SomethingStrangeStory.htm

RHYTHMS ON THE WIND

24"x 36"

OIL PAINTING

Moonrise. Dark storm waves churn towards the shore. There, at beaches end, where thick brush begins, a cloaked figure exits a shadowy crypt. Setting out with purpose, he makes his way along the blustery shoreline. Nearby, perched on a gravestone, a great raven lets out a loud screech. The man pays scant attention to its warning, for his mind is racing. Thoughts of folly. Thoughts of consequence. Thoughts of lost love.

He is headed for the large manor atop the rocky cliff at the beaches end. As he draws closer a familiar light in the tower floods his mind with memories. He remembers the manor and of its splendor. He remembers her.

He ambles over the overgrown pathway that leads to the manor itself. He notices a silhouette that beckons near her window. His thoughts continue to shift rapidly. There was a promise. There was a ring. Believing he hears her voice calling out to him, he hurries along summoned by desire.

TAKE IT ALL AWAY

COLORED PENCIL SKETCH

At the top of the tower, her room overlooks the ocean. A stone balcony circles its perimeter. There, backlit by the moon, her forlorn figure paces aimlessly. There is something clearly troubling her. She nervously toys with the amulet hanging from her neck. The shadow of a cloud passes, bringing with it a few scattered drops. Her head in her hands she kneels. She clasps her hands in prayer. She prays for forgiveness

She dreams of an angel awash in a sparkling light. The angel sent to deliver her. He stands knee deep as the ocean shimmers about him As he reaches out for her hand, she does the same. Just before their hands make contact, a flash of lightning reawakens her to the night. She walks to the balcony's edge and stares blankly at the ocean. A storm is coming. She returns to her room. She hears the thunder closing in.

ONE DAY

DIGITAL ANIMATION FRAME

Seated alone in a horse drawn coach, a well- dressed young man carries a small satchel. From this he withdraws an antique locket. He fiddles with it as the coach bobs and jostles along, then pops it open, gazing intently at its contents. After a short while he snaps it shut, then picks up an open envelope sitting next to him on the seat. He pulls out the invitation card, reads it one last time, and then tucks it back away.

He can clearly imagine her at the manor, dressing for the "occasion". Around the manor servants are tending to the evening's arriving guests. Each and every one is anxiously awaiting her appearance, their various costumes beautiful and terrifying

Downstairs, near the manor's entrance, the cloaked man stops suddenly. He is taken aback to see footmen and arriving guests. He ducks into the shadows to remain unnoticed. He sees a coach approaching. Inside it the young man is dreaming of what she may be like, of what the night has in store for him. He briefly pops open the locket to get one more look., then returns it to the satchel placing it next to the hammer

As his coach arrives at the entrance, he hands his invitation to the footman. Scurrying downstairs to greet him is a tall bald man with a large moustache. They shake hands and proceed upstairs. A greeting performed time after time by the bald man, and all too familiar to the cloaked man, lurking just out of view.

LET ME INTRODUCE YOU

COLORED PENCIL SKETCH

Taking the young visitor’s arm, the bald man quickly escorts our guest to his room. In route they pass the expansive rectangular ballroom, and it surrounding mezzanine. Two dozen guests mingle and chatter and prepare to dance as the musicians strike up their instruments. Arriving at his room, the young man places his satchel on the bed, where he finds a mask that has been made especially for him. He smiles wryly, and puts it on, then takes something out of the satchel. He turns and exits the room, rejoining his escort. Arriving downstairs, the bald man steps away from his companion only long enough to return and hand him a drink. One swallow later our young friend finds himself swept up in a whirlwind of revelry, where things are a blur.

Upstairs, she performs the final touches of her ritual. She adjusts the amulet, then her sleeves. She rises from the bed and prepares to make her entrance. Before leaving the room she stops and toys with a few mementos on the mantle and lights her finger over an apparently empty spot. Now prepared, she puts out the light and closes the door. One of the mantle’s trinkets, carelessly replaced, falls to the floor.

Downstairs the young man's head is reeling with thoughts both sinister and sensuous., the surrounding company dancing and swirling all about in masks and make-up . Suddenly, applause greets her entrance. Elegant and powerful, her costume and mask frame her well. She takes her seat and begins greeting the invited. Without interrupting his young friend’s trance, the bald man guides him to her. Her eyes meet with the prey, and he stops dead in his tracks. Hushed voices around them quietly sound their approval. With a superfluous introduction the bald man slinks away. The young man bows politely, then hands her the old locket. Recognition, and a smile are returned, as she offers him her other hand. Her victim willingly accepts it.

I'VE GOT YOU IN MY BLOOD

COLORED PENCIL SKETCH

Before he knows it, he is in a dark corridor with her, leaving the festivities behind. She unlocks a secret door and they take the hidden passageway within. As they ascend the dimly lit stairwell, her hypnotic movements plunge him deeper into her web. The passage ends at the secret entrance to her room. Once inside she turns to him. She loosens his clothing. She eases him back on the bed. He is unsure but in anticipation of what she may be up to as she rises and moves about the room. He can't see as she places his locket, now opened, on the mantle, a fresh addition to the line of her collection. She returns, toying with her amulet. As the seduction escalates, there is an unseen shadow on the balcony.

THIS MOMENT

COLORED PENCIL SKETCH

He watches through the window as his cloak tosses in the breeze. With bated breath, he nods painfully then shakes his head with a sigh. He walks away and looks out over the ocean. The storm is about to break. As he paces the perimeter, he notes the passing of guests on the grounds below. A cool gust of wind accompanies the hauntingly familiar sounds now emanating from the room.

He sighs once more as he takes off his ring and grasps it tightly. As he leaves the balcony his anger and his pace increase with every step. He sails down the stairwell, bursting through a side entrance. His emotions shift wildly as the storm follows suit. More stairs, halls, and passageways. More memories. He was helpless when she left. He is helpless still. He thrashes at the candelabra in the hallway that leads to the ballroom. The resulting crash followed by alarmed voices close by.

Jumping back into the shadows, he narrowly avoids being seen. The moment passes and he proceeds wearily back up a long corridor and disappears from view.

SHADOWS WAIT

OIL PAINTING

24"x 48"

Upstairs in her bedroom, our young friend is quietly buttoning his shirt. At first there appears to be no sign of her, though the French doors that lead to the balcony are slightly ajar. He slowly rises, listening out for voices, footsteps. The last of the dancing moonlight disappears as the storm takes hold. He starts to see things moving about; inside and outside the room. The lightning casts wild flickering shadows about. It plays tricks with his mind. He's sure he hears someone whispering to him. The doors blow open wide as the rain begins. A bolt strikes frighteningly close by. A glint of something on the floor catches his eye. A woman’s ring. Without picking it up, he walks to the French doors , peering ouside. His eyes wander; searching, squinting to see if there is anyone out there. Startled, he thinks he hears a sound from inside the room. Then, something altogether different catches his eye. The door to the hidden passageway now stands open. Shaken, he avoids going near, and quickly makes his way out of the room, down the hall, and back to his guest room. He grabs his satchel , his hands still quivering. He opens it, sees the hard steel of the hammer, and closes it back up.

FIND OUR LOVE

FREEHAND DIGITAL DRAWING

From behind, the balcony door is closed. Closed by the man in the cloak. He picks up a lamp and lights it. In doing so he steps upon something on the floor. The woman’s ring that bears the same design as his. He takes it into his hand. He scans the row of items and sees the new addition. The locket. He pops it open, shakes his head, then snaps it shut, and puts it in his pocket.

From the bureau he knows so well, he takes a sheet of her stationery, and a quill. With these he writes a short note. He places both rings on top with his trembling hand. His head swims with thoughts of her. Of the last time they saw each other. He begged her not to leave, she did not care. It seemed so long ago.

She rushes into the room out of the rain, her drenched nightgown clinging to her body. Flushed from an exhilarating dance in the storm, and fully expecting to see her new pet, she is shocked to see her former lover. He tries to confront her; tries desperately to be angry, but the sight of her, wild and beautiful leaves him breathless. As always, as so many times before, he winds up crumbling at her feet. He looks up at her, waiting for something, anything. She smile a pitiful smile and pets his drooping head. At this, with one last burst of emotion he jumps up and pushes past her. She reaches out to stop him but it is too late. He stands on top of the ledge and turns back for one last look at her before jumping.

YOU'RE GONNA KNOW

FROM STAGE VERSION STORYBOARD

She rushes out and looks over the ledge. She gasps at the sight of his body being tossed in the rocky surf below. Behind her she hears someone come in the room. She clutches her amulet tightly as she storms back inside. She sees the young man standing there, a puzzling look on his face. She then notices the note and the ring. She frantically scans the page, one eye on the young man. Throwing the note to the floor, she then raises her sleeves and uses a sharp edge of a letter opener to cut herself, blood quickly streaming down her arm All the while the young man continues to back away from her. He stumbles, cornering himself: his back pinned to the wall. He clutches at the satchel’s clasp, fumbling to open it as she closes on him. Brandishing the letter opener, she stares him down forcing her forearm to his face. He tightens his mouth shut and turns his head away. With a firm grasp, she sharply turns his face to her, and looks deeply into his eyes. His will subsiding, he reluctantly yet anxiously waits for her kiss. A flicker of lightning causes her to look back upon the balcony. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something. Her glittering angel. She abruptly pulls away sending him off balance to the floor, and storms furiously about throwing the bloody opener across the room. The lightning storm reaches fever pitch. She exits onto the balcony, and ends up staring out from the precipice where the despondent lover had jumped, out of breath, furiously squeezing her amulet. His battered body never to be seen again.

WON'T RUN

FROM STAGE VERSION STORYBOARD

He struggles to his feet. His eyes wander about the room. She is aware of his movements, but keeps her back to him. The satchel, now open, lies nearby, his eyes , staining to focus inside it, he then turns to look at her. She is right there, face to face, staring at him. He impulsively reaches in to his bag and maneuvers himself away from her.

Shocked and angered to see the hammer in his hand, she will not allow this to proceed. Seething, she circles. He counters. He tightens his grip on the hammer. He swings it about, at the same time struggling to keep his eyes upon her amidst the constant flashes from the rampaging storm. She has had enough, and makes a move for him. Wrestling furiously, and showing strength he could not forsee, she throws him to the floor Colliding with the bureau, ,he drops his hammer as the the lamp falls, igniting the drapes between them. He kicks the lamp towards her. More flames rise as the fire spreads. She looks about frantically as her entire room catches fire. She stalks him menacingly. The entire room now ablaze, a weakened beam falls, narrowly missing his head. Hammer now out of reach, and left with no other choice, he dives through a window, glass shattering everywhere.

HOT PURSUIT

FROM STAGE VERSION STORYBOARD

Outside, the storm is breaking. He scours the balcony. He sees what may be a way out via a nearby stairwell. Behind him, she comes crashing through another window. Both of them are bleeding. He sprints the entire length of stairs in but a few strides. He's not sure where to go. He chooses quickly. To the left. Stairwells. Down he races. Turns. The blod in his eyes making it hard to see. More stairs. Finally, a courtyard, and a clear path towards the brush.

She is closing in quickly, the sight and the smell of the blood igniting her. She sees him vaulting the fence to the south side of the courtyard.

He can hear her coming as he dashes through the thick brush. Branches snap and tear at him. The moonset casts long shadows across his path, making it difficult to see. He chances upon the overgrown pathway and runs as fast as his feet will carry him towards the beach. Once there, he finds it a poor choice, the low tide providing nothing but soft sand. He stops and looks for an alternate route. There is none. Perhaps a bit further. He runs and runs. She is gaining. Behind them the entire manor is ablaze. Shrieks and screams of the terrified guests can be heard in the distance. The powdery sand swallows his feet as he struggles along, searching for an escape. Then, the ominous sight of a graveyard. Out of breath he sees a large crypt near the shoreline. Perhaps he can find a place to hide. Almost there, but too late. Completely exhausted, he shuffles to a standstill. He collapses.

SOMETHING STRANGE

DIGITAL MONTAGE

Her prey has fallen near the crypt. The chase is over, he is hers. She tilts up her head to smell the air. She makes her way towards him. He tries to rise up, summoning the last of his strength. Nearby a rooster crows.

Back on his feet, he intends to stand his ground. She suddenly slows, as if she were feeling faint. She sees the glow on the horizon. She continues to head towards the crypt.

She approaches him, tugging restlessly at her amulet. He tries to fight her off. Her energy draining and his completely gone, she takes him by the collar., and, for the third time, send him crashing to the ground. The sun is rising, the moon has set. She looks back. The first glimmer of daylight captivates her, sending her to her knees. She can't turn away. She suddenly tears off the amulet. The glittering sunshine washes in. She thinks she sees someone familiar. She reaches out for the angel, knee deep in the water, to take her hand. The amulet falls to the sand. She understands. She walks to the edge of the shore and into the water. She bows her head and clasps her hands in prayer. She continues towards the dawn. The ocean shimmers like a million diamonds. By the time the weary young man rises she is gone. He sees only the sparkle of gentle waves lapping at the shore. Sunrise.