The scene sets in inside of a dark, brick room. Three long fluorescent lights flicker as they hang, and sway, from the ceiling. Four men in military uniforms stand near the door, chuckling and smoking cigarettes. One of the men points to the other end of the room and the other three look over. In the corner of the room is a small cell with a oversized man sitting on a large pillow. He is restrained by leather straps and forced to stare at the blank, dirty wall in front of him. Something, hidden by the darkness of the room, covers his face.
“Am I alive? To be honest I don’t know anymore. For years I’ve asked myself why this has been done to me. I’ve wondered why and after all of these years I still do not have an answer. No one can tell me the reasons and I fear that no one really has the desire to do so; not now and maybe not ever. I’m not the monster they say I am…or was. I don’t even remember why or how it happened. They say it was uncontrollable…that something inside of me snapped and that I cannot function like a normal human being. It could be true…but I’ll never know. They won’t let me speak about it. They won’t let me speak at all. My frustration boils.”
He pulls tight on the leather bands that him bind him in his seat, trying desperately to move to one side or the other. He breaths a long sigh of frustration when his efforts fall short. He tries to turn his head toward the four men on the other side of the room but he’s unable to turn that far.
“I’m not a monster. The things I do or the things I have done are not who I really am. They told me something lives deep inside of me; something that turns on like a light when an imaginary switch has been flipped. Who flips the switch? I’d like to ask them but sadly again, I’m not allowed. They offer me a pen and a book of paper to vent my frustrations yet they know I cannot read nor write their language. They laugh at me and believe I cannot sense it. They poke fun at a man who cannot defend himself against them. My frustration boils…”
”He stares at the wall for a bit, trying to find a new crack or hole he hasn’t discovered yet. He gazes up toward the ceiling and sees the sun shining through the small barred window at the top of the wall.
“I wish it was Sunday. I like Sundays. Sunday I get to live if only in a small way. I get to walk outside and let the warm sun drape over my pale, rough skin. I get to graze my hands over the tall wheat fields that I remember from my childhood. I like Sundays. They were better when she used to come. Her bright blue eyes would match the sun-filled sky and she would twinkle when she saw me. Her smell was so sweet it reminded me of peaches on a summer afternoon on the docks. She doesn’t come anymore. They don’t let her see me anymore. Not since they put this thing on me. They ripped her from me like they’ve taken everything else. They shunned her from my life and now I am truly alone. Left alone to sit here and stare at the ones who torment me. Wishing and waiting for the day I can finally leave here. The day I can finally prove the monster doesn’t exist. My frustration boils.
The scene sets on a dark summer night. It focuses in on the near full moon that sits perched high up in the midst of the glowing stars. The light from the moon can be seen hovering over a small Tudor style home as the scene zooms out. Through the windows we can see a middle aged man, half dressed in a tuxedo, dancing joyfully with his wife. They laugh as the dance and twirl what seems to be their living room. His dark hair and beard are a stark contrast to the bright blonde hair and blue eyes of his wife. His large frame nearly encompasses her as they enjoy their time together. We can now hear the swing music playing on the radio and the giggling coming from the young blonde girl in the corner of the room. The young girl, no doubt this woman’s daughter, has matching light blonde hair and ice blue eyes that almost brighten up the dark room by themselves. Next to her sits a young boy in plaid pajamas. If the young girl is incredibly joyful and happy to watch her parents dance, the boy is the near opposite. His eyes despondent, his body language borderline angry, he sits there with a scowl on his face. Before too long his mother notices her son. She stops her dancing to inquire what could be wrong.
Mother: *BLEEP*, are you all right? You seem upset.
The father then turns and sees the look on his son’s face. He too becomes concerned.
Father: *BLEEP*, answer your mother. What is it, son?
The boy continues to sit in silence, now staring at his father in the eyes. The too lock eyes as the boy’s look becomes angrier and angrier. A small snarl comes over his face before his young sister puts her hand on his arm in an effort to calm him down.
Girl: Don’t worry, *BLEEP*. I’m right here. No one is going to hurt you.
The boy turns to his left to catch the eye of his sister. The snarl on his face slowly starts to dissipate and is eventually replaced by a small smirk. After a moment the boy turns to his right and picks up a small wooden train. He begins to play on the carpet as if nothing had ever happened…delighted as can be. His mother and father stare at each other with confused gazes in their eyes as if they have no explanation for what had just occurred. They look back their boy who is now rolling the toy wooden train around the carpet and very softly singing his favorite song.
“Who killed Cock Robin?
I, said the Sparrow,
with my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin.
Who saw him die?
I, said the Fly,
with my little eye,
I saw him die.
Who caught his blood?
I, said the Fish
with my little dish,
I caught his blood
While the cruel Cock Sparrow
The cause of their grief
Was hung on a gibbet
Next day, like a thief”
A look of terror comes over the mother’s face as the camera fades out on the sinister smile etched across the child’s face.
“I believe today is a Wednesday. They always come early on a Wednesday. I can feel their eyes in the back of head, burning a hole in the back of this…thing. How long can they keep me here? I know it is foolish to keep wondering. Wondering how long they can lock me away knowing very well how long I’ve already been here. I used to scratch a mark for each day with my fingernail in the wall near the pillow I call my bed. I stopped years ago when I ran out of space. She still used to come then. Back then I didn’t mind it here so much. It wasn’t always so bad. They used to let me speak. They used to smile and wave at me and make me feel like I was one of them. Sadly, that is not the case anymore. Now I’m just a freak. My frustration boils.”
A fifth man enters the room. He is different than the others. Instead of Army fatigues he’s dressed in a black suit with a purple tie and carrying a black leather briefcase. His eyes are shielded by tinted glasses and a thin, pointed goatee sits on his face just below his nose. He addresses the soldiers with a smile on his face.
“I don’t know that voice. I’ve never heard it before. They don’t normally let new people in here. I can’t see who it is. He smells different though. He doesn’t have that air of dirt and grime around him. Who is he? Why is he here? I wish I could ask him. I wish they would let me speak. Instead I’ll have to wait and see what I could hear. Bits of information at a time, something I am used to by now. Again, it wasn’t always like this. I used to be friends with them. I was their friend…they told me. Wait. He’s coming closer. I wish I could ask him who he is. My frustration boils.”
A solder walks the man over to the cell and slowly and unsurely unlocks the cage door. He warns the well dressed man not to get too close. The man smiles and pats the soldier on the arm before entering the cell. He takes a seat in front of the large man in the leather restraints and smiles at him. He sets his briefcase on his lap and unlocks it.
”Why is he sitting in front of me? No one sits in front of me. They’re too afraid to look at me yet he is not. He says something to me but I don’t understand him. They never let me learn their language. He keeps talking. Does he not know that I can’t understand? Why don’t they tell him? His clothing reminds me of someone I used to know before. His funny beard and his smile are not something I would’ve expected for someone in here. He doesn’t belong here. He’s different than anyone I’ve seen in a long time. He reminds me, in a way, of her. I wish I knew why he was here. Is he here to see me, a visitor for the first time in ages? I need to know. My frustration boils.”
The opens his briefcase and pulls out a small velvet bag. He reaches out and places the small black bag in the hands of the large man. He motions for him to open it, his smile only getting wider. The large man maneuvers his hands together and slowly unwraps the bag. He pulls out the small item tucked away in side of it and loud shutter of a sob is heard immediately from the large man. In his large hands sits a small toy wooden train. The man in the suit puts his hand on the large man’s knee and smiles again.
”How did he get this? How did he know? Who is he?”
The man closes his briefcase and sets it down. His smile fades as he leans forward. He tightens his fist on his free hand in front of the large man and a scowl comes over his face.
Man: Јас сум пријател со вас. Јас сум тука за вас. Вие сте моја одговорност сега. Ќе припаѓаат на мене.
He speaks in the large man’s native Macedonian dialect, shocking not only to the large imprisoned man but also the four guards standing outside of the cell. The prisoner nods to the man in the suit and the man nods back.
Man: Guard!
The guard walks back in.
Guard: Yes sir?
Man: Untie him.
Guard: Sir, I have to warn you again. This man is controllable. He’s unstable and sir…he’s evil. Pure evil.
The man looks up at the guard and smiles with an ear to ear grin. He stands up and hands him his briefcase, seemingly a payment of some kind, and smacks him on the shoulder.
Man: With all due respect, captain. You haven’t met me.
A small look of fear passes over the guard’s face before he reaches down and unlocks the leather restraints from the prisoner’s arms. The large man stands up, towering nearly a foot over the guard and the well dressed man, and walks forward through the open steel barred door. Both men proceed toward the door at the other end of the room and before they leave, one of the guards stops the man in the suit.
Guard: I’m sorry sir but I have to ask. What did you say to him?
The man smirks at the guard before removing his tinted glasses.
Man: I told him he belongs to me now.
The soldier backs off as both men vacate the room. They walk through a small, narrow corridor before pushing through a steel door. Sunlight pours through the dark hallway as the men step outside. The walk outside to a desert with nothing insight except a black Cadillac Escalade and sand as far the eyes can see. The man in the suit walks toward the SUV before noticing that the large prisoner was still standing by the door. The man in the suit smiles again before nodding. Without hesitation the large man turns back around and walks through the door back inside. The man in the suit walks toward his Escalade and leans up against it. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up. He stares out in to the vast desert and all of a sudden he hears screams coming from back inside. He chuckles to himself as he takes a drag of his cigarette.
”Things are different now. I have a friend again. I am alive again. No longer am I prisoner. I am a free man. My new friend has been very kind to me. He has given me a warm bed to sleep in and a food to eat three times a day. I don’t remember how we got here. The last thing I remember was walking out of the prison with my new friend who has given me so much. He has also given me a new name. He told me *BLEEP* did not fit who I am anymore. He told me that now with him I am reborn. A new man unleashed from captors and ready to go out onto the world again. For my freedom he asked only for my assistance and to help him complete his plan. To help him see it through to the end and then, he said, I will be free.”
“He told me the whole plan. He began at the end told it backwards to the beginning, saying it would be easier to understand that way. His primary goals are quite exciting and obtainable and some of the secondary ones seem like fun as well. He still won’t let me speak. He said my mask can only be removed once and he prefers me to leave it on until our business has concluded. A small price to pay it seems for my freedom. When we are done we will part ways and then I can begin the process of finding her again. It won’t be long now until we are together again.”
“The quest begins this Sunday. My first task he says is a blind man. He said not to be fooled by his inadequacies and his impairments. He is a dangerous man, he says. He again referenced this monster that people say lives inside of me. I can’t see myself wanting to hurt someone in anyway, let alone one who could not see me. But if this man’s pain leads to finding her again then it must be done. He must suffer as I have suffered. He must feel the pain that I have felt. I will take everything from him as everything was taken from me. All of them, all of his task’s shall feel the pain that I have known. I need to get her back. My frustration boils…”
