Klon – A Short Script

FADE IN:

INT. THE LONG HALLWAY

A tall, thin, and handsome man with brown hair in a white jumpsuit stands a long hallway. The floors and walls are covered with a reflective material. The hallway creates prism-like representations of himself that surround him, but none are complete. The many angles create a refracted, shattered image. He is confused yet aware.  

He looks down at his wristwatch, broken and cracked, it no longer functions. An identification badge hangs from his neck. He holds it up to see: Name: DR. ANTON OVECHKIN, Section: DIVISION 4, Homebase: ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA. He lets the lanyard fall and looks up towards the end of the hallway.   

There is a large red door at the end with a small amount of light leaking from the frame. He slowly moves toward it. To both his left and right, white doors line the hall, only a foot or two of space in between them. They are small white rooms.

Anton makes his way past a few doors and the sound of a violin sound comes from a door behind him. He stops. The violin stops. He begins to walk again, and the music begins again. He stops. The music stops. He turns to investigate the door. 

He walks to the door and stares through a small opening. Only his eyes fill the space. He sees a man. Tall, thin, handsome. He cannot see his face. The man is inspecting his violin. The man looks up to reveal his face. Anton recognizes his face. It is him. A copy. He opens the door.

INT. SMALL WHITE ROOM

The copy greets Anton with a wry smile. He raises his violin to his chin and begins to play “In the Hall of the Mountain King.” Anton slowly moves toward the copy.

ANTON

Excuse me, who are you?

Disgruntled, the copy stops playing the song.

THE COPY

I am Anton Ovechkin, Division 4, Alexandria Base.

ANTON

How can that be? Where did you come from?

THE COPY

I’m from Virginia.

ANTON

How did you get here?

THE COPY

I’ve always been here.

Anton’s confusion is fast becoming aggression. 

ANTON

How did you get here from Virginia?

THE COPY

Same as you. Our father brought us here.

ANTON

My father’s been dead for twenty years.

THE COPY

So, he has, but he, like us, has been reborn. All will be reborn. The maker does not stop when our progress ends.

ANTON

Our progress? What the hell are talking about? Who the hell are you?

THE COPY

I am Anton Ovechkin, Division 4, Alexandria Base. For one of the leading scientists on this vessel doctor, you don’t seem to have your wits about you today. Maybe you should visit the father?

The copy sits back down and begins to play again. Anton is now visibly shaking with anger. He looks at his id card again. He looks at the copy. 

ANTON

What father? What’s going on here?

The copy is no longer paying attention to Anton. He begins to yell.

ANTON (CONT’D)

This is wrong! You are not me! I was not brought here. I am a member of the Space Expansion Division, Colonization Front. I am a Botanist who is here to develop new forms of plant species that can grow off-world.

The copy stops playing and turns  and looks at Anton. The song continues, however, now coming from the hallway. 

THE COPY

That mission is over, Doctor.

The copy goes back to playing, now playing in sync with the music heard in the hallway.

ANTON

How could the mission have ended? We just began our work a few days ago.

The copy pays no attention.

ANTON (CONT’D)

Answer me!

Anton aggressively moves towards the copy and grabs him by the shoulders and begins to shake him. The violin falls to the floor and cracks in half.   

ANTON (CONT’D)

Please! Answer me! What has happened here?!

Anton continues to shake the copy. He shakes and shakes, harder and harder. The copy begins to cry and soon after, becomes entirely unresponsive. It is dead.

Anton lets go of the copy and it falls lifeless to the floor. He backs out of the room, gasping for air. He grasps at his chest, panic overwhelms him. “In The Hall of The Mountain King” loudly fills the hallway. He looks at the red door.

The light intensifies around the door frame. It grows brighter and brighter. Panicked but with purpose, he begins to make his way to the door. He stumbles over his own feet, sweat dripping from every pore.

The song fills the halls. Louder. Louder. LOUDER. Anton cannot hear himself, mind or body. As he moves past the small rooms, he sees himself playing the violin, over and over. He looks down at the floor and sees himself refracted into eternity. He makes it to the door. He opens it.

Light fills the screen. A roaring hum. He closes his eyes. There is only darkness and silence for a moment. He opens them again. He sits in a small white room holding a violin. He begins to play.  The door opens.  

A VOICE

Excuse me, who are you?