ExT. forested hilly landscape -- day

Bird's eye view rolling across the wilderness as the voice over rolls across leading to the title.

(V.O.)

We start out in this shindig called life with what I like to call a lollipop look, as innocent and as pristine as the snow cappin the top of those rocks we call mountains. But as our legs churn through the mud of the road we learn fast and hard that everything comes down to choices, the lollipops dropping their flavor the more of them choices we make, all things living and dying on their lick. And no matter how far or wide those legs of yours get you, bane or boon, those choices nip at your heels. And sooner or later you end up chin to chin with the demon dogs them choices done made, and hope to all highwater you got what it takes to live'em down. Now this here you about to be told is one of those tales, the kind whispered around a late night fire when the bones of age have taken their toll and left little else, when the only thing still spinning webs is memory, and as we all know, memory is a fickle beast. Danile and Momma sitting in a tree k - i - s -s....

Ext. Woods -- day

A deer gallops at full speed through the woods, leaping over dead fall branches in a stunning display of agility, dancing between trees, moving in liquid grace. After a particular graceful move around a tree, a large piece of dead fall lays in front of the deer. With a mighty leap it jumps the wood but in mid clear at it's apex, a shot sounds and it's head disappears in a bloody mess. The camera reverses the angle of the track of the bullet through brush, tree limbs up to a hill a whopping 150 yards away where Daniel "Blades" Williamson is standing up, his henry in his hand, a smile on his face. He pulls a large blade off his thigh(Gladius) and starts stalking towards his prize.

INT. General store -- western frontier settlement -- 1867 -- dusk

A man dressed in frayed furs and leather, several blades strapped to a bandolier across his chest, forearms, and two on thigh sheaths, a pistol on his hip, and a rifle slung across his back (Daniel "Blades" Williamson-- a hunter and trapper by trade) with the worn time of horrors drifting upon his countenance is finishing his trade of furs to the general store owner who is frontier tradesman of a small general store in a small settlement in the back end of nowhere.

Mr. Stokes (owner)

Are you sure I can't talk you into staying on in town Daniel. We sure have enjoyed all the meat and furs you been bringing. We could sorely use such. I tell you the town of Lowell is booming, a place to set your oats, to make somethin' that lasts.

Daniel looks nervous, shifting back and forth, then his eyes once darting settle on Mr. Stokes, deep as the furnace of Hell.

Daniel

No. No Mr. Stokes, sir. I have already stayed longer then I should. I got to keep movin', always movin', keep the sun at my back at the end of the day. Keep steppin' these legs of mine till my mind ain't got no memory left.

Mr. Stokes sighs a regrettable moment.

MR. STOKES

Well I am 54 years young Daniel and in all that time I have learned a thing or two about a thing or two. The most important piece of gold I picked up is this. You can never run far enough. Whatever is haunting you son is with you wherever you are and one day you are gonna have to turn your face to the teeth of that beast.

Daniel looks haunted reliving days of death and recompense.

DANIEL

Be that as it may Mr. Stokes I got to be heading on. But if I could ask ya what I can expect out west of here I'd sure appreciate it. Any towns and such I could be unloading what I hunt tween here and there that would sure be a boon I reckon if you could tell me such.

Mr. Stokes sighs again.

MR. STOKES

Sure I can son. About a two week's travel west of here is a town called Shelton. It's about the same size as here, nice folk. It's just past the hills. And there's plenty a good hunting between here and there. Someone of your skill with that rifle of yours won't be having no trouble bagging a buck or two I'd reckon though it will be sore losing you. As I said we sure could use you here and a warm welcome you'd get, but I see in your eyes that you got it set to be doing what you be doing so I won't be standing in your road.

DANIEL

Two weeks?. Nothing closer to here huh? Well it will be what it is as my old Sergeant used to say.

Mr. Stokes looks nervous thinking wether he should say something or not.

MR. STOKES

Well there is another place a little less then a week's travel up on the top of them hills but I wouldn't suggest it. In fact I would say avoid the place, nothing but dark tales coming out of that cess pit. Run by some religious nut goes by the name of the Shepard. Yes sir son, I would stay clear of that place.

Daniel

Hmm...well I'll be takin' your advice Mr. Stokes though will have to manage living without the comforts of a bed a little longer(smile) then I'd like.

Daniel gathers his pack on the floor to his back.

DANIEL (CONT'D)

Though I better hit the road before it gets any closer to night. Get some miles under the belt before the moon sends me to sleep.

He nods his head and starts to step outside before turning back one last time

DANIEL (CONT'D)

What's the name of the town by the way I should be avoidin'?

MR. STOKES

Lonesome Hill and a more fitting name I do not know though as I said stay clear of the place. More a fortress then a town as I heard. Dark tales. Dark indeed.

EXT. outside general store in small town -- dusk

Mr. Stokes stands in the doorway of his store watching Daniel mount his horse grabbing the tether of his mule then heading off to the west into the forested hills.

EXT. SMALL MUD WASHED ROAD SKIRTING HILLS -- DUSK

Daniel is struggling heavily leaning through a mudsucked road in a heavy lightning lit storm leading his horse and the tether of a mule laden in furs. He can see no more then a few feet in front of his face through the sleet of rain.

DANIEL

Damn all to hell!!! The whole damn ocean is dumping on our heads!!!

Daniel walks a few more steps before tripping and falling to his knees in the soup of mud. He glances up and sees two rickety signs posted on the road. One points in the direction he is already heading saying "Shelton" the second points at an even smaller dirt path leading up in the hills and says "Lonesome Hill"

DANIEL (CONT'D)

Damn! Damn! Damn! Sorry Mr. Stokes, gonna have to ignore your advice. I need to get out of this dog dump.

Daniel gets off his knees and starts pulling the horse and mule up the small dirt path towards Lonesome Hill the journey starting to a giant peal of lightning and thunder.