Chapter Text
FADE IN.
INT. HOUSE - OFFICE - NEXT DAY - NOON
We fade in on Blinded Man sitting on the floor. He has his knees pulled to his chest, head resting in his arms, and is sitting beside MUSIC CONDUCTOR (30’s).
Music Conductor is humming a tune, trying to ignore the THREE CULTISTS (30’s, 20’s, 20‘s) sitting on the COUCH behind them.
The cultists stare at Blinded Man, unbeknownst to him. He rocks gently to Music Conductor’s HUMMING.
Then, Music Conductor’s humming CRACKS, and he silences.
Blinded Man turns his head to Music Conductor.
BLINDED MAN
What’s wrong?
Music Conductor turns to the cultists. Cultist 1 is now peering over Blinded Man’s shoulder, inspecting his face.
Music Conductor glares at Cultist 1. He waves his hand at them, causing them to back up.
Blinded man peers towards the sound of rustling, but Music Conductor has already turned back to his original sitting position.
MUSIC CONDUCTOR
(grumbling)
Nothing. The homeowner let some...
(glaring at CULTISTS)
odd... people, reside here yesternight.
Blinded Man hums, pulling his knees closer to his chest.
CREAK.
Music Conductor turns towards the door to the office, which is open now. Factory Guy stands in the doorframe, staring at the cultists with worry.
Music Conductor shoots a hateful glare at Factory Guy. When Factory Guy stops staring at the cultists, he looks to Music Conductor and Blinded Man. He shrinks at Music Conductor’s gaze.
FACTORY GUY
U-Um...
(pointing to BLINDED MAN)
I’m here for him...
Music Conductor quickly shuffles in front of Blinded Man, shielding Factory Guy’s view of him.
MUSIC CONDUCTOR
You won’t take him. I won't let you.
Blinded Man scoots backwards at Music Conductor’s presence, a bit flustered at the closeness.
BLINDED MAN
Are you... talking about me? Who’s at the door?
MUSIC CONDUCTOR
(lowly, grumbling)
The guy with the FEMA suit.
(louder)
Take the damned cultists. They’re who you’re after.
Factory Guy sighs, glancing towards the cultists. Their eyes remain glued on Blinded Man.
When Factory Guy opens his mouth to say something, Blinded Man speaks first.
BLINDED MAN
Wait, FEMA suit?
Music Conductor is silent, still staring through Factory Guy. Factory Guy does not meet his gaze, nervously looking at anything else.
Then, breaking the tension, Blinded Man laughs.
BLINDED MAN
He won’t take anyone. Let him come in, Edgar.
(gently pushing MUSIC CONDUCTOR back)
And, be a little nicer to him. He doesn’t mean any harm.
Music Conductor looks at Blinded Man with a confused expression, but falls back anyway. He kneels in place.
Sheepishly, Factory Guy enters the room, gently shutting the door behind him.
He walks to Blinded Man, sitting beside him so that he's wedged between him and Music Conductor. Factory Guy places his hand on top of Blinded Man’s to state his presence.
FACTORY GUY
(whispering, voice cracking)
Thanks.
Blinded Man smiles, acknowledging his hand as Factory Guy pulls away. He turns to Music Conductor.
BLINDED MAN
Also... did you say there are cultists in here?
Music Conductor hasn't taken his eyes off of Factory Guy. He has suspicion still drawn in his glare, but allows himself to look back at the cultists. They've moved to sit on the edge of the couch, inspecting Blinded Man's figure.
MUSIC CONDUCTOR
Yes. Three of them, in purple robes.
BLINDED MAN
(repeating, slight worry)
Purple robes?
Music Conductor doesn’t seem to notice Blinded Man’s wavering voice, but Factory Guy does.
MUSIC CONDUCTOR
(sarcastic)
Yeah. They really seem to enjoy you.
Blinded Man’s mouth flatlines, and his body shifts uncomfortably.
Factory Guy looks him up and down before jerking forward like he's in a rush.
FACTORY GUY
(abruptly)
U-Um! I came in here to say that
(re: BLINDED MAN)
he is needed, uh, in the hallway.
BLINDED MAN
I am?
MUSIC CONDUCTOR
(simultaneously)
He is?
Factory Guy’s stands, grabbing Blinded Man’s hand, who stands upright when prompted.
He looks at Factory Guy's demanding hand in harrowing confusion and uncertainty.
FACTORY GUY
Yes! The, uh, homeowner, is looking for him!
Blinded Man glances down at Music Conductor. His arm is tugged by Factory Guy, and he follows, albeit hesitantly. They stumble out of sync.
They leave the room, and the cultists peer through the doorframe as Factory Guy closes it much more urgently than he thought.
INT. HOUSE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
As soon as Factory Guy shuts the door, He guides Blinded Man’s hand to the doorknob.
Blinded Man sighs relief as his hand explores the wall.
BLINDED MAN
Jesus. I almost didn’t think it was you.
Factory Guy fumbles nervously.
FACTORY GUY
Sorry. You looked, um... uncomfortable.
Blinded Man laughs softly, looking down. The laugh turns uncomfortable, again, then solemn.
BLINDED MAN
Can we go back to the kitchen?
Factory Guy’s hums an affirmation, beginning to walk to it. He opens the door.
BLINDED MAN
W-Wait. I don’t know where I’m at.
FACTORY GUY
(smiling)
A little to the right.
Blinded Man feels the wall, gripping the doorframe. Factory Guy allows Blinded Man to go first, then closes the door behind him.
INT. HOUSE - KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Blinded Man sighs, shakily feeling the table. He takes his seat at the end of it.
There is an awkward silence between them. Factory Guy sits next to Blinded Man, folding his hands in his lap.
After a few more moments, Blinded Man’s face shifts with uncertainty.
BLINDED MAN
...Are you still here?
Factory Guy can’t help but let out a small laugh.
FACTORY GUY
Yes, sorry. I should’ve said something.
BLINDED MAN
(laughing)
No, it’s okay. You were just really quiet.
Another pause.
BLINDED MAN
Thank you. For, taking me.
(lowly)
It’s not everyday I thank someone for dragging me somewhere.
Factory Guy looks around the room awkwardly. He’s listening, just not looking at him.
FACTORY GUY
(off)
Do you want to talk about it?
Blinded Man sighs, staring down at the table, contemplating. Then, he shakes his head.
BLINDED MAN
I would rather not, if that’s okay. Maybe tomorrow.
FACTORY GUY
Okay. You don’t have to tell me, I just want to make sure you’re okay, I guess.
(pause)
How did you sleep?
Blinded Man smiles, grateful for the change of topic.
BLINDED MAN
Fine, until I was woken by Edgar. Said he wanted company.
(grumbling)
Didn’t tell me who was in there.
FACTORY GUY
Edgar is the guy in the suit, right?
BLINDED MAN
(nodding)
He’s a music conductor. Pretty good at what he does, I like his company, but... he can be a bit... insensitive, at times.
(laughing)
I can tell he doesn’t like you.
Factory Guy laughs.
FACTORY GUY
We didn’t have a... pleasant, introduction.
BLINDED MAN
What happened?
FACTORY GUY
Nothing bad, just... doesn’t like FEMA. I can’t blame him. Sees a guy in their suit and gets upset.
BLINDED MAN
Do you not have any other clothes to change into?
FACTORY GUY
(re: SATCHEL)
I... have this bag. It has a t-shirt in it, but... It doesn’t cover my arms.
Blinded Man goes quiet, then holds his head in his hands. He releases a soft laugh, smiling.
FACTORY GUY
What?
BLINDED MAN
Nothing. It’s just kinda poetic. You’d rather ruin your reputation to hide your hives than be comfortable in your own skin.
(pause)
Safety over all else, I guess.
Factory Guy hums and takes his SATCHEL in his hands. He opens it and fishes out a CAMOFLAUGE T-SHIRT.
He gazes over it, then sets it on the table.
FACTORY GUY
(staring at SHIRT)
I think that safety is pretty important. Especially now. But, if I was accused of being a visitor, then...
BLINDED MAN
I’m surprised you haven’t been yet.
(fidgeting)
How do you hide your eyes?
Factory Guy laughs and closes his satchel.
FACTORY GUY
I don’t. You’re the only person who’s come close enough to see my eyes in that much detail.
(solemn laugh)
I’m glad you can’t. Uh, see them, that is.
They go silent. Factory Guy peers down at his hands. He removes his gloves and sets them on the table, looking over his hands now.
FACTORY GUY
Is that weird? To be grateful you can’t see me?
Blinded Man has to think about it for a moment. He turns to the wall.
BLINDED MAN
I don’t know. I wish I could see you, if I’m gonna be honest. But...
(shaky sigh)
the thought of seeing anything ever again... it scares me. It still feels like the image of that visitor is engraved into my mind, even without my eyes.
Blinded Man reaches for a glass of water that isn’t there. Factory Guy opens his mouth to talk, but Blinded Man stands.
BLINDED MAN
(still shaky)
One second, sorry.
Blinded Man walks over to the cabinet. He opens it and feels inside for a glass.
When he finds it, he moves to the sink, filling it with water.
Factory Guy watches him fill the glass, inquiring when Blinded Man turns off the sink.
FACTORY GUY
Are you... even able to cry?
Blinded Man reaches back into the cabinet. He fishes out a PILL BOTTLE, one which Factory Guy looks at worriedly.
BLINDED MAN
I don’t know.
Blinded Man opens the bottle and pops two PILLS into his mouth. He dry swallows.
Then, Blinded man walks back over, sitting down with the glass of water. He places the bottle of pills next to it.
BLINDED MAN
I haven’t been brave enough to try.
FACTORY GUY
(cutting in)
I think you’re brave.
BLINDED MAN
(scoff-laugh)
What, are you trying to get me to cry?
FACTORY GUY
(quickly)
No! I-I’m not trying to, anyway.
(pause)
I do think that you could use a good cry, though. Sounds like you have a lot of stuff you’re going through.
Blinded Man frowns and drinks from the glass.
BLINDED MAN
My eyes are still, technically, open wounds. If I cry, I’m scared they’ll get infected.
Factory Guy squints. He moves to the edge of his seat, trying to gaze into Blinded Man’s eye sockets.
Blinded Man stills, mouth flattening awkwardly, as if he can feel Factory Guy’s presence.
Blinded Man shies away, looking towards the wall again.
BLINDED MAN
D-Don’t look in there.
FACTORY GUY
Sorry, I just... aren’t tears like, salt water? You’d think crying would clean them.
BLINDED MAN
(sighing)
It’s the pain, too. I can’t stand it.
FACTORY GUY
(re: pill bottle)
Is that what those are for?
BLINDED MAN
(pause)
...What?
FACTORY GUY
Oh, sorry. The pills.
BLINDED MAN
(realizing, chuckling)
Oh, yeah.
(grabbing bottle)
I just kind of... take what I can get ahold of. Hope it kills the pain.
Blinded man pouts, looking back at Factory Guy. He then slides the pill bottle towards him.
BLINDED MAN
Actually, could you tell me what they are? They work great, I just have no idea what I’m taking.
Factory Guy grabs the bottle, flipping it over to view the label.
FACTORY GUY
(reading)
..."Tramadol"?
Factory Guy glances up at Blinded Man, whose face tenses in worry.
FACTORY GUY
Is that... bad?
BLINDED MAN
(pause)
Not... necessarily, no...
(sucking air through teeth)
But I've heard you shouldn't have more than two pills a day. It can be addictive.
FACTORY GUY
(setting down bottle)
Well, how many are you taking?
Blinded Man scoffs, leaning back in his chair.
BLINDED MAN
At least six. It's very easy to overdose on it, too.
FACTORY GUY
I mean, you're still here. Surely taking six isn't terrible, then.
BLINDED MAN
(sighing)
I mean, I guess so. Just the moral implications of it's kinda fucked up.
Blinded Man reaches up to touch his own face. He prods around the empty sockets of his eyes.
BLINDED MAN
I did this to myself— why should I be taking someone else's medication?
Factory Guy reaches to grab the bottle again. He looks at the label.
FACTORY GUY
It's not even the homeowner's. The name on here is feminine.
BLINDED MAN
(scoff-laugh)
I guess that's a relief. Still, that could be his wife or something.
Factory Guy frowns, setting the bottle back down.
FACTORY GUY
(gently)
Do you... wanna try crying?
Blinded Man frowns, taking his hands off of his face and looking towards Factory Guy.
BLINDED MAN
Look. I appreciate you asking, I really do, but... I can handle my emotional stuff on my own. I'm not going to ask you for therapy.
Silence falls over them, and Blinded man hangs his head. Factory Guy frowns at that.
BLINDED MAN
Sorry, I don't mean to be a buzzkill. Right now, I'd just rather look at the positive things life has to offer, even trapped inside this home.
FACTORY GUY
When this is all over, I'll find you a professional.
Blinded Man hics, hurling over and holding his mouth in his hand, as if he's about to start crying. His face shrivels up.
FACTORY GUY
(nervously)
J—Just kidding! I would never do that, I wouldn't, um...
Blinded Man holds his hand up, quivering. Then, he sighs, stilling.
BLINDED MAN
(shaky)
What did... what did the cultists look like?
Factory Guy straightens up. He seems taken aback at the change of topic.
FACTORY GUY
I... I thought you didn't want to talk about that.
BLINDED MAN
I don't, but... I can't afford to wait until tomorrow.
FACTORY GUY
Well...
(thinking)
They all had purple robes on, like Edgar said...
Factory Guy brings his knees to his chest. He has to scoot in his chair a bit uncomfortably to do so.
FACTORY GUY
They were younger. Two of them were, anyway. One probably closer to your age.
(pause)
I wouldn't know much about them, but... they don't look very friendly. They were all...
(pause)
looking... at you. I didn't want to assume you knew them, but... the way your voice cracked, I—
BLINDED MAN
(interrupting)
Stop. They were looking at me?
FACTORY GUY
Staring, more like.
BLINDED MAN
Staring.
(sarcastic)
Great. Awesome.
Blinded Man throws his head back in his hands, covering it.
BLINDED MAN
(muffled)
There wasn't a fourth one there though, was there? One, um... with just a purple button-up?
FACTORY GUY
(thinking)
No... No, there wasn't.
Blinded Man sighs relief, letting out a small laugh.
BLINDED MAN
Okay. I think it's time for bed.
Factory Guy looks at the clock.
FACTORY GUY
It's... it's only 3 p.m..
BLINDED MAN
(frowning)
I... sorry. I would like to be left alone for a little while. That's what I meant.
Factory Guy, a little too quickly, gets out of his chair. He grabs his gloves and shirt from the table. He puts the gloves back on.
FACTORY GUY
Okay. Can I... stop by tomorrow?
Blinded Man nods. Then he tilts his head down.
FACTORY GUY
Will you tell me about the cultists then?
BLINDED MAN
(solemn)
Yeah. Yeah, I will. You will see me tomorrow.
Factory Guy frowns, staring uncomfortably at Blinded Man. He wants to say something, but every time he opens his mouth, it just closes.
FACTORY GUY
(forced)
Okay. I'll see you... tomorrow...
(stepping to door, opening)
Um... I hope you feel better soon. I'm sorry if I made you upset.
BLINDED MAN
You didn't make me upset, just... there's a lot going on in my mind right now. Everything will be better tomorrow.
(shaky smile)
Okay?
Factory Guy nods, obviously more to himself than him.
FACTORY GUY
Okay. Goodnight.
Factory Guy waits for a response.
None comes, Blinded Man's head tilting down even further.
Factory Guy bites his lip, slowly shutting the door.
CUT TO:
INT. HOUSE — BATHROOM — LATER
Factory Guy sits in the bathtub, knees pulled to his chest. He stares at his t-shirt in front of him.
But, it's evident that he's not thinking about the t-shirt.
Factory Guy then stands, albeit slowly. He steps out of the tub, grabbing his shirt.
He begins to pull his FEMA suit off. It takes some effort, but he throws it in the tub, now SHIRTLESS.
He frowns as he looks at his own body in the mirror.
There are multiple spots of FUNGAL GROWTH on his torso.
FACTORY GUY
(whispering)
Shit.
He reaches for his bag, pulling out an UNLABELED TUBE. He opens it, pours some OINTMENT in his hands, and rubs it over the fungal growth.
He sets the tube back in his bag, looking over his body again. The hives and scabs luckily end at his forearms, but the discoloration of his skin start where the hives end.
He glances at the t-shirt, grabbing it in his hands.
He holds it up, displaying it to himself.
Then, Factory Guy flips the shirt around, beginning to put it on.
He does, and it's loose-fitting. Factory Guy stares at himself in the mirror.
Then, he smiles.
CUT TO BLACK.