One: In My Shadow
Sci Fi Karis
INT. NYC POLICE DEPARTMENT – OFFICE
Steven Rhodes is sitting at his desk
looking at various files scattered around him. A laptop
sits open before him, and he takes occasional glances
at it as he reads.
PAN AROUND to the DOOR as George Harris
enters, papers in hand.
Steven, I have some new leads.
George lays the papers down in front
of Steven. PAN DOWN to reveal pictures of Dean exiting
his motel room and the Irish Sea Bar. Steven grows excited.
I know it’s him. It has to be. The description
the witnesses gave . . . and I saw this man right before
the murder of Miss Collins.
And our latest murder. Even if this isn’t our
guy, it wouldn’t hurt to bring him in for questioning.
Where are the pictures from?
The pictures came from our agent we had scoping the
areas around where the murders took place, and this
guy popped up at all of them.
Do you have an address?
The guy doesn’t have an address.
George slides a paper over to Steven.
Steven reads the paper and raises an eyebrow at George.
No permanent address. He’s been here since last
night. Signed into this motel under the name Daniel
Johnson. Before that he was in over a dozen hotels over
the past four months. All in New York City.
Got a name on this guy?
Dean Winchester. The most interesting thing about this
guy is this.
George passes another paper over to
Steven. PAN DOWN to reveal a death certificate.
I’m not. He was found shot to death two years
ago. He has a brother, Samuel Winchester. Also deceased.
Samuel died just four months ago. We found his headstone.
Father is John Winchester, a retired Marine. We can’t
find any trace of him anywhere.
(pointing to death certificate)
How is this possible?
Beats me. Maybe he faked his death?
How can you fake this?
We have to find this guy.
I’ll send some guys to the motel.
Hold that thought.
He stands, quickly grabbing his coat
I’m going with them.
The door bursts open, and a bunch of
cops led by Steven Rhodes stream into the darkened room,
guns ready. One of the cops ducks into the bathroom.
This is the police! Come out with your hands up!
PAN AROUND the room. It is dark, empty.
Several bottles of beer lie on the writing desk and
the bed is rumpled, looking as though someone has slept
in it. The cop comes out of the bathroom and shakes
All right, men. Looks like he flew the coop. Search
the place. I want anything else you can find on this
EXT. MOTEL – PARKING LOT
Dean pulls into the parking lot in
the Impala and cruises by the four parked police cars,
staring suspiciously. He puts his sunglasses on and
exits the parking lot.
is driving, and Sam is sitting beside him.
This complicates things.
That hasn’t stopped you before.
EXT. NYC STREET
The Impala zooms past the camera and
merges into the busy city traffic.
FLASH CUT TO:
INT. HOSPITAL – OFFICE
Dr. Heitmeyer is sitting in a plush
leather chair in his office, notepad in hand. Dean sits
across from him on a couch.
I feel like I’m being pulled in two different
What makes you feel that way?
I don’t know. Something isn’t right. I have
to fix it.
Since you’ve come here you’ve said many
times that things don’t feel right. I can prescribe
some more –
No! No. No more drugs.
Dean rises from the couch, angered.
Heitmeyer looks uncomfortable and glances at the open
door. An orderly pokes his head in at the outburst.
All right. No more drugs.
Dean slowly sits back down and Heitmeyer
nods at the orderly, who disappears behind the doorframe.
I need to get out.
You’re not ready to leave, yet.
I have to. I have to get out. These walls . . . they’re
closing in on me.
What would you do if you were to leave?
Lots of things. Hunt bad guys. Shoot things.
Heitmeyer is alarmed.
I’m kidding, doc. Just kidding.
By the look in Dean’s eye we
can see that he is not kidding. PAN IN towards Dean
as he gives the doctor a slow grin. Something is off.
FLASH CUT TO:
EXT. NYC STREETS – NIGHT
Dean walks out of an alley carrying
his knife, blood covering his hands. He looks back and
forth and takes a cloth out of his pocket, wiping his
hands, then throwing the cloth on the ground.
A few people on the streets scarcely
take notice of him. He continues walking down the sidewalk,
shoving his knife into his pocket.
A scream cuts through the night behind
him. He keeps walking, calm and demure.
The people walking the sidewalks pause,
and a few start towards the alley Dean has just exited.
A man comes to the entrance of the
alley, curious, and sees a woman leaning over a body
on the ground. Blood covers the ground.
Dear God in heaven . . .
As he moves closer, he sees it is a
man lying on the ground, the woman’s fiancée.
He is dressed in a tuxedo, she in a beautiful evening
gown. Her face is stained with tears.
The man fumbles for his cellphone,
still staring at the body on the ground.
No, no, no! You can’t die! Stay with me, honey!
Hi . . . uh, there’s a man here . . . it looks
like he was stabbed.
EXT. NYC ALLEY – NIGHT
Police car lights flicker through the
alley and yellow tape is all around. Steven Rhodes stands
over the body, the woman sobbing and refusing to leave
her fiancée’s side. He kneels beside her,
his hand on her shoulder.
Ma’am, we need to let the paramedics in here.
I can’t leave him!
I’m sorry for your loss.
He pauses, then turns her to face him
and looks her dead in the eye.
Believe me when I say that I will do all that is within
in my power to hunt this guy down and make him pay for
the lives he has taken.
INT. NYC POLICE STATION – INTERVIEW ROOM
Steven is sitting at a table, and across
from him is the woman whose fiancée was killed.
She has been crying.
Did you see the man that attacked you?
Yes. He was . . . he was young. Handsome. In his twenties,
maybe. He seemed very nice, very polite . . . and out
of nowhere, he just –
She breaks down, sobbing again, unable
to finish the gruesome tale.
Ma’am, if you got a clear picture of him, do you
think you could I.D. this guy if we brought him in?
The woman nods. Steven grins- “got
INT. NYC MOTEL
The lights are dim, and Dean sits on
the edge of the bed, flipping a gun in his hand, a bottle
of beer in the other hand. The television is broadcasting
the most recent murder in the background. PAN OUT to
reveal Sam sitting on the other bed, staring at Dean.
I can’t do it, Sammy.
Yes, you can, Dean.
Dean slowly points the gun to his head
and closes his eyes. Sam grows concerned and moves from
his bed to sit next to Dean.
Dean, don’t do it.
I can’t go on, Sam.
Dean, you’re so close. You have to finish the
Dean lowers the gun and turns to look
at Sam, his eyes shining with tears.
Sammy . . . I can’t do this without you. The hunt
. . . the hunt is over.
The hunt will never be over. You told me that yourself.
There is always something out there to hunt. There is
always going to be some evil out there. You’re
the only one that’s left now. You’re the
only one that can stop it.
Don’t say that.
It’s different now. I . . . I’m barely holding
it together . . . I’m not holding it together
. . . I mean, look at me!
He gestures to the gun and throws the
bottle against the wall. It crashes, shattering against
the wall. There is a long silence.
Dad won’t be able to hunt without you.
He’s stronger than I am.
You should call him.
No. He . . . he didn’t look me in the eye.
IN towards Dean as he gets a faraway look in his eye,
He couldn’t look at me, Sam! Not after you . .
. you . . .
Dean can’t finish, and he looks
down at the gun, cocking the trigger and raising it
towards his head again.
Dean, you can’t.
You can’t stop me.
I’ll never forgive you.
You can’t do this to yourself. The world needs
a hunter like you, someone strong, someone who can do
the job and not take the credit. Someone who isn’t
afraid. Someone who can know that even though you make
sacrifices every day, it isn’t something that
I’m not the person you’re talking about,
But I believe you are. I believe in you.
Dean looks at Sam, lowering the gun.
Do you really believe that?
Sam gives Dean a small, sincere smile.
I do, Dean. I believe every word.
Dean flicks on the gun’s safety.
Then let’s finish the hunt.
FLASH CUT TO:
INT. NYC POLICE STATION – OFFICE
Steven Rhodes is sitting at his desk,
studying some papers.
POV. looking straight down on Steven’s
desk to see various pictures of Dean exiting a motel,
the Irish Sea Bar, and walking down the street. Steven
has a map of New York City set over all of the pictures
with various circles drawn across its surface. He draws
one more circle, looking at a crime scene photo of the
latest victim and tagging it with the number four.
He scans the map, referencing a list
of motels at his side, and begins making more circles.
Slowly, a shape begins to form on the map – a
larger circle. He connects the circles together and