Blade Page #2
- R
- Year:
- 1998
- 120 min
- 726 Views
The beat gets LOUDER. The action heavier. The atmosphere more
narcotic. People are stripping off their clothes, sweating like
fiends. It's a virtual orgy.
Dennis laughs, reveling in the hedonism. Everything rises to a fever
pitch --
DENNIS:
(over the music)
F***, I need a drink!!!
Raquel just smiles -- then Dennis notices a DROP OF SOMETHING spatter
his hand. It looks like blood. Dennis looks up, concerned --
-- MORE BLOOD DROPLETS are falling. Raquel's face is sprinkled with
them now. Dennis stops dancing. What is this? Some kind of f***ed up
performance art?
Raquel turns her face toward the ceiling, as if washing herself in a
summer shower, now the other club goers are looking up too --
BLOOD SHOWERS DOWN
from sprinkler heads in the ceiling, drenching the dancers. The club
goers love it, thrusting their heads back, mouths open wide to
receive the crimson offering.
Horrified, Dennis recoils, turning towards --
RAQUEL,
whose face morphs into a preternatural snarl. Her canines extend,
tapering to razor-sharp points. Her tongue flicks, lizard-like as
fingernails sharpen into claws. All this while the whites of her eyes
BLEED RED, pupils oscillating hypnotically.
RAQUEL:
What's wrong, baby?
Dennis SCREAMS, pushes away from Raquel, only --
-- Mercury has fangs now too. In fact, everyone in the club does,
with the exception of poor Dennis. That's because they're all
vampires.
Dennis tries to run, but the burly Doorman blocks his exit, brutally
smashing his fist into Dennis' face.
Dennis falls, dazed. The club-goers close in around him. They make a
game of it, shoving him from one person to another, their pale faces
leering like twisted jack-o-lanterns.
The strobe lights quicken to a seizure-inducing intensity. Dennis
spins, tumbling into Raquel's arms. She shoves him forward -- Dennis
lands on the floor, falling at someone's boot-clad feet. He looks up.
A DARK FIGURE sits in the shadows, unnoticed until this moment. The
figure stands, moves into the light as time screeches to a halt --
A BLACK MAN,
towers above Dennis, wearing dark glasses and a leather longcoat -- a
sneer of cruel contempt etched upon a face tempered by a lifetime of
horror. His name is BLADE.
Blade whips open his long coat, shrugging it off, revealing an
arsenal of high-tech weapons strapped to his body:
6-point adjustable body armor, a modified CAR-15 assault rifle with
an ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a "Demon"
automatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style
katar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his
namesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.
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"Blade" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/blade_1088>.
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