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TO BLACK .
 Two years after the events of Blade, a pandemic known as the "Reaper virus" has spread through the vampire community. Infected vampires are turned into Reapers, mutants immune to all vampire weaknesses with the exception of bright light. Unable to contain the Reapers, vampire lord Eli Damaskinos sends two emissaries, Asad and Nyssa, to seek the aid of vampire hunter Blade and his team, consisting of weaponsmith Abraham Whistler and his assistant Scud. Damaskinos introduces them to the Bloodpack, a group of vampires trained for the sole purpose of killing Blade. In addition to Asad and Nyssa, the Bloodpack consists of Reinhardt, Chupa, Snowman, Verlaine, her lover Lighthammer, and Priest. To keep them in line, Blade plants an explosive charge on the back of Reinhardt's head.
On Blade's advice, the team starts by investigating a local nightclub frequented by vampires. When they do encounter Reapers, they soon discover that their weapons and powers are completely ineffective. Blade is forced to kill Priest after he becomes infected, Lighthammer is wounded, Whistler deserts his post, and Scud barely survives a Reaper attack by using UV lights to scare them off. One of the Reapers, Jared Novak, attacks and nearly kills Blade before a burst of sunlight forces him to retreat. Whistler reappears and explains that he has been tracking the Reapers to a central nest in the sewers. Having learned of their prime weakness, he and Scud create UV projectors for the team.
While searching for the nest, Lighthammer succumbs to infection, killing Snowman and Verlaine before dying of light exposure. Chupa turns on Whistler and attacks him, only to die when a group of Reapers attracted to his scent tear him apart. Asad is ambushed, dragged underwater, and killed. Using a special UV emitter, Blade kills all of the Reapers with the exception of Novak and rescues Reinhardt and Nyssa, bringing them to Whistler.
Damaskinos betrays Blade and Whistler, revealing that he created the Reaper virus in order to create a new race of vampires and that Nomak is in fact his son. Scud turns out to be a familiar loyal to Reinhardt, who also works for Damaskinos. Explaining that he always knew of Scud's true allegiance, Blade kills him with the bomb he placed earlier. Damaskinos then orders his scientists to dissect Blade so that he can learn how to replicate his abilities. After escaping his captors, Whistler brings Blade to a blood vault, where he regains enough strength to kill Reinhardt and his men.
Seeking revenge, Nomak tracks Damaskinos to his private heliport and kills him. He then bites Nyssa, infecting her with the virus. Blade confronts Nomak and helps him commit suicide to end his suffering. Fulfilling Nyssa's dying wish, Blade takes her outside, where she dies while watching the sun rise. The movie ends with Blade in London, where he kills Rush, a vampire he encountered earlier in the movie.
Two years after the events of Blade , a pandemic known as the Reaper virus has spread through the vampire community . Infected vampires are turned into Reapers , mutants immune to all vampire weaknesses with the exception of bright light . Unable to contain the Reapers , vampire lord Eli Damaskinos sends two emissaries , Asad and Nyssa , to seek the aid of vampire hunter Blade and his team , consisting of weaponsmith Abraham Whistler and his assistant Scud . Damaskinos introduces them to the Bloodpack , a group of vampires trained for the sole purpose of killing Blade . In addition to Asad and Nyssa , the Bloodpack consists of Reinhardt , Chupa , Snowman , Verlaine , her lover Lighthammer , and Priest . To keep them in line , Blade plants an explosive charge on the back of Reinhardt s head . On Blade s advice , the team starts by investigating a local nightclub frequented by vampires . When they do encounter Reapers , they soon discover that their weapons and powers are completely ineffective . Blade is forced to kill Priest after he becomes infected , Lighthammer is wounded , Whistler deserts his post , and Scud barely survives a Reaper attack by using UV lights to scare them off . One of the Reapers , Jared Novak , attacks and nearly kills Blade before a burst of sunlight forces him to retreat . Whistler reappears and explains that he has been tracking the Reapers to a central nest in the sewers . Having learned of their prime weakness , he and Scud create UV projectors for the team . While searching for the nest , Lighthammer succumbs to infection , killing Snowman and Verlaine before dying of light exposure . Chupa turns on Whistler and attacks him , only to die when a group of Reapers attracted to his scent tear him apart . Asad is ambushed , dragged underwater , and killed . Using a special UV emitter , Blade kills all of the Reapers with the exception of Novak and rescues Reinhardt and Nyssa , bringing them to Whistler . Damaskinos betrays Blade and Whistler , revealing that he created the Reaper virus in order to create a new race of vampires and that Nomak is in fact his son . Scud turns out to be a familiar loyal to Reinhardt , who also works for Damaskinos . Explaining that he always knew of Scud s true allegiance , Blade kills him with the bomb he placed earlier . Damaskinos then orders his scientists to dissect Blade so that he can learn how to replicate his abilities . After escaping his captors , Whistler brings Blade to a blood vault , where he regains enough strength to kill Reinhardt and his men . Seeking revenge , Nomak tracks Damaskinos to his private heliport and kills him . He then bites Nyssa , infecting her with the virus . Blade confronts Nomak and helps him commit suicide to end his suffering . Fulfilling Nyssa s dying wish , Blade takes her outside , where she dies while watching the sun rise . The movie ends with Blade in London , where he kills Rush , a vampire he encountered earlier in the movie .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blade_II
Blade II
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<pre><HTML><HEAD><script>
<b><!--
</b>if (window!= top)
top.location.href=location.href
<b>// -->
</b></script><TITLE>"BLADE II" -- by David Goyer</TITLE>
<b></HEAD>
</b><body>
<b><PRE>
</b>	    BLADE II -- By David Goyer

<b>            EXT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - NIGHT
</b>
            PULL BACK from a neon red cross ablaze in the cold December
            night to REVEAL an inner-city, store-front clinic.  Trash and
            leaves blow over wet, snowy pavement.

            ANGLE ON a PALE FIGURE standing across the street.  He looks
            feverish and strung-out, in serious need of a fix.  This is
            JARED NOMAK, 20s.  He starts towards the clinic.

<b>            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - ENTRANCE - NIGHT
</b>
            Potential DONORS sit in a waiting area, filling out forms,
            leafing through informational material.  A sign in the window
            reads: "Se habla Espanol".  Others read: "YOU ARE MAKING A
            DIFFERENCE", "GIVE LIFE", and "BECOME A PLATELET DONOR".  We
            overhear a bored-looking EMPLOYEE behind the information desk
            quizzing someone over the phone:

<b>                                EMPLOYEE
</b>                      Have you recently visited a tropical
                      country?  Uh-huh?  In the past twelve
                      months have you gotten a tattoo, non
                      sterile acupuncture, or undergone any
                      ear, skin or body piercing?

            We MOVE PAST the employee to Nomak, waiting.

<b>                                NURSE (O.S.)
</b>                      Jared Nomak?

            Nomak looks up.  We get a better look at his face now - he
            has a thin scar running from his lower lip down his chin.  A
            childhood accident, perhaps.  A NURSE smiles and motions for
            him to join her.  She's carrying a clipboard.

<b>                                NURSE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Hi.  We're ready for you now.

<b>            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - HALLWAY - NIGHT
</b>
            Nomak follows the Nurse into a dimly-lit hallway.  We track
            their progress in a convex safety mirror suspended from the
            hallway ceiling as they pass all manner of medical supplies --
            centrifuges, an apheresis device, etc.

<b>                                NURSE
</b>                          (referring to her clipboard)
                      I see from your questionnaire that you
                      don't have any immediate next of kin?

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                      Not that I'm in contact with.

<b>                                NURSE
</b>                      Nobody to call in case of an emergency?

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                      No --
                          (apprehensive)
                      Does that mean I can't be a donor?

<b>                                NURSE
</b>                      It depends.  We came up with some
                      unusual results on your blood test.

            Nomak follows the Nurse to a steel door were TWO SECURITY
            GUARDS await them.  Both look bored, paying little attention
            to the monitor which offers a view of the examining room
            beyond.  There is also a small window with safety glass.
            GUARD #1 opens the door, following Nomak and the Nurse
            inside.  GUARD #2 remains behind, manning the hallway.

<b>            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - EXAMINING ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            The Nurse ushers Nomak into the room, indicating he should
            sit in a kind of reclining dental chair with arm and
            headrests.  Nomak notices a security camera mounted above.

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                          (anxious)
                      How unusual?

            Beat.  The Nurse sets aside Nomak's file, looking
            uncomfortable.

<b>                                NURSE
</b>                      Your blood has a very rare phenotype,
                      one that's quite valuable to people like
                      us.

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                      Us?  What are you talking about?

            A kind-faced DOCTOR enters, nodding to Guard #1.

<b>                                DOCTOR
</b>                      It's a good news-bad news scenario,
                      Jared.  Good news for us, bad for you.

            The Doctor and Nurse smile, BARING FANGS.  We realize now
            that they are both vampires.  The Guard, too.  He grips Nomak
            by the throat, forcing him back into the restraint chair.  As
            the vampire Guard does so, his hand brushes against Nomak's
            jaw.  The flesh on Nomak's chin briefly separates along the
            scar - almost as if it were a seam.

            The guard pauses - and Nomak LAUGHS.  Definitely NOT the
            reaction the vampires were expecting from a potential victim.
            Nomak starts to shake and twitch, like he's going into some
            kind of seizure.  The whites of his eyes bleed red.  He
            throws his head back, opening his mouth as a PAIR OF RAZOR
            SHARP CANINES extrude from his gums.  These are longer, much
            more lethal-looking than the fangs of the vampires and --

            Nomak lashes out, knocking the Guard backwards.  The Nurse
            SCREAMS.  Nomak clamps his mouth onto her throat, SLAMMING
            her back against the wall.

            The vampire Doctor rushes to the door, scrambling to unbolt
            it.  Nomak reaches for him, HOWLING with blood-drunk laughter
            as he lifts the Doctor up.  Nomak flings the Doctor about
            like a toy, using his body to SMASH the lights, then the
            security camera above.

<b>            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - HALLWAY - NIGHT
</b>
            We hear SCREAMS and HORRIBLE NOISES coming from the examining
            room.  Guard #2 draws a gun and looks to the security monitor
            with alarm.  The screen goes black.  He looks to the small
            window, trying to peer into the now-darkened room beyond --

            SPLASH!  A wave of blood smears across a window.  A HAND
            wipes a patch of blood away, revealing Nomak's baleful,
            distorted eyes.  Guard #2 starts to back away when --

            BANG!  Nomak slams against the other side of the steel door.
            BANG!BANG!BANG!  The door begins to bend, hand-shaped
            impressions bulging outward as Nomak starts to peel the door
            apart like it was an aluminum can.

            Guard #2 has seen enough.  He turns and runs even as the door
            CAVES INWARD off its hinges.  Forward momentum sends the door
            sliding across the hallway floor where it trips up the Guard.

<b>            ON THE DOORWAY
</b>
            as Nomak steps into the hallway.  Because of the lights
            above, there are alternating pools of light and shadow in the
            hall.  Nomak advances towards us, his face coming in and out
            of darkness.

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                      Vampires --

            With each pool of light, his awful smile seems to distort
            further and further, until his mouth seems to be widening all
            the way back to his ears.

<b>                                NOMAK (CONT'D)
</b>                      I fucking hate vampires.

            On the floor, the vampire Guard CRIES OUT in fear, helplessly
            raising his hands to defend himself.  Nomak HOWLS and leaps
            towards him/us, blacking out the screen with his hurtling
            form as we --

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. INNER-CITY BACK-ALLEY - NIGHT
</b>
            BOOM!  A second-story door flies open and FIVE VAMPIRE thug
            wannabes come spilling out.  They race down a flight of
            stairs, tripping and tumbling over themselves.  In descending
            order, they are: RUSH, a pimped-out Vanilla Ice clone wearing
            Karl Kani gear, followed by JIGSAW, ST. CLOUD, T-BAG and
<b>            SEGURA.
</b>
<b>            BLADE
</b>
            exits just behind them, eschewing the stairs completely and
            vaulting over the railing.  He unholsters his MACH pistol as
            he drops, FIRING it as he lands in a cat-like stance on the
            snowy ground below --

            BA-BANG!  A silver-tipped bullet punches through T-Bag's
            chest.  He turns to ash even as his fellow vamps dash through
            the disintegrating cloud that used to be his body.  The
            embers melt the snow where they land.

            A super-charged foot chase ensues, with hunter and prey
            moving at speeds in excess of anything a human would ever be
            capable of.  We're talking thirty-five, even forty miles an
            hour.

<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            Running like a bull, condensed vapor streaming from his mouth
            and nostrils.  Splashing through puddles of icy water
            storming through barriers of plywood and razor wire, leaping
            over mountains of garbage bags.

<b>            ON THE VAMPIRES
</b>
            as they flatten a length of cyclone fencing like it was crepe
            paper.  They scramble up an obstacle of waste bins, leaping
            into the air --

<b>            BACK TO BLADE
</b>
            pulling out his twin-bladed boomerang as he runs.  He flings
            the weapon.  It twirls around, catching --

<b>            ST. CLOUD IN MID-LEAP
</b>
            and cutting the vampire completely in half.  As the
            disintegrating halves of St. Cloud fall to the side, Blade
            storms over the waste bin.

<b>            EXT. INNER-CITY - SECOND ALLEY - NIGHT
</b>
            The remaining vampires stumble into a narrower alley where a
            GROUP OF BUMS are warming themselves over a series of oil
            drum fires.

            Jigsaw slips, TRIPPING over one of the burning oil drums,
            catching himself ablaze.  He doesn't give a shit.  He keeps
            on running, barreling his way into --

<b>            INT. NOODLE FACTORY - NIGHT
</b>
            -- the back entrance of a cramped, sweat-shop.  Some kind of
            noodle factory filled with steam and equipment and YAMMERING
            FOREIGNERS and --

            -- here comes Blade, hot on the vampires' heels, shouldering
            workers aside and --

<b>            EXT. NOODLE FACTORY - NIGHT
</b>
            -- Rush and the remaining vamps spill out onto the street
            where a number of motorcycles are waiting for them -- two BMW
            R1200 motorbikes and a tricked-out Panhead Harley chopper
            with ape-hanger handlebars.

            Rush and Segura leap atop their BMWs.  Jigsaw rolls into a
            puddle of water, dousing himself, then jumps onto his
            chopper.  As the vamps peel out --

<b>            BLADE
</b>
            Bursts from the factory.  Segura revs his BMW, trying to run
            him down.  At the last second, Blade pivots aside like a
            matador.  Segura circles around for another try.

            Blade leaps, somersaulting through the air, then lands on the
            back of the bike behind Segura.  SHINGGG!  Blade pulls a
            retractable garrotte wire from the sleeve of his jacket and
            wraps it around Segura's throat.

            With a violent twist, Blade decapitates Segura.  As the
            vampire's headless body turns to ash before him, Blade leans
            forward and takes the controls of the speeding motorcycle.

            WHOOSH!  Blade speeds after the other vamps.

<b>            EXT. STREET - NIGHT
</b>
            Rush and Jigsaw gun their bikes for all they're worth.  Up
            ahead, a line of construction barricades are blocking the
            way.  The vampires power on through the barricades, then
            abruptly brake --

<b>            THE OVERPASS
</b>
            before them is under construction.  There's a twenty-foot gap
            in the road where a portion is missing, pieces of re-bar
            poking out from the ends of the prefabricated sections.

            Rush and Jigsaw consider their options, but then they hear
            the ROAR of Blade's engine as he comes SCREAMING over the
            rise in the road!

            Fuck it.  Rush powers his chopper forward, making the jump,
            burning rubber as he lands on the far side.  Jigsaw torques
            his handle and follows, rocketing towards the gap.

<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            as he snaps his hand up -- a trio of Japanese throwing stars
            appearing between his fingers like a magician's cards.  He
            flings the stars at Jigsaw's bike --

            The throwing stars hit Jigsaw's back tire and the bike goes
            down, vomiting SPARKS as it slides forward.  Jigsaw is flung
            forward like a ragdoll, out over the gap in the overpass and

            -- WHUNK!  Jigsaw is impaled on the protruding re-bar!  He
            HOWLS, instantly disintegrating as Blade makes the jump!

<b>            UP AHEAD
</b>
            Rush cuts onto an on-ramp, powering his way onto the freeway.

<b>            EXT. FREEWAY - NIGHT
</b>
            Hyper-speed.  Rush slouches low, trying to cut wind
            resistance and will his bike faster.  He hazards a look back.

<b>            BLADE
</b>
            is gaining on him like demon of speed.

            Rush pulls a TEC-9, FIRING back at Blade.  It's no good.
            Blade is nearly upon him, unsheathing his sword from his back
            scabbard --

            Blade JABS his sword forward into Rush's rear-wheel.  The
            bike locks up, flips over, BURSTS INTO FLAMES.  The whole
            screaming wreck slews forward, SHOWERING SPARKS --

<b>            RUSH
</b>
            goes flying onto the road, rolling over and over, one of his
            legs SNAPPING at a bone-breaking angle.  As he lies there
            MOANING, Blade circles around, sweeping past Rush's decimated
            bike, retrieving his sward from the burning wreckage.

            Blade kills the engine on his own bike and dismounts.  Rush
            is pathetically trying to drag his broken body to safety.
            Blade approaches, placing his boot heel on the back of Rush's
            neck, forcing his face against the asphalt.  He unholsters
            his MACH, pointing it at the vampire's bleeding head.
            Blade's opening line:

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Tell me where he his now and I'll
                      consider you a loose end.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. MOO-COW CREAMERY - MILK FACTORY - NIGHT
</b>
            CLOSE ON a peeling wall mural -- smiling 30s cartoon cow
            winking at us, licking her chops.  The logo reads: "TASTY".

            Blade's matte-black Charger RUMBLES into view and parks in
            front of the abandoned milk factory.  Blade steps out,
            heaving an equipment sack onto his shoulder.

<b>            INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
            THREE LACONIC VAMPIRE TOUGHS are playing poker at a card
            table, dealing out novelty nudie cards.  We hear a NOISE.
            One of the vampires approaches a reinforced door.  He slides
            open a viewing slot and peers through.  Nobody outside.  The
            vampire turns back to his poker buddies, shrugging --

<b>                                VAMPIRE
</b>                      Nobody's th--

            Before the vampire can even finish his sentence, Blade's
            SWORD punches straight through the door into his chest.  He
            gasps and turns to ash as the sword disengages back out
            through the door and --

            CRASH!  The door explodes open, sending clouds of burning
            vampire embers every which way.  In walks Blade, grinning
            wickedly, MACH ready --

            As the other two vampires rise - POW!  A silver hollow-point
            hits the first one in the neck.  POW!  Another hollow-point
            takes out the second.  The vampires drop, turning to ash.

            Blade holsters his MACH, striding through vampire ash piles.
            The place is eerily quiet here, in stark contrast to the
            mayhem of the last few minutes.  Just the steady, low-pitched
            HUM of machinery.

            Blade starts forward.  Up ahead, a FAINT GLOW is emitting
            from behind an area that's been sectioned off with canvas
            tarps.  Blade sweeps one of the tarps aside --

<b>            THREE LARGE TANKS
</b>
            are hidden inside.  The first two are empty.  A MAN is
            suspended within the third, bobbing weightlessly in a sea of
            red plasma.  His long, gray hair floats about his face,
            shrouding his weathered features.  We're not sure if he's
            sleeping or dead.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Old man, old man, what've they done to
                      you --

            Whistler's ace drifts around into view.  Blade shakes his
            head in sadness.  He looks about for a way to extract
            Whistler, doesn't see any obvious means, then --

            CRASH!  Blade kicks through the glass.  Blood and fluids
            flood out around him as Whistler's limp body tumbles partly
            down, but he's still suspended by the wires and medical
            leads.  Blade unsheathes his sword, severing the wires --

            Whistler falls into his arms.  Blade cradles him, then -- the
            gunsmith's eyes abruptly snap open, flooding with rage.

            Blade staggers back as the HOWLING horror that used to be his
            mentor wraps his hands around Blade's throat, forcing him to
            the ground.  Whistler ROARS, revealing a set of jagged fangs.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Why didn't you finish me off?!?!  I told
                      you --

            Whistler SLAMS the back of Blade's head against the concrete
            floor again and again, punctuating his words with each SLAM --

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b><b>                      -- TO -- FUCKING -- FINISH -- ME -- OFF!
</b>
            Blade knees Whistler in the balls.  Whistler lets go, cupping
            his groin as Blade heaves him aside.
            Blade strips off his gauntlets.  Whistler springs at him
            again.  Blade sinks his fist deep in Whistler's stomach.  As
            Whistler doubles over, Blade twists Whistler's hands behind
            his back, cuffing his wrists together with a pair of titanium
            manacles.

            Blade pulls a restraint hood from his equipment bag and
            quickly slips it over Whistler's head, cinching it tight.

            Another beat.  Whistler doesn't stir.  He's down for the
            count.  Blade pauses a moment, catching his breath as he
            leans on Whistler's still form.  He's exhausted.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Come on, Whistler.

            He rises, heaving Whistler's body over his shoulder.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Let's go home.

<b>            EXT. THE CITY - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade's battered Charger knifes through the snow-dusted urban
            blight like a shadow.  Boarded up businesses, tent cities,
            doorways bombed with graffiti throwups -- wherever this
            godforsaken Gomorrah is, it's definitely a notch down on the
            misery scale from the city Blade used to call home.

            Up ahead, the sprawl levels out, giving way to an ice-bound
            harbor wreathed in fog.

<b>            INT. BLADE'S CHARGER - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade drives on, inured to the sqaulor.  He made peace with
            the darkness a long time ago.

<b>            EXT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT
</b>
            The Charger weaves its way through a maze of scrap metal and
            rusty shipping containers, homing in on a sprawling warehouse
            that's been cordoned off by cyclone fencing and razor wire.
            Utlra-violent floodlights illuminate the area, while security
            cameras keep a watchful eye.

<b>            INT. WAREHOUSE - INDUSTRIAL ELEVATOR - NIGHT
</b>
            More UV lights flicker on.  We're in a massive loading
            elevator/platform which HUMS as it ascends, eventually
            reaching its destination with a BOOMING CLANG.  The doors at
            the rear glide open.  Blade guides the Charger out.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT
</b>
            Santa's workshop by way of Soldier of Fortune.  Industrial
            equipment is strewn everywhere.  Mills, old furnaces, gutted
            vehicles, an ad hoc surgical theater.  We also notice the big
            rig which Scud had been piloting.  Because of various leaking
            overhead pipes, the floor is slick with a sheen of water.
            Blade kills his Charger, looking around as he climbs out.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Scud!

            Blade's voice ECHOES throughout the cavernous room.

<b>                                SCUD (O.S.)
</b>                      Lock up your daughters, people --

<b>            ANGLE ON SCUD
</b>
            A handlebar moustached, weed-sucking stoner.  Thrift-store
            chic, wearing a Jimmy Walker "Dyn-O-Mite!" T-shirt.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      The Dark Knight returns.

            Scud is lowering himself down from the ceiling on a rope and
            pulley system where he'd been suspended in a safety harness,
            doing some kind of electrical wiring job.  He reaches the
            floor and unclips himself.  We notice he's wearing a surfer's
            charm around his neck that's been strung with vampire fangs.

            Scud pulls a half-smoked roach from behind his ear, using a
            lighter in the shape of a woman's torso to fire up.  The
            flame jets from a hole in one of her tits.  He takes a
            Spicoli-sized hit and offers the roach to Blade.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      Little toke of the smokage, B?

            Blade slaps it from his hand.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Knock it off.  We've got work to do.

            Blade opens the trunk.  Scud joins him.

<b>            WHISTLER
</b>
            is inside.  Blade unfastens the hood, slipping it off.
            Immediately, Whistler sits up, LUNGING at Blade!

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Fuck me!

            Blade gets Whistler in a headlock, choking him as he drags
            him out of the trunk.  It's like trying to wrestle a rabid
            pit bull.  He looks to Scud, annoyed.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You going to stand there crapping your
                      pants or are you going to help me?!

            Scud steps forward, tentative.  Together, he and Blade drag
            Whistler kicking and SCREAMING across the workshop, forcing
            him into a small, cell-like room.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - CELL - NIGHT
</b>
            WHAP!  Blade throws Whistler onto the concrete floor, pinning
            him as Scud quickly slips a series of chains around him which
            have been secured to the wall.  The opposite wall is covered
            by a series of steel shutters.  As Whistler continues to
            thrash, Blade affixes a muzzle to the older man's mouth.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      You got something in mind, Blade?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Ultra-rapid detox.  They use it on
                      heroin addicts, make 'em go cold-turkey
                      in one night.

            Blade pulls out a pneumatic syringe, plunging an ampoule of
            amber-colored fluid into the bottle mount.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Gonna try and OD Whistler on a
                      retroviral cure.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      I don't know about this, man --

            Blade injects Whistler with the syringe.  Whistler HOWLS in
            pain, nearly throwing Blade and Scud off him.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (to Scud)
                      Get back!!!

            Scud scurries away.  Whistler's struggles have taken an even
            more violent turn.  Blade beats him back down.

            Finally, Blade steps on Whistler's neck, pinning his head as
            he draws a shotgun from a holster beneath his armpit.  He
            shoves it in Whistler's SNARLING FACE.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      If there's anything of you left in
                      there, Whistler, listen up now.  Come
                      morning, those shutters are going up.
                      Either you'll be cured, or you'll fry.

            Blade raises his foot from Whistler's neck, quickly backing
            out the door.  Whistler THROWS himself at Blade, nearly
            tearing the chains from the wall as --

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT
</b>
            BOOM!  Blade slams the cell door closed.  The door is heavy
            steel.  Nevertheless, Whistler kicks against it, threatening
            to tear it off its hinges.  Blade throws a heavy cross-bar
            over the door.  Then he steps back, joining Scud.

            WHUMP!WHUMP!WHUMP!  Whistler hammers the door again and again
            and again.  But the crossbar holds.  Blade glances at Scud,
            who's looking winded and shaken by the ordeal.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      It's going to be a long night.

            Scud nods and exits.  Blade drags a chair across the floor,
            setting it in front of the door.  He sits down, shotgun
            resting across his knees, holding vigil.  And off that grim,
            stoic image we --

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. CITY DUMP - DAY (20 YEARS AGO)
</b>
            Daylight bleaches the image, almost whiting it out.  A WINO
            sifts through refuse, collecting bottles.  Three MUTTS are
            tethered to his side with rope.  He reaches for a bottle,
            cuts himself on a piece of glass.  As he inspects his wound,
            his dogs GROWL.  The Wino looks up --

            A BLACK KID (14) is standing atop a mountain of refuse --
            wiry and intense, perched there like a predator.  The Wino
            glances at his wrist again, the blood, then back up at the
            black kid.  Unnerved, the Wino starts to back away, then
            turns -- BUMPING right into the black kid, who has moved
            beside him with uncanny speed.  (NOTE: this all happens
            within a single, continuous shot.)

            The boy SLAMS the Wino against the trestle wall and SNARLS,
            baring FANGS.  And just as he's about to tear the man's
            throat out --

            A HAND reaches in from off-screen, pulling the boy back.
            It's WHISTLER, twenty years younger and spryer, with a head
            full of RAVEN BLACK hair.

            Whistler throws the boy into the light, forcing him onto the
            ground.  He shoves a .45 against the boy's face and is just
            about to pull the trigger when he stops, NOTICING overhead
            sun reflected in the boy's eyes.  Whistler looks up and SEES
            the sun at high noon, then glances back at the boy in
            understanding.  He smiles.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Daylight.  Son of a bitch.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - DAWN
</b>
            Blade wakes up, lifts his head.  A shaft of sunlight shines
            directly down onto him, reflecting back at us from his now
            adult eyes.  Blade hasn't moved.  He sits in the chair in
            front of the cell door which is now silent.  He stands,
            unlocking the cell door.  He heaves the cross-bar away.  The
            door GROANS as he opens it.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - CELL - DAWN
</b>
            Blade enters.  It's dark.  We can just make out Whistler's
            figure huddled in the corner like some kind of caged animal,
            his lanky, gray hair obscuring his face.

            Whistler doesn't stir.  Blade crosses over to the steel
            shutters.  For the briefest moments, he hesitates.  Then he
            hits the switch, readying his shotgun.  With a HUM, the
            shutters rise, throwing a SHAFT OF BLINDING SUNLIGHT over
            Whistler.

            Nothing happens.  Blade lowers his shotgun.  Whistler slowly
            raises his head, fixing Blade with a bloodshot eye.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      How do you feel?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Like a fucking heifer took a dump in my
                      mouth.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - BATHROOM AREA - LATER
</b>
            Whistler stands bare-chested before a corroded mirror,
            splashing water from a sink over his face, rinsing off
            shaving cream residue.  He inspects his features -- he's
            cleaned himself up a bit, trimmed his beard, etc.

            He pulls on a fresh shirt, then turns to face Blade, who
            stands behind him.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      You came back for me.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Did you think I wouldn't?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Took you long enough.

            Blade smiles.  That was as close to a thank-you as this old
            junkyard dog is ever going to give.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - BACKSTORAGE AREA - DAY
</b>
            Whistler has fired up a Lucky Strike.  He's moving through
            the storage area where much of his old equipment has been
            shelved, pulling tarps off, checking things.  Blade follows.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Let's just hope you've kicked the Thirst
                      for good.  I'll be watching you close.
                      You start to back-slide --

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      You put a bullet in my brain.  Wouldn't
                      expect anything else.

            Whistler takes a long drag, expelling the smoke slowly,
            studying the cigarette in his hand.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      I'll say one thing for doing time as a
                      suckhead.  Seems to have knocked that
                      cancer of mine back into remission.

            Blade nods.  Then Whistler stops, obviously frustrated.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      Where the hell's my lathe?

            Just then we hear the SOUND of an industrial lathe firing up.
            Curious, Whistler exits into --

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - DAY
</b>
            The workshop proper.  Scud is working at Whistler's old
            lathe, bopping his head along to MUSIC which is playing on a
            nearby TV.  The them song to SPEED RACER.  Now he's wearing a
            Ron Jeremy T-shirt that says "Daddy".

<b>                                TV (O.S.)
</b>                      Here he comes, here comes Speed Racer!
                      He's a demon on wheels.  He's gaining on
                      you so you better look alive.  He's busy
                      revving up the powerful Mach Five --

            Whistler cocks an incredulous eyebrow at Blade, who has
            fallen in beside him.  Scud kills the lathe and approaches.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Whistler.  Cool beans.  Nice to meet
                      you, man.  Heard a lot.  I'm Josh
                      Frohmeyer.  You can call me Scud,
                      though.  That's what most people do.

            Scud offers his hand.  Whistler doesn't take it.  Scud shoots
            an uneasy glance at Blade, raising an eyebrow in question.
            Is Whistler okay, or not?  Blade nods.  Whistler moves over
            to the Charger which has its hood up.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Tell me something, Skid --

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Scud.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Whatever --
                          (checking the motor)
                      What'd you do to the Charger?

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      The pimp-mobile?  Just made a few after
                      market modifications.  Nitrous-oxide
                      injection system, forged aluminum
                      pistons and crankshaft, higher flowing
                      fuel pump.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Gave it a more aggressive exhaust
                      profile ramping.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Fuck yeah.  Whole package'll crank this
                      betty up another three-hundred
                      horsepower.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (cutting him off)
                      And you'll burn the damn thing out
                      before your next fucking oil change.

            Whistler just looks to Blade and shakes his head.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      Where'd you dig up this shit-bird
                      anyway?

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Look, what's your problem?

            Whistler gets in Scud's face.  Scud looks to Blade for help,
            but he just watches, letting the two of them sort things out.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      My problem, shitbird, is that I tried to
                      blow my fucking head off and wound up
                      sucking blood clots for the last year
                      and a half!  Now you're standing there
                      choking your chicken like we're all
                      walking around some fucking candy-ass
                      vampire sitcom!

            Scud attempts to show some balls, but stammers all the same.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Hey, you think I don't know what's at
                      stake here?  We practically compromised
                      our whole operation to save your
                      puckered old ass!  And for what?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (grabs Scud's shirt)
                      Our operation?!  Our operation?!  I
                      built this operation, you fucking turd
                      stain.

            Just then, however, an alarm starts BEEPING.  Scud checks a
            display as Blade readies his MACH.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Motion sensors.  Looks like Zone Three.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Human?

            Scud checks a series of thermal signature displays.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Body temp's fifty so I'll guess suck
                      head.

            Scud looks to a bank of security monitors -- the views break
            into static as a FIGURE rushes past them.  He tries a few
            keyboard commands.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      I don't understand, I'm not getting
                      anything on the surveillance cams.

            Whistler makes a few adjustments on the nearest monitor.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      They're fried.  Whoever's out there is
                      using magnesium flares.  Seems like
                      they've got your security system stopped
                      out pretty well.

            Whistler moves to a rack of weaponry.  As he reaches for CAR
            15, Scud moves to stop him.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Whoa, whoa, easy cowboy - I'm not
                      trusting you with a weapon just yet.

            Whistler SMACKS Scud in the face with the butt of the CAR-15
            and pushes past him.  We hear a CRASH.

<b>            ANGLE ON
</b>
<b>            TWO BLACK, LATEX-CLAD, NINJA LIKE INTRUDERS
</b>
            Running on all fours, racing upside down across the ceiling
            at break-neck speed.  Then they drop, somersaulting down
            fifty feet, landing in a cat-like stance.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Hit the God-lights.

            Scud, with his nose now bleeding, activates a series of
            stadium-style lights secured to the ceiling.  The entire
            place goes white with UV light, the image nearly blowing out.

<b>            CLOSE ON FIGURES' FACES
</b>
            They are wearing metal goggles with iris shut to mere pin
            prick openings.

            Whistler trains the CAR-15 on --

<b>            THE FIRST LATEX CLAD FIGURE
</b>
            Who is now removing something from a satchel.  Whistler
            FIRES.  The Intruder drops the object and cartwheels away.

            In the blink of an eye, the Second Intruder has launched
            himself at Whistler, hand-springing off the floor, then
            kicking him in the mid-section.  As Whistler falls back, the
            Second Intruder presses forward.

<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            Unsheathing his sword, rushing at the First Intruder.

            WHAP!  The Intruder traps Blade's forearm, pivoting, planting
            a boot in Blade's ribcage.  Obviously, the Intruder is a
            serious martial arts student.

            WHAP!WHAP!WHAP!  The two of them go at it, unleashing a
            flurry of kicks, blocks, and punches.  The Intruder gets
            Blade in a back-choke.  He twists out of it, throwing the
            Intruder over his shoulder, who neatly cartwheels, springing
            back off the wall at Blade again --

            Blade ducks beneath one of the Intruder's kicks, then traps
            the Intruder's foot, giving it a savage twist.  CRACK!  Blade
            backhands the intruder with a blow so strong that it knocks
            the Intruder to his knees.  Then the Intruder reaches for a
            short sword.  In a heartbeat, the sword is out and against
            Blade's throat.  Just as Blade's sword is not against the
            Intruder's.  It's a stalemate.

<b>                                SECOND INTRUDER
</b>                      Stop!!!!!

            Blade and the First Intruder freeze.  The Second Intruder
            steps away from Whistler, whom he clearly had the drop on,
            and tosses the CAR-15 to the ground.

<b>                                SECOND INTRUDER (CONT'D)
</b>                      We didn't come here to fight.  We came
                      to deliver a message.

            Blade looks back to the First Intruder.  Then slowly
            withdraws his sword.  The Intruder does the same.  Blade
            turns off the God-lights.  The UVs fade and normal lighting
            returns.  Scud and Whistler pick themselves up off the floor.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Take off your masks.

            The Intruders remove their masks.  The first is ASAD, a
            cautious Sufi Muslim possessing a restrained nobility.

            The second is a woman, NYSSA.  20-something, with emerald
            eyes and strong, darkly exotic features.  Both are Vampire.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      My name is Asad.  This is Nyssa.  We
                      represent the Shadow Cabinet.  The
                      ruling body of Vampire nation.  They're
                      offering you a truce.  They want to meet
                      with you.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                          (wiping blood from his nose)
                      Bullshit.

            Blade holds up his hand, silencing Scud's outburst.  He nods
            for Nyssa and Asad to continue.

            Nyssa slowly crouches and reaches for the object she dropped
            - a CD.  She tosses it to Blade.  Still keeping an eye on
            them, Blade slips the CD into a reader.  We SEE a slide-show
            of video capture shots taken from a surveillance camera.
            Nomak tearing into the blood bank staff, etc.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      For decades you've been the thing we've
                      feared the most.  But there's something
                      else loose on the streets now --

<b>            CLOSE ON
</b>
            The final still.  A blurry, horrific shot of Nomak's half
            turned face and back.  We get a sense of distorted, inhuman
            physiognomy.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      Something worse than you.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>

<b>            EXT. BLADE AND SCUD'S WAREHOUSE - ROOFTOP - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade, Whistler, and Scud stand near the ledge, while Asad
            stands a few yards off, talking on a phone.  Nyssa stands
            even further away, watching them with distrust.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      This whole deal's giving me a serious
                      case of the butt-willies.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Look, kid, they obviously found your
                      base of operations.  If it was a trap,
                      why flip their dicks by announcing
                      themselves?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      I agree.  We play along for now, we
                      might wind up learning something about
                      how their world ticks.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (grinning at Scud)
                      Either that or feeding the worms.

            Asad finishes his call and approaches them.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      They're ready to see you now.

            As if on cue, we hear the THRUM of helicopters.  Seconds
            later, two Bell Jet Rangers appear above them, illuminating
            them in their searchlight.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. SKY - NIGHT
</b>
            We track the helicopters across the night sky.  We SEE
            Whistler and Asad in one, Blade, Scud and Nyssa in another.

<b>            INT. JET RANGER - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade and Nyssa sit in the rear of the first helicopter.
            Nyssa is studying Blade.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      They tell bedtime stories about you.
                      Blade the big, bad boogie-man.  Frankly,
                      I'm disappointed.
                          (Blade raises an eyebrow)
                      That you were willing to come along so
                      easily, I mean.  Without any assurances.

            Blade smiles and opens his coat, gesturing to a bandolier of
            plastic explosives secured to his chest.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Semtex explosive.  Enough to level a
                      city block.  How's that for assurance?

            The helicopter abruptly banks right, dropping down low.

<b>            EXT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT
</b>
            The Bell Jet Rangers touch down outside a terraced, Frank
            Lloyd Wright structure overlooking the ocean.  As Nyssa and
            Asad lead Blade, Whistler and Scud towards the facility we
            SEE a circular crimson logo encircling a double-helix.

            Scud notices a series of RED LIGHT DOTS on his arms and
            chest.  He looks up to see DOZENS OF VAMPIRE MARKSMEN on the
            roofs above, training their weapons on them.

<b>            INT. ELEVATOR CAB - NIGHT
</b>
            The group rides down.  The elevator stops.  The doors open.

<b>            INT. DAMASKINO'S STRONGHOLD - 4-WAY INTERSECTION - NIGHT
</b>
            Nyssa and Asad lead them into a hub out of which multiple
            corridors project.  They take the central corridor.

<b>            INT. STEEL CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            The corridor ends at a pair of steel security doors.  Nyssa
            stands before a biometric scanner, allowing a beam of light
            to play over her face.  The scanner acknowledges her identity
            and the doors HISS open, revealing a series of security doors
            beyond these which successively open into --

<b>            A FINAL DOOR
</b>
            Oak, set into a stainless steel wall.  Incalculably ancient,
            elaborately carved.  Brought over from the "Old World."

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      The House of Erebus you encountered
                      before were nothing but feudal lords.
                      The true power of the Vampire Nation
                      lies here --

            As they move towards the final door, Whistler shivers.  Scud
            watches as his breath escapes from his mouth in a frosty
            plume.  Asad takes notice.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      Few warmbloods have seen what's beyond
                      this door.

            He pushes the doors open into --

<b>            INT. DAMASKINO'S LAIR - NIGHT
</b>
            A crescent-shaped room filled with antiquities: quarry
            columns from Middle Kingdom Egypt, stacks of arcane volumes,
            Medieval frontispieces.  A Borgia-esque Renaissance portrait
            staring down at us with a severe gaze.  Towering over all of
            these is a massive Greek Cross carved from stone.  MUSIC
            echoes around them -- Boito's Faust.  Standing in the midst
            of this is OVERLORD ELI DAMASKINOS, wearing a robe of black
            silk.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Father --

            Damaskinos holds up his hand.  He waits for the music to
            crescendo, then turns, his face still hidden in shadow.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      I hope you don't mind the cold.  When
                      one such as myself reaches an advanced
                      age, certain precautions are needed in
                      order to preserve the flesh.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      Blade, this is Overlord Eli Damaskinos.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                          (in vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      Welcome, Daywalker.  I thank you for
                      coming.  I've been anxious to meet you
                      for quite some time.

            Damaskinos draws closer now, stepping into the light.  Bright
            eyed with smile like moonlight gleaming off a knife blade.
            His skin is impossibly pale, almost marble-like, with
            traceries of blue blood pulsing underneath.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS (CONT'D)
</b>                      And the late Abraham Whistler.  I trust
                      your time amongst our numbers was
                      agreeable?

            Whistler glares at Damaskinos.  The two men stare at each
            other a moment, sizing one another up.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS (CONT'D)
</b>                          (smiling knowingly)
                      It has been said, you may have enemies
                      whom you hate, but not enemies whom you
                      despise.  Be proud of your enemy: then
                      his success shall be yours, too.  In
                      that regard, I should thank you.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      For what?

<b>                                STEVENS (O.S.)
</b>                      Eliminating Deacon Frost.

            CARTER STEVENS, an officious-looking familiar who has been
            quietly watching from the wings now steps forward.

<b>                                STEVENS (CONT'D)
</b>                      All that unseemly business with LaMagra.
                      You did us a favor.
                          (offering his hand to Blade)
                      Carter Stevens.

            As Blade and Stevens shake, Blade notices a vampire glyph
            poking out from beneath the familiar's shirt cuff.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You're human.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                          (with a smile)
                      Barely.  I'm a lawyer.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      Mr. Stevens works with the National
                      Institute of Health.
                          (off Blade's look)
                      Given that they monitor the nation's
                      blood supply, a strategic alliance
                      seemed prudent.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      We also finance a number of humanitarian
                      organizations -- the National Institute
                      of Infectious Diseases for one, the
                      Human Genome Project...

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Why?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Survival.

            Blade and the others turn to Nyssa, who uses a complex
            mechanical key to activate a holo-projector mounted above the
            table.  As she focuses the image, a 3-D DIORAMA of vampire
            viral nucleocapsids swirls into view.  The nucelocapsids
            begin attacking human red blood cells.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      As you may know, Vampirism is an
                      arbovirus, one that's spread through the
                      saliva of parasitic organisms --
                          (motioning to the hologram)
                      In this case, vampires are the vector.
                      The virus replicates within the human
                      bloodstream, evolving its host into an
                      entirely new life-form.
                          (beat)
                      Unfortunately, viruses evolve too --

            As Nyssa talks, one of the viral nucleocapsids changes,
            mutating from its original, elegant design into a harsher,
            more menacing form.
            The mutated nucleocapsid begins feeding on the original
            vampire capsids, causing a chain-reaction of mutation.  In
            seconds, the holo-image is filled with throbbing, microscopic
            horrors which then mutate into  --

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      We've dubbed this new virus the Reaper
                      Strain.  And like any good pathogen, it
                      appears to have found a carrier -- a
                      "Patient Zero".

            A rotating 3-D image of Jared Nomak's face.  Eyes red, his
            skin in full "blood mode" blush.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      His name is Jared Nomak.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      Thiavolos, as we used to say in Greece.
                      The Devil.  Pure Thirst.  Nothing more.
                      He was born a vampire, but he is an
                      anomaly.
                          (to Blade)
                      Like you.  Unlike the rest of us,
                      however, he feeds on not just humans,
                      but vampires as well.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Seems like he's doing me a favor, then.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      You're missing the point.  Their vampire
                      victims don't die.  They turn.  They
                      become carriers.  If the Reapers
                      continue unchecked, there could be
                      thousands of them before the month is
                      over.  Do the math.

            Blade turns to Damaskinos.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      You want me to hunt them for you.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      Not alone.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      We've been training a small tactical
                      unit -- the Bloodpack.  We want you to
                      lead them.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Just how long has this little social
                      club of yours been together?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Two years.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Then they weren't created to go after
                      your "patient zero".

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      No.  They've been training to hunt you.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - DAWN
</b>
            Blade, Whistler and Scud enter through the loading elevator.
            Blade turns to Whistler.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What do you think?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Sounds like a plan.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What do you really think?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (lighting a cigarette)
                      These guys are shitting bricks cause
                      they're no longer on the top of the food
                      chain.  They're going to fuck us the
                      first chance they get.

            Whistler moves away.  Blade shrugs off his jacket, begins
            putting away his weapons.  Scud lingers, apprehensive.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      So you're going to do this?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Keep your friends close and your enemies
                      closer.  Isn't that how the saying goes?

            Scud follows Blade's gaze, watching Whistler, who has
            collapsed into a chair at the far end of the workshop.  The
            grizzled hunter pulls off his leg brace, then massages his
            bum knee.  Scud nods in Whistler's direction.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      I'm worried about him.
                          (off Blade's look)
                      Look, I know he's your friend, but just
                      watch him, okay?  Nobody goes cold
                      Turkey from the Thirst in a night.

<b>            BACK ON WHISTLER
</b>
            Surrounded by the salvaged parts and massive gears of long
            discarded machinery, half-hidden in shadow.  A shaft of
            morning sunlight cuts in through one of the windows, slowly
            moving across the floor towards his position.  He shifts in
            his chair, moving slightly --

            Away from the light.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. GAS STATION - NIGHT
</b>
            It's late.  An ice-encased streetlight HUMS and flickers.
            The pumps are vacant.  A heavy blanket of sooty snow covers
            the grounds of the station.  The fluorescents of the mini
            mart are the only beacon of light in an otherwise fog-bound
            night.

<b>            INT. MINI-MART - NIGHT
</b>
            A KOREAN WOMAN (30s) mans the counter.  Her TODDLER sits in a
            circular safety walker nearby.  The kind that rolls and is
            affixed with toys to keep a baby occupied.  The woman glances
            at two surveillance monitors.  On the first monitor we see --

<b>            A CAR
</b>
            pull up to the pumps outside.  A MAN gets out, slides his
            credit card through the reader, starts pumping gas.

<b>            ON THE SECOND MONITOR
</b>
            We SEE a FIGURE standing at the back by the Slurpee machine.
            The figure turns, approaching.  It's Nomak.  He sets a
            package of gum on the counter, looks to the baby.  He smiles,
            wriggles his finger.  The child COOS and smiles back.

            Unnerved by Nomak, the Korean woman quickly rings the
            transaction, gives him his change.  He removes a stick of gum
            from the pack, carefully unwraps it, slides it into his
            mouth, watching the child all the while.  Finally, he nods to
            the woman and leaves.  The door CHIMES as he exits.

            Beat.  The woman looks to the surveillance monitors again.

<b>            THE FIRST MONITOR
</b>
            The car is still there, but the man pumping gas is gone.

            Puzzled, the woman steps from behind the counter and moves to
            the glass doors, looking out --

<b>            HER POV
</b>
            The car's driver side door hangs open.  Even more disturbing,
            the hose for the gas pump lies untended on the icy ground,
            spilling fuel from its nozzle.

<b>            EXT. GAS STATION - NIGHT
</b>
            The Korean woman cautiously exits the mini-mart.  No one is
            in sight.  She hurries to the abandoned car, disengaging the
            lock on the pump handle, then setting it back in its cradle.
            She looks to the open driver's door.  A FEW DROPLETS OF BLOOD
            have stained the snow just outside it.  Then she sees --

<b>            A GHOSTLY FIGURE
</b>
            Standing off in the fog-bound shadows.  The woman looks back
            to the mini-mart, then back again to where the figure was
            standing.  But the figure is gone!  Growing increasingly
            anxious, the woman hurries back.

<b>            INT. GAS STATION - NIGHT
</b>
            The woman shuts the door, locks it.  But she's still just a
            target standing inside a well-lit glass box.  She moves to
            the safety walker, scoops up her child.

            After another moment's indecision, she slides the accordion
            style gate down over the doors and windows.  Then she turns
            off the lights.  Feeling somewhat more secure, the woman
            moves back around the counter and SEES --

            An unwrapped stick of gum resting on the tray of the baby
            walker.  It wasn't there before.  With a rising sense of
            dread, the woman backs away, bumping right into --

<b>            NOMAK
</b>
            He smiles cruelly, the scar/seam in his chin just beginning
            to part.  The woman gasps, turns to run --

            and bumps into THREE MORE REAPERS.  Gaunt and feral-looking.
            All three with shaved heads.
            No eyebrows, and hairline scar/seams running down their
            chins.  As one, the reapers descend on her.  We hear the
            child's TERRIFIED WAIL and we --

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. THE CITY - NIGHT
</b>
            A sulfur-colored moon shines its baleful light down upon the
            icy cityscape as NOMAK'S ROAR echoes through the canyon of
            buildings.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - BLADE'S SLEEPING AREA - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade is just finishing injecting himself with serum.  He
            sighs, falling back into the chair he's sitting in, waiting
            for the shakes to subside.  He unwraps a piece of rubbing
            tubing which he'd been using as a tourniquet, flexes his
            hand.

            The door to his room opens.  Scud stands there in silhouette.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Um, we've got company.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade emerges into the workshop proper with Whistler and
            Scud.

<b>            NYSSA AND BLOODPACK
</b>
            Stand before us.  They represent an assortment of ages and
            races, their one unifying characteristic being a callous,
            almost fanatical disregard for human life.  In short, these
            guys are the most stone-cold motherfuckers we've ever seen.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Well if it isn't Snow White and the
                      Seven Suckheads.

            Their leader, DIETER REINHARDT (30s), is a square-jawed,
            chiseled Austrian.  Next to Reinhardt is SNOWMAN, a wire
            albino, LIGHTHAMMER, a massive Blackfoot Indian, and PRIEST,
            a bald-headed modern primitive with copious piercings and
            facial tattoos.  Rounding out the bunch is CHUPA, a blunt
            featured Puerto Rican, and VERLAINE, a familiar-looking
            curvaceous beauty with bee-stung lips that exudes a predatory
            sexuality.

            (NOTE: Verlaine looks familiar because she is the twin sister
            of Raquel, the bodacious vamp played by Traci Lords that
            Blade killed in the opening scene of the first film.)

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Check it out, troops.  Count Chocula.

            The vampires LAUGH.  Asad quiets them with a look, then
            gestures to them in turn.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      Blade, this is Reinhardt.  That's
                      Snowman, Lighthammer, Priest, Chupa and
                      Verlaine.

            Reinhardt advances until he and Blade are nose to nose.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Tell me something, Chief.  Can you
                      blush?

            A tense beat.  Then Blade flashes a broad smile.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Alright, you want to play this game?

            Blade pulls out one of his silver stakes.  In response, the
            vampires reach for their weapons.  But Blade merely twirls it
            around his fingers.  Then tosses it to Reinhardt.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      You've been training two years to take
                      me out.  Here I am, the big, bad vampire
                      hunter.  So do it.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      What the hell are you doing, Blade?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      We're going to be working as a unit, you
                      people will be taking orders from me.
                          (spreading his hands wide)
                      So let's get it over with.  I'll give
                      you a free shot, Reinhardt.

            Reinhardt looks to Nyssa, uncomfortable.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Why are you looking at her for?  You
                      need permission?   I'm giving it to you.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Take him, cabron!

            Blade grabs Reinhardt's wrist, pulling the stake against his
            chest, fixing the vampire with the deadliest of poker gazes.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What's wrong, Reinhardt?  You need a
                      fucking manual?

<b>                                VERLAINE
</b>                      Do it, Reinhardt.  Do it!!!

            Reinhardt tenses, thrusting the stake forward -- but Blade
            has already whirled out of the way, trapping his hand, then
            violently twisting it backwards.

            Before Reinhardt even knows what's happening, Blade swings
            him around into a headlock.  In his free hand he's got a
            tiny, barbed flechette.  The barbs spring open like a tick's
            gripping mandibles as Blade drives the flechette into the
            base of Reinhardt's skull.  Reinhardt HOWLS in pain, but
            Blade just tightens his grip, choking off Reinhardt's air.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Listen up, Adolph, I just popped an
                      explosive charge in the back of your
                      head.  Silver nitrate.  Rigged to blow
                      if anyone tampers with it.  I'll be
                      keeping the detonator on me at all
                      times.  You so much as look at me
                      crosswise and I swear you'll be macking
                      your girlfriend's pie with a fucking
                      neck stump!  Got it?!

            Reinhardt lets loose a choked GRUNT.  Blade releases him,
            dropping the GASPING AUSTRIAN to the floor.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Any questions?

            No one says a word.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            WHISTLER
</b>
            Hefting a heavy ordnance case on the table.  Blade and
            company sit on one side, the Bloodpack on the other.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (opening a case of bullets)
                      Glaser safety rounds in .38, .45, and
                      9mm caliber.  Foil capsules at the tip
                      filled with silver nitrate grains.  They
                      pack a major kinetic energy dump.  And
                      since you suckheads don't like sunlight,
                      we've modified the entry lights with UV
                      filters --

            Whistler flicks on the entry light.  Then notices that Chupa
            isn't paying attention.  The vampire is looking at Snowman
            who is saying something in sign-language.  Chupa snickers.
            Whistler picks up a massive gun with a modified C-mag
            (hundred round cylindrical mag).  It has a strange electromag
            assembly barrel with shockwave ports running along it.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      This puppy here?  Hyper-velocity
                      railgun.  Spits up silver-tipped iron
                      core needles at six thousand butt
                      humping feet per second.  Like this --

            Whistler FIRES -- BA-BANG!  A SONIC BOOM rocks the workshop,
            SHATTERING a number of windows and computer monitor screens
            as a wad of needle rushes just millimeters past Chupa's face,
            embedding in the wall behind him.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Hey, hey!  The fuck you doing?!

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Getting your attention, Paco.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Well you've got it, warmblood.  Now what
                      the fuck are you gonna do with it?

            Blade clears his throat and stands.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      If you girls are finished flirting, I'd
                      like to get started.

<b>            MOMENTS LATER
</b>
            Blade, Whistler, and the Bloodpack are silently suiting up
            for war -- strapping on body armor, securing stakes and
            knives, CLICKING ammo cartridges into their various weapons.

            We SEE them lacing up combat boots, checking rifle sights,
            entry lights.  Blade dons one of his EDTA pneumatic
            gauntlets.  Whistler loads custom rounds into a shotgun.
            Then he reaches to clip on an ammo vest.  But his hands are
            shaking slightly and he can't seem to clip the locking
            mechanism together.  After a beat, Blade reaches over and
            does it for Whistler.  Like a son helping his father.  A beat
            passes between them, Whistler and Blade looking at one
            another.  Then Whistler nods, satisfied.

            As Blade crosses towards Asad and Nyssa, he stops by
            Verlaine, sizing her up.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Didn't I kill you already?

<b>                                VERLAINE
</b>                          (cold)
                      That was my sister.

            Beat.  Blade smiles coldly.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      This the part where you beat your chest
                      and vow revenge?

<b>                                VERLAINE
</b>                      Something like that.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Save it for the director's cut.

            Blade moves on, stopping before Nyssa.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Where to first?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      The House of Pain.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade, Whistler, and the Bloodpack are gathered on a rooftop
            overlooking a derelict city block.

<b>            THE HOUSE OF PAIN
</b>
            Rises before them, a Gothic Revival hotel marred by graffiti
            scrawls and boarded up windows.  There's a large neon "HOTEL"
            sign on the side of the building.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      From what we can gather, the Reapers
                      hunt in packs, targeting places where
                      vampires congregate.  So far, they've
                      attacked bloodbanks, safehouses,
                      underground clubs like this --

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      I don't see any traffic, no vampire
                      glyphs --

            Whistler lifts up a pair of night-vision binoculars and scans
            the building.

<b>            WHISTLER'S POV (THROUGH BINOCULARS)
</b>
            He scans the graffiti scrawls, doesn't see anything.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Look closer.  Because of your efforts,
                      we've had to re-think our habits,
                      tighten our security.

<b>            WHISTLER'S POV (THROUGH BINOCULARS)
</b>
            Whistler switches to infra-red.  A previously unseen Vampire
            GLYPH is now revealed, hidden amongst the haphazard graffiti.
            Just beneath the glyph are a pair of loading doors set flush
            into the concrete sidewalk.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (lowering binocs; to Blade)
                      Let's put this clusterfuck in gear.

            Reinhardt reaches for Whistler, stopping him.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      You're not going anywhere, greenjeans.
                      You won't be able to pass for us.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Like I give a shit.

            Before things can escalate, Blade steps between them.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (to Whistler; sotto)
                      He's right.  They'll smell that you're
                      human.  Stay here, watch our backs.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (bristling)
                      I don't like it.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      I'm not giving you a choice, old man.

            Whistler considers Blade's words, then reluctantly nods.
            Blade rejoins the vampires.  Reinhardt grins.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      You don't keep that dog of yours curbed,
                      Blade.  We might have to do it for you.

            Blade pulls out the remote for the flechette in Reinhardt's
            head, holding it up for view.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Keep pushing, asshole.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - UNDERGROUND ENTRANCE - NIGHT
</b>
            Nyssa leads the group into a loading area.  The only light is
            coming from a series of burning trashcans.  VAMPIRE SENTRIES
            crouch on the steps, watching, smelling Nyssa's group as they
            move past.  Adjacent areas are walled off with sheets of
            vinyl.  We hear the pulsing, bass-heavy beat of MUSIC coming
            from beyond the sheeting, beckoning us onward.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - UNDERGROUND HALLWAY - NIGHT
</b>
            The MUSIC is louder.  Neon-lit, corridor-long steel counters
            line both walls, displaying various surgical instruments
            offered as party favors.  As Blade's scans the area, we SEE
            the deadly instruments reflected in his sunglasses.  Nyssa
            looks to him.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      This is our world you're entering.  You
                      may see things -- feeding.
                          (off Blade's inscrutable face)
                      Just remember why you're here.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (cryptic)
                      I haven't forgotten.

            They reach a steel loading door emblazoned with warning signs
            -- the kind that is split horizontally, one-half retracting
            into the ceiling, the other into the floor.

<b>                                PRIEST
</b>                      So what are we looking for, exactly?

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      Anyone who looks suspicious.

            On that portentous note, Nyssa hits a button.  The hydraulic
            doors open on into --

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You gotta be kidding me.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            A high-ceilinged ballroom packed with SWAYING BODIES.
            Retrofitted into a trance-dance hall.  Off to the sides,
            people are being pierced, tattooed, ritually scarred.  Silver
            trays piled high with razor blades are passed through the
            writhing crowd.  Everyone looks suspicious.

            AN ELABORATE S&amp;M STAGE SHOW

            is under way.  Joel Peter Witkin channeled by Julie Taymor.
            A SHE-VAMPIRE hangs from the ceiling, her body supported by
            steel pins which have been hooked through her flesh.  THREE
            PVC-clad spindly FIGURES minister to her.

<b>            TWO VAMPIRES
</b>
            French kiss, exchanging razor blades with their tongues.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (to Nyssa)
                      What is it with you people and pain?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      We need it.  Sensations are addictive
                      and pain cuts the deepest.
                          (off his look)
                      Tattoos, piercings, tribal scarring --
                      because we regenerate, none of it's
                      permanent.  So we have to take it to the
                      next level. To remind us we're alive.

            The Bloodpack fans out through the trancing crowd.

<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            Drifting through the press of flesh.  Feral faces flash by
            us, distorted by the stroboscopic lights.  A SHE-VAMPIRE
            latches onto him.  He shoves her aside, keeps scanning faces.
            It takes every ounce of his restraint not to cut loose.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You reading me, Scud?

<b>            EXT. STREET - NIGHT
</b>
            A nondescript van with primer blotches is parked nearby.

<b>                                SCUD (O.S.)
</b>                      Loud and clear, B.

<b>            INT. OPERATIONS VAN - NIGHT
</b>
            The interior of the van has been outfitted into a mobile "op
            center".  Scud sits in a cluttered nest of electronic
            ephermera, munching on a bag of White Castle hamburgers.
            He's watching a video feed from a camera mounted on Blade's
            gear, listening to the Bloodpack's CHATTER coming in from
            various audio channels.  In the background, he's also got
            Barry White's "Love Machine" playing.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Everything's copacetic in the Mystery
                      Van.  How you doing, Whistler?

<b>            EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT
</b>
            Whistler is atop the roof of a nearby building, outfitted
            with a sniper rifle on a tripod.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Walking on sunshine, toke-boy.

<b>            WHISTLER'S POV (NIGHT VISION BINOCULARS)
</b>
            The view pans from the hotel entrance to Scud's van.

            Whistler puts down the binoculars, lights a cigarette.  He
            takes out a knife and slices open his palm.  He stares at the
            blood, his hand slowly trembling.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade works his way through the crowd.  The beat is getting
            heavier now, the crowd more energized.  He briefly makes eye
            contact with Nyssa, but then she's gone again, disappearing
            into the sea of flesh, ducking past one of the vinyl sheets
            into a corridor beyond.  Chupa, Asad, Snowman and Priest
            remain behind, searching the crowd.

            As Blade walks, he notices a series of grates beneath their
            feet.  We shift our POV --

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - DRAINAGE AREA - NIGHT
</b>
            -- and we are below Blade, looking up at him through the
            grate.  We are in a blood-encrusted drainage area just
            beneath the ballroom that slopes inward towards a large,
            octagonal iron culvert.  As we watch, a section of the
            culvert rises, a pair of RED EYES peering out from the
            darkness within.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - STAIRCASE - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade follows Nyssa up a narrow staircase into a corridor
            lined with gangrenous, peeling wallpaper.  Some of the room
            doors are shut, some open.  Clearly, many are occupied.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - KITCHEN - NIGHT
</b>
            A 1930s industrial kitchen filled with corroded equipment.
            Reinhardt, Verlaine, and Lighthammer work their way inward,
            searching the area.  Lighthammer carries massive war hammer
            like his namesake.
            Reinhardt nods to Verlaine, who opens a walk-in, shining her
            entry light over an assortment of rusting meat hooks.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - FIRST CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade checks more doorways, catching half-glimpses of FLESH,
            LEATHER, and STEEL.  He hears SOBBING, MOANS, WHISPERS.
            Then, a distinctly HUMAN WHIMPER catches his attention.

            Nyssa opens a door onto an empty room.  A vacant stainless
            steel examination table gleams in the center, waiting.

            Blade pushes open another door.  We SEE a fearful YOUNG WOMAN
            crouching in the corner of a soiled room.  A corpulent
            VAMPIRE in a leather apron is hosing down the floor.

<b>                                CORPULENT VAMPIRE
</b>                      Close the fucking door, buddy.

            Blade makes eye-contact with the woman.  She's clearly human.
            Blade tenses.  The corpulent vampire is getting irate when --

<b>                                CORPULENT VAMPIRE (CONT'D)
</b>                      I said, close the f--

            THUNK!  Blade throws a sliver stake into the vampire's
            forehead.  Even as the vampire turns to ash, Blade motions
            for the girl to leave and we're out the hallway again, Nyssa
            turning around.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      What was that?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (poker-faced)
                      Nothing.

            We SEE the woman duck out the room behind him.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - KITCHEN - NIGHT
</b>
            Reinhardt, Verlaine, and Lighthammer.  A Styrofoam cup rolls
            across the floor, blown by a breeze.  Reinhardt pauses,
            notices another walk-in freezer door ajar, moves in that
            direction.

            Unseen behind them, a door BEHIND THEM slowly swings open.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            Chupa, Asad, Snowman and Priest.  THREE SHADOWED FIGURES are
            lurking near one of the exits -- skinhead types, each with a
            hairline scar running down their chin.
            Asad silently motions to snowman and the others, indicating
            figures.  Snowman signs something back.  The vampire trio
            starts towards them.

<b>            INT. OPERATIONS VAN - NIGHT
</b>
            Bored to shit, Scud plucks a joint from behind his ear.  As
            he fires up his woman torso lighter we HEAR SOMETHING just
            outside the van.  Scud kills the Barry White, listening.
            Silence.  Then, a FAINT SKITTERING.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Um, Whistler, you out there?

            No response.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                          (more urgently)
                      Whistler?

            Still no response.  Scud reaches for a handgun and creeps
            into the front of the van.  He looks out the windshield --
            nothing.  He looks left, then right - nothing.

            Unnerved, Scud returns to the back of the van.  He reaches
            for the handle of the rear door and abruptly jerks the door
            open, aiming the gun out --

            There's nothing outside the van.  But then Scud hears the
            SKITTERING AGAIN.  His eyes shift apprehensively to the floor
            of the van below him.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - FIRST CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            As they near the end of the hall, Blade notices a drop-down
            attic door in the ceiling above.  He unsheathes his sword and
            uses the tip to unlatch the trapdoor.  The counter-weighted
            door CREAKS and LOWERS, unfolding a sectioned ladder.  We see
            darkness beyond.  As Blade cautiously mounts the stairs --

            Nyssa's attention is drawn to a billowing piece of vinyl.  A
            BLURRY FIGURE is visible behind it.  Then it moves away.
            Nyssa ducks past the vinyl.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            As the music reaches a crescendo, Asad notices MORE SHADOWY
            FIGURES by another exit.  And even MORE by a third.  Snowman
            signs to Asad again, more urgently this time, as the first
            potential Reaper begins to turn and we are --

<b>            INT. OPERATIONS VAN - NIGHT
</b>
            -- back with Scud.  He ducks his head outside, looking
            beneath the van.  Nothing there.  Relieved, Scud shuts the
            rear door, laughs to himself.

<b>            A PAIR OF CLAWED HANDS
</b>
            Suddenly rip down through the ceiling of the van, peeling it
            up and back like it was tinfoil!  A REAPER with a bloody
            bandage covering his eye SNARLS down at us.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            The first skinhead figure spins towards us.  It's a Reaper.
            All three of them are, eyes wide with bloodlust as they leap
            at Asad and the others.

            Suddenly, the Reapers are everywhere, blocking the exits,
            ripping into their vampire victims, tossing them aside like
            toys.  Vampires scream and run, some taking to the walls as a
            means of escape, some racing across the ceiling.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - FIRST CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade stops half-way up the ladder as he hears GUNFIRE.  He
            drops back to the floor, then notices that Nyssa is gone.  HE
            pushes through the vinyl curtain and finds -- Nyssa forced
            back against the wall, wrestling with --

<b>                                SCUD (O.S.)
</b>                          (filtered; panicked)
                      They're here!!!!

            -- Nomak, who swings his head around towards Blade!  Blade
            FIRES his MACH pistol point-blank into Nomak's face, blasting
            the Reaper backwards --

            But Nomak is back on his feet in a split-second, SMASHING
            through a window onto the fire escape beyond.  Blade rushes
            to the window, looks out --

<b>            BLADE'S POV
</b>
            Nomak is scaling his way straight up the neon hotel sign,
            jumping from one letter to the next with lightning speed.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - KITCHEN - NIGHT
</b>
            A Reaper EXPLODES out from the walk-in, rather than the door
            behind them.  He leaps atop Reinhardt, SLAMMING him to the
            floor.  Lighthammer swings his hammer, missing the Reaper,
            taking out a chunk of the wall instead.
            Lighthammer swings and misses again, taking a chunk out of
            the floor.  Verlaine empties her automatic rifle into the
            Reaper even as --

            The Reaper turns on Lighthammer, catching the war hammer,
            Reaper's lower jaw disengages and splits open, revealing a
            freakishly enlarged esophagus lined with serrated, sharklike
            teeth.

            All of this takes a split-second.  No time for Lighthammer to
            react as the Reaper latches its grossly expanded mouth onto
            his throat and begins draining him before our eyes.  The
            Reaper SHUDDERS and the whites of his eyes bleed red as an
            ecstatic wave washes over him.  His pale flesh, pulsing with
            engorged veinwork, becomes flushed, turning crimson as --

<b>                                LIGHTHAMMER
</b>                      Ohmygodhe'sfuckingkillingmehe's --

            Lighthammer's face becomes increasingly pallid!  His face
            begins caving inward, shrinking as every millimeter of blood
            is vacuumed out of him.

<b>            BLOOD VESSELS
</b>
            Are popping up beneath the Reaper's briefly translucent skin,
            becoming engorged and dilated.  The veins continue to swell,
            racing up his neck, then branching out over his face, chest,
            and arms -- like an instant network of varicose veins.

            Verlaine retreats, horrified.  Reinhardt scurries backwards,
            then scrambles to his feet, running for his life into --

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            Chaos.  Vampire patrons flee.  The Bloodpack FIRE, unleashing
            a hailstorm of bullets, cutting into vampires and Reapers
            alike as --

<b>            EXT. FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade steps out onto the icy fire escape.  CRASH!  Nomak has
            dislodged the "H" from the hotel sign.  It comes HURTLING
            towards Blade, who ducks back into the center of the "O" to
            avoid being hit.  The "H" continues falling, SMASHING down
            into the street near the Mystery Van where --

<b>            INT/EXT. OPERATIONS VAN - NIGHT
</b>
            Scud unloads his handgun into the Reaper atop the van.  The
            Reaper should turn to ash, but it doesn't!  Scud flees,
            DIVING into the front of the van, ducking behind the wheel.
            He keys the ignition --

            WHAM!  Now the Reaper is atop the hood, SMASHING his feet
            through the windshield.  Scud SCREAMS as he slams the van
            into the drive and floors the pedal --

            WK-KRUNCH!  Scud CRASHES the van against the side of a
            building, pinning the Reaper between the van's front bumper
            and the crumbling wall.  He keeps his foot on the gas pedal,
            GRINDING the van's wheels.

            This gambit should cut the Reaper in half, or at the very
            least, fatally wound it -- but it only enrages it further.
            The Reaper stretches forward across the van's crumpled hood
            and resumes BATTERING away at the cracked windshield --

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      UV headlights, c'mon, come on!!!

            Scud fumbles for the headlights.  They won't go on!  Then he
            notices a mess of wiring haphazardly duct-taped together.  He
            reaches for the wiring, fiddling with it --

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      FuckmefuckmefuckmeFUCKME!!!!

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            The Reaper nearest Priest turns in his direction.  We
            recognize her as the Nurse from the bloodbank.  She LEAPS at
            Priest --

            Priest fires a Glaser round through the she-Reaper's head.
            The Reaper twists in mid-leap, falls to the floor, then picks
            herself up again.  Like Scud's Reaper, she seems unaffected
            by the custom-made ammo.

<b>            ON THE OTHER MEMBERS OF THE BLOODPACK
</b>
            Having similarly disastrous results.  The Reapers are
            shrugging off their firepower.  Asad leaps, snapping a
            Reaper's neck with a spinning heel kick, but the Reaper keeps
            coming!

<b>            BACK TO THE PRIEST
</b>
            Alarmed, reaching for a specialized shotgun instead.  The
            Reaper continues forward, moving so fast she almost seems a
            blur as BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM!  Priest pumps his shotgun
            repeatedly.  Two projectiles fire out, chained together by a
            length of titanium cable.  The cable catches the Reaper in
            the mid-section, cutting it clean in half!

            The upper half of the Reaper falls, then rights itself,
            landing on its clawed hands.
            Impossibly, the she-Reaper keeps coming!  She skitters
            towards Priest on his hands like the half-man from Todd
            Browning's "FREAKS".

            The half-Reaper launches itself at Priest, hitting him in the
            chest, knocking him back to the floor.  Priest panics as he
            struggles with the thing, trying to fend off its claws and
            fangs as it locks its mouth into his arm.  He SCREAMS.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. VAN - NIGHT
</b>
            As Scud continues to fiddle with the faulty headlight wiring,
            the windshield finally SHATTERS beneath the Reaper's pounding
            fists.  It latches onto Scud's collar and pulls him forward
            over the wheel even as the seam/scar in its chin splits apart
            and the Reaper's enlarged maw flowers open.  Scud is just
            centimeters away from having his face being bitten off when --

            -- the wires SPARK and the headlights come on, illuminating
            the Reaper in a wash of UV light!  The effect is
            instantaneous.  The Reaper HOWLS and lets go, then promptly
<b>            BURSTS INTO FLAMES.
</b>
            Scud cups his ear, shouting via the comm system.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Use your entry lights!  They can't stand
                      the UV!!!

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BASEMENT - NIGHT
</b>
            Asad hears Scud's message as he continues fending off a
            Reaper's attack.  Then he manages to get hold of his rifle.
            He FLICKS on the UV entry light, aiming it at the Reaper's
            face.  The Reaper's head catches fire.  Asad SHOUTS to the
            others --

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      Use your entry lights!

            One by one, the members of the Bloodpack CLICK ON the entry
            lights mounted atop their guns.  It's working -- the UV beams
            are the only thing that seems to be driving the Reapers back.

<b>            EXT. HOUSE OF PAIN - ROOF - DAWN
</b>
            BOOM!  Blade kicks open the roof access door.  He hurries
            outside, followed by Nyssa, who hesitates when she SEES --

<b>            THE SUN
</b>
            beginning to rise beyond the cityscape horizon.  Nomak is
            already at the opposite side of the building, moving fast.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (into com-link)
                      Whistler!  He's heading across the roof!
                      Take him!

            Nyssa falls back into the shadows as Blade continues onward,
            unsheathing his sword.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Whistler!!!

<b>            EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT
</b>
            Whistler's sniper rifle and binoculars have been abandoned
            and --

<b>            EXT. HOUSE OF PAIN - ROOFTOP - DAWN
</b>
            We're back with Blade as he chases Nomak across the roof.

<b>            UP AHEAD
</b>
            Nomak abruptly stops, having reached the end of the roof.
            The nearest neighboring rooftop is too far away and the drop
            from this last ledge looks unsurvivable, even for someone
            like Nomak.

            As Blade cautiously advances, Nomak turns around and smiles --
            a wolfish grin, unnaturally wide.  The Reaper's face is
            beginning to smoke beneath the rising sun's rays.  In
            response, a polarized nictomembrane slides down over Nomak's
            irises -- like something you'd see on a crocodile to protect
            its eyes from harsh light.

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                      Is the enemy of my enemy my friend or my
                      enemy?  What do you think, Blade?  What
                      am I to you?

            Nomak LAUGHS, then LUNGES, scooping up a rusty iron bar that
            lies nearby.  He swings it at Blade.  Blade parries and steps
            backward, taking a blow to the head in the process, then
            another to the side.

            The two of them exchange a flurry of blows back and forth
            until their weapons lock and they are face to face.  Nomak's
            back is to the rising sun, now.  His whole body is beginning
            to lightly smoke.

            Both men are trembling, straining against their weapons,
            using every ounce of strength to keep the other at bay.  And
            just when it looks like Nomak is gaining the upper hand --

<b>                                NOMAK (CONT'D)
</b>                      Athelfiki singenia ex amato.

            -- Blade pivots the flat edge of his sword upwards, catching
            the light of the rising sun, reflecting it directly into
            Nomak's eyes!

            Nomak SCREAMS and rears back, his face catching fire.  Then
            he stumbles backwards and falls -- right off the ledge of the
            roof!  Blade hurries to the roof's ledge and looks down --

            But the Reaper is nowhere in sight.  Dumbfounded, Blade
            retreats, haunted by the conviction that Nomak is still
            alive.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - BALLROOM - DAWN
</b>
            Blade has returned to the scene of the melee.  The Reapers
            have fled, leaving Nyssa and the others to lick their wounds
            and survey the carnage.  Quite a few full-body ash outlines
            marking the passing of various vampires.  Blade approaches
            Nyssa.  She notices his wounds.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      You're hurt.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (brushing off her concern)
                      I'll heal.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      What about Nomak?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      He escaped.  You didn't tell me they
                      were immune to silver and garlic.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      I didn't know.

            Beat.  Tense.  Does he trust this woman?  No way.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      We lose anybody?

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                      Lighthammer and --

            Just then, we hear an unearthly SCREAM.

<b>            ANGLE ON
</b>
            Priest, being held down by Chupa and Snowman.  He's thrashing
            about, clutching his wounded, infected arm.

<b>                                PRIEST
</b>                      Oh god, oh God it hurts!  It hurts, it
                      hurts, fuck, it hurts.  Ugh!

            Priest lets loose an agonized SCREAM as Blade and the others
            gather around him.  He's undergoing a horrific change, taking
            on the gaunt, vein-engorged features of a proper Reaper.  He
            SNARLS and WAILS, GNASHING his teeth like a rabid animal.

            Reinhardt and his team look uneasy.  Shaken by their
            teammate's downward progression.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      how long since he was bitten?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Minutes.

            Blade draws closer.  Already, the flesh on Priest's chin is
            splitting as a seam begins to form.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      It's already changing him --

            Reinhardt paces, annoyed by Priest's WAILING.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Jesus, can't you get him to shut the
                      fuck up!?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                          (gravely)
                      His blood cells aren't producing oxygen
                      anymore.  His own body is suffocating
                      him.  These things are like crack
                      addicts.  If they don't feed every few
                      hours, they'll feed on themselves.

            As if in response, Priest starts convulsing.  His flesh
            tightens, drawing taut around his increasingly skeletal form.
            His screams become unbearable, twisting into a high-pitched
            ululation that's making the Bloodpack's skin crawl.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Somebody put him out of his misery for
                      fuck's sake!

<b>                                VERLAINE
</b>                      You kill him!  I'm not killing him!

            Asad pulls out his handgun and empties the clip into Priest's
            body -- but Priest keeps SHRIEKING.

            Unnerved, Reinhardt unsheathes a machete, decapitating Priest
            even as the others protest.

            The headless body continues thrashing, still making noise
            from it's open throat!  If anything, it seems to be
            redoubling its efforts.  It LURCHES forward, jerking itself
            free from Chupa and Snowman's restraining arms.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Mierda!!

            The juddering horror that used to be Priest staggers to its
            feet.  Reinhardt and his men panic, stumbling backwards.  The
            headless monstrosity LUNGES STRAIGHT AT --

<b>            BLADE
</b>
            Without batting an eye, he draws his MACH pistol, briefly
            aiming at the on-rushing creature's chest, then adjusting his
            aim to one of the blacked-out windows above and behind it.

            BAM!BAM!BAM!  Blade shoots out the window and BLAZING SHAFT
            OF SUNLIGHT slices down through the darkness, spotlighting
            Priest like an ant beneath a magnifying glass.

            FWASH!!!  The headless body is incinerated in mid-step.  It
            collapses to the floor, just inches before Blade.  One of its
            blackened claws feebly grabs Blade's boot, then grows still.

            Beat.  You could hear the pin drop in the silence that
            follows, every one of the Bloodpack thinking some variation
            of "there but for the grace of God go I".  Asad lays a hand
            on Nyssa's shoulder, steadying her.

            Blade shifts his foot, causing the cinder-like hand gripping
            his boot to crumble to dust.

<b>                                WHISTLER (O.S.)
</b>                      If this is the best you turd-stains have
                      to offer, I'm not impressed.

            Blade looks over to see Whistler, who is just entering.  He
            moves over to him, angry.  Chupa follows, equally pissed.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      I thought you were supposed to be
                      watching our backs.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Ran into a little Reaper trouble myself.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                          (approaching, hostile)
                      Oh yeah?  Like how little?  In case you
                      hadn't noticed, we lost two men while
                      you were out farting around.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (poking Chupa in the chest)
                      You need to ratchet those 'nads of yours
                      down a few notches, paco.

            Chupa flushes with anger and flicks his knife across
            Whistler's shoulder, opening a gash.  Whistler goes ballistic
            and PUNCHES Chupa in the face.  A brief tussle ensues before
            Blade and the others can separate them.  As Chupa is pulled
            away by Asad, he looks back at Whistler.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Listen, hillbilly, you are a cunt-hair
                      away from cowboy heaven.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Ain't no thing but a chicken wing,
                      buttercup.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (still suspicious)
                      Where were you, Whistler?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      I'll show you.

<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - DRAINAGE AREA - CONTINUOUS
</b>
            Whistler, Blade and the surviving members of the Bloodpack
            are now gathered around the octagonal iron culvert just
            beneath the ballroom.  Whistler turns on a flashlight.  We
            HEAR something moving in the darkness.  The group tenses,
            then Whistler's flashlight beam reveals --

<b>            A REAPER
</b>
            Cowering by the culvert.  One we recognize.  The other
            vampire guard from the bloodbank, now transformed.  He's
            shrunken and emaciated, pale.  And although he's obviously
            dying, he still HISSES, his fanged mouth snapping
            ineffectually at them.  His arm has been trapped -- pinned
            under one of the sectional culvert coverings.  It looks like
            he's been trying to gnaw it off in order to escape.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      What the hell?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      I found him like this.  I think he was
                      trying to crawl back into that culvert.

            Blade looks to the culvert in question.  He pulls back one of
            the sectioned covers.  The opening is about two feet wide,
            just large enough for a man to gain access.

<b>            INT. SEWER/OUTFLOW AREA - CONTINUOUS
</b>
            Blade drops into the sewer line.  The area is claustrophobic,
            damp.  There are torn pieces of insulation hanging from the
            ceiling, saturated and dripping with blood.

            Blade crouch-walks further in.  We hear WIND.  He shines his
            FLASHLIGHT.  A portion of the brick wall looks like it's been
            clawed open.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                          (calling down)
                      Everything okay?

            Blade retreats back to the drain-pipe, pulling himself back
            up.  We HOLD for a beat, then drift up to the blood-saturated
            strips of insulation.  SOMEONE is crouched in the shadows
            there, clinging to the ceiling upside down.

            It's NOMAK, red-eyes shining in the darkness.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. DAMASKINO'S LAIR - BATHHOUSE - DAY
</b>
            We are in a previously unseen portion of Damaskino's vast
            bedroom.  An elegantly tiled pool area has been partitioned
            off by a series of latticed screens.  In the counterpoint to
            this are a series of muted monitors tuned to the pulse of the
            world -- CNN, MSNBC, C-SPAN, etc.

            Damaskinos sits in a robe, finishing a meal, his eyes
            flicking over the monitors -- tracking current events, market
            fluctuations.  We get the sense that the man is a true
            polymath.  That he owes his five thousand-plus years of
            existence to resourcefulness rather than luck.

            Stevens enters, waiting to be acknowledged.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      Yes?

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      They've made contact with the Reapers.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      Any casualties?

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      Two so far.

            Unconcerned, Damaskinos slices into a piece of raw meat.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                          (reverting to English)
                      An inevitability, I suppose.  Nyssa was
                      not among them, I trust.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      No.  This is a dangerous game, you're
                      playing, Damaskinos.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      Any game worthy of being played is.  One
                      must be patient.  In this way, I have
                      outlived my enemies.  All of them.

            Damaskinos steps beyond the screens now, into the pool area --
            and although we can't see the water from this angle, we can
            see patterns of ruby light flickering off the tiled walls.
            Stevens follows, uncomfortable.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      Blade's too volatile.  You're not going
                      to be able to keep manipulating him --

            Damaskinos steps into the steaming liquid, which we now see
            is BLOOD.  His robe spreads out, floating on the surface.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      You worry too much, Stevens.  I have
                      assurance from our friend inside that
                      events are unfolding as scripted.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      As scripted?  You've already lost two of
                      your own.  How many more are you willing
                      to sacrifice?

            Damaskinos sinks until he's waist-deep in the crimson fluid.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      As many as it takes.
                          (pointing)
                      Do you see that jar over there?

            Stevens looks to a shelf where a gold and crystal Coptic jar
            rests.  A HUMAN HEART floats within.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS (CONT'D)
</b>                      It contains my human heart --
                          (touching a pale scar on his
                           chest)
                      Something I relinquished a long time
                      ago.  Only a fool would appeal to it
                      now.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - CELL - NIGHT
</b>
            The dying Reaper has now been chained inside the cell.  It
            WHEEZES and MOANS, clearly in agony.  Blade and Nyssa stand
            watch.  Blade grips the Reaper beneath its jaw, turning its
            face towards us.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Recognize him?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                          (nodding)
                      From the surveillance footage in the
                      bloodbank.  He was one of the guard's
                      Nomak attacked.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Which means he turned about seventy-two
                      hours ago.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Right.  So why is he dying?  He doesn't
                      appear to have any broken bones, no
                      entry wounds of any kind -- what's
                      killing him?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Time.

            Blade nicks the Reaper's carotid artery with a knife.  CLEAR
            SERUM oozes out, no red blood cells at all.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      No hemoglobin left.
                      Their metabolisms are too fast.  They
                      burn out.  That's why they're having to
                      feed so often.  Their systems are self
                      destructing.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      If that's true, what about Nomak?  He's
                      been alive longer than the others.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Nomak's different.  He's the carrier.
                          (shaking his head)
                      There's something driving him beyond the
                      Thirst.  Something we're missing.

            As they watch, the Reaper shakes through its final death
            throes, then grows still, the nictomembranes over its eyes
            slowly sliding down.

<b>            MOMENTS LATER - A SERIES OF ISOLATED CLOSE-UPS
</b>
            A pair of GLOVED HANDS spreads apart the Reaper's eyelids.
            In response, the protective nictomembrane slides mechanically
            down over the pupil.

<b>                                NYSSA (O.S.)
</b>                      They appear to have a nictating membrane
                      here, like you'd see on a crocodile or
                      camel.  Shields the eyes from sunlight.

            The hands now part the Reaper's mouth, probing the seam in
            the chin, then splitting the mandible apart to reveal the
            enlarged esophagus.  The fingers push back on the gums and
            the pressure-sensitive fangs extend even further in response.

<b>                                NYSSA (O.S.) (CONT'D)
</b>                      A bifurcated mandible.  More developed
                      masseter muscles and zygomatic bones
                      around the mouth allowing for a much
                      larger, stronger bite --

<b>            PULL BACK TO REVEAL
</b>
            Blade, Nyssa, and Scud are gathered around the autopsy table.
            The rest of the crew linger further back.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      Epidermal layers are thicker, tougher --

            Nyssa begins the Y-incision along the chest.  Once again,
            CLEAR SERUM oozes out.  She cracks open the thoracic cavity.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Ho-lee shit.

            We SEE inside the abdominal cavity.  A complex, pinkish/gray
            parasitic organism has taken over every organ visible.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      I've never seen anything like this.  The
                      Reapers are as different from us as we
                      are from you.
                          (probing the organism)
                      It's almost as if the virus is re-wiring
                      their bodies, creating new, parasitic
                      organs which consume the old ones.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Like cancer with a purpose.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Exactly.  Look at the digestive system.
                      It's been drastically simplified.  Super
                      charged.  And this --

            She pulls back the lungs -- a calcified structure encasing a
            fibrous mass rests where the heart would normally be.  She
            taps the calcified structure with a scalpel.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      The heart is completely encased in bone.

            She tries to cut into the bony shell and the scalpel snaps.
            Scud WHISTLES, impressed.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Good luck getting a stake through that.

            Blade studies the Reaper corpse, then looks to the Bloodpack.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      We've got six hours till sunrise.  Be
                      ready by then.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      What happens at sunrise?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      We take up the hunt again.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      You gotta be fucking joking.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You've seen what we're up against.
                      Daylight's the only advantage we've got.
                      They'll be more vulnerable then.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                          (pointedly)
                      And so will we.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Look, I care about the humans who are
                      dying, not you, got it?

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                          (snarling)
                      Spare me the race card, OJ.  We're not
                      going out into the sun.  It's too risky.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You don't have a choice.  You're just
                      going to have to protect yourselves as
                      best you can.

            Blade spins and leaves.  Whistler follows.  Nyssa watches
            them disappear into Blade's room.  Reinhardt and the other
            vampires approach her.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      You buying any of this chocolate Elvis
                      bullshit?

            Nyssa just stares him down, obviously conflicted.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      This guy doesn't know what the fuck he's
                      doing.  We already lost Priest and
                      Lighthammer, who's gonna be next?  Fuck
                      him.  Fuck his rules.  First chance I
                      get, I'm chowing down on that fucking
                      HeeHaw sidekick of his.

            Snowman signs something to Verlaine.

<b>                                VERLAINE
</b>                      What do you think, Asad?

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                          (pointedly)
                      I don't think.  I follow orders.

            Asad looks to Nyssa once more -- perhaps he's even concerned
            now.  She's still staring in the direction Blade left.


<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - BLADE'S SLEEPING AREA - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade sits in the shadows, wrapping a piece of rubber tubing
            around his arm, injecting himself with pneumatic syringe of
            serum.  He shivers, convulses violently, then throws back his
            head in relief.  When he does so, he SEES --

            Whistler standing in the doorway.  They eye each other a
            moment as Blade unwraps the tubing from his arm, puts away
            his syringe and serum.  Whistler lights a cigarette, then
            nods through a window towards Nyssa and the others.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      You ask me, you and Miss Muffet are
                      getting a mite too cozy for my taste.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      I wouldn't worry about it.

            Blade moves to walk away, but Whistler stops him.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      I am worrying.  Seems to me, you're
                      starting to get confused as to which
                      side of the line you're standing on.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Pretty hollow words coming from a man
                      who spent the last year running with the
                      enemy.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      What the hell is that supposed to mean?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      It means I'm starting to wonder if the
                      vampires still have their hooks in you.
                      You've been acting strange ever since I
                      gave you the cure.  Reckless, quick to
                      anger --
                          (beat)
                      You said it yourself, Whistler.  Those
                      vampires knew our defense system
                      backwards and forwards.  Where'd they
                      get their intel?

            Whistler steps closer, his voice dropping to a lethal,
            whisper.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      I'm compromised?!  Me?!  I'm not the one
                      playing stink-finger with Vampirella out
                      there!

            Blade stares back at Whistler, calm as a viper.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You're out of line, old man.

            The two comrades in arms stare each other down.  Then,
            finally, Whistler backs away.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (quietly)
                      We'll see.

            Whistler turns and strides exits.  We HOLD ON Blade, torn,
            conflicted, watching Whistler retreat.

<b>            EXT. BLADE'S WAREHOUSE/SHIPYARD - NIGHT
</b>
            We SEE a FIGURE emerge from the shadows -- CHUPA.

<b>            EXT. CITY SLUM - NIGHT
</b>
            Chupa walks the night, scanning shadows.

<b>            CHUPA'S POV (VAMPIRE VISION)
</b>
            Like heat-vision, only tinged with crimson.  There are DRUG
            DEALERS and bottom feeding WHORES trolling for tricks out
            here, BEATING HEARTS and BRANCHING ARTERIES highlighted on
            their ghostly silhouettes.

            Chupa moves to the mouth of an alley, nodding to a DEALER.

<b>                                DEALER
</b>                      Lookin' to get hooked up?

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      What you got?

            As the dealer glances around to see if anyone's watching --

<b>                                DEALER
</b>                      Horse, Hawaiian ice.  Whatever you want.

            Chupa sniffs the air, glancing at a pulsating vein on the
            dealer's neck, and smiles.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Whatever, huh?  Well I'm all off the
                      hook on that bitch.

            Chupa steps into the alley with the dealer.

<b>                                DEALER
</b>                      So what's it gonna be?

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Fear.

            Chupa is at the dealer's throat before he can finish,
            flashing his fangs, shoving him backwards.  Then --

<b>                                CHUPA (CONT'D)
</b>                      I like a little adrenaline chaser.

<b>            WHAP!  A HAND
</b>
            Grabs a fistful of Chupa's hair, jerking his head back.  It's
            Blade.  He yanks Chupa off the dealer.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What do you think you're doing?

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Trying to feed, puto baboso!

            The dealer takes off as Blade swings Chupa around.  They
            exchange a couple of blows, then Blade knees him in the
            balls, twisting him around by his arm, dislocating it.

            Blade releases Chupa, shoving him forward.  Chupa's broken
            arm dangles awkwardly.  Furious, Chupa reaches for his .45
            with his good hand -- only to hear the CLICK of another gun
            as it's placed against the back of his head.

<b>            ANGLE ON NYSSA
</b>
            Standing behind him, looking grim and determined.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Do it and you die.
                          (Chupa considers options)
                      You heard Asad.  Until this is over,
                      these people are our allies.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Oh I haven't forgotten about Asad.  I'm
                      just wondering if you have.

            Chupa re-holsters his gun, then jams his dislocated arm up
            against the wall and resets it.  He backs away.  Nyssa
            watches him leave, looks to Blade.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      He's right about one thing.  We do have
                      to survive.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      You don't have to hunt to do it.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Really?  What are we supposed to do,
                      then?  Starve ourselves because we fee
                      on others in order to live?  What about
                      that scumbag you just let off the hook?
                      A nothing.  A drug-dealer.  How do you
                      justify saving people like that?

            Blade doesn't answer, just moves away.  She follows.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      You know the Thirst better than any of
                      us.  You're barely managing to tread
                      water yourself.  Living in a constant
                      state of pain, having to shoot up that
                      serum of yours.  That's not what I call
                      surviving, Blade.

            Off Blade's stony expression we --

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT
</b>
            The back of the workshop.  Scud takes a hit of weed then
            resumes working on one of the UV entry lights -- it's been
            taken half-apart and tweaked-out with cables and a crystal
            prism.  Whistler is there too, loading magazines.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (observing Scud)
                      The hell are you fiddling with there?

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                          (proud, succinct)
                      Tweaked the phosphor rod, modified the
                      collimated beam, wanna concentrate the
                      light, get something like a UV laser
                      going.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (shaking his head)
                      You're wasting your time, already been
                      tried.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Yeah, but you didn't have the Scudster
                      working on it, did you?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (testy)
                      Nope.  Back then we did not.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                          (unfazed)
                      So how long have you known Blade,
                      anyway?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Going on twenty years now.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Blade doesn't talk about the old days
                      much.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Blade doesn't talk about anything much.
                          (nodding to Scud)
                      What about you, though?

            Scud pulls up his T-shirt.  His abdomen is covered in a
            network of horrific scars.  Like something you'd see on the
            survivor of a shark attack.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      Pretty.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      I was backpacking.  Hooked up with these
                      two chicks who were off to see the
                      Burning Man festival.  We were gonna
                      take "E", have ourselves a little
                      freeball out in the desert.  You know
                      the riff, "Dear Penthouse, I never
                      thought this would happen to me, but --"

            Scud takes a Phillip and adjust some screws on the laser.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      Anyway, halfway through our Three's
                      Company marathon, Janet and Chrissy
                      started taking chunks out of me.  Woulda
                      died too if Blade hadn't shown up and
                      staked those mamacitas a new honeyhole.
                          (shrugging)
                      Things kinda fell in place after that.

            Scud jiggles the necklace of fangs around his neck.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      Took myself a few souvenirs, though.

            Scud triggers the modified entry light.  The light PULSES
            like a series of flash-bulbs going off, creating a
            stroboscopic effect as a wafer-thin, super-concentrated BLUE
            BEAM OF LIGHT slices through the shadows.  Scud looks to
            Whistler and smiles.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      Mmm-mmm.  Poppa's got a brand new bag.

<b>            EXT. CITYSCAPE - PRE-DAWN
</b>
            Beyond the shadowed skyline of monolithic buildings, the
            night is beginning to give way to dawn.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - PRE-DAWN
</b>
            Scud stands before the others.  He looks bleary-eyed but
            pleased with the night's work.  The fruit of their efforts
            are laid on a work table before them -- a half-dozen UV laser
            guns, along with a collection of UV flashbang grenades and a
            much bigger explosive device secured into a backpack carrier.

            Blade picks up one of the UV lasers.  He sights down the
            length of it.  Scud takes a power pack and slaps into the
            base of Blade's gun.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      The powerpacks have a limited charge,
                      maybe ten minutes of continuous use at
                      most.

            Nyssa gestures to the flashbang grenades.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      What are these?

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      UV flashbang grenades with plug-in
                      phosphor sticks --
                          (pointing to a backpack
                           carrier)
                      This is for the grand finale.  Wired
                      together a couple-dozen of those
                      puppies.  But I'd be careful where you
                      pop your load.  Might end up frying
                      yourselves in the process.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      What about you?  You're not coming?

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      After last night?  Dude, I'm a lover,
                      not a fighter.

            Asad looks to Blade.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      What good is all this firepower if we
                      don't know where they're hiding?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      We won't need to.  They'll come to us.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      How?

            Blade looks to Nyssa, who tosses Reinhardt an aerosol
            cannister.  He sprays a little, then wrinkles his nose in
            disgust, gagging.

<b>                                REINHARDT (CONT'D)
</b>                      This is fucking foul!

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      They're pheromones.  I infused them from
                      that Reaper's adrenal glands.  All
                      mammals use them to mark their
                      territory.  Even vampires.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Fuck that!  I'm not spraying some gash
                      hound's nut-juice on me!

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Trust me, the Reapers will key to it.
                      If we use this, we'll draw them out.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. HOUSE OF PAIN - DRAINAGE AREA - DAWN
</b>
            Beneath the ballroom gratings.  A high-angle shot looking
            down at the octagonal iron culvert around which Blade,
            Whistler, and the remainder of the Bloodpack are gathered.
            The mechanized, sectional portions of the culvert covering
            are GRINDING UPWARD, flowering open and apart like some blood
            and rust-encrusted gateway to Hell.

<b>            INT. SEWER/OUTFLOW AREA - DAWN
</b>
            One by one, the group of hunters descend into the
            claustrophobic chamber.  Verlaine is lugs the UV bomb on her
            back.  Blade leads them to the clawed-open portion of the
            brick wall, then on through.

<b>            INT. SEWER LINE - CONTINUOUS
</b>
            Blade leads the group along a grime-encrusted line which
            slopes gradually downward, sloshing through ankle-deep run
            off water collected from the city above them.  Tendrils of
            mist drift about, cutting their field of vision even further.
            Here and there, thin SHAFTS of SUNLIGHT cut down through
            cracks in the street above, requiring the vampires to
            cautiously circumvent them.

            They reach a four-way intersection of tunnels.  Blade pauses.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Time for Nyssa's pheromones.

            Blade opens a statchel.  Inside are a dozen distinctive
            aluminum atomizers.  He hands them out to the others.
            Whistler triggers a can, spraying a thin mist over his face,
            wrinkling his noses in disgust.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Eau de suckhead.  Tasty.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      We'll split into three units.  First
                      team that makes contact wins the prize.
                      Try to maintain radio silence from here
                      on out.

            Blade points to Chupa and Whistler, indicating the Eastern
            tunnel.  They head off.  Next, Blade directs Nyssa, Asad,
            Snowman, and Verlaine down the Western tunnel.  Blade nods to
            Reinhardt and starts down the Northern branch.

<b>            INT. EASTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            It's darker here, no shafts of sunlight slicing down from
            above.  Whistler turns on his UV entry light.  Chupa reaches
            out with his hand, partially blocking the beam.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Turn it off.

            As the shifting patterns of light and shadow play across
            Chupa's face we SEE his pupils contract and dilate
            unnaturally large in response.

<b>                                CHUPA (CONT'D)
</b>                      We want to attract them, not scare them
                      off.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Yeah, but you fangs can see in the dark.
                      What am I supposed to do?

            Chupa tosses Whistler a pair of night-vision goggles.

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Bifocals, grandpa.  And try to keep up.

            Chupa heads into the darkness, moving with uncanny speed.

<b>            INT. TUNNELS - VARIOUS
</b>
            We intercut between the three teams now, back and forth as
            they progress deeper into the city's bowels.

<b>            INT. NORTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Blade and Reinhardt trudge along.  The tunnel slopes inward,
            forming a V-shaped channel where a trickle of water flows.
            Blade notices SOMETHING bobbing in the water.  He nudges it
            with his foot and knocks it free.  It's a broken HUMAN TIBIA
            which twirls around, then flows past their legs.

            A few steps later on, Reinhardt notices SOMETHING ELSE.  He
            stoops into waist-deep water, picking up what he thinks is an
            isolated HUMAN RIB -- but ends up snagging a tangled mass of
            hair, mud, and bones.

<b>            INT. EASTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Whistler and Chupa move side by side.  Chupa is anxious, eyes
            darting about.  Occasionally, they come upon a transection
            with smaller conduits leading off to the right and the left.
            Then they reach a stooped, narrower tunnel and have to move
            single file.

            Suddenly, a BLAST of LIGHT and THUNDEROUS SOUND explodes
            above them.  They look up --

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                          (startled)
                      Shit!

            A subway TRAIN rockets by on a track just above them,
            pummeling them with soot and dust.

            Unseen by them, briefly illuminated by the flashing subway
            lights we see three Reaper faces, pale and haunting, hanging
            upside down.

<b>            INT. NORTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Blade and Reinhardt reach a dead-end where the tunnel has
            caved in.  A BERM OF HUMAN BONES slopes upward from the water
            -- skulls and ribs, vertebrae, tibias, metatarsi.  Blade
            kneels, inspecting them.  There are gnaw marks on them.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Must be hundreds of these skeletons
                      here.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      So?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      So I think you people may have
                      underestimated how many Reapers you're
                      dealing with.

<b>            INT. WESTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            As Nyssa, Snowman, Verlaine, and Asad cautiously move
            forward, Nyssa GASPS, startled by --

            HALF A DOZEN REAPERS laying on the tunnel floor before them
            in a stagnant pool of sewage water.  Dead.

<b>            INT. EASTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Back with Whistler and Chupa, Whistler is in the lead.

<b>                                CHUPA (O.S.)
</b>                      Hey,hillbilly.

            As Whistler turns around, Chupa SLAMS Whistler in the side of
            the head, swiping his night-vision goggles off.  As Whistler
            vainly searches for his goggles.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      What the fuck you doing?

<b>                                CHUPA
</b>                      Ain't nobody here but you and me,
                      chicken wing.  I'd say this is as good a
                      time as any to settle up.

            Chupa moves stealthily in darkness, violently KICKING the
            older man.  Whistler tries to crawl away, then reaches for
            his pheromone atomizer and locks it in the "on-position".  As
            Chupa continues to lay into Whistler we SEE the atomizer roll
            away, dispensing its contents.

<b>            INT. NORTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Blade and Reinhardt by the berm of human bones.

<b>                                NYSSA (O.S.)
</b>                          (filtered; over comm.)
                      Blade.  We've got six Reapers.  They're
                      all dead.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Fry 'em.

<b>            INT. WESTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Nyssa nods to Asad and Verlaine.  They train their UV lasers
            on the area where the Reaper corpses were -- but the Reaper
            bodies are gone.  And so is Snowman for that matter.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      What?  Where did they go?

<b>                                VERLAINE
</b>                      Screw that, where did Snowman go?

            Just then, we hear a NOISE from above.  Nyssa and the others
            whip their UV lasers in that direction.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Jesus, they were playing possum!

<b>            THEIR POV
</b>
            A HORDE OF REAPERS skitter away from the lights.

<b>            INT. EASTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            CLOSE ON the pheromone atomizer, the spray petering out.
            Whistler is beat to shit, bleeding from his mouth.  Chupa
            reaches for his handgun, whipping it out just as --

            Whistler's hands brush the damaged night vision goggles.  He
            swings them upward.

<b>            WHISTLER'S POV (THROUGH GOGGLES)
</b>
            Whistler has just enough time to register Chupa, the handgun
            pointed directly at him/us before noticing SOMETHING ELSE
            just beyond Chupa.

<b>            A DOZEN REAPERS
</b>
            Clinging to the ceiling above.  They drop down on Chupa like
            a pack of rabid dogs, literally tearing him in half.

<b>            INT. NORTHERN TUNNEL - DAY (20 YEARS AGO)
</b>
            Hearing GUNFIRE and SCREAMS, Blade charges back in Whistler's
            direction as --

<b>            THE BERM OF HUMAN BONES
</b>
            EXPLODE apart.  Reapers CHARGE towards them, hitting Blade in
            the chest, driving him backwards.  As Blade falls, his entry
            light swings upward, illuminating.

<b>            ANOTHER REAPER
</b>
            Drops down atop Reinhardt, knocking his UV gun into the
            water.  We SEE even MORE REAPERS converging in on them from
            the side tunnels in a cacophony of SHADOW and NOISE.

<b>            INT. WESTERN TUNNEL - DAY (20 YEARS AGO)
</b>
            Verlaine, Nyssa and Asad are FIRING their UV lasers.  The
            pumping flashes of their guns throw crazy shadows in every
            direction.  Adding to the unbridled chaos of strobing light
            and NOISE.  More and more Reapers are swarming towards them,
            moving towards us at an unearthly clip!  Nyssa and her
            compatriots retreat, running for their lives.

<b>            A REAPER
</b>
            Leaps, landing on Verlaine's back.  It grabs her head and
            deftly SNAPS her spine in half with a sickening CRUNCH!

<b>            INT. EASTERN TUNNEL - DAY (20 YEARS AGO)
</b>
            Whistler panics, backing away from the SOUNDS of the reapers
            slaughtering Chupa.  He finds his gun, flicks on the UV entry
            light --

            And just like that, the attacking reapers have vanished.
            Whistler whirls about, sweeping the UV beam around, but all
            he SEES is darkness.

            Then, a bone-chilling WHISPER cuts through the shadows.

<b>                                NOMAK (O.S.)
</b>                      Whistler.

            Whistler spins.  NOMAK RIGHT BEHIND HIM.  As Whistler whips
            the UV gun up, Nomak stops it.  The beam is mere millimeters
            from the Reaper's face -- close enough to illuminate his
            nightmarish features, but not close enough to burn.

<b>                                NOMAK (CONT'D)
</b>                      If you survive this, tell your master.
                      My end is my beginning.

            In an eyeblink, Nomak is gone.  Whistler spins, shining the
            UV this way and that.  Alone in the dark.

<b>            INT. NORTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Blade FIRES his UV into a Reaper's torso.  As the Reaper
            incinerates, Blade spins, FIRING at a second Reaper --

<b>            ON REINHARDT
</b>
            Firing his non-UV weapon.  Two Reapers are closing in on him.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Take mine!

            Blade throws Reinhardt his UV laser and unsheathes his sword.
            Reinhardt sweeps the lethal beam over the two reapers.

            Blade retreats back into the water, calm, letting the
            creatures comes to him.  As they close in on him, he slips
            the tip of the sword beneath the surface of the water,
            waiting --

            As one, the Reapers converge on Blade.  He swings his sword
            up from the water, hacking away at them, using their own
            momentum against them.

            Reinhardt considers his options.  He decides to run for it --

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Reinhardt!

            Reinhardt races away, abandoning Blade.  Blade reaches for
            one of the UV flashbangs clipped to his harness.  He pulls
            the pin with his teeth and shoves it into an on-rushing
            Reaper's mouth as --

            Reinhardt slips on the wet concrete and --

            BANG!  Searing LIGHT fills the tunnel, instantly incinerating
            the Reaper.

            Reinhardt's unprotected face CATCHES FIRE.   He SCREAMS,
            falling back into the water, trying to douse the flames.
            ANOTHER REAPER lands atop him, dragging him down as --

<b>            INT. NORTHERN AND WESTERN TUNNELS - CONTINUOUS
</b>
            We hear GUNFIRE and SCREAMS coming from all directions.
            Blade retreats.  A reaper, fully ON FIRE from the UV
            explosion, races towards him.  As Blade decapitates it:

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (shouting into radio)
                      Re-group!  Re-group!

            Asad and Nyssa also retreat.  Nyssa pulls a pin on a UV
            flashbang, throws it behind her.  BA-BANG!  UV light fills
            the tunnels and --

<b>            INT. SEWER LINE - FOUR-WAY INTERSECTION - DAY
</b>
            Blade, Nyssa, Whistler and Asad abruptly find themselves back
            in the four-way juncture, knee-deep in water.  They quickly
            regroup, out of breath, riding adrenaline highs.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Where's Chupa?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Forget him, he's chunk-style.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      Same with Snowman and Verlaine.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Guess that perfume of yours did the
                      trick after all?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (quietly)
                      A little too well, I'd say.

            The others turn to look in Blade's direction.

<b>            DOZENS OF RED EYES
</b>
            are staring out at them from the darkness of the Eastern
            Tunnel.  Then we hear a HISSING SOUND coming from the
            opposite direction.  Blade and the others spin around --

<b>            MORE RED-EYED REAPERS
</b>
            are closing in on them from the West.  AND THE NORTH.  AND
            THE SOUTH!  There must be forty of them in all.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Perfect.  We got the whole fucking
                      Partridge family here.

            They retreat until they are back to back, each one of them
            covering their respective tunnel opening.

<b>            A REAPER
</b>
            Lunges at them from the North.  Asad triggers his UV laser,
            scorching the creature.  It HOWLS and slinks backwards.

<b>            TWO MORE REAPERS
</b>
            Attack from the East and the West.  Blade and Nyssa respond
            in kind, burning their assailants in mid-air.  But even as
            they fire, their UV beams weaken, the flashes of light coming
            from their barrels pulsing less frequently.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      Unless anybody has any bright ideas, I'd
                      say we're about half a battery away from
                      a reaper gang-bang.

            The foursome are managing to keep the Reapers at bay, but
            just barely.  Blade motions to Nyssa.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Give me the rest of the pheromones.

            Nyssa reaches inside her harness, handing Blade the remaining
            atomizers.  He crushes them in his fist, letting the fluid
            within spill over his face and chest.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      What are you doing?

            The Reapers become even more agitated, HISSING loudly,
            pressing in on them closer and closer.  Blade nods his head
            back down the Western tunnel.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Verlaine's body is back there somewhere
                      with the UV bomb.  If you train your
                      guns in that direction, you'll drive an
                      opening in their ranks.  I'll run for
                      it.  When the Reapers come after me, you
                      make a break for it the other way.

            Asad studies Blade with newfound respect.

<b>                                ASAD
</b>                      You won't make it.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (hefting his UV gun)
                      Then I'll die trying, won't I?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Blade.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Save it.  I don't want to hear your
                      words.  Let's do this NOW!!!

            The foursome spin, FIRING their UV lasers down the Western
            tunnel.  The Reapers SHRIEK, falling to either side, their
            bodies burning --

            Blade CHARGES FORWARD, firing his dying UV laser.  As he
            makes it past the line of Reapers, they start after him,
            driven into a frenzy by the pheromones.  The Reapers in the
            Northern and Eastern tunnels flood after Blade too, leaving --

            Nyssa, Whistler and Asad to contend with the Reapers in the
            Southern tunnel.  They discharge their weapons, shouldering
            Reapers aside, making a mad dash for freedom.

<b>            INT. WESTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Blade runs, splashing and stumbling through the water, just a
            hair's breadth ahead of the HOWLING Reaper horde.  Suddenly,
            the tunnel widens out into a larger chamber.

<b>            INT. SOUTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Whistler and the others FIRE BACK at the small group of
            Reapers which have followed them, rather than Blade.

<b>            ON WHISTLER
</b>
            cut off from Nyssa and Asad.  He spots a maintenance ladder
            and runs for it, dragging himself up the rungs.  A Reaper
            leaps up the ladder after him --

            Whistler reaches the top of the ladder, but his exit is
            blocked by a manhole cover!  It's STUCK!  Whistler swings up
            his shotgun, FIRING into the cover.

            The cover is BLOWN UPWARDS, sending a shaft of blinding
            sunlight down on the Reaper below him.  As the Reaper
            incinerates, Whistler scurries upwards to safety.

<b>            INT. WESTERN TUNNEL/CHAMBER - DAY
</b>
            Blade reaches Verlaine's half-submerged body.  He tears the
            backpack carrier off the dead vampire and hefts it onto his
            shoulder, charging up an elevated concrete embankment as --

<b>            INT. SOUTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Nyssa and Asad find themselves cornered.  Their UV lasers are
            shot.  The Reapers are closing in and we're --


<b>            INT. WESTERN TUNNEL/CHAMBER - DAY
</b>
            Back with Blade, the Reapers overrunning him.  They pile atop
            one another in a frenzied effort to get to him.  Dozens and
            dozens of them.  And still Blade struggles upward, lifting
            the UV cluster bomb triumphantly above his head, triggering
            the device.

            The world goes white.

            No explosions.  Just BLINDING, PURIFYING LIGHT leaving us
            with a retina-burn image of Blade's silhouette surrounded by
            Reapers.  In that brief instant, the Reapers are frozen,
            revealed as WRAITH-LIKE X-RAY IMAGES of bone and muscle.

<b>            INT. SOUTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            A BLAST-WAVE of LIGHT fills the tunnel, chasing its way
            towards Nyssa and Asad, overtaking the Reapers before them.
            Asad throws himself at Nyssa, knocking her into the knee-deep
            water, shielding her body with his own.

<b>            BENEATH THE WATER
</b>
            Asad still burns, flaring up and disintegrating from the
            surface on downward like a piece of liquid-drenched
            magnesium, bubbles streaming from his writing body.

<b>            INT. WESTERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Darkness, then patterns of subtle shadow and light as our
            vision slowly returns.  FWASH!  Blade strikes a FLARE.  In
            the sputtering aureole, the aftermath is slowly revealed.

            Blade crouches, unscathed, as if he were standing ground zero
            in the aftermath of Hiroshima.  Scores of Reaper ash-outlines
            radiate out from him, some of them flash-seared into the
            surrounding brickwork walls like permanent shadows.

<b>            INT. SOUTHERN TUNNEL - DAY
</b>
            Blade slowly makes his way down the tunnel, using the
            sputtering flare to guide him.  As before, he sees nothing
            but Reaper ash outlines.  But then, Blade sees --

<b>            NYSSA
</b>
            Bleeding and horribly burned despite Asad's sacrifice.  Blade
            crouches, scooping her up into his arms.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. HOSPITAL - INNER-CITY TRAUMA WARD - DAY
</b>
            BANG!  Blade kicks open a pair of doors, hurrying Nyssa
            inside.  He's carrying her limp form in his arms, having
            wrapped her in a blanket.  Blade himself looks like hell
            warmed over -- covered in blood, ash, and grime.

            He rushes her towards the ER, navigating through a maze of
            PATIENTS and VISITORS.  An ER NURSE approaches.

<b>                                ER NURSE
</b>                      Sir, you can't just --

            WHAM!  Blade shoulders the ER NURSE aside, barreling into the
            triage where bewildered DOCTORS and ORDERLIES wait.

<b>                                DOCTOR
</b>                      What?!

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      She needs a hypertransfusion.  NOW!

            Blade sets Nyssa down on an operating table, pulling off the
            blanket.  She's badly burned and she's lost an enormous
            amount of blood.  As we watch, she GROANS, revealing her
            fangs.

<b>                                DOCTOR
</b>                          (aghast)
                      God in Heaven.

            Just then, a POLICEMAN enters, gun drawn.

<b>                                POLICEMAN
</b>                      Alright, buddy, step away if --

            WHAP!  Blade slaps the cop's gun away and KICKS him in the
            chest.  The cop flies backwards, SLAMS into a bank of
            equipment, falls.  A NURSE SCREAMS.  In a near blur, Blade
            has his MACH out and pressed against the Doctor's forehead.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Do you want to die?

<b>                                DOCTOR
</b>                      Not particularly.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (holstering his MACH)
                      Then get your fucking team in gear.

            Blade unsheathes his sword, deftly drawing the edge across
            his wrist, opening a vein.  He cradles Nyssa's head, pulling
            her mouth to the wound on his wrist.  And as she starts to
            feed we pull back and --

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            EXT. THE CITY - DUSK
</b>
            The sun dips towards the horizon.  The shadows of the urban
            landscape lengthen and darken in time-lapse.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - SHOWERS - DUSK
</b>
            Blade stands beneath the showerhead, turning his face up into
            the scalding spray, rinsing the blood from his chiseled
            physique.  Crimson water circles the drain.

<b>            INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - BLADE'S SLEEPING AREA - DUSK
</b>
            Nyssa now rests on a cot.  Peaceful, the color having
            somewhat returned to her features.  After a moment, her eyes
            flutter open and she takes in her surroundings.  She is in
            Blade's austere bedroom -- there are tatami mats, a basin for
            water, a well-thumbed volume of Zen koans.

<b>            A SHAFT OF SUNLIGHT
</b>
            cuts through an icy window pane above, angling down near
            Nyssa's cot.  Dust motes swirl about it.

            Nyssa focuses on it.  Longingly.  Then she raises her arm and
            reaches towards it.  Closer, closer -- just barely extending
            her hand into the light.  Her fingertips blacken and smoke,
            yet Nyssa endures the pain for another moment.  Finally, she
            withdraws her hand, inspecting the damage -- then notices
            Blade watching her from the doorway.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Each day is a little life.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      "Each day is a little life.  Every
                      waking and rising a little birth, every
                      fresh morning a little youth, every
                      going to rest and sleep a little death."

            She looks back to the sunlight, wistful, sits herself up.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      Anyone else make it?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      I don't think so.

            Blade enters, kneeling by the edge of the cot, inspecting her
            wounds.  Studiously avoiding her gaze.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Thank you.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      For what?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      It would've been easy for you to let me
                      die back there today, but you didn't.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (shrugging)
                      I wouldn't read too much into it.

            She reaches for his face.  Blade stops her hand.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      You don't want to go there.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Why?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Because one of us is going to kill the
                      other before this ends.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      It doesn't have to be like that.  We
                      don't have to be enemies.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Get real.  I was useful to Damaskinos as
                      long as the hunt was still on.  Now that
                      it's over, all bets are off.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                          (pointedly)
                      If that's true, then why'd you save me?

            Blade stands now, moving to the ice-covered window, troubled
            by the question.  Damned if he knows the answer.  After a
            beat, Nyssa rises too, keeping to the shadows.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      Why do you hate us so much?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      I am a hunter.  A weapon.  It's what I
                      do.  It's in my blood.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Well it's in mine, too.  I'm a
                      pureblood.  I wasn't turned.  I was born
                      this way.  Just like you.  Am I evil
                      because I want to survive?
                          (beat)
                      What about a wolf?  What about any
                      predator?

            Nyssa pursues Blade, circling around in front of him so he
            has to face her again.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      The only difference between you and me
                      is that I made peace with who I was a
                      long time ago.  I'm not ashamed of what
                      I am.
                          (beat)
                      You haven't been hunting us all these
                      years.  You've been hunting yourself.

            Blade moves away.  She reaches for his shoulder.  He whirls
            on her, angry, traps her hand.  She tires to pull it free but
            he grips her wrist tightly, pulling her closer --

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      You're hurting me.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Pain cuts the deepest, isn't that what
                      you said?

            And closer, their faces are just inches apart now --

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Reminds you you're alive?

            And Blade kisses her, hungrily.  Nyssa responds in kind.  Her
            head drops low, her mouth finding the cords of his neck --
            sucking at his flesh, then sinking her teeth in deep and --

            WHAM!  Blade clamps a hand around her throat, slamming her
            head back.  A droplet of blood dribbles from her lips as she
            lets loose a breathless shudder.  She's in the ecstatic
            throes of the Thirst now, all reason gone.

            Blade reaches his other hand to her shirt, ripping it open as
            he runs his fingers across her breasts, then over her exposed
            rib cage.  He turns her around, forcing her against the wall,
            sinking his own fangs into the back of her neck.  She groans
            as we --

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            THE TWO OF THEM
</b>
            Naked on the tatami mats upon which Blade sleeps.  Skin
            beaded with sweat.  Breath steaming in the chill air.  He's
            atop her, moving inside her with measured thrusts.

            Nyssa's limbs are wrapped around him.  She claws at the
            expanse of his back with her fingernails.  Her mouth is
            locked on Blade's throat, then his is locked on hers.
            Together they drink, leeching blood from one another.

<b>            PULLING BACK AGAIN
</b>
            Nyssa clutching greedily at Blade like she never wants to let
            go.  Her soul is gone -- transported to that place we drift
            to when the euphoria overtake us and we're somehow able to
            transcend the horror of our fleeting lives.

            Finally, Nyssa GASPS, climaxing as she retracts her fangs
            from Blade.  Her head rolls to the side as her pupil --
            focused on nothing short of eternity -- dilate unnaturally
            large.

<b>            LATER
</b>
            Blade and Nyssa lie in each other's arms, awash in moonlight,
            blissfully dead to the world until --

<b>            SOMETHING MAKES BLADE STIR
</b>
            He sits up, listening.  Nyssa stirs beside him.  She moves to
            speak but Blade holds up a hand, silencing her.  Together,
            they slowly creep towards a nearby window where --

<b>            JARED NOMAK'S NIGHTMARE FACE
</b>
            is pressed up against the icy glass, staring back at them!
            Nyssa GASPS.  Blade draws back with a start.  But in the time
            it takes to blink, Nomak is gone.  Just then, we hear a
            NOISE.  Scud appears in a doorway, groggy.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      What's going on?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      He was here.  Watching us.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Nomak?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      He wants us to know he's hunting us now.

<b>            MOMENTS LATER
</b>
            Blade is at the computer workstation.  He activates the
            footage of Nomak he was viewing earlier.  He fast-forwards to
            a specific moment, then plays it back at normal speed.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Nomak said something to me before he
                      disappeared the first time --

            Blade points to the screen, saying the words as Nomak
            silently mouths them.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Athelfiki singenia ex amato.  At first I
                      thought he might've been using one of
                      the vampire dialects.  But it turns out,
                      it's Greek.  Do you know what it means?

            Nyssa shakes her head.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      It means "bloodbrother."

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      I don't understand.

<b>                                WHISTLER (O.S.)
</b>                      Well maybe I do.

            Blade spins, his MACH pistol up and ready to fire.  Whistler
            sits on the opposite side of the room, watching them as he
            smokes.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                          (to Scud)
                      Your security's for shit, kid.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Where the hell have you been?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Just out connecting a few dots.

            Whistler rises from his chair.  He flicks his cigarette butt
            into the shadows and fixes Blade with a heavy stares.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      Bangin' some vampire chick.  Kind of a
                      faux pas in our line of work, wouldn't
                      you say?  Hope you double bagged it, at
                      least.

            Blade is still guarded, not yet ready to lower his MACH.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What's your problem, Whistler?

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Why don't you ask your girlfriend?

            Blade looks to Nyssa, but she seems equally perplexed.

<b>                                WHISTLER (CONT'D)
</b>                      I did some checking on that Carter
                      Stevens character.  That familiar of
                      theirs who claimed he was with the NIH?
                      Turns out he used to work for them, but
                      he doesn't anymore.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Then who does he work for?

            Whistler gives Nyssa a rueful stare, then tosses Blade a
            research folder.  On the cover is the same red, double-helix
            logo we saw at Damaskinos' facility.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Some biotech outfit called Caliban
                      Industries.  They've been lying to us
                      since day one.  This Nomak fucker didn't
                      evolve.  He was designed.

            Nyssa look to Blade, imploring.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      I don't know what he's talking about.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      You expect us to believe that?
                          (to Blade)
                      Who you going to trust, Blade?  Me or
                      her?

<b>            EXT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - NIGHT
</b>
            A high-tech, heavily guarded industrial complex nestled
            within an expanse of unassuming wooded acreage overlooking
            the ocean.

<b>            INT. DAMASKINOS' LAIR - NIGHT
</b>
            Carter Stevens shuts down his computer workstation, then
            moves to the heavy oak door, glancing at a medical chart as
            he opens it.  When he looks up --

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      You?

            A fist PUNCHES Stevens in the face.

<b>            BLADE
</b>
            Stands in the entry way.  Whistler is behind him, holding a
            gun to Nyssa.  Scud is there, too.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (mobing in on Stevens)
                      Start talking, bitch.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      I don't know what you --

            Blade spins Stevens around, shoving his face against a glass
            case, crushing the man's nose, spiderwebbing the glass.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Nomak!  You created him!

            Blade clamps his fingers around Stevens' broken nose and
            twists it with a sickening CRUNCH.  Stevens SCREAMS, caving.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      Ohgodohgodohgod...
                          (in agony)
                      Alright, alright.  Yes, we did...
                          (gasping)
<b>                      PLEASE!  PLEASE!!!
</b>
            Blade releases him.  Stevens sinks to the floor, cradling his
            brutalized face.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Keep talking, Stevens.  Tell me why.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                          (sputtering)
                      The Shadow Cabinet.  For decades they've
                      been trying to find a way to rid
                      themselves of their hereditary
                      weaknesses.  Viral epidemiology,
                      immunochemistry.  Recombinant DNA was
                      the next logical step.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                          (genuinely horrified)
                      No, that's not possible.  They wouldn't
                      keep something like this from me...

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      Your father didn't want you to know.
                          (haltingly)
                      Something went wrong.  The Reaper strain
                      was too aggressive.  Then Nomak escaped.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      And we're supposed to clean up your
                      mess.  Fucking perfect.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                          (defensive)
                      Look, the fact that Nomak was
                      artificially created didn't make the
                      threat any less urgent.  He was still
                      out there, spreading the Reaper virus.

            But Blade's not concerned about that now.  He's got something
            more pressing on his mind.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      The genetic material you spliced into
                      Nomak --
                          (beat; almost fearful)
                      Where did you get it?

<b>                                DAMASKINOS (O.S.)
</b>                      I should think that would be obvious at
                      this point.

<b>            ANGLE ON DAMASKINOS
</b>
            Standing behind them.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS (CONT'D)
</b>                      We took the genetic material from you.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - ELEVATED CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            Damaskinos leads them down a corridor.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      Jared Nomak is your genetic brother.
                      And I suppose if you follow that line of
                      reasoning to its logical conclusion,
                      then these are your offspring.

            Damaskinos reaches to a nearby control panel, pressing a
            button.  A pair of massive doors slide apart, revealing:

<b>            THE EUGENICS CHAMBER
</b>
            We are in a vast, multitiered, temperature-controlled chamber
            -- equal parts 21st century medical facility and Hammer House
            of Horror.

            A network of catwalks look down upon the circular chamber,
            the center of which is dominated by a massive, steel cask,
            which is in turn ringed by a safety railing.  The operation
            looks not unlike a small-scale water purification plant, or
            perhaps a futuristic distillery.  Only in this instance, the
            liquid churning within the cask is HUMAN BLOOD.

<b>            TINY EMBRYOS
</b>
            Each no bigger than a thumbnail, line the walls of the
            chamber, preserved in credit card sized cryo-cases.  There
            are thousands of them, resting atop one another in racks with
            stretch from the floor on upwards.

            As Damaskinos removes an embryo from the rack, we see ANOTHER
            EMBRYO behind it.  That cryo-case now slides forward with a
            WHIR, taking the place of the one which Damaskinos removed.
            Like some kind of perverse vending machine.  God knows how
            deep they're stacked.  If thousands are visible, there could
            be tens of thousands in total.

            Damaskinos holds the translucent cryo-case up to the light.
            The Embryo within shudders, its tiny heart beating.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS (CONT'D)
</b>                          (proudly)
                      A new breed, begotten from your own
                      flesh.  Immune to silver, even sunlight.
                          (stepping towards Blade)
                      The wolves have lain with the sheep long
                      enough.  No more compromises.  No more
                      deals.  Only closure.

            BOOM!  We hear the tread of HEAVY FOOTSTEPS approaching.  All
            eyes turn towards a side corridor.

<b>            REINHARDT
</b>
            enters from the shadows, holding Scud's rail-gun.  Much of
            his face has been burnt away, leaving him with a ghastly
            death's head mask of blackened muscle and exposed bone.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Put it back in park, Blade.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Thought you were dead.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Seems like there's a lot of that going
                      around these days.

            As Reinhardt aims the rail gun at Blade, a DOZEN VAMPIRE
            GUARDS appear on the catwalks above, also taking aim.

<b>                                REINHARDT (CONT'D)
</b>                      Six-thousand feet per second, isn't that
                      what Whistler said?  Let's see you dodge
                      this one --

            Blade does his level best, pulling his MACH, squeezing off a
            SHOT even as Reinhardt FIRES.  BA-BANG!  Blade is hit in the
            side, spun clear around.  His shot goes wild, hitting one of
            the Guards in the head, turning him to ash as Blade himself
            falls to the floor.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Blade!

            Blade GASPS in shock.  The rail-gun needles have ripped a
            brutal hole through the side of his chest-plate.  He clutches
            at his flank, trying to staunch the blood that's seeping
            between his fingers.  As he sits forward, we see MORE
            FLECHETTES have embedded in the wall behind him, having torn
            completely through him.

            Whistler steps forward.  One of the vampire sentries LASHES
            OUT, striking him in the face with the butt of his rifle.
            Whistler sinks to his knees, stunned.  The guard disarms him.

<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            Gritting his teeth against the pain.  He reaches inside his
            combat harness, pulling out the remote detonator for the
            explosive flechette in Reinhardt's skull.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Kiss your ass goodbye, Reinhardt.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      You're wasting your time, Blade.  The
                      flechette's a dud.

            Scud crosses over to Reinhardt's side.  Whistler stares at
            him in disbelief.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      It was never supposed to explode.  All
                      it was supposed to do was make you feel
                      like you were in control.

            Blade's eyes darken with hatred.  Reinhardt laughs.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Thought you had me on a short leash,
                      didn't you, chief?  Only it turns out,
                      you're the one that's been on the leash.

            Reinhardt digs his claws into his scalp and tugs the barbed
            flechette from his skull.  As he does so, Blade's remote
            detonator BEEPS to indicate it's being tempered with.
            Reinhardt finishes removing it and sighs contentedly.

<b>                                REINHARDT (CONT'D)
</b>                      That's better.

            Reinhardt tosses the fletchette to Scud, who grins, flipping
            down his lower lip to reveal a vampire glyph tattooed on it.

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      See, I'm one of Damaskinos' familiars.

            Blade looks to Nyssa who averts her gaze.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      Yeah, your little cootchie knew.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      You little shit.  When did they get to
                      you?

<b>                                SCUD
</b>                      Back when Blade had me hunting down your
                      puckered old ass.  What's up with your
                      hair, anyway?  Fucking Willie Nelson
                      look-a-like?

            Scud punches Whistler in the face.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      Man, I so wanted to do that.

            Scud shakes his hand, which is smarting from the blow.  He
            looks to Blade now, angry.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      And you.  You never cared about me.  I
                      gave you everything.  All you cared
                      about was digging up the old fuck!  You
                      think they scoped out my security
                      system?
                          (chuckling)
                      I let them in.  Dude, I practically gave
                      'em the fucking keys.  I've been feeding
                      Damaskinos information the whole time.
                      Providing them with samples of your
                      genetic material -- helping them with
                      the Reaper program.  They're close,
                      Blade.  Right up against it.  Any day
                      now, they're all going to be Daywalkers.
                      And when that happens, well, let's just
                      say, I don't want to be on the losing
                      team.  You may be strong, you may be
                      fast, but in the end, you're just too
                      human, B.

            He pinches Blade's cheek.  Then he stands up.

<b>                                SCUD (CONT'D)
</b>                      So that's down and dirty.  Got anything
                      to say for yourself?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (weak, but defiant)
                      Two things.  One, I was on to you the
                      moment they turned you.  And two --
                          (raising the detonator;
                           smiling)
                      I switched that dud of yours back with
                      the real one.

            Scud has a split-second of terrified, wide-eyed realization
            before Blade pushes the button and BOOM!  The flechette in
            Scud's hand EXPLODES, blowing his body apart, spraying those
            nearest him with blood.  Primarily Reinhardt.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Son of a bitch!

            As the others react with varying degrees of surprise and
            horror, Reinhardt savagely KICKS Blade across the face.  He
            HITS Blade again and again, driving him down to the floor.
            Then he bends and tugs the sword from Blade's back-scabbard,
            preparing to cut his throat.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      Reinhardt!

            Reinhardt hesitates.  Nyssa takes a step towards Blade, but
            Damaskinos stops her.  Damaskinos gestures to his guards.
            They haul Blade up and drag him from the lab.  Reinhardt
            gestures to Whistler.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      What about him, then?
                          (crossing to Whistler,
                           handcuffing him)
                      Me and Hobo Kelly here have a little
                      unfinished business.

            Damaskinos waves dismissively.  Reinhardt takes Whistler
            away.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade is dragged into a large autopsy room.  The vampire
            guards lay him on a steel autopsy table.  He struggles
            against them, but he's just too weak from loss of blood.
            Eventually they get him secured, clamping his wrists and
            ankles into steel manacles which are affixed to the table.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - SECURITY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
<b>            CLOSE ON
</b>
            Blade's sword pommel as the booby-trap blades in the handle
            spring out.

<b>                                REINHARDT (O.S.)
</b>                      Nice.

            PULL BACK to reveal Reinhardt holding Blade's sword.  He
            gives it a few practiced swings, then runs his thumb along
            the blade.

<b>                                REINHARDT (CONT'D)
</b>                      How many vampires do you think he's
                      killed with this thing?

<b>            ON WHISTLER
</b>
            Sitting in the corner, his hands cuffed behind his back.  We
            are in a security station filled with surveillance monitors
            offering various views of the laboratory complex.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Not nearly enough, Fritz.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Keep talking, warmblood.

            Reinhardt KICKS Whistler in the face.

<b>                                REINHARDT (CONT'D)
</b>                      When I'm through with you, you'll be
                      begging for a dirt nap.

            Whistler spits blood and glares up at Reinhardt.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Been dead before.  Didn't much cotton to
                      it.  Tell you what, chicken shit.  You
                      do your worst.  We'll settle up after.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - EUGENICS CHAMBER - NIGHT
</b>
            Nyssa stands before the banks of vampire embryos, clearly
            troubled.  Damaskinos regards her.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      My child --

            Damaskinos moves in close to her, running a finger along her
            throat.  She doesn't acknowledge it.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS (CONT'D)
</b>                          (in English)
                      I would hate to think you were losing
                      your perspective.  Who do you think God
                      favors in the web?  The spider or the
                      fly?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Nomak said something to Blade in Greek.
                      Athelfiki singenia ex amato.  Where did
                      he learn that?

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      From his father, of course.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                          (horrified)
                      You experimented on your own, son?

            Damaskinos slowly tightens his hand around Nyssa's throat.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      I have fathered thousands of children in
                      centuries since I first walked this
                      earth.  Make no mistake, Nyssa.  Those
                      blood-ties mean nothing to me when
                      measured against the ascendancy of our
                      race.  Nothing.
                          (giving her an extra squeeze)
                      If you have any interest in remaining
                      alive, you would do well to remember
                      that.

            Damaskinos releases Nyssa.  She falls, GASPING for breath.
            He stares down at her with disdain, then exits.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            Damaskinos enters, followed by Carter Stevens.  The guards
            remain posted at the main entrance of the room.  Damaskinos
            approaches, looking down at Blade.

            Blade stares back at him, still defiant, but fighting a
            losing battle.  He's dying and he knows it.  His breathing is
            shallow.  It's an effort just to keep his eyes open.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      With every century, humans become more
                      repulsive to me.  Once, you were souls
                      to be taken, corrupted.  But you have
                      disgraced yourselves to being nothing
                      more than blood and meat.

            TWO SURGEONS snap on surgical gloves.  Stevens is enjoying
            seeing Blade helpless.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      We're going to harvest you, Blade.
                          (injecting fluid into Blade)
                      Bone marrow, organs, everything.  Your
                      tissue's too valuable to let go to
                      waste.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (weakly)
                      Nomak is still out there.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      True, but thanks to you, we know his
                      weakness.  We can keep him contained.
                      It's just a matter of time before we
                      hunt him down.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Too bad you're out of it.

            Damaskinos is amused by Blade's seeming lack of concern.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      And why is that?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Revenge.  That's what Nomak wanted all
                      along.  To pay back the people who
                      created him.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      You may be right.  Fortunately for us,
                      he has no idea where this facility is
                      located.

            Blade smiles, laughing tiredly.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      He does now.
                          (off their concerned looks)
                      He's been watching me since the tunnels.
                      Following me.  I led him right to you.

            Blade lifts up his hand, unfurling his previously closed
            fist.  There is a deep gash in his palms.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Just like a trail of bread crumbs.

            Damaskinos stares at Blade's hand, then looks to the floor.
            A line of blood droplets lead back to the doors through which
            he entered.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            A SERIES OF QUICK SHOTS
</b>
            Various hallways, the helipad outside Caliban industries,
            etc.  In rapid succession, we SEE more TRAILS OF BLOOD
            DROPLETS.  Then, just as quickly, we are back --

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            With Damaskinos and company.  Suddenly, the lights above them
            flicker then go out.  As emergency lights kick on --

            BANG!  BANG!BANG!BANG!  All eyes turn towards a steel
            security door which is shuddering -- bulging and bending
            inwards as Nomak throws himself against it.

            Damaskinos looks to a bank of security monitors which are
            flickering back to life now.  We see Nomak's blurred
            silhouette from various angles, pummeling the door.  Then --

            RIPPPPPP!!!  A portion of the door is clawed open and we see
            a glimpse of Nomak's SNARLING FACE.

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                          (roaring)
<b>                      FATHER!
</b>
            Damaskinos' eyes widen in terror as he stumbles backwards,
            activating an ALARM.  He looks to the guards, SCREAMING.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      Stop him!

            Damaskinos runs for his life, rushing out the opposite door,
            quickly followed by Stevens as we --

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            Nyssa hears the ALARMS and moves into a corridor lit by red,
            strobing emergency lights.  VAMPIRE GUARDS are rushing past.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - SECURITY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            Reinhardt also hears the ALARMS.  He looks to the
            surveillance monitors where he SEES Nomak.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Shit!

            Behind him, we see Whistler taking advantage of the
            distraction.  He folds his legs up under him, working his
            cuffed hands over his feet.  When Reinhardt spins back away
            from the security monitors --

            Whistler is GONE.  A steel grating in the floor lies half
            open.  The obvious means of exit.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            As Nomak continues tearing down the autopsy door, BULLETS
            hammer into his back.  He turns, sees a DOZEN GUARDS FIRING
            at him, their gunfire chewing the shit out of the concrete
            walls around him.  Nomak staggers, but doesn't go down as
            CLEAR BLOOD sprays from the body hits.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - MAINTENANCE CONDUIT - NIGHT
</b>
            Whistler shuffles forward through the narrow conduit on his
            elbows.  We hear footsteps.  Through the metal gratings
            above, we glimpse TWO FIGURES rushing past --

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - ANOTHER CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            Damaskinos and Stevens round a corner, spilling into several
            GUARDS.  He shoves his fellow vampires aside.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      Get out of the way.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            CLOSE ON a grate moving up from the floor.  Whistler emerges,
            rushing to Blade's side.  As he starts frantically releasing
            Blade from his bonds, he looks to the ravaged door --

<b>            WHISTLER'S POV (THROUGH THE V-SHAPED GAP IN DOOR)
</b>
            Nomak savages the guards, flinging them into the air.  A
            guard's body hits the V-gap in the door and obscures our view
            as --

            Whistler redoubles his efforts, finally freeing Blade.  He
            helps him from the autopsy table.  Blade is sinking, starting
            to fade.  Whistler slaps his face, shaking him.

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b>                      Come on, Blade.  Talk to me!

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (weakly)
                      Blood...

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM HALLWAY - NIGHT
</b>
            Carnage.  A frazetta painting come to life.  Nomak atop dead
            guards, draining the last of his victims' blood.  He whips
            his face in our direction and ROARS, charging the door --

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
            WHAM!  The door gives way and Nomak enters.  To the right, he
            SEES Whistler and Blade exiting.  To the left, he SEES the
            security monitors.  Damaskinos and Stevens can be glimpsed in
            one of these monitors.

            Nomak moves to the left.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - THIRD CORRIDOR - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade clutches his bleeding side, staggering down the
            corridor towards a door marked "Eugenics" with Whistler's
            help.  By all rights, Blade should be dead.  But he continues
            on, moving towards the door with determination.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - 4-WAY INTERSECTION - NIGHT
</b>
            CLOSE ON a hand twisting a safety lever on the floor.  PULL
            BACK to reveal Stevens manually activating a series of
            hydraulic lock-down latches.

            CHINK!CHINK!CHINK!  The doors of the Eastern, Northern, and
            Western corridors are sealing, lock-down latches clamping
            down for extra security.  Even as the Western door seals, we
            glimpse Nomak rushing towards it with inhuman speed.

<b>            ON STEVENS
</b>
            panicked, turning towards the open elevator cab where --

<b>            DAMASKINOS
</b>
            is waiting.  But even as Stevens starts towards the elevator,
            Damaskinos dispassionately presses the "CLOSE DOOR" button.

<b>                                STEVENS
</b>                      What are you doing?!!

            Stevens rushes towards the closing elevator doors, but it's
            too late.  He pounds his fist against them.  Behind him, we
            hear a terrible RENDING OF METAL as the Western door gives.
            Stevens looks in that direction --

            In an eyeblink, Nomak is upon him, SLAMMING his hand over
            Stevens' face, crushing it.

<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - ELEVATOR CAB - NIGHT
</b>
            As Damaskinos slides a security card through a reader and
            punches in a code, a thin SPRAY OF BLOOD jets across his pale
            forearm.  He looks to the elevator doors.  The spray of blood
            is coming through the vertical door seal.  The metal doors
            SHUDDER violently and then the cab begins to ascend.
            Damaskinos retreats to the far corner of the elevator,
            breathing a sigh of relief.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - EUGENICS CHAMBER - NIGHT
</b>
            WHOOSH!  A pneumatic door slides open.  Blade and Whistler
            enter.  They are on the second level now, up amongst the
            catwalks.  Below them is the churning cask of purified blood.
            They have almost reached the end of the catwalk when --

<b>            REINHARDT AND HIS MEN
</b>
            converge on the lab from two directions at once.  Some of the
            vampires spill through the door on the second level with
            Reinhardt, while others enter on the ground floor.

<b>                                REINHARDT
</b>                      Stop him!!!

            As Reinhardt takes aim at Blade with the shotgun, the other
            vampires FIRE.  Whistler is HIT in the leg.  He goes down,
            CRYING OUT, then grips Blade's arm, shoving him onward --

<b>                                WHISTLER
</b><b>                      GO!!!
</b>
<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            gripping the guard rail for support, dragging himself along.
            Reinhardt fires.  A SHOTGUN BLAST hits Blade, grazing him but
            otherwise missing him.  As Reinhardt curses and prepares to
            fire again --

            Blade makes it to the end of the catwalk, pitching himself
            out into open space.  Time slows to a crawl as Blade tumbles
            downward, plummeting into --

<b>            THE BLOOD CASK BELOW
</b>
            Blade sinks from view, disappearing beneath the churning
            slurry of crimson.  A beat passes as Reinhardt and his men
            draw closer, apprehensive.  Then, an explosion of BLOOD
            gushes over Reinhardt and the others.  They fall backwards,
            blinded, slipping --

<b>            BLADE
</b>
            surfaces from the cask in morbidly glorious slow-motion.
            Think of Sheen in the end-sequence of Apocalypse Now, only
            instead of a river of mud, Blade is covered head-to-toe in
            crimson.  Majestic and glistening.  A primordial god.  He
            rears back his head, letting loose a triumphal ROAR.

            Reinhardt's men hesitate.  One look at Blade's eyes and we
            can see he's tapped into a well-spring of fury even he never
            knew he had.  The man is super-charged and ready for war.

            Blade tears into the vampires, unleashing a blizzard of
            martial arts moves.  He powers a right hook into the first
            vampire's face, then pivots, launching a devastating spinning
            back-fist into the face of a second.  At the same time, he
            rips the second guard's security belt from his waist,
            twirling it around nanchadku-style to blind a third guard and
            capture the wrist of a fourth.

            Some vampires FIRE their guns, but Blade is a whirlwind,
            shifting and dodging.  BULLETS go wild, hitting circuitry,
            EXPLODING APART cannisters of combustible chemicals.  In
            seconds, FLAMES are licking across the laboratory floor.

            Blade drops, causing a pair of vampires to FIRE their guns at
            one another.

            Then Blade knocks two more vampires onto their asses with a
            foot sweep.  Then he's up again.  Slamming the bridge of a
            fifth vampire's nose into his brain with a palm heel strike.

            A snap kick, an overhand elbow strike, a knee stamp that
            shatter's the vampire's knee cap.  An upward block, a jab, a
            cross, a shin kick aimed at a vamp's quadriceps.

            Overhand punches, rising punches, parallel punches, spinning
            rear elbows, deep kicks, on and on and on and on in an orgy
            of super-hero violence until --

            WHAM!  Blade cuts the last of the vampire soldiers down,
            turning from the creature's disintegrating body to face --

<b>            REINHARDT
</b>
            The vampire mercenary clutches Blade's sword in his hand, but
            the weapon provides him with little sense of security given
            that he's just seen a dozen of his men slaughtered.  The
            automatic sprinkler system is on now, spraying water down
            upon Blade and Reinhardt alike.  Blade advances.

            Reinhardt's been cornered.  There's nowhere else for him to
            run.  Refusing to be cowed, Reinhardt SCREAMS and brings the
            sword down at Blade's head when WHOOSH --

            But Blade swings his hands upward, slapping them on either
            side of the blade, trapping the sword on its downward arc.

            Reinhardt strains, trying to tear the sword away from Blade's
            grip.  The vampire's eyes widen in fear.  And during that
            split-second in which the two men are frozen, connected by
            the weapon which vibrates between them, Blade says:

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      Tell me something, chief.  Can you
                      blush?

            TWHISH!  The sword twists free from Reinhardt's grasp,
            spinning upward into the air.  Reinhardt stumbles backwards
            against the blood cask railing as --

            Blade catches the sword on its way down, swinging it around
            in one fluid motion, slicing Reinhardt's torso in half, along
            with a diagonal axis!  Reinhardt sinks to his knees as the
            TWO HALVES split apart, turning to ash before they hit floor.

            Beat.  Blade stands beneath the spray of the overhead
            sprinklers, rinsing the blood from his body.  He turns
            towards the exit, sword in hand.

<b>                                                                 CUT TO:
</b>
<b>            INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - LOBBY - NIGHT
</b>
            A set of elevator doors open, disgorging Damaskinos.  Beyond
            the lobby windows we can SEE a waiting helicopter, VAMPIRE
            SOLDIERS readying it for take-off.  Damaskinos rushes across
            the lobby and is almost at the exit when --

            CHUNK!CHUNK!CHUNK! A series of steel shutters slam down over
            the doors and windows.  Damaskinos tries to tug one of the
            shutters upwards, then moves to a keypad nearby.  He starts
            hurriedly tapping in a numeric sequence when we hear:

<b>                                NYSSA (O.S.)
</b>                      I overrode the security codes.

            Damaskinos spins around.  Nyssa stands behind him.  She's got
            Whistler's rail-gun in her hands.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      We're locked in.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                      Are you insane?  He'll kill us both!

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Maybe it's better that way.

            AS if in response, a GRINDING SHUDDER comes from the elevator
            doors.  Damaskinos spins in wide-eyed horror, then --

<b>                                BLADE (O.S.)
</b>                      What's it going to be, Damaskinos?
                      Thiavolos.  The devil you know --

<b>            BLADE
</b>
            enters the lobby from a mezzanine above, sword in hand.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      -- or the devil you don't?

            Damaskinos turns back to his daughter, making a last appeal.

<b>                                DAMASKINOS
</b>                          (vampire dialect; subtitled)
                      For God's sake, Nyssa!  Let us out of
                      here!

            WHAM!WHAM!WHAM!  Nomak pounds away.  The elevator doors are
            starting to buckle, then they tear apart completely --

<b>            NOMAK
</b>
            bursts into the lobby, ROARING.  If anything, he is even more
            animalistic now, his features having become grossly
            distorted.

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                          (in vampire dialect)
                      Why are you frightened, father?  The
                      prodigal son has returned.

            Damaskinos scurries backwards, but there's nowhere left to
            run.  Nomak descends on him, lifting the vampire into a rib
            crushing embrace, chomping his elongated canines into
            Damaskinos' throat.

            Damaskinos SQUEALS like a child as his life-blood is sucked
            out of him.  His body begins to cave inward, shrinking and
            twisting until there's nothing left but shriveled husk.

            Nyssa hefts the rail-gun and FIRES at Nomak's back.  Nomak
            HOWLS, releasing Damaskinos' body, then turns, focusing his
            blood-drunk gaze on Nomak.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (alarmed)
                      Get out of here!

            But Nyssa stands her ground, rachetting back the slide on the
            rail-gun, readying to unleash another barrage of needles.
            Nomak CHARGES, moving at unbelievable speed.  She FIRES
            AGAIN, aiming at Nomak's chest --

            but then Nomak is upon her.  He slaps the rail-gun from her
            hands, SMASHING IT TO PIECES.
            Then he wraps his hand around her throat, pulling her
            forward, sinking his teeth into her neck.  Nyssa SCREAMS.

<b>                                BLADE (CONT'D)
</b>                      Nyssa!!!

<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            as he leaps from the mezzanine level, sword extended, like
            Beowulf diving to slay Grendel.  He PLUNGES the sword deep
            into Nomak's upper torso.  Then DRIVES it in even further --

            Nomak releases Nyssa and back-hands Blade across the face,
            sending him sailing through the air.  He lands, skids across
            the floor --

<b>            ON NOMAK
</b>
            stumbling backwards into the wall.  The sword has sunk so
            deep that the tip is actually protruding out his back,
            SCRAPING a gash across the wall as Nomak slides towards the
            floor.

            Nomak GRUNTS, then reaches for the pomeel with his ruined
            hand.  He grips the pommel and SNAPS the sword-blade in half.
            Then he SLAMS against the wall, forcing the half of the
            broken blade that's still embedded in him out back through
            the front of his chest.  As Nomak rises to his feet --

            Blade is on him again, snap-kicking the Reaper in the chest.
            Nomak retaliates.  Blade somersaults out of the way, then
            springs back again, KICKING Nomak in the face, BREAKING
            Nomak's NECK.  Nomak's head lolls unnaturally sideways for a
            heartbeat and then Nomak swings his head around, somehow
            righting his neck vertebrae with a snap of his head.

            They trade blows, a brutal death-match that seems to defy
            gravity.  Blade moves in for a round-house punch, but Nomak
            catches his fist, holding it for a split-second, then bending
            Blade's hand at an unnatural angle, SNAPPING his wrist bones.
            The pain is enormous.

            Nomak starts beating the living shit out of Blade, pummeling
            him with his fists, gripped by an uncontrollable rage.  He
            SMASHES Blade against a marble column, cracking it.  Then he
            flings Blade against one of the brushed steel walls - so hard
            that Blade's body actually leaves an indentation.

            Before Blade can recover, Nomak is in front of him, launching
            another kick.  Blade rolls his head out of the way, barely
            avoiding Nomak's boot heel which dents the wall.  Nomak kicks
            a second time.  Blade avoids Nomak, but third time's the
            charm and Nomak lands one squarely in Blade's gut.
            Blade falls beneath a flurry of blows, unable to defend
            himself any longer.  Blood stains his eyes, obscuring his
            vision.  He strikes out blindly, but Nomak has forced him to
            the ground, pinning him there.  As Blade struggles to free
            himself --

<b>            NOMAK
</b>
            lowers his head towards Blade's face.  The scar/seam in
            Nomak's chin splits open and Nomak's lower jaw flares apart,
            distending and widening to reveal the awful, glistening hell
            maw -- the hollow inner fangs and striated cartilage which
            are closing about Blade's face.  Blade twists his head
            violently to the right, then glimpses the broken tip of his
            sword resting a few feet away.  He reaches for it in
            desperation, plunging it up into Nomak's chest.  Nomak HOWLS.
            Because the hilt has been broken off, Blade is forced to grip
            the cutting edge of the weapon with his bare hands.  It
            slices into his fingers --

            but Blade just grips the broken sword tighter, ignoring the
            pain, driving it deeper and deeper -- until, suddenly, it
            penetrates the cartilaginous shell around Nomak's heart and --

<b>                                NOMAK
</b>                          (in vampire dialect)
                      Blood brother.

            Nomak smiles, covering Blade's hands with his own.  He looks
            blade in the eye, then drives the broken sword home.

            Nomak's body stiffens, his eyes grow unseeing, an oddly
            serene look spreading across his tortured face.  A patch of
            BLACKNESS begins radiating outward from his chest, moving
            over his body, carbonizing him from within.  As his blackened
            flesh begins to crack, BLUE FLAMES flicker out from the
            fissures.  In seconds, Nomak is gone.

            Beat.  Blade stands, exhausted.  Then he looks to where Nyssa
            rests.  He moves to her side, kneeling beside her.  She
            smiles up at him, bravely, but frightened all the same.
            Blade inspects the wound on her neck.  It's clearly fatal.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      How does it look?

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                          (with genuine sadness)
                      Not good.

            Nyssa nods.  Blade has only confirmed her existing fears.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      It won't be long now.  I can already
                      feel it burning inside me --

            She grips Blade's arm, her eyes welling with tears.

<b>                                NYSSA (CONT'D)
</b>                      I don't want to become what Nomak was --
                          (beat; straining)
                      I can't.  I want to die while I'm still
                      vampire.

            Blade sighs.  The burden is all to familiar to him.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What do you want me to do?

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      I want to see the sun rise.

<b>            ON BLADE
</b>
            his face a mask of sad resignation.  He lifts Nyssa into his
            arms.  She closes her eyes, resting her head on his chest.

<b>            EXT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - JUST BEFORE DAWN
</b>
            The shutters over the doors and windows slowly rise.  Blade
            shoulders open the front door, moving across the lawn towards
            a bluff overlooking the ocean.  A moment later, Whistler
            emerges into the light, watching as Blade sets Nysa down on
            the grass.  Her eyes flutter open and she looks into --

<b>            THE HORIZON
</b>
            where the faintest glimmer of pre-dawn light brightens the
            cloud-swept sky.  It's peaceful.  We can hear the SURF
            crashing on the shore below.

            Together they wait.

            A GLIMMER OF LIGHT emerges over the earth's curvature,
            spreading its dazzling radiance out across the skyline.
            Nyssa's eyes widen in expectation, her breath catching.  She
            looks up at Blade, stroking his face, smiling.

<b>                                NYSSA
</b>                      Each day is a little life.  Remember?

            Blade nods, he's strong for her.  Despite his best efforts, a
            tear slides down his cheek.  They kiss then as the sun rises
            in full glory, flooding the world with its brilliance.

            Blade holds Nyssa tightly to his chest, refusing to
            relinquish his grip as her body catches fire.  The end is
            blessedly quick -- not a slow-burn of blazing agony, but a
            nearly seamless transition from life --

            To ash...  Nyssa collapses apart in Blade's arms, billowing
            out around him in a cloud of glowing embers.  One moment
            she's there, the next she's gone.  Blade remains where he is,
            kneeling on the bluff, the wind carrying the last traces of
            Nyssa aloft into the sky.  He shuts his eyes.  Turns his face
            to the warmth of the sun, surrendering himself to acceptance.

<b>            WE RISE UP
</b>
            isolating Blade alone on the windswept bluff.  After a
            moment, Whistler moves to Blade's side.  He rests a hand on
            Blade's shoulder, but doesn't say a word.  We keep moving up
            and up until the two of them are just a pair of tiny figures
            on the rolling coastline.  Then we --

<b>                                                            DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>            A SERIES OF CLOSEUPS
</b>
            Images of a weapon being forged, all filtered through
            shimmering convection waves of intense heat.  We SEE a HAMMER
            CLANGING DOWN.  The FIRES of a ROARING furnace.  SPARKS
            showering up from titanium slowly being given shape.  Molten
            silver.  Acid etching.  And then we PULL BACK to reveal --

<b>            INT. BLADE'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT
</b>
            Blade works before a forge by moonlight, his body dripping
            with sweat.  He slips his hand in a protective glove and
            grips the red-hot weapon, dousing it in a quench bucket.  As
            a cloud of steam envelops Blade, he lifts it up for view.

<b>            A NEW SWORD
</b>
            perfect.  Lethal.  Wrought from titanium, plated in sliver.
            As Blade inspects the sword, we hear his earlier words again:

<b>                                BLADE (V.O.)
</b>                      I am a hunter.  A weapon.  It's what I
                      do.  It's in my blood...

            Satisfied with his work, Blade smiles --

<b>            EXT. FUCKINGHAM PALACE - NIGHT
</b>
            A shit-hole porno emporium offering the latest in bagged-for
            your-pleasure Euro-raunch.

<b>            INT. FUCKINGHAM PALACE - NIGHT
</b>
            Rush, the vampire brother wanna-be from the opening of the
            film, is up at the register, exchanging a twenty for a
            handful of tokens.  He's humming along to that old E-Rotic
            song "Voulez-vous couchez avec moi".

<b>                                RUSH
</b>                      -- yelling for your tender touch, you
                      can never get enough --

            We FOLLOW HIM down a hall lined with video booths, serenaded
            all the while by the cheesy SYNTH SOUNDTRACKS and faked
            ORGASMOGROANS coming from beyond the doors.

<b>                                RUSH (CONT'D)
</b>                      -- cover me with your love --

            Rush stops at "Buddy Booth No. 3 - HOT ONE-ON-ONE ACTION."

<b>            INT. BUDDY BOOTH - NIGHT
</b>
            Rush steps inside.  There's a chair set in front of a
            Plexiglas window, an intercom with a phone receiver, box of
            Kleenex, and a slot for the tokens.

            Rush gets himself situated, picks up the receiver, then
            eagerly pops some tokens in the slot.

<b>                                RUSH
</b>                      Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir!
                      Voulez-vous coucher AVEC MOI!!!

            With a HUM, the screen in front of the window rises, offering
            us a view of the booth on the other side of the Plexiglas.
            Only instead of a skanked out booth girl, Rush finds himself
            staring in open-mouthed astonishment at --

<b>            BLADE
</b>
            Who flashes an evil smile at us.

<b>                                BLADE
</b>                      What?  You think I forgot about you?

            In a near blur, Blade draws his new sword from his back
            scabbard and stabs it RIGHT INTO CAMERA, SMASHING apart the
            Plexiglas window as we --

<b>                                                          FADE TO BLACK.
</b>
<b></PRE>
</b>
<b>
</b><b></b></pre><br>
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	<td><h1>Blade II</h1><br><br>
	    <b>Writers</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=David S. Goyer" title="Scripts by David S. Goyer">David S. Goyer</a><br>
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What is infecting the vampire community?
What is infecting the vampire community ?
The Reaper Virus
The Reaper Virus
Reaper virus
Reaper virus