A dark, moist cell with dim lighting. The man is chained by the wrists to the ceiling and is naked, with blood streaks all over his body and snot running down his face.
In front of him stands an interrogator wearing doctor’s scrubs.
SCRUBS: Do you know, your loved ones… they will soon all be dead. How does that make you feel?
The man sobs.
MAN: I don’t know what is happening!! Who are you people?! I don’t remember who I am… Please, for the love of —
The man wearing scrubs jams a cattle prod into his torso, and he screams in agony.
MAN: PLEASE!!! Please stop!! Please I don’t know what you want.
SCRUBS: [pauses a beat] We know that you were with the girl. We know that you lied about who you are. We know all about you, Mr. Blue.
MAN: Mr. Blue? Is that my name? I don’t… I can’t remember anything!! Can’t even tell if this is really happening. Please, God, wake me from this nightmare and take me home… [He sobs and coughs out blood.]
SCRUBS: If you continue on this path, things are going to get a lot worse for you. Trust me.
The man opens his eyes and stares into the middle distance, whimpering.
FADE TO BLACK
We hear ocean waves lapping on a beach, and seagulls. A foghorn. The screen is still black, and the sounds fade out, replaced with the sound of a train’s wheels on steel rails. A whistle blows, then fades again to silence.
A news broadcast faintly describes the scene of panic and rioting as the power grid has failed across 5 states. The newscaster fades out, to silence.
We fade in to see the store front of Karen’s Scissors, a still shot with no one in frame, and the sound of Phil Collins’s In the Air Tonight.
FADE TO BLACK
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