Authors: Cassandra Gannon
“That’s
very generous of you.”
“I
know.” Slade agreed.
She
shook her head. “You really should join a theater company when they release
you from the hospital, because you’re great at improv.”
Slade
had no idea what improv was, but he was confident Jane Squire was right about
his skill. There had never been anything he wasn’t “great” at. He gave a
gracious nod, accepting the compliment.
Jane
Squire focused on opening boxes of fruit and Slade focused on her.
“Do
you have a mate?” He asked, once again noticing the woman’s toffee colored
locks. They were drawn back in a ponytail with spiraled tendrils looping to
her shoulders. Supernatural beings didn’t have curls, so the feature was
always appealing and exotic. Many creatures coveted humans for their hair,
desperate to possess females with such blessings. Looking at Jane Squire, he
understood why.
“You
mean am I married? No.” Gray eyes watched him suspiciously. “Why do you
ask? Because, I don’t date actors… or Vampires.”
“I
am not asking to date you.” Slade scoffed. “Kings don’t court peasants.”
She
snorted sardonically. “Tell that to Prince Charming.”
Slade
disregarded that odd statement. He had met no royalty in this world, so he
wasn’t certain who this “Charming” man was. Surely, no one important. He kept
his attention on Jane Squire. “If you worked at it --perhaps buying suitable
dresses, and wearing lipstick, and getting rid of those gods-awful glasses-- I
think you could find a tolerable stable boy or bell-ringer to claim you. Then
you could leave this life of drudgery. You’re a plain girl, but you’re not as
unattractive as you first seem.”
“Thanks.
That’s very encouraging.”
“You’re
welcome.” Slade was pleased that he could help. He began selecting some
apples and dropping them into a brown paper bag. “I am an expert on this
subject of physical perfection, you know. I was voted the handsomest Vampire
in the world every year for the last millennium.”
“Really?”
She sounded surprised.
Wait…
why did she sound surprised?
“Yes,
really
.” He snapped, affronted by her apparent shock over what should
be obvious to all. “It was barely even a contest.”
She
gave a noncommittal nod and sorted through a large carton of bananas, piling
them on a display.
Slade
scowled. “You think another male should have won?” He interpreted. The woman
was out of her mind to claim such a thing. It was nearly laughable.
Nearly.
“Who
could even compare to me?” He demanded.
“Well,
I’ve never met another Vampire. If you say you’re the best looking one, I
guess I have to believe it.”
He
wasn’t appeased. “You
should
believe it. If we were back on the
Vampire Isle, you’d see for yourself.” He brooded for a beat. “Not that I
ever wish to ever see the Vampire Isle, again. Let them all rot with their
usurping Werewolf king. I will find another land for myself.”
“Good
idea. In fact, you should probably get started on that, right now.”
“Get
started?” He repeated blankly.
“Yeah.
Go out there and conquer yourself a new kingdom, Slade. Don’t let anything
keep you from your destiny. …Which is
out
of my store.”
Slade
blinked, amazed by the perception of her words. The woman toiled in this life
of squalor, yet she alone understood his grand purpose. He saw now why fate
had brought him to this supermarket and placed this nondescript creature before
him. No doubt this was why Jane Squire had been born in the first place. So
she could be here to guide Slade, King of the Vampires, to his glorious future.
This
was the moment where he made the leap from mere king to
legend.
It
was about time.
Deep
inside, he’d begun to question everything he’d always believed. Doubts plagued
him. Telling him that he was unworthy. Destined to fail. Stupid and weak.
Now he realized that his recent misfortunes were all part of a larger design,
leading him to a better path. Talking to the human, Slade suddenly saw the
truth.
The
Vampire Isle had been too small. Too safe. Of
course
, the gods would
have bigger plans for a man such as himself. Slade was made to take risks and
inspire timeless tales. Why had he not thought of that before? This was his
opportunity to prove he was worthy.
This
was his only chance.
“You
are right, Jane Squire.” He whispered, filled with a renewed sense of
purpose. “I must find a new kingdom to rule.”
“Great.
Good luck with that. And thanks for shopping at Iversons.”
INT. ROLAND’S BLACKSMITH SHOP- NIGHT
ROLAND,
the hero of our story, manfully does blacksmith stuff by torchlight. He’s
shirtless and looking yummy. His dark hair is sweaty, but in a sexy way. His
dark eyes are soulful and dreaming of bigger things. Above all, he’s got a
smoking hot body. The subtext should tell audience that this kid is way too
handsome to be poor. He should be played by someone in his thirties, who’s
portraying someone twenty-two, who’s behaving like he’s sixteen.
ROLAND
(In a Scorsese-like
voiceover)
As far
back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a king. I was born a lowly
blacksmith, but I somehow sensed that I was destined for immortal royalty. At first,
I thought I’d achieve it with my music. I had a really awesome band going,
with these other two guys and an Orc named James. (Actually, James was kind of
a dick, but whatever.) We were called “Roland and the Infinites.” Or maybe “The
Blacksmyths.” We hadn’t completely decided on a name. But --I’m serious,
man-- we coulda been huge.
Anyhow,
then I learned that killing the Werewolf was my sacred calling or some shit, so
I said, “Sure, dude, sign me up.” I was all about the questing. It’s just the
kind of hero I am.
But, why
take the risk, you ask? Why challenge Fang when I was already so close to rock
super-stardom?
Well, wait
until you check out the killer rack on the princess I get to bang, bitches!
Film Script- “From Here to Infinia”
“Where
the hell have you been?” Damien, last of the male Wizard-Warlocks, was waiting
to pounce as soon as Slade entered the apartment. “I told you not to wander
off, didn’t I? This Chicago isn’t like the old one. You don’t understand how
things work in this world.”
“I
am not a child.” Slade retorted. “I am stifled in this box and the night
beckoned me. I sought refuge in it, as any Vampire would.”
Damien
scowled, his black eyes missing nothing. “You were watching those damn Humane
Society commercials again, weren’t you?” He guessed.
Slade
didn’t want to dwell on the poor kittens. “Your sister recommended that I go
to the grocery store to clear my head.” He informed Damien, striding towards
the kitchen with the brown paper sack. “We were out of taco supplies and
apples.”
“What
do you care? All you eat is holy water and blood.”
“I
was being helpful and gathering them for
you
.” Slade shot back. The
sorcerer was endlessly frustrating. No wonder so many people had tried to kill
him. “I am a perfect, selfless, and thoughtful houseguest. How many times
have I told you this?”
“About
as many times as
I’ve
pointed out that houseguests are usually
invited
.
You’re more like a squatter.” Damien scanned the small bag in Slade’s hands.
“So where is the taco stuff?”
“I
forgot it.” Slade waved aside such petty concerns. “I was distracted by a
vision of my future.” He smiled. “Amalie was right. My brief sojourn to the
supermarket has opened my eyes to my greater destiny.”
“Let’s
hope it involves you moving into a hotel.” Damien stomped after him. “And why
the hell would you listen to my sister? You
know
Amalie’s always up to
something. If she sent you to the store, she probably has some spell up her
sleeve.”
Damien’s
younger sister was a Witch. She was forever plotting some new trick, but Slade
found her to be a sweet girl. Amalie always had negative things to say about Werewolves,
which was a definite mark in her favor.
“Your
sister simply made the suggestion.” He defended gallantly. “She asked me to
fetch tacos for dinner and some apples for her new project. Which I’ve done. …Except
for the taco part.”
“Close
enough, Slade. Thanks.” Amalie skipped into the kitchen, her black hair
twisted into two braids. Her bright green shirt read, “Still Kissing Frogs.”
She snagged one of the blood red apples from him and took a large bite. “These
are about to come in
super
handy.”
“I
don’t even want to know
how
. I’ll just pretend that you’re baking a
pie.” Damien checked his watch and swore. “Hang on.” He pulled out his small
phone box to send a “text.”
Damien
had been in this world for months and had picked up on many human habits. Much
to Slade’s consternation, the sorcerer seamlessly blended into the twenty-first
century. Working as a doctor… Expecting a child with his loving mate… Rarely
blasting anyone into goo with his powers, anymore… Damien was right where he
belonged.
Slade
wasn’t.
He
doubted he would ever get used to the baffling technology and the staggering
lack of magicks here. His Vampire abilities weren’t welcomed, yet he had no
human skills to attain suitable employment, either. Each day he searched the
want ads, but no positions were available for “Beloved Monarch of a Mystical
Land.” What else was he qualified for?
Even
if he could find a worthy role in this world, he wouldn’t want to stay. He
disliked the noises of this future Chicago. Everything was so loud and
mechanized. “Cars” were especially annoying. They spewed smoke and honked
their horns at him. Where did all the horses go?
And
why did no one speak to each other? Aside from Jane Squire, the humans here went
out of their way to avoid conversing. Who wouldn’t want to talk to Slade? He
was majestic and fascinating and kind to all! Instead, these humans scurried
from place to place, shunning contact that wasn’t conducted over a computerized
screen. Back home, all the supernatural beings knew Slade. They waved as he
passed in the street or gratefully welcomed him when he joined them for some rousing
war. He was used to being surrounded by his people.
Now
he was the only Vampire in the world.
It
was lonely.
“Wonderful.”
Damien muttered at his phone box. “Because of you, I’m going to be late
meeting Kara Lynn at Lamaze.”
“Why
do pregnant humans need classes on how to breathe?” Slade would never
understand that, but much of this place was a mystery. “And why is your scheduling
mistake my fault?”
“Because,
you’re the
reason
I’m late, dumbass. I was out looking for you.
Again
.”
Damien shoved the small contraption into the pocket of his black suit. “I just
hope you didn’t tell anyone you were a Vampire this time. There are only so
many clean psych evaluations I can fake for you.”
Slade
was silent.
Damien’s
eyes narrowed. “You told someone, didn’t you? Damn it! I’m suddenly
remembering why I spent several centuries trying to behead you, Slade.”
“Well,
I
am
a Vampire. Did you wish me to lie?”
“Yes,
I wished you to lie! I’ve explained fifty times, they don’t
have
supernatural
beings here. Not unless they’ve hitchhiked in from another world. The humans
think you’re insane when you tell them the truth!”
Slade
shook his head. Damien, like most sorcerers, had been born slightly evil. Slade
forgave him for his weaknesses. Not all creatures could suppress their Dark Instincts
and rise to the level of Vampiric enlightenment. Still, Slade had to abide by
his own superior moral code.
“I
must be forever who I am, Damien.”
“I
swear to gods, if I could come up with a plausible story to explain your
disappearance to Kara Lynn, I’d just leave you on a street corner.” Damien
snapped. “Since I’m stuck with you, though, the least you can do is not get
the Men in Black after us.”
Slade
had no idea who the Men in Black were. Not that it mattered, since he
did
know Karalynn Donnelly. Damien’s mate was the undisputed ruler of their
household. She was the one who’d invited Slade to stay when he’d shown up on
their doorstep the month before. Damien would never gainsay his treasured mate
and Karalynn adored Slade. All women adored him.
Except
Melessa.
Slade
found himself thinking of Jane Squire’s earlier question. No, he’d never loved
Melessa and she’d never loved him. How strange that fate had made them
Eternal-Ones, then. Had it been some kind of punishment? Why would anyone seek
to punish Slade? He was flawless.