentified planet...

Over a far away hill a man reaches the peak. He looks as if he's been through hell and back. He wears a black pants and a plain white t-shirt. On top of his head a pile of dirty blonde hair, sweat gleams down his forehead.

blood stains cover his shirt, some his, others his enemy's. an unusual color of blood drips from his arms. he is not human.

He takes a peice of cloth from his pocket and covers his wound.

Wincing as he tightens it, he places his left hand over his eyes to look out into the horizan. He can't see anything.

No transportation, no animals, not even as much as a plant.

For a moment he lets the fear of death overwhelm him.

He looks down at his muddy sneakers and thinks::either this could be the beginning of a dangerous adventure or the end of my life::

He hears a mass crowd behind him. He runs like hell.

His feet thunder down on the ground beneath him. His breaths coming out as gasps.

He thinks of how much he would loved to rest, if just for a minute. But as the noises of the crowd increases, he knows he can't. Because if he does, it will be the death of him.

So he runs, for his life.

'........Not much of an option.' He thinks to himself.

" Kill the freak! He's the last one! Get him!" the people scream

the man starts to run and says, "I have to find Kiera!"

Upon hearing their screams and war cries. He picks up speed, already he feels like he could pass out. But falling into sweet unconsciouse bliss isn't an option.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that he shouldn't run any faster down a hill. He knows that it will have serious consequence. But right now, he's too busy running like Hell.

He looks over his shoulder, so that he can judge how far away they are, minutes, or is seconds. It doesn't matter once he sneaks that one glance, cause that one glance cost him his balance.

He felt himself forward, and threw his arms out to try and gain control of his body. Pointless, once he threw out his injured arm a sharp and searing pain shot threw it.

Ouch he says...

"That really smarts! I must remember not to fall over" With that he passes out.

"Wake up!", says a women's voice, He starts opening his eyes and sees a blurry image of a girl.

"What the-" he says,

"your hurt, we have to get you out of here, now" the girl says.

The man cringes from her - expecting the usual show of disgust at the fact that he is not from here.

But the girl shows none.

"You need to hurry. They are coming."

The man struggles to rise to his feet with the indiscriminate aide of his benefactor.

She was different. Something about her made her different. But couldn't work out quite what it was ....

The penny dropped;suddenly he realised she had 4 arms but no legs, and her head was on backwards!

THe man stumbles to his feet and shrieks.
THe mutant girl puts a finger over his mouth.

GIRL
Shhhhhhhh!

They hear the crowd in the distance and see the torches on the twilight horizon.

GIRL
Let's go!

She grabs the half witted man's hand and leads him to a dark cave.

'This can't be happening! First I'm being chased by an angry mob, and now a mutant girl is rescuing me. When she looks like she should be eating me!'

Without saying a word to her he began digging in his belongings looking for some form of light.

The girl stared at him in silence. "What're you doing?"

He fumbled about in the darkness trying to find his lighter. "It's obvious, isn't it? I'm trying to find some-ack!" His jacket caught fire and he began to scream and roll about in pain. Suddenly, a bright light frames one half of the girl's face and illuminates his burning back with great intensity. The light becomes split as firgues move into it, and the Cadillac's front lights fade before they reach back. A hail of gunfire ensues and the walls are painted red in seconds.

"Well, they never really stood a chance, did they."

Don Zhivano, the leader of the Musaya Mafia, brushed off a few flecks of dirt. "Donna Mílega... retrieve the damn thing from his bag, if you don't mind."