The Second Primitive stepping over his hunting mate,
stalking the Creature into the shadows, where it has
collapsed. The torch finally landing, for the first
time, on its face.
When the torchlight hits its face, the Creature attacks.
But the Primitive prevails. He drops his torch and
dispatches the already wounded Creature with strong
hard stabs of his weapon, one of which penetrates the
LOW ANGLE ON THE DEAD CREATURE
The torch, which lies on the ground, illuminates the
dead creature's face. Its wounds are flowing with the
oily black blood, which, oddly now, BEGINS TO POOL. As
if it has intelligence, sentience. Pooling and traveling
into a fissure in the cave floor. And disappearing.
ANGLE ON THE SECOND PRIMITIVE
Watching this, unknowing. His chest heaving from the
fight, as the spots of Oily Black Blood which have
spattered onto him begin to crawl. Crawling toward his
eyes and mouth. Causing him to let out grunts of fear.
Which are the sounds we hear as the CAMERA SLOWLY CRANES
UP past the struggling Primitive to the roof of the
cave, where the dancing shadows of the torch FADE AWAY
with the sounds of struggle. Moving into darkness and
silence. But only for a moment. Until:
SUNSHINE BREAKS THROUGH THE ROOF OF THE CAVE - PRESENT
Along with the spade of a shovel. And then -- the
earthen cave ceiling gives way and A BOY wearing Nikes
and an old t-shirt falls through it. Falling PAST
CAMERA. We hear a YELL, then a THUD, and a CLATTERING of
the shovel that's fallen in with him. Then a pained