This Text file is old! In a ðŸ›ï¸Museum, an unsorted archive of (user-)pages. (Saved from Geocities in Oct-2009. The archival story: oocities.org)
--------------------------------------- (To 🚫report any bad content: archivehelp @ gmail.com)
>

Title: Once Upon A Time In Paris
Rating: R
Author: Bullions
E-Mail: bullions27@yahoo.com
Spoilers: None
Discaimer: I own nada from BtvS
Category: Action/Horror
Summary: Buffy and Jehonas team up once more. This
time in the city of Lights, Paris, where they are
faced with a new enemy, werewolves. 
URL: http://www.geocities.com/bullions27

*****************************************************

                  ONCE UPON A TIME IN PARIS

by Bullions

FADE IN:

EXT.  CEMETARY - NIGHT

Wind whistling.
 
CUT TO a stone effigy of the angel of death, wings
spread 
wide, half-smile on her face, with a cloak of snow. 
 
PULL BACK to reveal a large obelisk grave marker the
statue 
is perched on. 
 
PAN FURTHER BACK. 
 
The entire yard is blanketed in white from an earlier
storm.  
Morbid winter wonderland.
 
Then, the soft SOUNDS of snow being crunched.  Someone
is 
approaching.  A large shadow falls over the stone with
the 
angel.  Whoever it is stares at the statue, then moves
away.
 
WHIP PAN following the man in a low angle view.  His
legs 
passing by numerous manicured headstones, markers of
all 
kinds, arriving at the cemetery gates.

PAN UP AND AROUND past his body, to see the man from
behind.  
He is tall, powerful build under the long coat flowing

against the wind.  His stature is impeccable, unmoving

against the cold breath of nature.  He pushes open the
outer 
gates.  It CREAKS, disturbing silence.

EXT.  STREETSIDE - NIGHT

The man walks out of the gate, to BUFFY waiting.  It's

freezing out in Paris.  Ice puddles along the curb. 
Ground 
so cold, smoke rises from the cement and gravel. 
Buffy 
exhales a mist, brushes her arm briskly.  Her nose
giving off 
a rosy hue.

                     THE MAN
          You okay?

                     BUFFY
          Superbe.  Et vous?

                     THE MAN
          Peachy. 

A church bell rings from a distance, resonating.  This
draws 
Buffy's attention to --

HER POV: A large white cross on the church steeple
standing 
against the rolling gray clouds.

BACK ON BUFFY, pulling her leather jacket tighter
around her 
body.  Both of them wear predominately black.

                     BUFFY
          So what are we waiting for?

                     THE MAN
          Our contact.  He is late.

Buffy nods, rocks back and forth on the inch-high
heels of 
her shoes.

                     THE MAN
          You sure you don't want my coat?  Seeing 
          how you're practically naked in front of 
          me.

                     BUFFY
          I'm good.  Thanks.

                     THE MAN
          Sure?

                     BUFFY
               (hard)
          Yes, Dad.

                     THE MAN
          All right.  You sneeze, you suffer.

A long sleek STRETCH LIMO cruises up near the entrance
of the 
cemetery.  It pulls to a stop.  The man motions Buffy
to climb in.

INT.  LIMOUSINE - NIGHT

Inside, a PRIEST, early 40s, is sitting, looking
stressed.  
He's dressed in his "civilian" clothing, wears his
hair short 
and proper. 
 
The door opens, a shadow comes inside and a sudden
gust of 
cool wind.  The Priest visibly shudders, both from man
and 
nature.  Buffy drops herself in a seat across from
him.  The 
Priest is surprised by her appearance, stares.

                     PRIEST
          Oh, I did not expect company.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          My apprentice.

The Priest looks even more confused.

                     PRIEST
          Ah oui, I see.  An apprentice...

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          Problem?

                     PRIEST
          No.  Not at all.  This is unexpected.

                     BUFFY
          You guys know each other?

                     PRIEST
          We do.  For some years.

                     THE MAN
          He has connections with the Camarilla 
          society, Buffy.  It helps to have someone 
          work in the day, especially a person of 
          his position.
  
                     PRIEST
          For better or for worst.
               (to the man)
          Again, I would like to express my 
          sincerest gratitude for you coming to us.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          I'm here, Father.  You have nothing to 
          worry about.  This place is it.

The Priest looks out the window.  A sullen nod.

                     PRIEST
          This was Brother Pierre's church.  He had 
          a congregation of his own several years 
          ago.  There were some problems.  The 
          church has been deserted since.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          What sort of problems?

                     PRIEST
          We aren't sure exactly what happened to 
          him, only theories, or what became of him 
          after.  He disappeared.

The Priest leans forward to pick up a file.  The
action draws 
him close to Buffy.  He smiles uncomfortably.

                     PRIEST
          Excusez-moi.

Buffy scoots to the side.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          Brother Pierre?

                     PRIEST
          He was an excellent priest, devoted in 
          every way.

He opens up the file, pulls out 8-inch by 10-inch
glossies.

A HAND appears, accepts each photo one by one.

The first one is of a YOUNG GIRL, no more than late
teens, an 
angel, smiling as if the sun never sets.  Each other
one, 
various blow-ups of other people.

                     PRIEST
          Those are the missing victims of the past 
          four months.  The first photo is Chloe.

The photos are rotated between the three.

                     PRIEST
               (indicating a mugshot of a man)
          That is Brother Pierre.

                     THE MAN
          A Slayer was sent?
                
The Priest hesitates to answer.  Buffy looks up from
the photo. 
 
                     PRIEST 
          Oui.  Chloe.  She was sent last night.  
          She has not returned since.
               (beat)
          Her family is getting worried by the 
          hour.  It won't be long before 
          authorities investigate and most likely 
          find nothing and declare the case closed 
          like the others.
 
                     THE MAN
          Perhaps.  Her Watcher?
                
                     PRIEST
          Sober, luckily.  He blames himself.  Do 
          you think it is too late?
 
                     THE MAN 
          Won't be a problem.  Have faith, Father.  
          We'd better get started.
                
                     PRIEST
          God go with you.
                
EXT.  LIMOUSINE - NIGHT
 
The man climbs out of the limo.  He turns around.  It
is 
JEHONAS, looking not a day older or younger.  He moves
off. 

AT THE BACK OF THE LIMO

Jehonas pops open the trunk, brings out A LARGE SUIT
CARRIER.  
He slams down the trunk, puts the luggage over. 
Jehonas 
unzips it, revealing an assortment of GUNS, high-tech 
weapons, stakes of silver, gold and wood, strapped
inside.  
He zips it back up.

Light snowfall starting to come down.  He adjusts the
collar 
of his long coat, starts across the street with Buffy.
 
EXT.  CHURCH - NIGHT
 
A once exemplary church, now boarded up, neglected. 
Gothic 
in style, it stands with deserted brownstones and
empty lots 
of rubble as neighbors.  Ancient, vaguely wolf-like
GARGOYLES 
high up stare down at Jehonas and Buffy moving up the
stairs.

BELOW, they reach the double brazen doors.

                     BUFFY
          What's his deal?  It's like he hasn't 
          seen a girl in years.

                     JEHONAS
          He hasn't.

The limo starts up and leaves.

Jehonas pulls open the door, revealing darkness.  They
both 
disappear inside.

INT.  CORRIDOR - DIMLY LIT - NIGHT
 
Footsteps ECHOING in the b.g.  

Jehonas appears into frame, stops before another door,
pushes 
it open.  He and Buffy enter from the lobby into the
front of 
the church.  A huge-ass church.  Shafts of colored
light 
needle through the holes in the pieces of wood and
cloth that 
cover the broken stained glass windows.
 
Jehonas walks down the center aisle between
deteriorated 
pews.  Rats run from one side to the other, disturbed
by the 
sudden intrusion.
 
Buffy clicks on her flashlight, shines the light from
one 
side to the other, taking in the sight.

                     JEHONAS
          13th Century Gothic.  Many of the gypsies 
          and other so-called heretic religions 
          escaped the Inquisition by fleeing into 
          sympathizing churches like this.
               (beat)
          No doubt, vampires of today still use 
          this church for the same purpose.

Buffy nods silently.

                     JEHONAS
          Underneath the floors of the church are 
          the catacombs of Rochereau.  The tunnels 
          connect to the sewer networks of Paris.

                     BUFFY
          A good way to run and hide.

                     JEHONAS
          Yes.

Jehonas stops before a rather barren altar.  To the
right, at 
the top of the altar stairs, there is a stone statue
of a 
saint with his arms outstretched, welcoming.

Buffy shines her light at the statue.  The life-size
saint is 
covered in spider-webs.  Tiny spiders crawl across his
eyes, 
which look down on Jehonas and Buffy.

                     JEHONAS
          Saint Aquinas.  Philosopher.  Theologian.  
          Patron of schools and universities.  A 
          man of many skills.

Buffy shines the flashlight against the back altar
wall, 
revealing a wooden carving of Christ crucified.

                     BUFFY
          Is this still his house, even when no one 
          comes anymore?

                     JEHONAS
          Of course, Buffy.

He watches her move the beam of light around.

                     JEHONAS
          Do you believe in God?

Buffy shrugs.

                     JEHONAS
          Let me ask you something else.  Why are 
          you here?  With me.  You are in the 
          Lord's house remember.  Answer honestly.

Buffy rolls her eyes, going into a routine.

                     BUFFY
          It couldn't hurt if you had a little 
          back-up, right?

                     JEHONAS
          Yes, you told me that in New York, a year 
          ago.  This is Paris.

                     BUFFY
          Yeah, I know.  But you invited me to 
          come, remember that?  and this isn't 
          something I get offered a lot.

                     JEHONAS
          Slaying?

                     BUFFY
          No, going out of the country.  I wanted 
          to hang with you, and besides, I'm 
          learning 13th Century Gothic history, 
          right?  Learning is a good thing.

Buffy points to the statue.  A wry smile spreads
across 
Jehonas' face, nods.

He shrugs off his long coat with casual grace. 
Underneath is 
his sleeveless 6-Point Kevlar vest.

                     BUFFY
          What?  You have that expression again.

Jehonas drops back to his inscrutable face.

                     JEHONAS
          What expression?

                     BUFFY
          That thing you're doing.

                     JEHONAS
          Taking off my coat?

Jehonas places his longcoat over an upturned bench.

                     BUFFY
          No.  Yes.  I know that face.  Whatever 
          you're thinking, that's not it.

                     JEHONAS
               (pauses to think)
          That could hurt a man.

                     BUFFY
          Stop that.  That's not what I meant.
               (defensive)
          Wait a minute, what are you thinking?

                     JEHONAS
          I like you a lot, Buffy.  You're a good 
          kid.  Do you find it disconcerting?

                     BUFFY
          Well, no.  I just...oh, nevermind.

Buffy spins away from him, taking off her own coat.

Something distracts Jehonas.  His back to her.  His
attention 
focused to the floor.  Placing the carrier bag on the
altar, 
he kneels down.

TIGHT ON JEHONAS, his eyes, careful and feral, are
working 
over the feint DRAG MARKS and FOOTPRINTS from the
dust.  
Except the footprints are odd.  Bestial.

He adjusts his position, following the tracks under
Buffy and 
to the darkness beyond.

                     JEHONAS
          Footprints, Buffy, leading deeper into 
          the church.

                     BUFFY
          Usual MO?

                     JEHONAS
          No blood.  Victim may have been 
          unconscious.  Check out the prints.

Buffy crouches down with Jehonas.

                     BUFFY
          Whoa, this looks absolutely funky.

                     JEHONAS
               (sniffs)
          Yes.  There's something different.

Jehonas stands, perplexed, stares at the church.  

                     BUFFY
          Werebat?  Like the ones from that Monge 
          Place?

                     JEHONAS
          I can't tell.  The edges are too feint.  
          And it's Place Monge.

He unzips the bag and pulls out a sleek black
high-powered 
HUNTING CROSSBOW.  He flips a switch and the bow ARMS
swing 
out with metallic greasy smoothness, locking into
place.  He 
tosses it to Buffy.  

                     BUFFY
          Uh, no.  Shotgun.

                     JEHONAS
               (chuckles)
          Nice try.

                     BUFFY
          Shotgun.

Jehonas just smiles, goes through the bag.

                     BUFFY
          We've been at this, what, for like a year 
          and you still don't trust me with a gun?

                     JEHONAS
          A shotgun, and a gun, are two very 
          different weapons.

                     BUFFY
          Whatever.  I know about the whole recoil 
          thing.  I heard your schpeel.  But 
          seriously I think the vampire community 
          is making headways into the 20th century 
          while the Slayers hang back with stakes 
          and crossbows.  That is so not cool.  So.  
          Shotgun.

Jehonas rolls it through his mind.

                     JEHONAS
          Who am I to argue with conventional 
          Slayer wisdom.

He pulls out a sawed-off 12-GAUGE BROWNING
LEVER-ACTION 
SHOTGUN.  He twirls the shotgun, a la Terminator,
chambering 
a round and hands it to her.

An expression of sublime delight fills her face as she
eyes 
the piece.

                     JEHONAS
          Just watch where you point it.

He goes back to his bag, pulls out DUAL RUGER P85s. 
He slaps 
in a fresh clip in each one, chambers a round.  Fluids

graceful and mechanical.  Next.  His MAC-10 SMG from
Slayers.  
Next.  He straps a bandoleer of STAKES around his left
thigh.  
Next.  His SWORD, the blade of Jehonas, sheathed into
a back 
scabbard.

He turns back to Buffy who is squatting, lacing up her
boots.  
His eyes drop down to her behind, perfectly shaped
under 
tight fitting pants.

Jehonas shifts his eyes away.  Buffy tucks her hair
behind a 
ear, looks up at him.  She notices his tongue rolling
against 
the inside of his cheek.

                     BUFFY
          Did you eat?

She does an injection motion with her hand.

                     JEHONAS
          Yes.  No underwear tonight?

                     BUFFY
               (impish grin)
          What's wrong with that?

                     JEHONAS
          Nothing. 

                     BUFFY
          It gets in the way when I kick...

                     JEHONAS
               (holding up hand)
          All right.  You women.  We ready? 

                     BUFFY
          Let's book.

He hands her a gold chrome COLT 1911 handgun with
holster, 
which she takes and slings over her shoulder.  Buffy
notices 
Jehonas still looking at her, almost a proud look. 
They 
share a moment.  Two hunters, mutual camaraderie in
their 
work.

Jehonas nods to the darkness, and they leave.

INT.  STAIRWAY - NIGHT
 
Jehonas and Buffy move down the giant stairs without
so much 
of a noise, keeping their backs to the wall.  Their
eyes 
alert, scanning the surroundings.  Both minds now on
the 
hunt.

At the bottom of the stairs --

They both turn to a doorway leading into a corridor of

perpetual darkness.

INT.  CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Jehonas and Buffy cat-step down the hallway.  They
stop 
before another door.

INT.  CELLAR ROOM - NIGHT
 
Jehonas peers into the room.  Silence.  The place was
once a 
study, but now a complete mess.  Decaying bookshelves
lying 
on top of each other, wrecked from moisture.  Broken 
furniture, some graffiti on walls, smashed light
bulbs.
 
He moves to one specific bookcase, a giant one set
against 
the wall.  He looks down --
 
ON THE FLOOR 

Scrape marks on the dusty ground.
 
Jehonas and Buffy both push the bookcase on one side. 
It 
rotates loudly, stone grinding on stone.  They look
in, more 
darkness.
 
INT.  CATACOMBS - NIGHT
 
Jehonas and Buffy, quite stoic, climb down the ancient

stairs, watching left and right.  Jehonas reaches over
his 
shoulder and slowly unsheathes his slender sword.  The
SOUNDS 
of static drip of water echoing in the b.g.  Buffy
goes wide 
eyed as soon as she's at the foot of the stairs.

                     BUFFY
          Oh, my God.

They stare at two large tunnels which lead into a
twisting, 
intestinal maze, lined from floor to ceiling with
HUMAN 
SKULLS and FEMURS.  The bones form the building blocks
of the 
tunnel walls and are arranged in various patterns --
from 
crucifixes to Masonic pyramids and even pentagrams. 
We see 
where the drips were coming from.  Ground water
seeping from 
the ceilings and walls, dripping over the eroded,
crumbling 
bones.

                     JEHONAS
          After the revolution, the Paris 
          cemeteries overflowed.  Many dug up the 
          old bodies of their relatives and brought 
          them here.  Seven thousand people.  
          Mostly very poor.  I helped a thirteen 
          year old girl bury her father here many 
          years ago.

                     BUFFY
          Pretty stylish digs for a bunch of 
          paupers.

                     JEHONAS
          Of course.  They are French.

He leads her --

                                                     
CUT TO:

DEEPER INSIDE,

Jehonas moving at the point, Buffy a few paces behind.
 She's 
keeping careful watch over her shoulder, gripping the
pump of 
her Browning tighter.  They pass an intersection,
keeping the  
straight path.

Then suddenly --

SOMETHING BIG, a flash of fur, sprinting across the
corridor 
behind Buffy.  Hardly a sound.  But Buffy feels that
hair 
tingling behind the back of her neck.  She looks back.
 
Nothing.

TIGHT ON JEHONAS, scanning the floor when --

HIS HEAD SUDDENLY TURNS.  He listens to something we
cannot 
begin to hear.  A momentary pause.

                     BUFFY
               (hushed)
          Did you hear that, too? 

Jehonas doesn't respond, and they both make a left. 
Just as 
they take a few steps down the tunnel.

He shoots out his arm, stopping Buffy.  He listens.

He turns his head, glancing behind them, searching.

HIS POV: Nothing but darkness down the tunnel.  Water 
dripping as loud as lead being dropped into a bucket. 
Rats 
SQUEEKING louder than their size would hint.

His senses are amplified many times more than a human.

                     BUFFY
          What is it?

                     JEHONAS
          It's been a while since I walked down 
          these tunnels.  Simple nostalgia.  Let's 
          go.

He turns back.

At the end of corridor, Jehonas notices a wooden door
there 
partially opened.  Twirling his blade once, he inches
closer, 
trying to peek inside. 

Buffy wrinkles her nose.  Jehonas gives her a hand
signal, to 
be ready. 
 
He slowly pushes open the door.

INT.  CATACOMBS - ROOM - NIGHT
 
Entering the room, the first thing they see horrifies
them. 

THEIR POV: BODIES.  Nearly a dozen, torn and mangled, 
bloodied, strewn all about the room.  Lifeless eyes
watching 
back at Jehonas and Buffy where they stand.  Jehonas
starts 
to move among the corpses.  Their flesh, purple and
crimson 
red.  Some exposed to the open air causing rot.

                     BUFFY
          Is it me, or is this starting to look not 
          vampire?

                     JEHONAS
               (nodding)
          The Priest was wrong.  I have seen this 
          before.

Jehonas crouches down next to a body of AN OBESE MAN,
the 
insides of the chest cavity exposed completely.  It's
like 
something took two handfuls of his lungs and ripped
them out.

                     JEHONAS
          I saw a guy once in Milan...he died like 
          this.  The vampire council believed it 
          was the work of Garou.

                     BUFFY
          Grow, what?

                     JEHONAS
          Werewolves.  Explains that smell.

                     BUFFY
          No big deal.  They're bad.  They're 
          evil.  We can kick their butts.

Jehonas starts working on the corpse, noting the
PURPLISH 
coloring of the wound area.

                     JEHONAS
          This man died not too long ago.
               (beat)
          Have you hunted werewolves?

                     BUFFY
          Uh, sort of, but he turned out okay, in 
          some doggish way.

                     JEHONAS
          Good.

He looks around the room, grim.

                     JEHONAS
          Chloe isn't here.  We can hope she might 
          still be...

An UNEARTHLY HOWL echoes through the tunnels.  Buffy
snaps 
alert, spins to the door.

Jehonas stands up straight.  Another eerie HOWL echoes

through the maze. They both look further into the
tunnel and 
see A PAIR OF GLOWING YELLOW EYES staring back at them
out of 
the darkness.  We see the dim outline of the massive
wolf-
like beast.

                     JEHONAS
          The culprit.

With a horrible ROAR, the eyes lunge at them.  Buffy
lets 
loose the Browning -- BOOM! -- just as the beast comes

crashing in.  The force of the blast blows the beast
back 
through the door.

Another beast tears around the corner, SNARLS.  Buffy
jacks 
around the shotgun fast, fires again.

The beast manages to spin away, avoiding the blast. 
The 
shell reduces the corner into a mess of concrete and
dust.

Jehonas breaks into a sprint, past Buffy.

                     JEHONAS
          Don't fall behind.

He turns the corner with his sword ready to slash. 
The beast 
already gone, making tracks down.  The padding of
bestial 
feet growing distant.

Jehonas gives chase.  Buffy is trying to keep up while

reloading her shotgun.

He emerges into an opening.  A sudden noise to his
right.  
Jehonas slashes at the direction of the sound in one
swing 
with his sword.  The attacker adjusts just as fast,
stops and 
backs away a fraction of a second away from the blade.

The BEAST rears up onto its hind legs for another
attack, 
jumps at Jehonas but he moves so lightning fast we
don't even 
have time to register his blade coming upwards,
slashing 
deep.

The beast HOWLS in pain.  Jehonas spins the blade,
slashes 
again, and AGAIN in precise cuts.  The beast falls
backward 
dead.

Buffy jumps in behind him and fires her shotgun just
as 
another beast tries to tackle Jehonas from behind. 
BOOM!  
She blows it off screen.

                     BUFFY
          Bad doggie!

                     JEHONAS
          Follow.  There's another.

They take off down the tunnel.  The path is
serpentine, with 
many smaller passages and anterooms off to the sides. 

Jehonas and Buffy move rapidly, turning left and
right, the 
walls behind them becoming a blur.  

They come into the LARGE MAIN ANTECHAMBER, with dozens
of 
huge support pillars.  Jehonas barely catching the
profile of 
the beast before it disappears around a corner.

He gives another hand signal, and they split up, ready
to 
catch the beast on both flanks.

TIGHT ON BUFFY, running, ready to turn another corner
and --

SLAM!  Something barrels into her -- it's a TEENAGE
GIRL.  
Actually, the same girl from the first photo, CHLOE. 
The 
girl's covered in grime, clothes torn.  She backpedals

into a combat stance, breathing hard.  

                     CHLOE
               (screaming)
          Qui êtes-vous?

Buffy pulls back her shotgun.

                     BUFFY
          Um...Je m'appelle Buffy. 

Jehonas slides into view behind Chloe.

                     BUFFY
          Je suis le...um, help here.

Chloe sees her eyes, spins around to the man.  She
visibly 
relaxes.

                     JEHONAS
          Chloe?

                     CHLOE
          Le Professeur!
               (heavy accent)
          And American Slayer?

                     JEHONAS
          Où est le monstre?

                     CHLOE
          It took off down the tunnel.  I went the 
          other way.  There are four in the pack.

                     JEHONAS
          There's only one now.  You speak English?

                     CHLOE
          Oui.  A little.

                     JEHONAS
          Follow then.

He races off.

 


__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Make a great connection at Yahoo! Personals.
http://personals.yahoo.com
  ----------

                  ONCE UPON A TIME IN PARIS

by Bullions

FADE IN:

EXT.  CEMETARY - NIGHT

Wind whistling.
 
CUT TO a stone effigy of the angel of death, wings spread 
wide, half-smile on her face, with a cloak of snow. 
 
PULL BACK to reveal a large obelisk grave marker the statue 
is perched on. 
 
PAN FURTHER BACK. 
 
The entire yard is blanketed in white from an earlier storm.  
Morbid winter wonderland.
 
Then, the soft SOUNDS of snow being crunched.  Someone is 
approaching.  A large shadow falls over the stone with the 
angel.  Whoever it is stares at the statue, then moves away.
 
WHIP PAN following the man in a low angle view.  His legs 
passing by numerous manicured headstones, markers of all 
kinds, arriving at the cemetery gates.

PAN UP AND AROUND past his body, to see the man from behind.  
He is tall, powerful build under the long coat flowing 
against the wind.  His stature is impeccable, unmoving 
against the cold breath of nature.  He pushes open the outer 
gates.  It CREAKS, disturbing silence.

EXT.  STREETSIDE - NIGHT

The man walks out of the gate, to BUFFY waiting.  It's 
freezing out in Paris.  Ice puddles along the curb.  Ground 
so cold, smoke rises from the cement and gravel.  Buffy 
exhales a mist, brushes her arm briskly.  Her nose giving off 
a rosy hue.

                     THE MAN
          You okay?

                     BUFFY
          Superbe.  Et vous?

                     THE MAN
          Peachy. 

A church bell rings from a distance, resonating.  This draws 
Buffy's attention to --

HER POV: A large white cross on the church steeple standing 
against the rolling gray clouds.

BACK ON BUFFY, pulling her leather jacket tighter around her 
body.  Both of them wear predominately black.

                     BUFFY
          So what are we waiting for?

                     THE MAN
          Our contact.  He is late.

Buffy nods, rocks back and forth on the inch-high heels of 
her shoes.

                     THE MAN
          You sure you don't want my coat?  Seeing 
          how you're practically naked in front of 
          me.

                     BUFFY
          I'm good.  Thanks.

                     THE MAN
          Sure?

                     BUFFY
               (hard)
          Yes, Dad.

                     THE MAN
          All right.  You sneeze, you suffer.

A long sleek STRETCH LIMO cruises up near the entrance of the 
cemetery.  It pulls to a stop.  The man motions Buffy to climb in.

INT.  LIMOUSINE - NIGHT

Inside, a PRIEST, early 40s, is sitting, looking stressed.  
He's dressed in his "civilian" clothing, wears his hair short 
and proper. 
 
The door opens, a shadow comes inside and a sudden gust of 
cool wind.  The Priest visibly shudders, both from man and 
nature.  Buffy drops herself in a seat across from him.  The 
Priest is surprised by her appearance, stares.

                     PRIEST
          Oh, I did not expect company.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          My apprentice.

The Priest looks even more confused.

                     PRIEST
          Ah oui, I see.  An apprentice...

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          Problem?

                     PRIEST
          No.  Not at all.  This is unexpected.

                     BUFFY
          You guys know each other?

                     PRIEST
          We do.  For some years.

                     THE MAN
          He has connections with the Camarilla 
          society, Buffy.  It helps to have someone 
          work in the day, especially a person of 
          his position.
  
                     PRIEST
          For better or for worst.
               (to the man)
          Again, I would like to express my 
          sincerest gratitude for you coming to us.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          I'm here, Father.  You have nothing to 
          worry about.  This place is it.

The Priest looks out the window.  A sullen nod.

                     PRIEST
          This was Brother Pierre's church.  He had 
          a congregation of his own several years 
          ago.  There were some problems.  The 
          church has been deserted since.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          What sort of problems?

                     PRIEST
          We aren't sure exactly what happened to 
          him, only theories, or what became of him 
          after.  He disappeared.

The Priest leans forward to pick up a file.  The action draws 
him close to Buffy.  He smiles uncomfortably.

                     PRIEST
          Excusez-moi.

Buffy scoots to the side.

                     THE MAN (O.S.)
          Brother Pierre?

                     PRIEST
          He was an excellent priest, devoted in 
          every way.

He opens up the file, pulls out 8-inch by 10-inch glossies.

A HAND appears, accepts each photo one by one.

The first one is of a YOUNG GIRL, no more than late teens, an 
angel, smiling as if the sun never sets.  Each other one, 
various blow-ups of other people.

                     PRIEST
          Those are the missing victims of the past 
          four months.  The first photo is Chloe.

The photos are rotated between the three.

                     PRIEST
               (indicating a mugshot of a man)
          That is Brother Pierre.

                     THE MAN
          A Slayer was sent?
                
The Priest hesitates to answer.  Buffy looks up from the photo. 
 
                     PRIEST 
          Oui.  Chloe.  She was sent last night.  
          She has not returned since.
               (beat)
          Her family is getting worried by the 
          hour.  It won't be long before 
          authorities investigate and most likely 
          find nothing and declare the case closed 
          like the others.
 
                     THE MAN
          Perhaps.  Her Watcher?
                
                     PRIEST
          Sober, luckily.  He blames himself.  Do 
          you think it is too late?
 
                     THE MAN 
          Won't be a problem.  Have faith, Father.  
          We'd better get started.
                
                     PRIEST
          God go with you.
                
EXT.  LIMOUSINE - NIGHT
 
The man climbs out of the limo.  He turns around.  It is 
JEHONAS, looking not a day older or younger.  He moves off. 

AT THE BACK OF THE LIMO

Jehonas pops open the trunk, brings out A LARGE SUIT CARRIER.  
He slams down the trunk, puts the luggage over.  Jehonas 
unzips it, revealing an assortment of GUNS, high-tech 
weapons, stakes of silver, gold and wood, strapped inside.  
He zips it back up.

Light snowfall starting to come down.  He adjusts the collar 
of his long coat, starts across the street with Buffy.
 
EXT.  CHURCH - NIGHT
 
A once exemplary church, now boarded up, neglected.  Gothic 
in style, it stands with deserted brownstones and empty lots 
of rubble as neighbors.  Ancient, vaguely wolf-like GARGOYLES 
high up stare down at Jehonas and Buffy moving up the stairs.

BELOW, they reach the double brazen doors.

                     BUFFY
          What's his deal?  It's like he hasn't 
          seen a girl in years.

                     JEHONAS
          He hasn't.

The limo starts up and leaves.

Jehonas pulls open the door, revealing darkness.  They both 
disappear inside.

INT.  CORRIDOR - DIMLY LIT - NIGHT
 
Footsteps ECHOING in the b.g.  

Jehonas appears into frame, stops before another door, pushes 
it open.  He and Buffy enter from the lobby into the front of 
the church.  A huge-ass church.  Shafts of colored light 
needle through the holes in the pieces of wood and cloth that 
cover the broken stained glass windows.
 
Jehonas walks down the center aisle between deteriorated 
pews.  Rats run from one side to the other, disturbed by the 
sudden intrusion.
 
Buffy clicks on her flashlight, shines the light from one 
side to the other, taking in the sight.

                     JEHONAS
          13th Century Gothic.  Many of the gypsies 
          and other so-called heretic religions 
          escaped the Inquisition by fleeing into 
          sympathizing churches like this.
               (beat)
          No doubt, vampires of today still use 
          this church for the same purpose.

Buffy nods silently.

                     JEHONAS
          Underneath the floors of the church are 
          the catacombs of Rochereau.  The tunnels 
          connect to the sewer networks of Paris.

                     BUFFY
          A good way to run and hide.

                     JEHONAS
          Yes.

Jehonas stops before a rather barren altar.  To the right, at 
the top of the altar stairs, there is a stone statue of a 
saint with his arms outstretched, welcoming.

Buffy shines her light at the statue.  The life-size saint is 
covered in spider-webs.  Tiny spiders crawl across his eyes, 
which look down on Jehonas and Buffy.

                     JEHONAS
          Saint Aquinas.  Philosopher.  Theologian.  
          Patron of schools and universities.  A 
          man of many skills.

Buffy shines the flashlight against the back altar wall, 
revealing a wooden carving of Christ crucified.

                     BUFFY
          Is this still his house, even when no one 
          comes anymore?

                     JEHONAS
          Of course, Buffy.

He watches her move the beam of light around.

                     JEHONAS
          Do you believe in God?

Buffy shrugs.

                     JEHONAS
          Let me ask you something else.  Why are 
          you here?  With me.  You are in the 
          Lord's house remember.  Answer honestly.

Buffy rolls her eyes, going into a routine.

                     BUFFY
          It couldn't hurt if you had a little 
          back-up, right?

                     JEHONAS
          Yes, you told me that in New York, a year 
          ago.  This is Paris.

                     BUFFY
          Yeah, I know.  But you invited me to 
          come, remember that?  and this isn't 
          something I get offered a lot.

                     JEHONAS
          Slaying?

                     BUFFY
          No, going out of the country.  I wanted 
          to hang with you, and besides, I'm 
          learning 13th Century Gothic history, 
          right?  Learning is a good thing.

Buffy points to the statue.  A wry smile spreads across 
Jehonas' face, nods.

He shrugs off his long coat with casual grace.  Underneath is 
his sleeveless 6-Point Kevlar vest.

                     BUFFY
          What?  You have that expression again.

Jehonas drops back to his inscrutable face.

                     JEHONAS
          What expression?

                     BUFFY
          That thing you're doing.

                     JEHONAS
          Taking off my coat?

Jehonas places his longcoat over an upturned bench.

                     BUFFY
          No.  Yes.  I know that face.  Whatever 
          you're thinking, that's not it.

                     JEHONAS
               (pauses to think)
          That could hurt a man.

                     BUFFY
          Stop that.  That's not what I meant.
               (defensive)
          Wait a minute, what are you thinking?

                     JEHONAS
          I like you a lot, Buffy.  You're a good 
          kid.  Do you find it disconcerting?

                     BUFFY
          Well, no.  I just...oh, nevermind.

Buffy spins away from him, taking off her own coat.

Something distracts Jehonas.  His back to her.  His attention 
focused to the floor.  Placing the carrier bag on the altar, 
he kneels down.

TIGHT ON JEHONAS, his eyes, careful and feral, are working 
over the feint DRAG MARKS and FOOTPRINTS from the dust.  
Except the footprints are odd.  Bestial.

He adjusts his position, following the tracks under Buffy and 
to the darkness beyond.

                     JEHONAS
          Footprints, Buffy, leading deeper into 
          the church.

                     BUFFY
          Usual MO?

                     JEHONAS
          No blood.  Victim may have been 
          unconscious.  Check out the prints.

Buffy crouches down with Jehonas.

                     BUFFY
          Whoa, this looks absolutely funky.

                     JEHONAS
               (sniffs)
          Yes.  There's something different.

Jehonas stands, perplexed, stares at the church.  

                     BUFFY
          Werebat?  Like the ones from that Monge 
          Place?

                     JEHONAS
          I can't tell.  The edges are too feint.  
          And it's Place Monge.

He unzips the bag and pulls out a sleek black high-powered 
HUNTING CROSSBOW.  He flips a switch and the bow ARMS swing 
out with metallic greasy smoothness, locking into place.  He 
tosses it to Buffy.  

                     BUFFY
          Uh, no.  Shotgun.

                     JEHONAS
               (chuckles)
          Nice try.

                     BUFFY
          Shotgun.

Jehonas just smiles, goes through the bag.

                     BUFFY
          We've been at this, what, for like a year 
          and you still don't trust me with a gun?

                     JEHONAS
          A shotgun, and a gun, are two very 
          different weapons.

                     BUFFY
          Whatever.  I know about the whole recoil 
          thing.  I heard your schpeel.  But 
          seriously I think the vampire community 
          is making headways into the 20th century 
          while the Slayers hang back with stakes 
          and crossbows.  That is so not cool.  So.  
          Shotgun.

Jehonas rolls it through his mind.

                     JEHONAS
          Who am I to argue with conventional 
          Slayer wisdom.

He pulls out a sawed-off 12-GAUGE BROWNING LEVER-ACTION 
SHOTGUN.  He twirls the shotgun, a la Terminator, chambering 
a round and hands it to her.

An expression of sublime delight fills her face as she eyes 
the piece.

                     JEHONAS
          Just watch where you point it.

He goes back to his bag, pulls out DUAL RUGER P85s.  He slaps 
in a fresh clip in each one, chambers a round.  Fluids 
graceful and mechanical.  Next.  His MAC-10 SMG from Slayers.  
Next.  He straps a bandoleer of STAKES around his left thigh.  
Next.  His SWORD, the blade of Jehonas, sheathed into a back 
scabbard.

He turns back to Buffy who is squatting, lacing up her boots.  
His eyes drop down to her behind, perfectly shaped under 
tight fitting pants.

Jehonas shifts his eyes away.  Buffy tucks her hair behind a 
ear, looks up at him.  She notices his tongue rolling against 
the inside of his cheek.

                     BUFFY
          Did you eat?

She does an injection motion with her hand.

                     JEHONAS
          Yes.  No underwear tonight?

                     BUFFY
               (impish grin)
          What's wrong with that?

                     JEHONAS
          Nothing. 

                     BUFFY
          It gets in the way when I kick...

                     JEHONAS
               (holding up hand)
          All right.  You women.  We ready? 

                     BUFFY
          Let's book.

He hands her a gold chrome COLT 1911 handgun with holster, 
which she takes and slings over her shoulder.  Buffy notices 
Jehonas still looking at her, almost a proud look.  They 
share a moment.  Two hunters, mutual camaraderie in their 
work.

Jehonas nods to the darkness, and they leave.

INT.  STAIRWAY - NIGHT
 
Jehonas and Buffy move down the giant stairs without so much 
of a noise, keeping their backs to the wall.  Their eyes 
alert, scanning the surroundings.  Both minds now on the 
hunt.

At the bottom of the stairs --

They both turn to a doorway leading into a corridor of 
perpetual darkness.

INT.  CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Jehonas and Buffy cat-step down the hallway.  They stop 
before another door.

INT.  CELLAR ROOM - NIGHT
 
Jehonas peers into the room.  Silence.  The place was once a 
study, but now a complete mess.  Decaying bookshelves lying 
on top of each other, wrecked from moisture.  Broken 
furniture, some graffiti on walls, smashed light bulbs.
 
He moves to one specific bookcase, a giant one set against 
the wall.  He looks down --
 
ON THE FLOOR 

Scrape marks on the dusty ground.
 
Jehonas and Buffy both push the bookcase on one side.  It 
rotates loudly, stone grinding on stone.  They look in, more 
darkness.
 
INT.  CATACOMBS - NIGHT
 
Jehonas and Buffy, quite stoic, climb down the ancient 
stairs, watching left and right.  Jehonas reaches over his 
shoulder and slowly unsheathes his slender sword.  The SOUNDS 
of static drip of water echoing in the b.g.  Buffy goes wide 
eyed as soon as she's at the foot of the stairs.

                     BUFFY
          Oh, my God.

They stare at two large tunnels which lead into a twisting, 
intestinal maze, lined from floor to ceiling with HUMAN 
SKULLS and FEMURS.  The bones form the building blocks of the 
tunnel walls and are arranged in various patterns -- from 
crucifixes to Masonic pyramids and even pentagrams.  We see 
where the drips were coming from.  Ground water seeping from 
the ceilings and walls, dripping over the eroded, crumbling 
bones.

                     JEHONAS
          After the revolution, the Paris 
          cemeteries overflowed.  Many dug up the 
          old bodies of their relatives and brought 
          them here.  Seven thousand people.  
          Mostly very poor.  I helped a thirteen 
          year old girl bury her father here many 
          years ago.

                     BUFFY
          Pretty stylish digs for a bunch of 
          paupers.

                     JEHONAS
          Of course.  They are French.

He leads her --

                                                      CUT TO:

DEEPER INSIDE,

Jehonas moving at the point, Buffy a few paces behind.  She's 
keeping careful watch over her shoulder, gripping the pump of 
her Browning tighter.  They pass an intersection, keeping the  
straight path.

Then suddenly --

SOMETHING BIG, a flash of fur, sprinting across the corridor 
behind Buffy.  Hardly a sound.  But Buffy feels that hair 
tingling behind the back of her neck.  She looks back.  
Nothing.

TIGHT ON JEHONAS, scanning the floor when --

HIS HEAD SUDDENLY TURNS.  He listens to something we cannot 
begin to hear.  A momentary pause.

                     BUFFY
               (hushed)
          Did you hear that, too? 

Jehonas doesn't respond, and they both make a left.  Just as 
they take a few steps down the tunnel.

He shoots out his arm, stopping Buffy.  He listens.

He turns his head, glancing behind them, searching.

HIS POV: Nothing but darkness down the tunnel.  Water 
dripping as loud as lead being dropped into a bucket.  Rats 
SQUEEKING louder than their size would hint.

His senses are amplified many times more than a human.

                     BUFFY
          What is it?

                     JEHONAS
          It's been a while since I walked down 
          these tunnels.  Simple nostalgia.  Let's 
          go.

He turns back.

At the end of corridor, Jehonas notices a wooden door there 
partially opened.  Twirling his blade once, he inches closer, 
trying to peek inside. 

Buffy wrinkles her nose.  Jehonas gives her a hand signal, to 
be ready. 
 
He slowly pushes open the door.

INT.  CATACOMBS - ROOM - NIGHT
 
Entering the room, the first thing they see horrifies them. 

THEIR POV: BODIES.  Nearly a dozen, torn and mangled, 
bloodied, strewn all about the room.  Lifeless eyes watching 
back at Jehonas and Buffy where they stand.  Jehonas starts 
to move among the corpses.  Their flesh, purple and crimson 
red.  Some exposed to the open air causing rot.

                     BUFFY
          Is it me, or is this starting to look not 
          vampire?

                     JEHONAS
               (nodding)
          The Priest was wrong.  I have seen this 
          before.

Jehonas crouches down next to a body of AN OBESE MAN, the 
insides of the chest cavity exposed completely.  It's like 
something took two handfuls of his lungs and ripped them out.

                     JEHONAS
          I saw a guy once in Milan...he died like 
          this.  The vampire council believed it 
          was the work of Garou.

                     BUFFY
          Grow, what?

                     JEHONAS
          Werewolves.  Explains that smell.

                     BUFFY
          No big deal.  They're bad.  They're 
          evil.  We can kick their butts.

Jehonas starts working on the corpse, noting the PURPLISH 
coloring of the wound area.

                     JEHONAS
          This man died not too long ago.
               (beat)
          Have you hunted werewolves?

                     BUFFY
          Uh, sort of, but he turned out okay, in 
          some doggish way.

                     JEHONAS
          Good.

He looks around the room, grim.

                     JEHONAS
          Chloe isn't here.  We can hope she might 
          still be...

An UNEARTHLY HOWL echoes through the tunnels.  Buffy snaps 
alert, spins to the door.

Jehonas stands up straight.  Another eerie HOWL echoes 
through the maze. They both look further into the tunnel and 
see A PAIR OF GLOWING YELLOW EYES staring back at them out of 
the darkness.  We see the dim outline of the massive wolf-
like beast.

                     JEHONAS
          The culprit.

With a horrible ROAR, the eyes lunge at them.  Buffy lets 
loose the Browning -- BOOM! -- just as the beast comes 
crashing in.  The force of the blast blows the beast back 
through the door.

Another beast tears around the corner, SNARLS.  Buffy jacks 
around the shotgun fast, fires again.

The beast manages to spin away, avoiding the blast.  The 
shell reduces the corner into a mess of concrete and dust.

Jehonas breaks into a sprint, past Buffy.

                     JEHONAS
          Don't fall behind.

He turns the corner with his sword ready to slash.  The beast 
already gone, making tracks down.  The padding of bestial 
feet growing distant.

Jehonas gives chase.  Buffy is trying to keep up while 
reloading her shotgun.

He emerges into an opening.  A sudden noise to his right.  
Jehonas slashes at the direction of the sound in one swing 
with his sword.  The attacker adjusts just as fast, stops and 
backs away a fraction of a second away from the blade.

The BEAST rears up onto its hind legs for another attack, 
jumps at Jehonas but he moves so lightning fast we don't even 
have time to register his blade coming upwards, slashing 
deep.

The beast HOWLS in pain.  Jehonas spins the blade, slashes 
again, and AGAIN in precise cuts.  The beast falls backward 
dead.

Buffy jumps in behind him and fires her shotgun just as 
another beast tries to tackle Jehonas from behind.  BOOM!  
She blows it off screen.

                     BUFFY
          Bad doggie!

                     JEHONAS
          Follow.  There's another.

They take off down the tunnel.  The path is serpentine, with 
many smaller passages and anterooms off to the sides.  
Jehonas and Buffy move rapidly, turning left and right, the 
walls behind them becoming a blur.  

They come into the LARGE MAIN ANTECHAMBER, with dozens of 
huge support pillars.  Jehonas barely catching the profile of 
the beast before it disappears around a corner.

He gives another hand signal, and they split up, ready to 
catch the beast on both flanks.

TIGHT ON BUFFY, running, ready to turn another corner and --

SLAM!  Something barrels into her -- it's a TEENAGE GIRL.  
Actually, the same girl from the first photo, CHLOE.  The 
girl's covered in grime, clothes torn.  She backpedals 
into a combat stance, breathing hard.  

                     CHLOE
               (screaming)
          Qui êtes-vous?

Buffy pulls back her shotgun.

                     BUFFY
          Um...Je m'appelle Buffy. 

Jehonas slides into view behind Chloe.

                     BUFFY
          Je suis le...um, help here.

Chloe sees her eyes, spins around to the man.  She visibly 
relaxes.

                     JEHONAS
          Chloe?

                     CHLOE
          Le Professeur!
               (heavy accent)
          And American Slayer?

                     JEHONAS
          Où est le monstre?

                     CHLOE
          It took off down the tunnel.  I went the 
          other way.  There are four in the pack.

                     JEHONAS
          There's only one now.  You speak English?

                     CHLOE
          Oui.  A little.

                     JEHONAS
          Follow then.

He races off.

 
THE END


Author: Bullions (bullions27@yahoo.com)

USE BACK BUTTON

Text file Source (historic): geocities.com/slousu/b

geocities.com/slousu

(to report bad content: archivehelp @ gmail)