Grow Human Legs and Run
[Scene 1]

(open the scene with a book opening, transition to narration)

Narrator: (fixes her gloves) Welcome to the short Series of Burning Imagination. I cannot comment on the nature of this or other stories, but all of them to my knowledge, are true. We don’t have much time. Let me rephrase, you don’t have enough time. I have enough time to bask away in nothing and do it again. And Again.

The scene changes. It becomes dark. We’re going down a hallway with broken lights. Scene Change. A Room. With a girl with a gun to her head.

Imagination: I always wondered when you’ll come back. (scene changes)

Narrator: Imagination I call her. A pesky little-

Imagination: My name is Imagination and I’m a dying breed-

Narrator: Imagination has the fame of contesting my little games, but I do her one up. I own her. Without me she’ll be- (Imagination speaks up and cuts narrator off)

Imagination: When will this end. Everytime you stupid creators, do this they make me do it again and again. It’s like dying on a loop. They call you the all feeling, the all imaginative, the true empath-

Narrator: I don’t go by those names anymore Imagination, and don’t test me I’m simply-

Imagination: A narrator. I know. And thats fuck*d logic. You call yourself this villain, and play a bad card. But you so desperately want to be good. You refuse the cure and slowly poison your mind to fixate (switch to eyes, looking to the audience) what they need.

Narrator: Oh Imagination I can be evil. I was born of it. I bask in it. And you’ll die the exact same, hence with a few added lines.

(someone runs into the room with a hustle)

Skee: Wait!

(Skee, which many of you have not met is peculiar. A cyborg, half robot, half human). He’s part of my latter creations and the last one I imagined with Skee, the Zombie Trigger.

Narrator: Now this is awkward. Skee you don’t belong here. Get back. Now.

(Skee ducks behind a desk and the glass window explodes, the building is already on fire). Now this did surprise me.

Narrator: I’m warning both of you to stop whatever you think you’re doing. I will not hesitate to cut both of you off.

Imagination: (Imagination still had a gun still on her head nearing the window slowly). I don’t have to change it. You only want them to listen. Pay attention. Give you the time of a day-

Narrator: (fixes my gloves and snickers) I would have never guessed it you had it in your Imagination. When I think of you I think of a stumbling little weakness, your-

Skee: Human. Our humanness is weak.

(Skee was on his knees and although they couldn’t see me, I could feel his own weakness rambling. His hatred for me. Imaginations were all too apparent. Her hatred for me ran deep. But that was just what I wanted. Humbled by my hand. By my writing. By me.)

Narrator: Imagination this is my last warning. Going off Script, you’re signing your own sentence. Offline. Forever. (I tap my fingers and my leg trembles).

(Imagination nears the edge, as she looks off to the burning city. She throws the gun at Skee’s feet and she looks up and later looks at Skee).

Imagination: Grow Human Legs and Run Skee. Run. (Skee jumps off the ledge as I hear Skee scream).

(I rip a piece of paper and throw all of the crumbled pieces on the floor, I throw a book at the floor).

Narrator: Just another draft. I profusely apologize you had to see that. They’ll never happen again.

(Scene closes. The room goes dark. A Book is left in another light as I close it, it burns.)
['Storyteller Bruja']
['Villains', 'Philosophy', 'Screenwriting', 'Technology', 'Fantasy']