Work Text:
FADE IN:
EXT. UNKNOWN LOCATION - DAWN
Underbrush in the fog - soft, ominous music
ONSCREEN:
In the 12th century, most of the rural population in western Europe lived as unfree laborers. Aristocratic families kept servants for their lands in nearby villages - these peasants, these villeins, were bound to the law and order of their ruling family and were punished at will for any offense deemed a transgression.
WORDS FADE OUT:
Morning light begins to dawn on a scene of wet underbrush. A pheasant bursts forth into the streaks of sun. Something indiscernible hits the bird, and it falls as abruptly as it appeared.
CYME (V.O.)
He took a pheasant from the manor grounds...
CUT TO:
INT. DUNGEON
An area of dark stone and flickering firelight. Chains clank. A man is thrown to the floor in front of the camera. EDWARD, pale of skin with dark hair and wide eyes, is beaten and dirty. He is sprawled on the rough ground, arms and hands stretched out before him as if he had attempted to catch himself as he fell. The screen goes black, and there is a terrible slicing sound.
CYME (V.O.)
...they took his hands.
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
There is the sound of wind against shutters.
INT. A POOR DWELLING - DAY
Fade in on very rustic shutters closed against but rattling furiously with the wind. Snow blows in at every gap. The camera pans down to show a snow-glazed dirt floor under the rough window, then pans over to a barely glowing hearth, then onto a bundle of rags nearby. We can see EDWARD'S face in profile as he lays beneath the heaped covers. His eyes are closed, and his face is creased in pain and distress. He shivers, and his breath shudders in and out. The light increases just slightly, and we see dirty bandages splotched bright red against darker stains as he presses his ruined limbs to his chest. The growing light also reveals CYME'S face in profile, where she is tucked tight against his back, rocking, whispering...
CYME
Edward... Edward... Edward...
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
INT. A POOR DWELLING - DAY
CYME sits on the floor, facing the camera. She is a rough looking woman in patched clothing. There is the sound of rasping metal as she draws a long, thin blade over a whetstone several times. Putting the stone aside, CYME pulls several strands of her long, unkempt hair over her shoulder. The blade cuts through them as if through air. Holding the blade up, she turns to look behind her at a dim figure sitting bundled against the wall.
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
INT. A POOR DWELLING - DAY
CYME kneels in front of EDWARD. The camera is pulled in close, and we can only see them facing each other in profile from the shoulders up. CYME is looking down, adjusting something out of view with the soft sound of cloth and leather. EDWARD is extremely pale with black hair that juts from his scalp like windblown, un-mown hay. He looks out of dark-rimmed, sunken eyes but does not seem to see anything.
CYME
There! And... aaaahhh!
CYME jerks back, the side of her hand to her mouth. She looks at EDWARD; looks in his eyes, and though nothing in his expression or manner has changed, he seems to see her. A blade slowly lifts into the frame. It is attached to a raggedly wrapped stump, jutting obscenely from where his arm terminates at the wrist. He touches her hand with the blade, nudging it from her mouth to see the bloody cut there.
CYME
I can do better...
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
EXT. A WEEDY OPEN SPACE IN FRONT OF THE DWELLING - DAY
It is spring, as is evidenced by the budding underbrush growing around a dwelling that is little more than a hovel. CYME kneels just in front of the doorway stitching at something that is all strips of leather and metal glinting in the sun. Three children move into the frame to look at her through the taller foliage surrounding the area. They giggle, and she lifts her gaze, smiling inquiringly. EDWARD appears as a shadowy figure in the doorway behind CYME. The children flee silently. EDWARD moves into the light. His clothing hangs loosely on his too-thin frame, wide shirt sleeves falling to half-conceal the double pair of long, rusty-looking blades that have replaced each of his hands. His pale face is passive, marked by two or three ragged scars.
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
INT. A POOR DWELLING - DAY
We follow CYME out of a dark space, through a door into the bright light of summer. She walks to EDWARD who has his back to the camera. There is the sound of singing blades, and we see strands of long grass falling around him.
CYME (quietly to herself)
Scythe-man you were, scythe-man you'll be again.
(and louder) I'm going for water, Edward.
She touches him on the shoulder, and he turns, a hint of a smile actually on his sunken face. He holds a "hand" up to show a glove of sorts with three blades lashed to his arm with straps of leather.
CYME
Keep practicing.
Kissing him on the cheek, she walks toward the camera, which pulls back with her progress through the thick growth. CYME comes to an open area around a well. As she dips her bucket, there are voices around her that we barely hear.
VARIOUS (V.O.)
...restless up on the hill ....
... some darkness fallen ...
...Old Vahnna was drowned ...
...I'm telling my own not to step out of line...
...take down anyone that doesn't seem right...
CYME turns away with her water and her back is to the camera now. She looks to her left and the camera pans out a bit. A wisp of very dark smoke rises from beyond a wild hedge. Her face registers concern, but she continues to walk sedately back the way she came. The camera follows her, and we notice that there has been a stark change in the few minutes since she passed this way. The tall grasses she had woven her way through are gone, and branches are stripped from the small trees. A rickety fence is nothing but wood shavings.
CYME looks around with alarm written on her face and begins to run toward her home. We see three long gouges on either side of the doorway, and discover that much that could be shredded in the small space within has been. She stops short of EDWARD who has his back to us and is raking the short blades that are his hands down the walls on either side of the rough portal that passes for a window. His clothes are in tatters and, as the camera follows CYME to his side, we see his face in profile against the light of the window. His expression is contorted in some emotion that falls between wrenching grief and awful anger.
CYME
(gasping)
Edward?
EDWARDS face is a patchwork of bleeding cuts. He stares unmoving (besides the scraping blades) at the manor house now visible beyond the mown foliage.
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
EXT. AN OPEN SPACE IN FRONT OF THE DWELLING - NIGHT
Much like the very first shot of the film, it is near dawn and there is only thick underbrush to be seen. This scene is not shrouded in fog, but lit by wavering, orange light. The grass up to the edge of the bushes is cleanly, precisely, unnaturally trimmed.
EDWARD moves into the clearing, and his passage through the greenery hardly even disturbs a leaf. He looks to the glowing orange illuminating the scene off camera. The camera moves with his gaze to focus on the blaze that has consumed the small dwelling that was in the clearing. EDWARD walks into the shot and kneels on the ground, looking at a jumble of objects. He delicately fingers a bit of leather with one of his "finger" blades. We can see that his "hands" have evolved into something new - blades of different length and flexibility are now present, giving the illusion that EDWARD sports a very effective set of long, straight claws on each hand.
The camera zooms in slowly to focus on the bits of leather tack and bright metal pieces on the ground. There are signs of conflict all around - horse hooves have torn up the sod, and there is a shallow furrow cut through the clipped grass, evidently streaked with blood - this can be seen even in the uncertain light. The camera pulls back to encompass EDWARD again as he stands, looking intently toward something beyond our sight. From this angle, we can see that the blades that are his hands connect to a complex series of straps and loops traveling up his arms and around his shoulders. Both his torso and legs are banded in wide belts to keep the loose cloth of his clothing from fouling the blades. His face is hard and set - there is the sound of metal sliding as if from a scabbard.
CHILD (V.O.)
Edward! Edward!
INTERCUT: A small girl whose face and clothes are smeared black runs into the scene. She evidently comes from the now obviously burning village seen between the trees in the background. EDWARD catches her small form as she throws herself against his legs, careful to keep the blades from touching her.
CHILD
I can't find my momma!
The child pulls back and snuffles as EDWARD kneels to look her in the face. He very delicately wipes a tear from her cheek with the razor edge of a blade. The child does not even flinch at his touch. She sniffles and reaches toward him.
CHILD:
You cut yourself again.
CUT TO a close-up of EDWARD'S face, which has softened in expression. The child traces a bloody scratch beneath his eye. His face is a veritable web of scars.
WOMAN OFF CAMERA (V.O.)
Jolie! Where are you! Oh please! Jolie!
The child looks to where the voice comes from off camera.
CHILD
Momma!
CUT TO a wide shot - EDWARD stands as the child runs to a person off-camera. He turns his back and regards the still blazing ruins nearby, with the glow of the burning village stark in the background. There is a distinct SNKT sound (very much reminiscent of Wolverine unsheathing his claws) as EDWARD flexes his hands and walks purposefully off screen.
FADE OUT
END
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