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From: Harry
Date: 21 Nov 1999
Time: 00:27:33
Scene: Entrance to gates of Dallas necropolis
[The streets are surprisingly void of the dead traffic. A metallic taste clings to the air, and a gentle wind blows. Harry barely glances at the anonymous faces of the living. He makes his way to a wide alley. He quickly advances and easily forgets the sights and sounds of the city. A thick fog clouds the alley. It grays the landscape and gives it a more gothic ambiance that is normal for a metropolitan area Suddenly, all goes silent. Only the wind remains to carry the misty scent of the air.]
[Footsteps echo through the alleyway, but the owner of that heavy gait remains invisible behind the fog.]
Harry: (looking around) Who's there?
[Silence. The footsteps begin again.]
Harry: (standing and waiting)
[Footsteps advance, closer, closer...]
Harry: (into mist) Hey!?
[The gait gets heavier, but there is something else. It jingles like fresh coins as each footstep sounds.]
Voice from the mist: (commanding) Identify yourself.
Harry: (baffled) Hello?
Voice: (more firm) I said identify yourself.
Harry: Harry
[The footsteps get louder, and the sound of clinking metal gets clearer. Out from the mists, a blaze of golden light nearly blinds Harry.]
Harry: (turning away) Who- who are you?
[The mists part a bit, revealing a golden, sculpted torso. It is some kind of armor. A red cape flows from behind. The glaare of the armor recedes, and Harry looks at what appears to be a Roman soldier. A medieval sword dangles at the soldier's side.]
Harry: Who are you?
Soldier: I asked you first. Now answer my question or answer to my authority.
Harry: I'm Harry. (sarcastic, but half-believing) And you must be Julius Caesar.
Soldier: Where are you from?
Harry: Phoenix, why do you ask?
Soldier: (coldly) They must have a different way of doing things in Phoenix. Here, it is bad etiquette to speak so casually to the Marshall of the district.
Harry: (obviously embarrassed) Um, I'm sorry Mister, er, Marshall, uh, Sir-
Marshall: (patronizing) Marcellus Apollonius.
Harry: Sure, nice thing meeting you, Marc.
Marcellus: Sir would suffice quite well. (pause) You came a long way. What brings you here?
Harry: Personal business.
Marcellus: A woman?
Harry: (trying to hide surprise) Not exactly, Sir.
Marcellus: (confident) A woman. (pause) Whatever business you have, Harry, I will tell you this: we are an orderly society here. Mind the Dictum Mortum, or the next time you meet me, it will be to endure the full extent of the law. (walking back towards the mists) I need another piece fo furniture in my home anyway.
[Harry stands, staring as the mists clear to reveal an empty alleyway.]