The Inventor sits as if in a trance, oblivious to his wife. Very irritated, the Inventor’s Wife pushes his shoulder.
INVENTOR’S WIFE (CONT’D)
Not another one!
The Inventor “snaps” out of his trance.
I’ve got to put this down on paper right away.
Catapulting out of bed with his tattered, dirty clothes still on from the night before, the Inventor finds his eyeglasses, grabs them with his acid stained hands and heads directly for the bedroom door.
(Yelling after him)
Why don’t you just sleep...sleep in your laboratory. Why do you even bother to come up here?
You sleep your life away, whilst I invent the future of mankind.
The Devil’s work, all hours of the night, all those nightmares you call visions...the Devil’s work I tell you.
Be quiet you fool and go back to sleep. Let me be.
INT. NINETEENTH CENTURY RESIDENCE - LABORATORY - NIGHT
The Inventor walks past shelves filled with hundreds of NOTEBOOKS and sits at a desk bathed in INCANDESCENT LIGHT.
In an already open notebook the obsessed Inventor starts to draw a crude television.
INT. MONROE CONTRELL’S ESTATE - DEN - DAY - PRESENT DAY
Facing us, is an immense modern television with speakers, resembling horns, molded into the top of it. We see on the screen, an inauguration ceremony for a new President of the United States.
TELEVISION ANNOUNCER 1 (V.O.)
You are witnessing live from our nations capital, the Inauguration Ceremonies of the Forty-Third President of the United States of America; Gregory Aaron Darius.
We begin to see the room the immense television is housed in. It is overwhelming. This is certainly the most sophisticated home office in the world.
Standing with his back facing us, is MONROE CONTRELL (45). A man of small stature, dressed in a black satanic robe.
We hear a loud thump from one corner of the room. As Contrell turns his head toward the noise, we see his boyish face. He looks out of place in his crude clothing.
We see the source of the disturbance. It’s a TEENAGE BOY (15), banging his head against the glass cell in which he is enclosed.
Stop that or I’ll hang you up again.
The Teenage Boy looks up and we see that he is a perfect clone of Contrell, right down to the weak chin and baby face. The Teenage Boy freezes, completely horrified.
Contrell turns his head and continues to watch the inauguration ceremony.
Off to the other side of the room, we see eighteen large computer monitors mounted with seamless perfection, into a solid rock wall etched with ancient markings. One marking in particular stands out; A HUMAN SKULL WITH FOUR THIN LINES AND ONE THICK LINE, LIKE A BAR CODE, MARKED ACROSS THE FOREHEAD.
Each of the eighteen monitors spy on people from around the world looking in on their various day to day activities. We see the worst of mankind from the point of view of their television or computer monitor. Some people are viciously fighting with each other while most are engaged in perverse sex with their on-line computers.
TELEVISION ANNOUNCER 1 (V.O.)
Now we go live, to the swearing in of our new President.
Our attention returns to the immense television, hosting the handsome and confident image of the newly elected President of the United States, GREGORY AARON DARIUS(50).
ATTORNEY GENERAL (V.O.)
Do you Gregory Aaron Darius, swear to uphold the Constitution of the United States of America, so help you God?
PRESIDENT DARIUS (V.O.)
(to the immense TV)
One last feeble President to haggle with.
From the speakers on top of the huge TV, we hear a HORRIBLE SCREECHING LANGUAGE, sounding like a FAX TRANSMISSION.
The image of President Darius on the huge screen changes to an image of the late great President Kennedy.
Contrell flexes his skinny forearm, squeezing SOMETHING in his right hand in response to the screeching comments. Contrell’s scrawny frame is dwarfed by the colossal image of President Kennedy.
Contrell turns around and marches straight towards us. His eyes flare with anger.
We follow him as he walks across the room, passing a WOMAN ON A CROSS (35), dressed in a badly shredded Nun’s uniform.
Barely conscious FROM HER LASHING, the Woman On The Cross dangles from wrist ties, facing the wooden crucifix.
WOMAN ON CROSS
(moaning, barely audible)
Forgive me...please forgive me.....
Contrell walks over to a wall that automatically opens to reveal an elevator that he disappears into.
INT. MONROE CONTRELL’S ESTATE - ELEVATOR - DAY
We travel with Contrell as he descends into the depths of our planet’s crust. Smoothly, the high speed elevator comes to a stop, the doors slide open and Contrell steps out into the darkness.
INT. MONROE CONTRELL’S ESTATE - BASEMENT CAVERN - DAY
The large cavern is cold and damp. Dimly lit torches hanging on the walls, cast shadows on the rats and bugs that scurry around this hell hole.
A large caldron, full of boiling water, sits over a fire. Whips, rods, sticks and various other devices of torture lie on an old table.
TORTURED PEOPLE of all ages hang from the walls, chained at their wrists. Some are chained to the floor, passed out. Some moan, some cry.
All of the Tortured People that are conscious scream and plead immediately upon Contrell’s entrance.
Contrell grabs a whip and storms over to a CHILD (8). The Child is almost bald with burn blisters covering his face and body.
The Child looks up at Contrell, pleading with his eyes.
Why won’t you just kill me?
So you can go to heaven? Where’s the fun in that?
Contrell brings the whip down hard on the screaming Child.
EXT. DESERT - DAY
A sign attached to a chain link fence reads “Restricted Area, Do Not Enter”.
An aged military facility lies in the distance.
EXT. AGED MILITARY FACILITY - DAY
An observation tower dominates over a half dozen, large warehouses.
In the field, a steel shipping container is surrounded by military guards, standing with weapons drawn.
INT. OBSERVATION TOWER - CONTROL ROOM - DAY
DEREK HELNWEIN (70), Director of the National Security Agency, stands over an advanced control panel.
Hardened by years of military experience, Helnwein never shows emotion.
Helnwein looks over CAPTAIN BATES’(30) shoulder, who is seated at a computer terminal.
Bates, are we operational yet?
Let them out.
INT. STEEL SHIPPING CONTAINER - DAY
The inside of the container is black and hot. We HEAR PANTING, like dogs locked in a hot car. The sound of an electric motor starts abruptly and a sliver of sunlight cuts into our eyes.
The door slides open to reveal TWO DOCTORS (50’s), wearing HOSPITAL ATTIRE. Both are bruised and bloody.
Looking at each other with terror in their eyes, the Two Doctors step out of the container.