HorrorSpeak---Terror Awaits You in Every Forum!!!!: Looking for some Critique.

Hey guys, I've been a poster here for about 7 years now, lurker more often than not, but I've been working on a new screenplay, and I know a lot of people here are very creative, and artistic, and share the same tastes as I. So I wanted to post a few pages of my screenplay on here, and get some comments, and criticism.

I also am very unfamiliar, with how one goes about sending out screenplay's and the sort, and would appreciate some help, on all of that, but for now, I'll just write. But I'm very excited about this screenplay, and would really like to share it with people, who's opinions I would trust.

so here it is...the first little bit of my script.

“The Silent Vision of Romance”

Written By: Sean Brown

01/29/2008 -

FADE IN:

EXTERIOR - MAFIA COVER BAR - NIGHT - EST.

A heavy rain falls from the deep night sky. Trickling down the inner city structures, and pooling up in the streets below. We descend into a dark damp alley, the rain muffled within, replaced by the obnoxious rat-a-tat of rain drops hitting an A/C window unit. We stare out from between these brick walls, past the shaking trash can’s, and past the occasional cloaked stranger rushing past, with umbrella’s well above their head.
A car whizzes by, splashing water up onto the sidewalk, and causing some to trickle down onto the steps of the greenish corridor below. Paper Waste, and black bubblegum, mixed with mildewed tiles, and a concrete floor. A sick, disturbing greenish fluorescent light adores the entire length, accented by the neon hum, and constant bulb rattle. At the end of this hallway a steel access door sits generally out of place.
However, this door is the focal point for the shadow figure’s stare. Back in the dark damp alley across the way, he leans against the bricks, eyes glued to his apparent destination.

CUT TO:

INTERIOR - MAFIA COVER BAR - NIGHT - EST.

Pairs of red eyes seem to stare from the rows of bottles and large mirror behind the bar, reflecting off of the blood red light bulb dangling from a crooked ceiling fan. The Rest of the bar is either empty or possessed by dust and shadows, a couple of empty chairs, and tossed around tables.
Behind the bar sit’s a broken, dust covered register, and a calendar hanging crooked from the wall, with the date October 31st marked. The bar itself shows signs of better days, with scuffs and scrapes, and dust, along with bar nuts spilt across it’s surface like grubs. One man sits toward the center of the bar; Otis Day, this man’s name is Otis Day. And he looks about as presentable as the bar he has since become a permanent resident of.
Small glass of whiskey in hand, Otis stares forward lifeless, with a sad face hanging in oblivion. With long pubic white facial hair, and a head of grey hair befitting of any universal monster Otis looks like he’s seen many “days”. He would appear to be a cross between an old west, hippie, bondage, freak. He coughs out the burn of that whiskey, and let’s his un-cleaned, over grown fingernails rap across the glass.
Also present across the room is Donnie, Donnie the door man. Sitting in a chair by the door that would look more appropriate in your grandmother’s living room, He nods off by the candle light of his little side table. Bending forward at the neck, his bald head starting to nod downward.
Suddenly, and silently something creeps behind the bar at ground level, slithering into position below Otis. Then the small figure jumps up from behind the bar, with a pale white vampire-like face hidden beneath a hood.

MARC:
Boo, Mother Fuckers!

Otis tenses up, his hands shaking, causing some ice, and liquor to spill to the left and right of his glass. A gasp escaping his old throat! His left hand even reaching down to the ole six shooter he still wears around his waist, ready to draw, fire, and kill without further notice. Donnie erect yet still sitting, with an Uzi pulled off the table, and into his grip, knocking over a few keys and coinage as well.

DONNIE:
God damn it, Mar-

Marc, hopping up and over the bar, and landing next to Otis, cuts Donnie off:

MARC:
I’m out on the roll tonight-

He swaggers, with a coked up, cocky waltz towards Donnie and the door, still wearing the hood and the mask.

MARK:
You two have a wonderful feckin’ night!

Donnie stands up, setting his piece back down on the table, he stares with a grin at Marc, as he extends his arm to grab, unlock, and open the door.

DONNIE:
One More time Marc-Y, I’m telling you, you going to be explaining to your dad where your teeth went.

Marc reaches into his pockets pulling out a pack of cigarette’s, and a lighter. He then slides the mask up on top of his head and looks at Donnie. Pulling a cigarette out of the pack, and sliding it between his lips he spits his words out:

MARC:
Hey, you know me man, fucking do it! In all seriousness though, fuck off huh? Later man.

DONNIE:
Yea, Yea-

He slides the steel access door shut as Marc exit’s the bar, and locks it back up.

DONNIE:
You fucking asshole.

CUT TO:

EXTERIOR - MAFIA COVER BAR - NIGHT
Once outside the bar, Marc walks down the corridor a little ways, stopping around the middle. He fumbles with his lighter, trying to light his cigarette. Meanwhile the figure in the alley, stands at attention, pushing his shoulder off of the wall. He begins to cross the street, heavy, heavy rain now bouncing off his trench coat, and brimmed hat. Marc having now lit his cigarette lowers the mask, and slides the butt between the lips of the mask, taking a drag.
His focus is down towards the ground as he steps up the few steps leading up to the street, and runs headlong into the shadowy figure, who then Pushes him back into the depths of the hallway.

CUT TO:

INTERIOR - MAFIA COVER BAR - NIGHT

Three bangs ring out into the bar, off of the metal access door, Donnie now reading the paper folds it down and gets to his feet sliding open the viewing slot.

DONNIE:
Fuck!-

Donnie is greeted with an up close and personal stare from the vampire mask, leaning into the door. Freaky eyes staring up at him.

DONNIE:
That’s it, I told-

As Donnie begins to bitch at who he believes is Marc, he unlocks, and starts pulling open the metal access door. Suddenly the figure outside thrusts a switchblade through the view hole piercing straight through Donnie’s throat, all the way to the handle of the blade. The figure then shoves his body weight into the door, gaining access, he reaches his hands around gripping the door man to where he won’t fall.
Donnie gasps for air, flailing his arms, and reaching for his throat, they begin to fumble through some of the chairs, and tables, finally slamming up against the wall. The figure covers Donnie’s blood splattered mouth, to muffle any of the more violent sounds. A crimson waterfall rushing down the front of his body and onto the floor below, the men fall into each other against the wall. The shadowy figure starting to rise, as Donnie’s body finally begins to sag and slump.
As Donnie’s body comes to a rest on the floor, surrounded by the blood that just poured from his veins, the figure tosses off the vampire mask, revealing the face of hit man: Jacob Edenborn. He turns to look at Otis still sitting oblivious at the bar, sipping away at his drink.
Jacob starts walking toward Otis, being mindful of his step as he moves outside the pool of blood. Walking past the door, it cracks open enough to show a gutted Marc, sat up against the wall. Sprays of blood cover the already dirty tiles, and his intestines hang over his legs, piling into the trashy floor below. Color already absent from his face, cigarette still dangling from his lips.

OTIS:
Kick hiss ass D!

Otis mumbles, thinking that Marc, and Donnie have been wrestling around the past few moments. Jacob slowly starts walking toward him, wiping blood from the switchblade he pulled out of Donnie’s throat. Otis stares blank, low, and ahead, an unfazed look on his face, behind him Jacob creeps ever closer, something Otis could plainly see if he looked forward into the Bar’s mirror. Jacob stops just a few feet behind Otis, as Otis glances back half assed like;

OTIS:
What’re you two doing?

He mumbles, and leans forward reaching behind the bar for a bottle of whiskey. He pulls the bottle up on top of the bar, and pulls the cap off. Glancing at the bottle, he scoots his glass aside and takes a giant, long swig straight from the bottle itself, tilting his head back. Jacob Edenborn stands right behind Otis, staring down at him as he drinks from the bottle. Otis’ eyes widen as he feels the drink he started to swallow spill from his slit throat and onto the bar, with a thick brownish red splash.
The contents of the bottle, as well as his veins continues to pour out onto the bar, capped off by his sickly gurgling soft struggle. Jacob holds him by the hair, pushing Otis’ head forward as the life in him fades, resting his head on the gore covered bar, and wiping his blade, and hands on Otis’ jacket. Jacob then turns his attention to a dark hallway, to the right of the bar.

CUT TO:

INTERIOR - MAFIA COVER BAR - BACK ROOM - EST.

Three fat, greasy, old Italian gangster types sit around a table playing poker. Cigar smoke filling the air, as they drink their jack & coke’s. They jibber jabber, and toss their cards around, laughing, and coughing.
Jacob slides into the room unnoticed, pressing his back against a far wall opposite the poker playing gangsters. He slides his hand into the trench coat pulling out a pistol with one hand, and a silencer with the other. Jacob screws the silencer onto the pistol, and then lowers it, opting to reach back into his clothing, and pull out a cigarette, and lighter of his own. He slides the cigarette between his lips, lighting it and taking a hard drag.
Flipping his lighter shut, and dropping it into his pocket, Jacob dives into view raising his silenced pistol towards the gangsters. As they start to react reaching for their own holstered guns, a bullet rips through the forehead of one of the men, sending him back into his chair, and then to the floor. The two men still standing, stand on either side of the table, drawing their guns.
Two bullets rip through the upper chest of one fat gangster, he stumbles backwards, gun in hand, but in no capacity to return fire, he trips over his chair, and slams hard to the ground. The third and final man pulls his gun up, glancing towards his two downed partners, ready to fire, a single shot rips through his gut, causing him to flinch in pain. A second shot busts through his upper left chest, and a final shredding through his neck, and causing arterial spray to splatter across the poker table, money, chips, and cards.
Finally his body drops with a hard thud to the ground, Jacob lowers his smoking barrel, and stares at the carnage ahead of him. Three dead, bloody messes sprawled underneath a table, a few dollars, and cards float down toward their bodies gracefully. And a spilled drink rains down off the edge of the table. Jacob releases the smoke he’s been holding in for those few seconds of action, And then turns to walk out of the building.

FADE TO BLACK:

CUT TO:

INTERIOR - KINGPIN’S ROOM - NIGHT - EST.

The kingpin sits in his chair, dressed in a fairly nice suit, with the jacket removed and laid across the back of his chair. Sleeves rolled up just below the elbows, and the top few buttons opened revealing his sweaty, fat, hairy chest. He smokes a large cigar, filling the room with thick smoke, ashes dropping off of it onto the desk below. A line of sweat drops from his face, as he folds his arms, and stares at Jacob.
Jacob stands in front of the kingpin’s desk, dressed in all black, trench coat waving slightly, as he re-positions his left foot. A gas mask shields his face from our view.
The room they stand in looks like a pawn broker’s office from the seventies. The parts of it that haven’t yet vanished in the thick cigar smoke. And the stained, bog like brown carpet.
The kingpin reaches into the top left drawer of his desk, and pulls out a thick yellow envelope. He exhales and tosses it onto the desk. Jacob reaches down and lifts it up, opening it to reveal a large brick of hundred dollar bills.

JACOB:
Thanks.
The kingpin doesn’t respond, he simply starts to go back to his business shuffling some scattered papers on the desk. Jacob stuffs the envelope of cash down into his deep trench coat pockets, turning as he does so to face the door.
Jacob then reaches up and pulls the gas mask off and over his head, causing his chin length black hair to fall downward towards his face. Tossing the gas mask aside he pulls the door open stepping out along with a rush of the thick cigar smoke, into the next room, shutting the letting the door swing shut behind him.

EXTERIOR - JACOB’S RESIDENCE - NIGHT - EST.

The blind woman’s cane scraped, and tapped along the rain soaked sidewalk below, as she moved past the rows of skinny gothic houses. Each house sporting a row of steps leading up to the front door. It’s clear from the way trash, and mail boxes are positioned outside that more than one residence is placed within each building.
She stops in front of one of the staircases, and opens the mailbox, pulling out a few envelopes. She then pulls her cane up, and carefully starts to walk up the steps toward the door.
Suddenly a male voice calls from the sidewalk below:

VOICE #1:
Rosemary..?

Rosemary, the blind woman turns toward the voice, calling out a response:

ROSEMARY:
Jacob?

Suddenly two men descend from her building, one of the men grabbing her arms, and body pulling her violently into his grasp, and toward the door. Rosemary begins to struggle, and scream, but the man covers her mouth, and pulls her into the building. As the men, and Rosemary vanish a third man calmly walks up the steps and enters the building followed by a huge strong fellow, carrying a tripod, camera, and a few other supplies.
Followed by him are a pair of younger, men who walk up directly behind them as well, finally followed by a fat older “watch-dog” type of guy, in sweats. He stops right by the door, turns and stares dead ahead keeping an eye out on everything.

CUT TO:

INTERIOR - JACOB’S RESIDENCE - CONNECTOR HALL

The house Jacob lives in is an old rental home, with two apartments, and a large hallway connecting the two. The hallway is very plain with just a front door, the two apartment door’s on either side, as well as a back/maintenance door.

CUT TO:

INTERIOR - JACOB’S RESIDENCE - APARTMENT

The man who was standing with the one who grabbed Rosemary kicks her apartment door wide open splintering the area around the locks. The man holding her then picks her off the ground carrying her flailing, screaming body into the room.
Their apartment, is more or less one big open space, with a lot of scattered living room objects, and a bed near the center of things. There is a bathroom connected to this room, across from the entrance, and far right of the bed; across from the bed a television set rests in a low entertainment center, and behind all this rests a small hallway to some sort of backroom, and a small kitchen.

LUST:
Shut the fuck up, bitch!

LUST says as he tosses Rosemary hard onto the bed, all the other men are now present in the room, six men total. PRIDE hangs back near the entrance, watching WRATH as he starts to set up the video camera, and tripod near, and facing the bed. WRATH also begins to run cables to their television set.
The younger smaller male known as ENVY begins to tear the place apart, searching through dressers, and boxes, and just trashing what ever else he happens to notice in the apartment. LUST, and GREED having now tossed Rosemary onto the bed begin struggling with her, trying to keep her down, and they begin to do a good job of it. VANITY after making sure the door is shut, heads over to the bed to aid LUST, and GREED with Rosemary.

VANITY:
Let’s see what we got going on over here.

As LUST, and GREED begin to hold her hands down, VANITY reaches down for her legs, and starts pulling on her skirt.

ROSEMARY:
No!

Rosemary swings a wild fist, with nails and catches VANITY in the side of the head, just to the right of his left eye.

VANITY:
OUCH! You fucking bitch!

He swings a hard fist into her jaw, and follows it up with a swift backhand, knocking her dazed and calm for a brief second, before he reaches up to his scratched, red face. Stumbling backwards he curses aloud.

LUST:
Get out of here!

LUST pushes VANITY aside, and positions himself between Rosemary, and finishes pulling off her skirt, and tearing at her top.

PRIDE:
Stop.

PRIDE calls out, as he steps toward the bed, watching on with a blank look. LUST steps off the bed and moves aside for PRIDE as he steps even closer toward Rosemary, reaching down and grabbing her face he lifts her blind eyes to his, staring deep into their grayish color.

PRIDE:
Left in the dark all your life. Quite literally, let’s keep it that way, I don’t want this to get any worse for you, too soon that is.

ROSEMARY:
Please, stop, why.

Rosemary struggles to spit out any form of audible words, just saying one’s that might help her in any way, shape, or form.
LUST then proceeds to reach down onto her, licking around his lips, and tugging hard at her panties, as he climbs on top of her. She begins to fight wildly, screaming, but he covers her mouth. Now muffled she beats on him with clenched fists, but ENVY, and GREED quickly step in and hold her down. Even with her mouth covered, she let’s out a pierced audible cry as she is penetrated.
PRIDE stares into the camera ahead of him. WRATH operates it, facing the bed in which the rape is occurring, and also filming PRIDE.

PRIDE:
You might not know me, immediately. Jake. But you will soon enough mother fucker!

Rosemary continues to struggle against the rape in the background, as PRIDE speaks.

PRIDE:
A blind wife, clever I must say, but maybe clever isn’t the word I should use, how about sick? Marry a blind woman for that fine pussy man, Hey I’ll admit for a blind woman that’s some mother fucking tail. But onto the big selling point son; She can’t see you for who you truly fucking are. When you come home to this normal life, little existence, do you forget about the things you do? The men you kill? A man you killed, that carried the name of Merrick. I too share that name.

As he speaks, GREED begins to get ready to rape Rosemary as well, unbuckling his belt and getting his cock ready to pull out. LUST pulls up, and off of Rosemary, her weak body tense, and still struggling as much as she can.
She winces in agony, and pain as GREED sets up and continues the vicious assault. Tears also rolling from her eyes as she hears what PRIDE says about her husband’s secret lifestyle.

PRIDE:
That man was very important to me, and you took that away. After tonight, you can consider us even.

As PRIDE speaks the words “You can consider us even.“ we begin to pull backwards, revealing the present time JACOB’S RESIDENCE. Torn to bits, with trash, and debris scattered everywhere. And a stunned, motionless Jacob Edenborn standing just feet within the door staring at the television set as it plays the tape of his wife’s rape. Her half naked, bloody body remains sprawled across the bed, just out of the corner of Jacob’s eye. The scene of the crime still relatively fresh, and unsettled. The tripod and camera still in their position, cables hooked up to the television for the playback. He watches on:
PRIDE looks over his shoulder towards Rosemary and his men, as they continue to rape her.
He steps aside, as GREED continues to rape her, and let’s the camera focus on the action. GREED stops, and steps aside, zipping up, as VANITY hops onto the bed, turning Rosemary onto her stomach, and getting behind her, lifting her up and continuing the vicious assault.
This goes on for several moments, as she squirms and struggles, her blind eyes staring off into unknown distances of her dark vision. ENVY at one moment walking up, and rubbing his fingers down on her nether regions, and lifting his fingers to his lips, and nose and sniffing. She continually is beaten, as well, snuffing out her will to fight.

PRIDE:
Enough!

He calls out to the men, causing them to halt the rape, leaving Rosemary sprawled on the bed, sniffling, she has since stopped struggling as much due to many severe punches, and “shut-up’s”.
PRIDE pulls an old fashioned razor from his pocket, flipping it open and gripping it tight, pointing the sharp blade towards the camera. He then gets onto the bed lifting Rosemary upward onto her knees. PRIDE positions himself behind her, tugging at her hair, and pulling her close to him, resting the back of her head near his right shoulder. Rosemary sobs, and begs a little for her life, but the men just tease, and laugh.
PRIDE stares up into the camera, as some of the men watch on, and others continue to ransack the apartment, for anything of value.

PRIDE:
You hurt her Jacob. Took advantage of her.

PRIDE licks on her neck a bit, and begins to tease his razorblade against her bare chest, her shirt having been ripped open during the assault revealing her chest area. She breathes anxious and heavy, and still manages to plea with him. Then suddenly PRIDE slices the blade deep, and hard across her bare chest, above the breasts, but below the neck, causing severe lacerations.
Rosemary screams in a new type of pain, one more physical, than the mental torment of rape. She begins to forcer herself to struggle now, feeling despair, and fear for her life.
PRIDE then cuts her dangerously close to the neck, and throws her face first down into the bed. She lays there in agony, trying to comfort her sliced up body. She doesn’t bother looking up at the men. Blood pools up in the sheets, and begins to pool up around the bed, as PRIDE points the bloody razor toward the camera, and rise to his feet, clothes now bloodies by Rosemary.

PRIDE:
An eye for an eye Jacob. Life for a life. I’ll leave this here for you, if the pain is to severe, if the sight of your dead wife is too much.

PRIDE tosses the bloody razor down onto the ground. He then reaches into his suit jacket, and upholsters a pistol from his waist.

PRIDE:
There’s nothing more I’d like to do than snuff you out. But then, I would have went through all this trouble for nothing don’t you think. Wouldn’t you rather feel this?

He then quickly turns, and fires a shot into the back of Rosemary’s head, killing her. LUST and GREED, as well as VANITY now stand within the view of the camera, laughing, and mocking Jacob.
PRIDE just stands there motionless, staring deep and hard into the camera, as if he were trying to peer into the future and see Jacob standing there watching this tape he made for him. Holstering his gun before he speaks again:

PRIDE:
I already talked to that fuck, Kingston. With my fucking gun, welcome to exile mother fucker.

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