Seen
INT. APARTMENT. DAY.
RED, oddly textured, fills the screen.
DETECTIVE CARVALHO (O.S.)
So whatcha got for me here?
PULL BACK. The RED is revealed as a splotch of BLOOD on a rug.
RAY WRAY (O.S.)
Something sharp . . .
CARVALHO (O.S.)
(Unimpressed)
Yeah, no shit.
We KEEP PULLING BACK, revealing more and more splotches—a definite trail, like spray from an invisible wound . . . a whole bunch of invisible wounds. Then a tail-end of CRIME-SCENE TAPE and the chalk OUTLINE of where a body used to be.
RAY (undistinguished, middle 30’s) is down on his knees next to the OUTLINE, checking notes on his clipboard. He wears plastic gloves and a disposable coverall.
RAY
(Points)
. . . thin, no edge, no blade. Kind of rounded,
maybe an awl, or a big needle.
CARVALHO
What, like some kinda mad knitter?
A NEW ANGLE establishes the rest of the room: Mass slaughter, but no bodies—just tape, chalk and blood trails.
RAY
Well, I need to do more tests, obviously. But
the closest parallel I can get you right now
is something the size of a catheter or a
trocar, like what they use for draining off
fluid during an autopsy.
(Gets up, turns to point)
So here’s how it plays out . . .
CARVALHO turns too. He sees—
HIS P.O.V.: A QUICK CUT of an outline next to the fridge.