[INT. FRED'S PENTHOUSE – NIGHT]
Harriet stares down at the black file Fred threw in front of her.
The room feels like it's spinning.
FRED (low, commanding)
"Open it."
Hands trembling, Harriet flips the file open.
The first photo hits her like a punch.
Her parents — young, alive, standing proudly.
Her father wears a sharp black suit, the same kind of tattoo inked on his hand as Fred's — and Liam's tattoo on his neck.
They are shaking hands with someone... while her mother cradles a baby Harriet in her arms.
Harriet's breath catches.
She drags her eyes to the tattoo — the mark of an organization she never knew existed.
She flips the page — and freezes.
Another photo.
Her mother, half-hugging an unfamiliar man — smiling.
HARRIET (whispers, breaking)
"Who is this man? Why are they... hugging?"
Fred smirks, his voice like a blade.
FRED (mocking)
"Keep looking."
Harriet, stomach sick, flips again.
This time — her mother and that man are kissing.
HARRIET (staggered, gasping)
"No... no, this is a lie. This isn't true. My mother... my mother isn't... she's not—"
(she chokes)
"She's not a slut!"
She whirls around, furious, slamming the file against Fred's chest.
HARRIET (screaming)
"You! You're lying! This is all a lie!"
Fred doesn't even flinch.
He leans in slowly, until their faces are inches apart.
FRED (low, merciless)
"Do you really think your mother loved only your father?"
Harriet shakes her head violently.
Fred pulls back, standing tall, looking out the glass window into the stormy city skyline.
FRED (quiet, cruel)
"She loved you more than anything. That doesn't mean she loved your father the same way."
Harriet falls to her knees, tears pouring freely.
HARRIET (broken)
"Stop... don't tell me anymore..."
Fred only smiles — a cold, shattered thing — and pours himself another whiskey, one hand lazily in his pocket.
FRED (slowly, deliberately)
"Your father was famous... a martial artist. A fencer. A warrior with swords.
He joined our organization — under PK-3. I was PK-5. Every trusted man had to take the mark."
(he lifts his wrist, flashing his own tattoo)
FRED (bitter)
"Your father was loyal. Loved your mother fiercely. And she loved him too... at first."
Harriet stares at him, mouth trembling.
HARRIET (small, broken)
"If they loved each other... why... why would she...?"
Fred chuckles bitterly, his voice slicing through the air.
FRED
"Because even love isn't enough sometimes."
(beat)
FRED (grim)
"They ran away together. Eloped. Lived a good life for one year.
He built her a mansion, a dream. She got pregnant with you."
Harriet's fingers clench on the carpet.
HARRIET (desperate)
"Then why? Why cheat? Why betray him?"
Fred's face darkens.
FRED (coldly)
"Because evil doesn't always knock. Sometimes, it walks right through your front door."
He steps closer.
FRED (grim)
"Your father left one day... just a grocery run.
Vance — that man — he came to your house, looking for him.
He wasn't part of our organization.
No, by then, the group had split — into two factions. And Vance... he wanted everything your father had. Including your mother."
Harriet clutches her head, shaking it furiously.
HARRIET (sobbing)
"No... please... don't say it..."
Fred kneels before her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze.
FRED (merciless)
"You look just like her."
Harriet recoils as if struck.
Fred rises, draining his whiskey glass in one brutal gulp.
FRED (mocking)
"Your mother wasn't weak. She had standards.
She made her choices."
He grabs another bottle, pouring himself a second drink.
FRED (casual, cruel)
"That's enough bedtime story for tonight.
Go to sleep."
Harriet, raw and broken, stumbles toward the nearby staircase, pointing toward a door.
HARRIET (hoarse)
"Can I... can I use that room?"
Fred nods, smiling faintly — but there's no warmth in it.
She rushes into the room and slams the door shut.
Fred's smile fades.
He turns back to the massive window, staring at the raging storm outside.
Glass in hand, eyes hollow.
A flashback burns behind his eyes—
---
[FLASHBACK – YEARS AGO]
Young Fred, maybe eight years old, hiding on the stairs.
Peeking down the hallway.
Seeing his father — and Harriet's mother — pressed against the wall, kissing passionately grabbing hardly..
Fred's young face twists — horror, betrayal — his knuckles white from gripping the stair rail.
---
[PRESENT – FRED'S PENTHOUSE]
Fred drinks deep, the liquor burning his throat.
His reflection stares back at him from the glass — cold, monstrous.
His eyes glow with something dangerous.
Something broken beyond repair.
---
[EXT. ABANDONED BUILDING – NIGHT]
The rain pounds the broken rooftop where Selene stands, hidden in the shadows.
Below, Vance paces furiously, boots splashing in puddles.
VANCE (snarling)
"Fred got her first. Dammit."
Selene(last name unknown )watches him lazily, twirling a small silver knife between her fingers.
SELENE (mocking)
"Aw, poor Vance. Someone stole your little puppet?"
Vance glares up at her but doesn't reply. His fists clench.
SELENE (circling him)
"You underestimated him. Again."
(pause, smiling coldly)
"But don't worry. Little Harriet won't stay safe forever."
Vance exhales sharply, trying to control his rage.
VANCE (gritted teeth)
"She's the key. I don't need her dead. I need her scared. Alone. Desperate."
Selene smiles wider.
SELENE (purring)
"You want her broken... not gone."
VANCE (darkly)
"Exactly."
Selene leans casually against a rusted pipe.
SELENE (teasing)
"Maybe I should visit her. Make a new... friend."
Vance's jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
SELENE (serious now)
"Fred will guard her. Day and night. You want Harriet... you'll have to tear him down first."
Vance smiles grimly.
VANCE (low)
"I know where to hit him. Not his body. His heart."
Selene raises an eyebrow.
SELENE
"You think Fred even has one left?"
Vance just smirks, eyes glinting with malice.
In the distance, thunder cracks — a warning of the storm yet to come.
---
[INT. FRED'S PENTHOUSE – SAME NIGHT]
Fred pours another glass of whiskey, staring out into the rain-smeared city.
Inside the guest room, Harriet curls up on the bed, her body trembling under the covers — haunted by the photos, Fred's cruel revelations, the kiss still burning on her lips.
Tears slip down silently.
Outside her door, Fred leans against the wall, glass in hand, head bowed.
For once, the monster and the girl are both prisoners of their own ghosts.
But neither of them know — Selene is already hunting.
Already smiling.
Already weaving a trap that could destroy them both.
---
[TO BE CONTINUED…]
***