Shannon (kungfuwaynewho) wrote,
Shannon
kungfuwaynewho

NaScreeWriMo - Day Five

Wrote like a boss today.

INT. CASTLE - DINING HALL - NIGHT

Mira enters, hiding her nerves as best she can. Hair clean and simply plaited, she wears an exquisite DRESS - expensive fabric, jewels sewn into the skirt. She is stunning - she looks as though she were born to be a queen.

The men at the table stand - Janos, Miklos, and Bathory, who has a gleam in his eye. Mira only looks at Miklos.

MIRA
What are you doing here?

MIKLOS
I had hoped to have dinner
with my daughter.

MIRA
And we had to journey clear up to the
castle to do that? Five years
we live no more than a
mile from each other, and you never
come to visit me.

BATHORY
Please, sit down, Mira.

MIRA
Kiraly Mira. My husband is
Kiraly Samuel.
(beat)
My Lord.
 
The Count just smiles, very gracious.
BATHORY
Kiraly Mira, please, sit down.
 
She sits, at the other end of the table from Bathory. She does not shy away from his steady gaze.

MIKLOS
It is good to see you in something
so becoming, dear.
 
Mira ignores him, instead glancing at Father Janos, who stares stonily at the table in front of him.

Four servers enter bearing SILVER COVERED DISHES. Dark, downcast eyes - the same affect as the maid. They place the dishes in front of those seated, remove the covers, and melt away.

Mira looks down at a plate of succulent, thinly sliced meat, roast vegetables, a delicate sauce. Mouthwatering. She swallows hard.

Mira clasps her hands, bows her head to pray, only to see Janos start shoveling the food into his mouth.

So she takes a bite, chews slowly. Savors it - bliss.

BATHORY
It is good?
 
Mira nods, a slight, polite smile. Another bite, careful not to eat too quickly.

Watching the three men watch her. They all take a drink at the same time - RED WINE. Mira glances to her right - wine of her own. She sips the water at her left.

BATHORY (CONT’D)
You do not eat this well at home.

MIRA
To eat more simply is not to
eat more poorly, my Lord.

BATHORY
Will you not try the wine? The grapes
are grown on the side of this very mountain.
 
Mira would rather not, but she takes a tiny sip. The liquid seems a bit too thick.

Miklos smiles at her, blood from the meat dripping down his chin.

MIKLOS
I have been telling the Count how smart you are.
(to Bathory)
She even knows how to read.

BATHORY
An impressive feat for a woman.
 
Mira puts a hand to her chest. A shaky breath.

JANOS
Is everything all right, my child?

MIRA
It is very warm.
 
She looks around. The candle sconce on the wall catches her eye. The FLAMES are TOO TALL.

BATHORY
Aren’t you wondering why I’ve asked
you here tonight?

MIRA
It is not my place to question my Lord.
 
Mira can’t stop looking at the candles. Her eyes start to glaze over. Bathory laughs - he seems so warm, so charming.

BATHORY
I saw that you have a child. A son?

MIRA
Dominik, my Lord.

BATHORY
He is healthy?

MIRA
Yes, my Lord. He is a big, strong boy.
 
The too-tall flames are so very bright. She stares and stares.

BATHORY
My wife has been unable to give
me a son.

MIRA
I am sorry, my Lord.
 
Janos takes a drink of his wine. He CLANKS his glass against his plate. Mira BLINKS, eyes back to the table.

Does Bathory turn a dark eye the priest’s way? But no, he is still smiling at Mira, still the perfect host.

MIKLOS
(blurts)
Do not make the same mistake
twice, Mira.
 
Mira looks to Miklos, then to Bathory. Realization.

MIRA
I am married.

MIKLOS
To a shoemaker! You have nothing,
Mira. The Count will give you everything!

MIRA
You have already disowned me once. You
cannot threaten to do so again.

MIKLOS
(growls)
Listen to me--

MIRA
I do not belong to you, to trade away
for money or favor.

BATHORY
Please understand. I must have an heir.

MIRA
There are many unmarried maidens in the
village, my Lord. I suggest you choose
from one of them.
 
She stands.

MIRA (CONT’D)
I would like to see my son.
 
Bathory bows his head, gestures. Mira looks behind her to see one of the servers, waiting at the door.

INT. CASTLE - CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER

Mira follows the manservant. She watches his feet - frowns.

She stops - the manservant continues a few paces. His footsteps make no sound.

He slows to a dreamy stop, turns only his head to look back at her. His face is completely blank, expressionless.

Mira follows.

INT. CASTLE - GUEST ROOM - NIGHT

The manservant holds the door open for Mira. She enters, hurrying to the middle of the room.

MIRA
Dominik?
 
The door CLICKS SHUT behind her.

She looks around. Four poster bed, vanity with mirror and chair, wardrobe. The room is only lit by the moonlight coming in through the windows.

MIRA (CONT’D)
Dominik?
 
She walks all around, even though it is clear the room is empty. Mira goes to the door.

It is LOCKED.

Mira stares at it. Fear giving way to panic.

INT. CASTLE - ILKA’S ROOMS - NIGHT

Similar to Mira’s guest room, but disordered, slovenly.

Dominik sits on the floor, sobbing.

DOMINIK
Mama! Mama!
 
Ilka paces around him, wringing her hands.

ILKA
Stop crying! Be quiet!
 
She opens the door, shouts down the hallway.

ILKA (CONT’D)
Someone come take this wretched child!
 
No answer - the echo of her voice dies away. She tries to pick Dominik up - he goes limp, finally slithers out of her thin arms to flop back down on the floor.

He SHRIEKS, the terrifying cry of a child - you’re afraid he won’t be able to draw in another breath. His little face is bright red.

Ilka collapses beside him. Tired, frustrated, she starts crying herself.

ILKA (CONT’D)
Please stop crying. Please.
 
INT. GUEST ROOM - NIGHT

Mira POUNDS on the door. The panic has fully set in.

MIRA
Let me out! Open this door and let me out!
 
She grabs the handle, jerks it back and forth. No good.

Mira looks around the room wildly. Goes to a WINDOW. A moment to study, and then she opens it. Leans her head out to look.

No balcony or ledge - just perfectly flat stone flush with one another from top to bottom. And the bottom is a long ways down - several hundred feet to the base of the castle. This side is at the edge of a CLIFF.

Dizzy, Mira stumbles back. Spins in a slow circle. She is TRAPPED.

CUT TO:
 
INT. ILKA’S ROOMS - MORNING

Cold, dim light - an overcast day. Ilka wakes, bleary-eyed, on the floor, amidst a pile of wrinkled dresses.

The first thing she sees is DOMINIK’S FACE, right over hers, staring curiously.

DOMINIK
Can we eat now?
 
Ilka sits up - a crick in her neck.

ILKA
We will fast until sundown.

DOMINIK
You’re not fast. You’re slow.
(beat)
I want a egg.

ILKA
There are no eggs in the castle.

DOMINIK
Why?

ILKA
We will have only bread and water.

DOMINIK
Why?

ILKA
To remain pure.

DOMINIK
Why?

ILKA
You shouldn’t ask so many questions!

DOMINIK
Why?
 
She GROANS, buries her face in her hands. Dominik touches her hair.

DOMINIK (CONT’D)
It’s pretty.

ILKA
(looks up)
What?
 
He puts his arms around her neck, rests his cheek against hers.

DOMINIK
I want Mama.
 
Ilka doesn’t quite know what to do. She puts a hand on his back. One quick sniff of his hair.

ILKA
Your mama is occupied. Perhaps...we
could spend some time together?

DOMINIK
Can we play a game?

ILKA
Yes.
 
Tags: nascreewrimo, writing
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