We see Jehonas backing up a few steps, transferring all his 
strength to his arms, then lunge forward, using the momentum and 
tossing Buffy out the window like a sack of potatoes.

EXT. HOSPITAL/ROOFTOP PARKING STRUCTURE - NIGHT

Buffy sails across the black sky and lands hard onto the ground, 
rolling a few times, coming to a stop. 

INT. HOSPITAL - AN OFFICE - NIGHT

Police officers rush into the room, to find Jehonas standing at 
the edge of the window. 

TIGHT ON JEHONAS, his hands gripping the sides of the window 
tense and ready. He glances back, smiling, and catapults himself 
off the window into the night. 
 
EXT. HOSPITAL/ROOFTOP PARKING STRUCTURE - NIGHT

Jehonas clears the impossible distance, landing with no more than 
a thud near Buffy's body. He heaves her up and drags her behind a 
structure just as officers with automatics open up on their 
positions. Buffy grips her shoulder, clutching it in pain --

 BUFFY
 (gasping)
 My shoulder -- dislocated --

Jehonas places a hand on her shoulder, another around her elbow 
and without any consideration to discomfort -CRACK!- brutally 
pops it back in place. Buffy SCREAMS again. More bullets splatter 
near them, startling her. She picks up her head, weak.

 BUFFY
 (gasping)
 You -- threw me --

 JEHONAS
 I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle.

Buffy doesn't even hear him. She surrenders to unconsciousness 
and falls into his arms. He scoops her up once more and heads for 
--

HIS '69 OLDSMOBILE 442,

which is parked nearby. Midnight-black. The definitive high-
performance heavy-metal muscle machine with an engine big enough 
to power an Apollo rocket.

INT. JEHONAS' OLDS - NIGHT

Jehonas sets Buffy down in the passenger seat, climbs behind the 
wheel, keys the ignition. The engine ROARS to life, belching 
fumes through the dual exhaust. Jehonas floors it, burning 
serious rubber as the Olds vanishes from sight.

BACK AT THE DEMOLISHED MORGUE WINDOW

as the policemen stare numbly in open-mouthed astonishment.

 CUT TO:

EXT. CITY STREETS - DAWN

Jehonas pilots the Olds down the streets, moving through a series 
of increasingly degenerating neighborhoods, coming at last to the 
sprawling warehouse district.

EXT. ABANDONED FACTORY - DAY

The Olds approaches a mammoth industrial facility that's been 
cordoned off by cyclone fencing and razor wire. Ultra-violet 
floodlights illuminate the area, while an army of security 
cameras keep a watchful eye.

INT. JEHONAS' OLDS - DAY

Jehonas glances at Buffy, silently cursing himself for giving 
into his emotions. He hits a remote secured to the sun visor.

EXT. JEHONAS' OLDS/ABANDONED FACTORY - DAY

A gate grinds open.

We follow the Olds as it cruises around the back of the building, 
heading down a concrete loading ramp. At the bottom of the ramp, 
a heavy iron door rises. Jehonas' Olds disappears into the 
darkness.

INT. ABANDONED FACTORY - INDUSTRIAL ELEVATOR - DAY

More UV lights flicker on. We're in a massive loading elevator 
which HUMS as it ascends, eventually reaching its destination 
with a BOOMING CLANG. The doors at the rear glide open. Jehonas 
guides the Olds out.

INT. ABANDONED FACTORY - WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY

Set up in an old ironworks, the place looks like a cross between 
an auto junkyard and an armory. Equipment is strewn everywhere -- 
lathes, mills, old furnaces, gutted vehicles, an ad hoc surgical 
theater -- all of it jerry-rigged in a brutal, oily-tech. In the 
backdrop, Pink Floyd blaring over speakers and amps.

The Olds pulls to a stop. Jehonas climbs out.

 JEHONAS
 Whistler!!

He opens the passenger door, checks on Buffy.

 JEHONAS
 Whistler!

Sees she's still breathing, he pulls Buffy out, carries her in 
his arms. No response from anyone.

 JEHONAS
 Karen!

A young woman emerges from the worktables beyond. Karen Walker 
(30s, beautiful, brown-haired) in a white lab coat reaches 
Jehonas. She looks over Buffy. We hear the music stop.

 KAREN
 How long?

 JEHONAS
 Not long.

 WHISTLER (O.S.)
 Are we bringing home strays now?

Abraham Whistler (60s) hobbles out of the shadows, leaning 
heavily on a cane. Gimlet-eyed, bitter, his right leg encased in 
a metal brace. Though his face is lined with wrinkles and his 
hair has long since gone gray, we sense he could kick the living 
shit out of any man half his age.

 JEHONAS
 She's been bitten.

 WHISTLER
 You should've killed her, then.

 JEHONAS
 She hasn't turned yet. We can help her.

Jehonas and Whistler stare each other down. Finally, Whistler 
turns and heads over to the operating theater. Karen rushes by to 
grab equipment from nearby.

 WHISTLER
 No promises. You watch her close. She 
 starts to turn, you finish her off --
 (beat)
 -- or I will.

Jehonas nods, lays Buffy down on the operating table. Whistler 
turns on an overhead light. Buffy is sheathed in sweat, ashen. 
She's lost a lot of blood. Karen snaps on a pair of surgical 
gloves, probes the wound in Karen's neck with an antiseptic swab 
-- there's capillary damage around the perimeter of the wound, 
the tissue looks bruised, gangrenous.

 KAREN
 Localized necrosis. She's borderline. 
 Another hour and she'd be well into the 
 change.

Whistler goes to retrieve a small bottle nearby, notices Buffy 
now under better light. He frowns.

 WHISTLER
 Another young one. Who's the culprit?

 JEHONAS
 Quinn.

 WHISTLER
 Frost's little errand boy? Did you get 
 him?

 JEHONAS
 (reluctant beat)
 No. He got away.

 WHISTLER
 Too bad.

Whistler cracks open a smelling salt capsule and waves under 
Buffy's nose. As she starts to stir --

 WHISTLER
 Can you hear me?

Buffy's eyes open wide. She's scared, disoriented --

 BUFFY
 Wha -- ?

 WHISTLER
 You've been bitten by a vampire. We've got
 to try and burn out the venom, just like a
 rattlesnake bite --

Karen reaches for a massive syringe filled with caustic-looking 
fluid. Buffy sees the syringe, resists.

 WHISTLER
 Hold her.

Jehonas forces Buffy back. Karen readies the syringe.

 KAREN
 Listen close, I'm going to inject you with
 an antidote made from allium setivum -- 
 garlic. This is going to hurt. A lot.

Karen sinks the needle into Buffy's neck and depresses the 
plunger. "Hurt" doesn't begin to describe what Buffy experiences 
next. Imagine undergoing childbirth while someone pumps battery 
acid through your veins. Buffy SHRIEKS, her body going into 
uncontrolled paroxysms. The wound on her neck begins to smoke as 
the antidote attacks the poisonous vampire venom. 

Buffy clutches one of the metallic bars on the bed. To Whistler's 
and Karen's astonishment, she bends it out of place. Whistler 
looks up at Jehonas as if asking him a silent question. Jehonas 
nods and looks back down on Buffy. She stares up at Jehonas with 
unflinching intensity, like a child desperately searching for 
assurance. 

ON JEHONAS, uncomfortable playing the roll of nursemaid. He'd 
like nothing more than to be done with this, but the only thing 
he can do is hold Buffy while she rides out the seizures.

BUFFY'S POV: growing darker by the moment. The last thing she 
sees is Jehonas staring down at her -- then the night closes in.

ON JEHONAS,

He continues to watch with silence as Buffy starts to ease down a 
bit from her rapid convulsions. 

 KAREN
 We won't know if the medication will 
 affect her in time. I'm guessing she's 
 about fifty-fifty. You okay?

He shakes off a feeling and nods, he starts to head off.

 JEHONAS
 How's your research coming?

 KAREN
 (exhales)
 Nothing major, yet. But we're making some 
 progress. Don't worry.

She tries to smile as assurance for Jehonas. He looks back at her 
and nods.

 WHISTLER
 Another day, another person. They keep 
 getting younger and younger. 

WE PAN BACK as Jehonas leaves. Whistler goes back to work,
pumping up the volume of his stereo once more.

 DISSOLVE TO:

INT. HOUSE OF EREBUS - MEETING ROOM - DAY

CLOSE ON a monitor featuring footage taken at the vampire club 
massacre. Jehonas turns and stares into the camera, fires his 
shotgun. The screen cuts to static.

A WITHERED, CLAWED HAND moves into frame, holding a remote. With 
a tap of a button, the monitor goes dark.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL a large, minimalist conference room -- the 
House of Erebus, seat of the New York vampire race's legislative 
assembly.

Gathered around a massive table are the VAMPIRE ELDERS of Erebus, 
representing a "rainbow" of racial colors -- names like 
PALLINTINE, VON ESPER, ASHE, BAVA. Two of them, the FAUSTINAS, 
are identical twins -- lethal-looking women with alabaster skin.

Chilled carafes filled with blood are situated along the table. 
From time to time, a member will pour themselves a glass.

At the head of the table is GAETANO DRAGONETTI, current vampire 
"Prince". Blood-red eyes, parchment skin stretched over skull-
like features. Incalculably ancient, but still deadly and virile 
as a viper.

 DRAGONETTI
 Jehonas. The Day-walker. Once again 
 adopting the role of Judge, Jury and 
 Executioner. 
 (beat)
 How many died?

ELDER PALLINTINE, a 300-year old vampire dressed in a 20s three-
piece suit, Dragonetti's right hand, answers.

 PALLINTINE
 We don't have an exact count as of yet. 
 Apparently, he used a lot of silver. 
 Dragonetti, we can't afford --

 DRAGONETTI
 Send him in.

INT. HOUSE OF EREBUS - OUTSIDE MEETING ROOM - DAY

A LONE MAN in a black leather coat is busy with a cigarette in 
hand.

DEACON FROST, a mere "Underlord" in the vampire hierarchy, steps 
forward. Strikingly handsome, younger, less conservative than his 
superiors, fueled with a passionate intensity. Amongst the 
vampire community he's known as an agitator. He's also the 
vampire equivalent of a racial supremacist, Sabbat attitude. In 
their world, they are divided between them and the Camarilla. The 
latter of the two seeks to live in peaceful co-existence with 
humans.

The guard emerges from a door and Frost turns to him.

 VAMPIRE GUARD
 Deacon Frost. You can come in now.

INT. MEETING ROOM -- LATER

KOBEJITSU, the asian vampire and one of the oldest, is very 
ticked at Frost. We can see he is some form of an oriental elder, 
if not for the three-inch long talon-like finger nails, and a 
myriad of tattoos of his clan on his aged forehead. He uses the 
"secret tongue" -- the ancient vampire language which utilizes 
consonants human vocal chords are incapable of reproducing.

 KOBEJITSU
 (subtitled, taking umbrage)
 Your behavior is a disgrace to the 
 Camarilla, Frost. If we break the treaty 
 -- if we gather in numbers -- the human 
 politicians will make our lives very 
 difficult. You would understand this if 
 you weren't so young and simple minded --

FROST takes a drag of his cigarette, seemingly ignoring 
everything that's directed at him.

 KOBEJITSU
 (subtitled, vampire tongue)
 Don't we have enough trouble from Jehonas?

 PALLINTINE
 These nightclubs of yours are dangerous.

 FROST
 Are they?

 PALLINTINE
 They draw needless attention to our kind. 

 FROST
 What do you think I am? Stupid? You think 
 I let Jehonas shoot up my clubs for the 
 fuck of it?

 BAVA
 It would only be a matter of time, Deacon 
 Frost. This Raquel of yours has been a 
 center of unneeded attention. 

Bava takes a file nearby, opens it to reveal large glossy photos. 
He takes them one by one, tossing them to Frost. We see they are 
of Dennis.

 BAVA (CONT'D)
 Especially to the young and the easily 
 traceable like this Dennis she seduced 
 last night. You are fortunate Jehonas has 
 erased any memory of the event. If he were
 to --

 FROST
 Oh, so suddenly Jehonas is a good 
 Samaritan here.

 PALLINTINE
 Regardless, we do not make any unnecessary
 contacts with the humans. You know our 
 policy.

 FROST
 Your policy. Not mine.

This causes quite a stir amongst the other vampires. Frost might 
as well have slapped Dragonetti in the face.

 DRAGONETTI
 Our livelihood depends on our ability to 
 blend in -- 
 (beat)
 -- and our discretion.

 FROST
 Maybe it's about time we forgot about 
 discretion. Look at us. Why are we hiding 
 from the humans, huh? We should be ruling 
 them. Not running around making back alley 
 treaties with them. For fuck's sake, these
 people are our food. Not our allies.

Dragonetti looks apoplectic.

 PALLINTINE
 You're out of line, Frost.

 FROST
 Am I? Or am I just the first to say out 
 loud what we've all been thinking?

 DRAGONETTI
 The shadows suit us, Frost. We have 
 existed this way for thousands of years. 
 Who are you to challenge our ways?

Frost quiets down and looks at Dragonetti with a gaze. He gets up
and strolls leisurely around the table, watching over the elders.

 FROST
 I'll tell you who I am. Someone who's sick
 of living off scraps. The coming of age 
 belongs to us!

 DRAGONETTI
 You're not the only childe with this 
 vision. So typical of the younger 
 generations, how do you say in the mortal 
 words? is getting old. You are Neonate. 
 When you've become wizened, then perhaps 
 you will understand.

 FROST
 Like it matters?

 DRAGONETTI
 For over 400 years I have served this 
 House, building it into the financial 
 power it is today. So has every member 
 here before me --

Frost stops and sits down on the table near Dragonetti. A show of 
defiance.

 DRAGONETTI
 But you, Frost? You're merely an infant.

 FROST
 I'm a vampire. You're a vampire. The world
 belongs to us, not the humans. You know 
 that.

Dragonetti looks back at the House members.

 DRAGONETTI
 Do we have any other business to discuss?

 PALLINTINE
 Well, there's a matter of our off-shore 
 accounts. We're having some trouble --

 DRAGONETTI
 Have you made the transfers?

 FROST
 Careful, old fang. You might wake up one 
 day and find yourself extinct.

Frost glares at Dragonetti and calmly exits the room. The elders 
watch, then murmur to themselves. They are obviously very 
agitated with Frost's demonstration of rebellion. Dragonetti 
looks over his House, then FOCUSES on one particular who is 
seated on the far end.

 DRAGONETTI
 Your child is becoming more of a nuisance.

A curtain of silence falls over the table as they turn to that 
particular somebody. The somebody is a vampire -- a female 
vampire or, a SIREN -- and in a clear and seductive voice,

 FEMALE VAMPIRE ELDER (O.S.)
 A childe at least with an ambition --

 DRAGONETTI
 He draws from your tainted bloodline. I 
 hope you understand fully our risk of 
 accepting your kind into our House, and 
 fully appreciate that we have chosen to 
 accept you, last of Tzimisce clan. It was 
 your wish to change, to make amends of the
 past. 

 FEMALE VAMPIRE ELDER (O.S.)
 My sincerest gratitude --

 DRAGONETTI
 Teach him properly, the rules of the 
 Masquerade. I've always entrusted my 
 elders to care for their brood. I know you
 are young like Frost, but don't allow that 
 --

 FEMALE VAMPIRE ELDER (O.S.)
 Oh don't go giving me the younger 
 generation speech again, Gaetano.

WE PAN BACK from Dragonetti and across the table, pass several 
Elders, to a high chair. We finally see her. She's a work of 
beauty. A woman (blonde, very beautiful, late 20s maybe) sitting 
comfortably and admiring her view. In her hand is a slender 
smoking pipe. 

 FEMALE VAMPIRE ELDER
 At times I would even think of it as a 
 compliment. We are so immersed in our 
 isolation from the rest of the world we 
 forget who we are, who we really are.

 DRAGONETTI
 We will discuss no more of this. Deal with
 Frost or I will be forced to deal with 
 him. 

EXT. CHINATOWN STREETS - DAY

Jehonas makes his way down a street lined with vending stalls -- 
passing MERCHANTS peddling exotic vegetables and cheap curios, 
butcher shops with rows of roast ducks in the window, tyro GANG-
BANGERS lounging at the entrance to a video arcade.

JEHONAS' POV: Even though the streets are crowded, the people 
seem to make way for him, avoiding eye-contact.

Jehonas turns, ducking into the doorway of a hole-in-the-wall 
herbalist shop.

INT. HERBALIST SHOP - DAY

A bell atop the door JINGLES, announcing Jehonas' arrival. We're 
in a fairly lit room filled with baskets and bottle-lined shelves 
featuring things like "Toad Spleen Extract" and "Barking Deer 
Wine". Joss sticks burn, sending wispy tendrils of incense into 
the air.

At the back of the shop, a YOUNG CHINESE MAN in a cardigan sits 
in front of a battered television, watching a boxing match.

 JEHONAS
 How's it going, Kam?

 KAM
 (re: calendar)
 You're a week early.

 JEHONAS
 I was in the neighborhood.

Jehonas stops a moment to check out the wares. He notices one 
particular BOTTLE filled with a misty whitish liquid and picks it 
up.

ANGLE ON JEHONAS' HAND as he looks over it. ESSENCE OF GARLIC. He 
sets it back down.

 JEHONAS
 Karen says I'm building up a resistance to
 the serum.

He takes out a small LEATHER POUCH from his coat and tosses it to 
Kam. The young man nods and walks into a back room. Jehonas 
follows.

INT. HERBALIST SHOP - BACK ROOM - DAY

 KAM
 I was afraid that might happen.

ANGLE ON COUNTER, as Kam tosses the pouch on the counter top. The 
contents spill. Various expensive watches of all sorts - 
Rolexes, Omegas, Hamiltons, etc. -- along with crisp rolls of 
bills are seen.

Kam inspects one of the watches, turns back to Jehonas.

 KAM
 Damn. You let me into your dough and I'll 
 live happily ever after.

 JEHONAS
 Now all secrets need be revealed.

 KAM
 Your growing immunity isn't a secret.

 JEHONAS
 Maybe it's time to start exploring other 
 alternatives.

 KAM
 There's only one alternative to the serum.

Jehonas nods. They both know what that "alternative" is. Kam 
hands Jehonas a leather valise. He opens it - its lined with tiny 
ampoules of scarlet-colored serum. He pulls one out, holds it up 
to the light.

 JEHONAS
 Yeah. I know.

Jehonas closes the valise and tucks it inside his jacket.