Download HBO True Detective Ep 2 PDF

TitleHBO True Detective Ep 2
TagsTavern Nature
File Size126.1 KB
Total Pages53
Document Text Contents
Page 1

True Detective

Chapter Two: "Seeing Things"

by

NIC PIZZOLATTO

RWSG Literary Agency
1107 1/2 Glendon Ave
Los Angeles, California 90024
(310)208-0360

Page 2

TRUE DETECTIVE
Chapter Two: ‘Seeing Things’

TITLE CREDITS.

BLACK.

COHLE (V.O.)
Back then, not sleeping. I’d lay in
the dark. I’d think about women. My
wife. My daughter.

FADE IN:

INT. COHLE FAMILY APARTMENT, BEDROOM - DAY

A YOUNG COUPLE on a bed, with a year-old BABY between them.
Light diffuses through thin curtains over a large window as
the young parents delight in the child, playing with her.
Rustin Cohle, 26, with his WIFE and daughter--

COHLE (V.O.)
Who knows why we choose the ones we
do? Some just have your name on
them. Like a bullet. Or a nail in
the road.

Off the happiness of the parents and their baby--

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

The established interview room- old table, bulletin board,
institutional walls. RUSTIN COHLE, 51, sits before us, three
BEERS into his six pack, cigarettes beside a mug. The flame-
and-dice TATTOO visible on his forearm, he speaks into the
camera, drinks, smokes--

COHLE
...Sorry. I drift when I have a
few. S’why I like to drink alone.

He finishes the can--

COHLE (CONT’D)
Still won’t tell me about the new
one..? Alright. None of my
business, you guys don’t want to
fill me in.

He waits a beat, watching his questioner, pops open a new
beer--

Page 26

A BED takes up most of the space, festooned with STUFFED
TOYS, plush animals for which the WOMAN on the bed is much
too old--

LUCY (20s, the prostitute Cohle met in ep. 1), sits cross-
legged on the bed, a few baggies of PILLS in front of her,
prescription bottles without labels. Rust Cohle, 31, stands
at her window, exhausted, looking out at a streetlight in an
alley--

LUCY
You wanted blues?

COHLE
Qualludes. The dopey stuff.

He turns to watch her rifle through the pills--

COHLE (CONT’D)
What’s it run?

LUCY
Um... I’m thinking. I seen the blue
go for three a pill.

COHLE
We’ll say two-hundred for all of
them.

Lucy blinks back disbelief: the cop’s not going to rip her
off. Cohle hands her the money, which she takes wide-eyed,
cautiously--

Cohle examines the bottle of about sixty pills while Lucy
watches, relaxing a little for the first time--

LUCY
Thought you might just take them.
Or that you wanted something
else... Some kind of something
else.

She reclines on her bed, legs stretching under a denim skirt,
bruises on her knees. An invitation--

COHLE
No.

LUCY
...Then I thought, you’re a good-
lookin man. You wouldn’t need a
shakedown to get some.

25.

Page 27

Lucy continues to watch Cohle as puts the cap back on the
pills, stuffs them in his blazer pocket. During their
interaction, Cohle remains civil but cold, unresponsive to
her gestures. The light from the window is dowdy and orange,
dramatizing his edge--

LUCY (CONT’D)
...What’s your deal?

SFX: SOUND of a BOTTLE BREAKING outside the window--

Cohle moves to the window, sees down below a PERSON run into
SHADOWS across the street, disappearing--

COHLE
I don’t have a deal.

LUCY
I mean, what you do. You’re not
like cops I know. Even the bad
ones.

COHLE
Who’re the bad ones?

LUCY
...Nevermind... I thought you was
gonna bust me last week.

COHLE
Not interested.

LUCY
Yeah. I know. You’re kind of
strange... Like you might be
dangerous.

COHLE
Of course I’m dangerous. I’m
police. I can do terrible things to
people with impunity.

She goes quiet, and Cohle scans the stuffed toys on her bed,
their paws and glass eyes an uncomfortable decoration--

COHLE (CONT’D)
...You remember that girl I first
asked you about? The blonde?

She nods--

LUCY
I still ain’t heard nothing.

26.

Page 52

I/EXT. CID CAR / BURNED CHURCH - DAY

COHLE’S POV FX: out the window, he sees the FLOCK OF
BLACKBIRDS lift into the sky in a tight cluster, and in a
pointillistic abstraction, they seem to suddenly form a
WOMAN’S PORTRAIT--

--Then immediately the birds scatter into a looser grouping,
the picture gone. The flock keeps swaying over the field like
a phantom thumbprint--

HART
(re building)

No numbers on the place. Looks like
the fire was a long time ago...

Cohle looks away from the window, to Hart, then the building.
The men open their doors--

EXT. / INT. BURNED CHURCH - DAY

SLOWLY PAN into the demolished CHURCH, following Cohle and
Hart’s POV as they walk through the TALL GRASS and through
the open church entrance --

The church floor is covered in RUBBLE-- broken PEWS,
shattered GLASS crunching underfoot, the walls vandalized,
ALTAR crushed, strewn with debris, feces--

ONE WINDOW is still intact, a high one above the back wall.
It’s round, STAINED GLASS depicting the Madonna’s Ascension.
The LIGHT from the window is kaleidoscopic with stained
color. It falls on Cohle and Hart as their feet crunch over
the detritus--

HART
Okay. What? Place been trashed.
This is old damage. And no kind of
lead, son.

Cohle stands still and looks over the walls, their graffiti,
his eyes sharp and intense--

COHLE (V.O.)
Back then, the visions... Sometimes
I was convinced I’d lost it...

Cohle’s eyes fall on a particular section of the wall. He
starts approaching it--

COHLE (CONT’D)
Marty...

51.

Page 53

Hart crosses the trashed space to Cohle, who’s studying the
wall. Hart likewise turns his attention to the wall--

POV-- on the WALL is a large, crude PAINTING which shows the
SILHOUETTE of an unclothed FEMALE ANGEL, kneeling as if in
prayer, a BEAM of painted light shining down on her figure.
Though her hands are in prayer, her HEAD is laid down , as if
resting--

It is unmistakably the exact pose in which Dora Lange’s body
was left to be found in the woods--

COHLE (V.O.) (CONT’D)
...And other times I thought I was
seeing straight into the true heart
of things.

Cohle and Hart look at one another, confused as to what this
image might mean. Then back to the wall--

BEGIN RISING OVER the detectives, through the open roof,
framing the painting on the wall. Off the two men staring at
this spectral representation of Dora Lange’s body--

FADE TO BLACK.

END CHAPTER TWO.

52.

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