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INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

The bedframe groans under the weight of both Art and Isabel as the two of them, the latter on top and the former on bottom, flop down atop the mattress at the same time. They kiss each other passionately, almost frantically, hands and fingers probing unexplored depths while simultaneously ensuring that the other can’t break away.
They waste no time in starting to undress – Art pulls off and casts aside Isabel’s shirt once she’s gotten it up above her shoulders to move things along – and as she fumbles with her bra strap and his hands move to her hips they gaze at each other wordlessly for a long moment. In this instant, the earlier uncertainty and apprehension in Art’s face returns, as if he’s searching for a sign that he’s indeed making a mistake and this whole encounter is merely the bravado of a confused and frightened child. Searching her face, however, he finds nothing but a hardened and measured yet tired coolness in her eyes, the look of someone who’s left innocence a lifetime behind them, and any remaining resistance on his part evaporates as she gingerly slides her bra straps off her shoulders and down her arms, exposing her bare chest as the garment is allowed to fall away off the side of the bed.
With a sultry seductiveness Isabel allows herself to fall upon Art, smashing her breasts against his chest, and cups his face in her hands, planting a kiss first on his lips, then his cheek, gradually working down the side of his face to his neck. Art, allowing his eyes to flutter closed, removes one of his hands from her hip and brings it up to gently caress the back of her head, lost in the experience of it all.
But something’s changing – as Isabel continues to peck at his neck, now also BITING hard enough to turn his skin red, her breathing grows more rapid, her pace more frantic and her kisses more passionate, almost of an animalistic quality. Hovering over Art’s jugular, she pulls away for just a moment - there’s a flash of REPTILIAN GREEN in her eyes as her breathing turns more to GROWLING - and suddenly, her primary canines now elongated into a pair of RAZOR-SHARP FANGS, SHE DIVES AT HIS NECK WITH AN INHUMAN SCREECH, SINKING HER TEETH DEEP INTO THE SOFT, EXPOSED FLESH!!!
ART’S EYES SPRING OPEN, FILLED WITH NEWFOUND SHOCK AND TERROR, AND AS HE TRIES TO SCREAM ONLY A RASPING GURGLE ESCAPES HIS LIPS, BLOOD QUICKLY FILLING HIS MOUTH AND STAINING HIS WHITE TEETH A DEEP CRIMSON! WITH ONE HAND HE PUSHES HER UP IN AN ATTEMPT TO SEPARATE THEM WHILE BALLING THE OTHER INTO A FIST AND REPEATEDLY STRIKING HER IN THE SIDE, THE ENTIRETY OF THE STRENGTH OF HIS ARMS DEDICATED TO TRYING TO PRY HER OFF, BUT ISABEL IS LOCKED ONTO HIM LIKE A VICE AND KEEPS HIM PINNED WITH IMPOSSIBLE FORCE!
With each passing second Art’s resistance grows more feeble – he gurgles weakly, the hot blood spilling from his jugular coating his shirt, the bed sheets, and Isabel’s face and neck – but as he continues to THRASH WILDLY attempting to free himself he manages to WORK HIS LEGS UP BETWEEN THEM, PLANTING BOTH FEET AGAINST HER CHEST AND KICKING HER OFF THE BED!
Hacking and gasping in his struggle for air, Art staggers to his feet, one hand tightly clutched against the open bite wound from which blood continues to pour, but Isabel is up in an instant, her eyes now an UNNATURAL GREEN CUT DOWN THE MIDDLE BY BLACK SLITS OF PUPILS. She pants heavily, EYEING HIM WITH A DEADLY SERIOUSNESS AKIN TO A HUNTER STARING DOWN ITS TERRIFIED PREY, and he meets her gaze, neither of them daring to move for several long, tense seconds.
But then, Art’s eyes flick for just a moment from his attacker to the hotel room door just behind her, and by the time he looks back to Isabel SHE’S LUNGING AT HIM, ALREADY HAVING DEDUCED HIS INTENTIONS! HE SHOULDER-CHECKS HER OUT OF THE WAY AND MAKES A BREAK FOR THE EXIT, BUT WITH INHUMAN STRENGTH SHE GRABS HIM BY THE SHOULDERS AND PULLS HIM BACK, THROWING HIM ONTO THE BED WITH SUCH FORCE THAT THE FRAME CRACKS AUDIBLY AND NEARLY COLLAPSES!
BEFORE ART CAN RE-ORIENT HIMSELF ISABEL POUNCES ON TOP OF HIM, STRADDLING HIM TO PREVENT HIS ESCAPE, AND AS HE DESPERATELY THROWS A HAND UP TO HOLD HER AT BAY AND PREVENT HER FROM BITING SHE WRENCHES HIS ARM TO THE SIDE AND LUNGES AGAIN AT HIS NECK WITH A SNARL! THIS TIME HER AIM IS TRUE, WITH TEETH FINDING FLESH ONCE AGAIN NEARER TO THE TRACHEA, AND AS ART LETS LOOSE A BONE-CHILLING SCREAM SHE RIPS HER HEAD UP AND AWAY, TAKING WITH IT IN HER MOUTH A SIZEABLE PORTION OF HIS THROAT THAT REDUCES SAID SCREAM TO A RASPY, GURGLING DEATH RATTLE!!!
Coughing and wheezing, Art’s final agonizing moments of life are spent choking on his own blood while Isabel drinks thirstily from his seizing body all the while. Finally, he falls still, his breathing no more, and the triumphant predator is free to feast unopposed upon her catch.

CUT TO BLACK:

FADE IN:

INT. BEDROOM - MORNING
The only light in the darkened hotel room is a sliver of sun peeking out from behind the curtains drawn over the large rectangular window near the door. Even so, flecks of blood can be seen in various places across the tan carpet, the droplets increasing in size and decreasing in spacing between them as one approaches the bed.
Art’s splayed and mangled corpse lies motionless in its same position. The comforter and sheets, the headboard of the bed, and even the wall above him are covered with his blood, ladled out gratuitously from his carotid like paint from a can. Next to him, beneath the crimson-coated sheets, is Isabel, sleeping soundly and seemingly unfazed alongside her latest victim. Dried blood is caked onto her chin from the mouth down, and small flecks speckle her face and forehead.
After a beat her eyes flutter open, and with a yawn she sits up slowly, resting her back against the headboard. Another few seconds pass before she acknowledges Art’s remains with a look in his direction. His ripped-out throat and wide, dead eyes are a gruesome sight, and she lingers on it for only a moment before emerging from beneath the covers and heading for the bathroom.

INT. BATHROOM
Steam rises in billowing clouds from behind the shower curtain. Isabel stands with eyes closed beneath the shower head, the hot water taking the dried blood with it as it washes over her bare skin and spirals, rose-tinted, down the drain. A beat longer and she reaches for the handle to shut off the water, wiping her eyes with one hand while reaching out past the curtain for her towel with the other, pulling it off its hanger and into the shower with her.

INT. BEDROOM
The bathroom door opens and Isabel steps out, fully clothed and drying her damp black hair with a pure white towel. Stepping around the bed, she sets her towel aside on a chair near the window and approaches Art’s body, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a brown leather wallet. Opening it up, she examines its contents – about a hundred bucks in cash, his driver’s license, a credit and debit card, and a few loyalty cards from various shopping and eating establishments. The last thing she retrieves isn’t unexpected but stops her nonetheless – the photograph which had earlier been shown to her back at the restaurant, worn and creased from age and storage in the wallet. Now visible to the audience, the picture is shown to be one of a smiling Art and his daughter SARAH, a pretty, friendly-looking girl of about 14, embracing each other warmly in a booth at a roadside diner not unlike the one she stopped at with him the previous night.
Lowering the photograph, Isabel’s eyes return to Art. For a moment she looks upon him with what appears to be pity, perhaps regretful of what she’s done, and slips the memento of happier times into his rigor-stricken hand as best she can. The wallet, with the rest of its contents, she stuffs into her pocket, not keen on leaving it to allow for quicker identification by whoever comes looking for him.
The keys to the truck rest on the nightstand situated between the two of them, and snatching them up she wheels on a dime and heads for the door, any real emotion from the previous moment hidden away behind her cool façade once again.

EXT. HOTEL PARKING LOT – MORNING
The early morning sunlight is almost blinding in contrast to the near-pitch black of the hotel room. Art’s pickup truck sits in its same spot between his room and the one intended to be Isabel’s, and stepping out into the warmth of the sun she steps over to the driver’s side door and begins searching the key ring for the one to unlock the truck. After several seconds of searching she finds it, sticking it into the lock and twisting to the left before tugging the handle, and as the door swings open she climbs up into the driver’s seat and shuts it firmly behind her.

INT. TRUCK CAB
Inside the truck, Isabel looks around for a moment, readjusting herself to the sights inside in the opposite seat of the one she’d spent a good portion of the previous night in, before reaching down into the floorboard of the passenger’s seat to retrieve her ballcap. She shakes it out once, sending up a plume of dust particles clearly visible in the light, and pulls back her hair into a tight ponytail, threading it through the opening at the back of the hat and placing the article back atop her head.
A second thought gives her momentary pause, and she reaches back over to the passenger’s side, opening up the glove compartment. Inside rests a polished chrome revolver, the weapon’s black handle the only part clearly visible outside of the brown leather holster within which it resides. The sight of this causes her to smile slightly, and closing the compartment again she sticks the keys into the ignition and twists, the engine coming to life with a gentle hum.

EXT. PARKING LOT
From outside the vehicle we watch as Isabel shifts into reverse to delicately begin guiding the truck out of the parking spot, turning to look out the rear windshield as she does so. Once she’s out she stops, shifts gears again, and cuts the wheel hard, doing a quick three-sixty in the middle of the near-empty lot to turn around and head for the exit to the main road.
At the exit she stops again momentarily, and with the rear of the vehicle now facing us we see the truck’s left turn signal activated before it leisurely pulls out onto the main road. After only a second or two it disappears from sight, the roar of the engine fading as it tears off down the pavement, and like that Isabel’s long gone.

FADE TO BLACK:

THE END