SCARE ME! entries

Collapse

Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.
X
 
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • SCARE ME! entries

    6 entries... no make that 7 now... if any more trickle in, I'll add them to the thread and insert UPDATED! into the thread title.

    Untitled #1
    Day 112
    The Keys
    Adreneline
    Johannes Misert
    Swampland
    ANDROID-VALENTINE

    You know how it goes, read the entries, pick your 1st, 2nd and 3rd favorite choices and PM them to me, preferably in the format:

    1st - title1
    2nd - title2
    3rd - title3

    Please don't vote for your own entry. If this was allowed then everyone would do it, so it would just cloud the voting.

    You don't need to be in the contest to play, all DDP members are welcome to read and vote.

    If you don't like the code boxes, which preserve formatting, try selecting Thread Tools > Show Printable Version instead.

    Shout if you find any formatting problems with your entry! They all looked pretty clean to me, I didn't have to do too much tidying. Note that cuss words are asterisked out by the board's potty mouth filter, I've tried to make what was said more clear.

    For posterity, the discussion thread is here and the results thread is here.
    Last edited by dpaterso; 09-05-2017, 12:41 AM.

  • #2
    Re: SCARE ME! entries

    Code:
    Excerpt from a 86 page screen play with three paragraphs
    added to give reference
    
    EXT. ISOLATED BEACH - NIGHT
    
    A few beach houses dot the landscape just above the high tide
    mark and the woods. Not mansions but middle class family
    accomodation on a third rate beach. One, a small one of
    maybe three rooms sits apart from the others.
    
    The bach (as they're known locally) has been closed up for
    the winter. Plywood shutters stopping burglars or vandals.
    
    Right now though, the shutters, one on each wall are being
    held closed. By people, weary, frustrated and frightened
    looking people.
    
    We don't see what's inside.  Yet!
    
    
    EXT. NORTH WINDOW - NIGHT
    
    Sam is dozing, his head rests against the plywood shutter,
    both arm rest above his head, like he's being crucified, legs
    far apart for balance.
    
                          JIMMY (O.S.)
              Sam?  You there Sam?
    
    Sam jerks awake and rams both hands against the shutter.
    
                           SAM
              Yeah.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              You're doing... good... work out
              there y'know man?
    
                           SAM
              I know it.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              You're not letting me out are you?
              
                           SAM
              Nope.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Good. Good. This thing that's got
              me is dangerous Sam... f*cking
              dangerous. You've got no idea what
              it'll do if it gets loose.
    
    Sam looks surprised at the candor.
    
                        SAM
              How dangerous?
    
    There is a pause.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Don't let it out Sam. It'll
              f*cking slaughter all of you.
              That'll just be an entree. It'll
              chew up your family, your friends,
              everything you know. It'll make
              the world a wasteland.
    
    There's weary fear in his voice.
    
                        SAM
              What is it Jimmy... really?
    
    There is silence.
    
                        SAM (CONT'D)
              What is it? Are you a...a...?
    
                        JIMMY
                  (low and slow and sly)
              A what Sam? Go on Sammy, say it?
    
                        SAM
              Are you a demon?
    
                        JIMMY
                  (Laughs)
              A what?   Common man... You've been
              watching too many bad movies Sam.
                  (hypnotically)
              I'm just Jimmy, you should let me
              out. It's safe. Let me out, it'll
              be OK, it'll be good: I'll be good.
    
                           SAM
              Liar!  I can't trust anything you
              say.
    
                        JIMMY
              Can't you trust anything I don't
              say? Yeah I'm a demon Sam,
              straight from the inner circle of
              Hell. You know I am.
              
                        SAM
              Bullsh*t! No! Why would a demon
              bother with us?
    
                        JIMMY
              You want the truth?
    
    Sam snorts.
    
                           SAM
              Truth?
    
                        JIMMY
              Truth. I was just passing and
              heard Emmy call with the Ouija.
              Pure dumb luck.
    
                        SAM
              Just Passing?
    
                        JIMMY
              Sh*t happens Sam. Pure dumb luck.
              Good for me, bad for you.
              Sometimes you pick the right
              numbers and win lotto, other times
              you're on the wrong plane screaming
              as it falls from the sky. No God,
              no devil, just plain dumb luck.
    
    Silence; Sam considers this. Several times he looks about to
    pose a question, each time he seems to come up with the
    answer himself. Finally he just shakes his head.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.) (CONT'D)
              What about the others Sam?
    
                        SAM
              What about them?
    
    There is another pause and a scuttling sound, like dogs claws
    on wood.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Well you're big and strong
              ...you're a leader... Hell, you've
              got your sh*t together. I know I'm
              not getting past you any time soon.
    
                          SAM
              Yeah!  You're f*cking not!
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              What about them? Can you really
              trust them when things get tough?
    
                        SAM
              Yeah I can... they're sh*tting
              bricks over you. They want you
              right where you are.
    
                           JIMMY (O.S.)
              Scared?
    
                           SAM
              Terrified.
    
                        JIMMY
              I like that. It makes me feel all
              warm and tingly inside.
    
    
    INT. CABIN - NIGHT
    
    In the darkness all we can see is an eye and a sliver of
    face. It's not so much Jimmy anymore. There is silence then
    a really evil, very grubby chuckle.
    
    
    EXT. NORTH WINDOW - NIGHT
    
    Sam stares at the wall/chuckle.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              In fact I think I'll go talk to
              them instead then. Sounds more
              productive that this conversation.
    
    There comes the noise of long nails on wood again. Suddenly
    Sam comes fully awake when he realizes what he's done. He
    bangs on the shutter with his fist.
    
                       SAM
              No. Jimmy? No! Jimmy get back
              here.  Jimmy?! Jimmy talk to
              me... Guys, look out, he's coming!
    
    Sam looks around frantically. He goes to leave his window
    but doesn't/can't. He gets to the point where just his
    finger tips are touching the wood. He is torn between
    staying and going to help his "weaker" companions.
    
                        SAM (CONT'D)
              Who's he talking to? Guys? Who's
              Jimmy talking to? Don't listen to
              him. Amy? Colin? Clare? Jimmy?
    
    Sam becomes increasingly agitated.
    
                        SAM (CONT'D)
              Who's he talking to? F*ck!
    
    There are muffled negative answers from around the corner.
    Briefly his fingers loose contact with the shutter.
    
                        SAM (CONT'D)
              No... no, speak up... who's he not
              talking to? Amy?
    
                         AMY (O.S.)
              No.
    
                           SAM
               Colin?  Is that bastard talking to
               you?
    
                           COLIN (O.S.)
               No man.
    
                         SAM
               Guys don't listen to him okay.
    
    Silence. Sam's fingers finally lose contact with the shutter
    as he stretches out to look around the corner.
    
    BANG!!!  Beside Sam the shutter flexes as it's struck from
    within.
    
    His fingers bend back painfully. He jumps and stumbles and
    the shutter starts to swing open... Something dark and evil
    emerges from the shadows.
    
    Sam leaps up and drives the shutter closed with his shoulder,
    fighting against whatever's within.
    
    Then he rests against it, breathing heavily. He tests his
    injured fingers, they work but he winces at the pain. There
    is a gentle tapping from within that attracts his attention
    after a moment.
    
                         JIMMY (O.S.)
               Almost gotcha didn't I lover boy?
               You really think you can keep this
               up til dawn?
    
    Silence. Sam just looks relieved that he was able to close
    the shutter. He is trembling.
    
                         JIMMY (CONT'D)
               What scares you Samuel?
    
                           SAM
               Nothing.
    
                           JIMMY
               Nothing?
                         SAM
               That's right! And sure not you. I
               guess that's where you're heading?
    
                         JIMMY (O.S.)
               Me? Why should you be scared of
               me... hoppy, der Ubergymp? There's
               no reason for you to be scared of
               me is there? And yet... I think
               you are. I hear it in your voice.
    
                        SAM
              Piss off Jimmy!
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              There's only one group of people
              who don't feel fear Sam, are you in
              this elite group?
    
                         SAM
              Yeah!  I'm not f*cking scared.
    
                         JIMMY (O.S.)
              Only stupid people aren't scared
              Sam. They lack the imagination to
              conceive anything outside their
              limited experience that might tear
              them limb from limb.
                  (beat)
              No reaction? Sam I'm impressed.
    
                        SAM
              I'm not scared, you're starting to
              bore me.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Well okay dude, I'm off for real
              this time. Do you believe me?
              Honestly.   I'm going. Now. Would
              I lie to you? You can relax now
              Sammy. Going... Going. Really.
              Sammy I'm going.
    
    Manic laughter... then claws scuttling away on wood.
    
    Sam listens, trying to tell if Jimmy has really left.
    
    
    EXT. FRONT DOOR - NIGHT
    
    Clare is sitting with her back against the door looking tired
    and frightened. She heard the commotion around the corner
    and doesn't know what's happening. She's hugging her knees.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Hey Clare babe.
    
                        CLARE
              Get away from me.
    
    She shudders as though something has run down her spine.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Don't be like that. You didn't
              used to be like that, you were
              somebody I could count on.
    
    Silence for a while.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.) (CONT'D)
              So... how are things?
    
                           CLARE
              "Things?"
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              You know, things... stuff. It's
              been a long night, you doing
              alright out there?
    
                           CLARE
              "Alright?"
    
    Brief pause.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              You're just repeating everything I
              say Babe. Bet your Daddy brought
              you up better than that.
    
                        CLARE
              You leave my Father out of this.
    
    
    INT. CABIN - NIGHT
    
    A shaft of light falls across the room. Jimmy smiles, that's
    all we see; at first.  A cockroach scuttles across the floor
    when a hand lashes out grabbing the insect. We hear
    CRUNCHING sounds and a soft belch.
    
                        JIMMY
                  (quietly)
              Run, run, flee for your lives.
    
    He leans against the door, exhausted.  And twitches again.
    
    
    EXT. FRONT DOOR C/U - NIGHT
    
    In the moonlight dozens of insects flee the cabin, under the
    door, past Clare's arse and out into the grass.
    
    
    EXT. FRONT DOOR - DAY
    
    The sounds are at the limits of hearing outside, even so
    Clare catches something and moves her head to hear better.
    
                        CLARE
              What are you doing in there?
    
                           JIMMY (O.S.)
              Truth?  I'm thinking about you
              Clare.  Naked.
    
    A look of distaste crosses her face. She bites her lower lip.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.) (CONT'D)
              Cut off Jeans laying on the floor.
              A white T-shirt crumpled beside it.
              Panties caught around one ankle.
              Ohhh babe you are sweating. Your
              hair's plastered to your face...
              and you're biting your bottom lip.
    
    She stops biting her lip as though stung.  Jimmy chuckles.
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.) (CONT'D)
              There's little beads of sweat
              across your brow Clare, hot animal
              sweat. You're panting like crazy
              Clare, you can't control yourself.
                  (deep breathing)
              You writhing around, your legs are
              wrapped around me, your fingers are
              clutching deep into the carpet.
              Ohhhh Baby don't fight it. You
              know you love it. You're making
              little piggy grunts babe (ugh-ugh-
              ugh(pig squeal)).
              I thought you were saying stop but
              you were saying harder, harder
              HARDER HAAARRRDDDDEEEERRRR
              JIMMY!!!!!!! DO ME...DO ME...
              DOOOO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
    
                        CLARE
              Shut the f*ck up, you bastard!
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Clare! Don't speak like that.
                  (her father's voice)
    
    Clare looks shock, angry and indignant.
    
                        CLARE
              Don't you... Shut up!
    
                        JIMMY (O.S.)
              Common Clare. Don't start playing
              the prude. It called for the blood
              of a virgin to carry me here; it
              wasn't you they came for! Yeah, it
              was Emmy; which surprised the f*ck
              outta me. Now Clare; why is the
              f*ck wasn't it you?
    
    (end excerpt)

    Comment


    • #3
      Re: SCARE ME! entries

      Code:
      DAY 112
      
      FADE IN:
      
      EXT. CITY STREETS - DAY
      
      The sidewalks are empty.
      
      Cars have been abandoned.
      
      There's no sign of people.
      
      No sign of any kind of life.
      
      A newspaper is blown around by wind.
      
      We catch a glimpse of a headline, END OF THE WORLD?
      
      The newspaper moves on.
      
      No other movement.
      
      
      EXT. CROSSROADS - DAY
      
      A MAN in a biohazard suit, kinda like a spacesuit, stands 
      in the middle of the street.
      
      Let's call him The Spaceman.  It's as good a name as any.
      
      He waits there, motionless.
      
      For a long time.
      
      OVER THE STILLNESS:
      
      An electronic BEEPING, like a slow pulse.
      
      BEEP
      
      BEEP
      
      BEEP
      
      CLOSER ON THE SPACEMAN
      
      He holds an electronic gizmo in one hand.
      
      Like a chunky iPhone with a direction-finder hoop attached.
      
      BEEP
      
      He moves the gizmo slowly to his left.
      
      BEEP
      
      He moves the gizmo back to in front.
      
      BEEP
      
      He moves the gizmo slowly to his right.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      The Spaceman frowns.
      
      He moves the gizmo to the left again.
      
      BEEP
      
      He moves it to his right again.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      He quarter-turns to his right so he's facing that direction.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      His face, visible through his helmet visor, shows surprise.
      
      He checks the gizmo, fiddles with buttons.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      He looks in that direction again.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      His curiosity is piqued.
      
      He walks in that direction.
      
      
      EXT. DESERTED STREET - DAY
      
      They're all deserted.
      
      A faint BEEP BEEP The spaceman steps into view around the 
      corner of a building.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      He looks around.
      
      Nothing to be seen.  Just more abandoned cars.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      He consults his gizmo.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      As if it's trying to convince him something's here.
      
      He stares at a particular car.
      
      Its doors lie open.
      
      No one inside, it seems.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      But something is setting off the gizmo.
      
      He makes his way to the car.
      
      He pauses halfway.
      
      Looks around.
      
      Nothing.
      
      Dead streets.
      
      Dead city.
      
      He continues to the car.
      
      He stops at the car, bends down, peers inside.
      
      He jerks back, horrified.
      
      IN THE CAR
      
      A blonde-haired kid sits in the passenger seat.
      
      Or she used to be a kid.
      
      She's dead now, face shriveled, eye sockets empty.
      
      Her mouth is open in a silent scream.
      
      The Spaceman stares at the dead little girl.
      
      In her thin hand, a phone.
      
      In a cute bright Pikachu/Pokemon case.
      
      The Spaceman moves his gizmo closer to the phone.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      He pulls the gizmo away.
      
      He reaches in and takes hold of the phone.
      
      But the dead little girl won't let it go!
      
      He tugs, then tugs harder, then TUGS HARDER and pulls the 
      little girl over onto her side.
      
      But he got the phone.
      
      He stares at it.
      
      BEEP BEEP
      
      He throws the phone down on the ground.
      
      And he stamps on it.
      
      He stamps and he stamps and he stamps.
      
      Until the phone lies shattered.
      
      BEEP
      
      The Spaceman stands there, his head bowed inside his helmet.
      
      BEEP
      
      His shoulders shake.
      
      BEEP
      
      After about 30 seconds of silent sobbing, he raises his 
      head.
      
      Blinks tears from his eyes.
      
      Lets out a long sigh.
      
      BEEP
      
      He takes another gadget, a recorder, from his belt.
      
      He touches this to his helmet.
      
                            THE SPACEMAN (CONT'D)
                Day one hundred and twelve.  Mid 
                afternoon.
      
      BEEP
      
                            THE SPACEMAN (CONT'D)
                Another contact that turned out to 
                be nothing.  A dead child's phone.  
                Battery almost exhausted.  Sending 
                out an intermittent signal.  Picked 
                it up on the scanner.
      
      He looks around, up and down the street.
      
      BEEP
      
                            THE SPACEMAN (CONT'D)
                Will continue my sweep of this 
                area.  If I don't find anyone, 
                I'll cross the bridge.  See if I 
                can find anyone alive over there.  
                There has to be someone.  They 
                can't all be dead.
      
      BEEP
      
                            THE SPACEMAN (CONT'D)
                I have enough food supplies for 
                another four, five days.  It's 
                water that's the problem.  The 
                entire city's supply is toxic with 
                contamination.
      
      BEEP
      
                            THE SPACEMAN (CONT'D)
                I hope to God it rains soon.  I 
                hope it rains and washes all the 
                filth away.  I hope it rains so 
                hard it cleanses the world of its 
                sins.
      
      The Spaceman returns the recorder to his belt.
      
      He sets off down the street.
      
      The long, lonely, empty street.
      
      BEEP
      
      BEEP
      
      BEEP getting fainter and fainter.
      
      CUT TO BLACK:
      
      BEEP
      
      The End

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: SCARE ME! entries

        Code:
        "The Keys"
        
        Whirlpool of leaves ahead as we beat our way down this old
        moneyed avenue...
        
        We don't know who "we" are yet... the dream is crystal clear,
        we can see a pavement with black puddles from the recent
        storm.
        
        Either side, the quiet and stately old town houses form up
        like tombstones.
        
        This neighborhood is eerie as hell... it's as though nobody
        lives here. Rooms behind yellowing net curtains, old windy
        garrets.
        
        INT.   PSYCHIATRIST'S OFFICE - DAY
        
        The room is quiet and dark, behind the oak desk the
        PSYCHIATRIST, nestled in the shadows, is smoking a cigar,
        over his shoulder a net curtain furls on the breeze from the
        open sash.
        
                               PSYCHIATRIST
                   Rained all day yesterday, came down
                   like daggers.
        
                               PATIENT
                   That's Boston for you.
        
                               PSYCHIATRIST
                   You said you'd lived in L.A.
        
                               PATIENT
                   I've lived in many places, but I
                   prefer the old towns, they keep their
                   secrets.
        
                               PSYCHIATRIST
                   That's what interests you... secrets?
        
                               PATIENT
                   Everybody has them.
        
        We're in the dream again... walking past the stone tigers up
        moss covered stone steps... a hand reaches before us,
        extending slowly towards the lock, a BRASS KEY gleams, finds
        the old lock and CLICK...
        
        FLASHFORWARD
        
        The hallway, otherside of the door, we pan in, moving between
        police officers, a detective stands over an oil spill of
        blood, something is in an adjacent room, but the blood has
        made it under the door, into the hallway. Red and blue lights
        bounce their lurid beams off the walls, fear and chaos haunt
        the scene.
        
                              DETECTIVE
                  We got another one... that makes it-
        
                              PATIENT (V.O.)
                  Five.
        
        INT. PSYCHIATRIST'S OFFICE
        
        The breeze stirs the curtains... the psychiatrist leans
        forward, a strong face, square, not what we'd expect, the
        eyes dark, lacking that weasel intelligence.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  You said something about receiving
                  the keys in white envelopes, in the
                  mail?
        
                              PATIENT
                  I never said that I received them in
                  that way... I said that I kept them
                  in white envelopes afterwards.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  What was the whole envelope thing
                  about then-
        
                              PATIENT
                  So I could label them. I would write
                  the address on the envelope.
        
        We're in the dream but we don't know 'when' this is, we could
        be in FLASHBACK... or FLASHFORWARD. We seem to be hovering
        in an uncertain time.
        
        Similar neighborhood, old houses, there's snow on the ground,
        whoever "we are", we pass over the pavements in silence,
        stalking.... like a cat.
        
        At the gateway to the old mansion, we stop, unblemished snow
        leads up to the house, we approach in silence, padding on
        the snow, as we reach the doorway, two very old ornamental
        gas lamps either side, an iron eagle, wild eyes above the
        lock, the hand slowly extends, we see the gleam of the BRASS
        KEY...
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  You never get beyond the doors, huh,
                  in your fantasy you just see the
                  hand and the brass key enter the
                  lock?
        
                              PATIENT
                  Who said they were fantasies?
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Dreams, your dreams perhaps, they
                  end-
        
                              PATIENT
                  These are not dreams, I SEE AND FEEL
                  EVERYTHING... I AM REAL.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  How do you know? ... erm, how can
                  you tell?
        
                              PATIENT
                  You can always tell the difference
                  between a dream and even a waking
                  dream, and it was not either, what
                  did you refer to last time we met? a
                  "light daytime hallucination".
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  I'm sorry, but we're digressing-
        
                              PATIENT
                  Anyway, I never said that I didn't
                  go inside. I saw the entire scene.
        
        The psychiatrist exhales, a foam of smoke hangs in the air
        between him and the patient.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  You were there... before the police,
                  before even the detectives?
        
                              PATIENT
                  That's a disgusting habit by the
                  way.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Let's keep to the subject.
        
                              PATIENT
                  Sure... I was there.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  You saw the victims... the reports
                  said they were cut up and several
                  were without a head.
        
                              PATIENT
                  I'll come back to that. I can see
                  you particularly enjoy those details.
        
        The psychiatrist staggers to his feet, he appears to have a
        slight limp or something... easing out of his tall black
        chair he creeps back into the gloom of the room and rests
        against the windows ledge.
        
        The patient remains in the darkness, a blinding white lamp
        makes no impact on his face. Sullen beams enscribe a circle
        on the oak table.
        
                              PATIENT
                  You seem to be in some kind of pain.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  I'll be okay, I just have to stretch
                  now and again.
        
                              PATIENT
                  You haven't asked me about the keys.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Which particular detail, I know that
                  they were brass, they all seemed to
                  be the same... which is-
        
                              PATIENT
                  Odd. Don't you think.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Many fantasies, waking dreams...
                  repeat the same detail, it's often a
                  kind of trope, or metaphor.
        
                              PATIENT
                  I said that I was there-
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  The background changes, the people,
                  the street, the color of cars, a new
                  suit, pinstipe, not grey but the
                  metaphor remains, a kind of marker-
        
                              PATIENT
                  I- said- that- I- was- there.
        
        The patient utters these words like they are poison, dripping
        off his lips. The psychiatrist is noticably perturbed.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Of course.. of course... let's work
                  from there... then, the premise, or
                  reality even of your being in-situ,
                  that it's not a dream or.... delusion.
        
                              PATIENT
                  That would be much more sensible.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  You wanted to discuss the keys?
        
                              PATIENT
                  I wanted to discuss how I "received
                  them".
        
                                PSYCHIATRIST
                  Received.
        
                              PATIENT
                  Yes... received.
        
        The patient reaches into his breast suit pocket and removes
        something, we can only see the ghostly white of his hands in
        the gloom, the hand reaches forward and places a BRASS KEY
        on the table, the clink of the heavy key breaks into the
        heavy atmosphere...
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Where did you acquire that key?
        
                              PATIENT
                  The same way I acquired each of the
                  five other keys. They just appeared.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Appeared, you mean, like the dagger
                  in Macbeth, perhaps?
        
                              PATIENT
                  You're not taking this seriously
                  enough, you should be taking it
                  seriously.
        
                                PSYCHIATRIST
                  Continue...
        
                              PATIENT
                  I found the keys...
        
                                PSYCHIATRIST
                  Found?
        
                              PATIENT
                  They appear in different places.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Where...exactly?
        
                              PATIENT
                  Exactly, precisely, you like precision
                  don't you, well... in an old drawer.
                  This particular key appeared in my
                  writing desk.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  An old key perhaps, you'd forgotten
                  where-
        
                              PATIENT
                  Always the same sketicism, disbelief,
                  it was not there the day before. Or
                  any of the days before that.
        
                               PSYCHIATRIST
                  You seem to see that as particularly
                  significant?
        
                              PATIENT
                  They knew I'd look there.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  They... who is 'they'?
        
                              PATIENT
                  Whatever the powers are behind all
                  of this.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  We'll come back to that. You said
                  you went into the houses. This is
                  new.
        
                              PATIENT
                  It's not new... I just held it back
                  in our first four or five sessions.
        
        Back in the dream... the house stands out, old gables, the
        middle of a wood, back from the road...
        
                              PATIENT V.O.
                  I always know how to find them.
        
        We are approaching the old house. Strikingly similar to the
        others, old, musty, centuries of families and secrets, keeping
        its secrets behind old yellowing curtains.
        
                                PSYCHIATRIST V.O.
                  The houses?
        
                              PATIENT V.O.
                  Yes... I just jump into my car and
                  drive... and when I get close... I
                  know... this is the house.
        
        Hand extending and the BRASS KEY smoothly slips into the
        lock. The door opens and years of musty air wheezes out,
        escaping into the sunlight.
        
        We walk into the house, along a creaking hallway, stuffed
        animals and old paintings on the oak walls, and then we see
        the DOOR.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST V.O.
                  How did you know which room to go
                  to?
        
                              PATIENT V.O.
                  I don't know, I can sense it, I am
                  being directed.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST V.O.
                  Directed?
        
        The psychiatrist's voice is nervous. The door begins to
        open...
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST V.O.
                  Where did they find them, just inside
                  the door?
        
                              PATIENT V.O.
                  Every single one was in the same
                  place.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST V.O.
                  Did this one have hands, they said,
                  in some of those reports, that they
                  had no hands?
        
                              PATIENT V.O.
                  You shouldn't believe everything you
                  read in newspapers.
        
        The door is open and on the floor we see-
        
        We're suddenly back in the gloom of the psychiatrist's office.
        The sash blows inwards and the patient is chuckling to
        himself.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  I never expected that.
        
                              PATIENT
                  You weren't listening properly during
                  our first sessions.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  There was nothing at all, no body...
                  not even any marks or scratches?
        
                              PATIENT
                  You sound so disappointed. Tell me,
                  do you speak to any of your fellow
                  practioners about this interest of
                  yours for morbid-
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  Let's not get too personal.
        
                              PATIENT
                  I bet...
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  And so what did you conclude?
        
                              PATIENT
                  I picked up an newspaper in a hallway,
                  close to where one of the bodies was
                  found.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  And what is the significance of that
                  detail.
        
                              PATIENT
                  To discredit your fantasy or what
                  would you call it... dream theory.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  I don't follow.
        
                              PATIENT
                  The newspaper had the date on of
                  course. It read Tuesday 5th, 1937.
        
        The breeze blows stronger, the sash rattles. Rain.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  What of it...
        
                              PATIENT
                  They didn't find the bodies until
                  one month later, they'd been murdered,
                  according to the autopsy at some
                  point in the last 48 hours, they had
                  not been moved... or deposited there.
        
                              PSYCHIATRIST
                  But you could have informed the police
                  afterwards, you may have-
        
                              PATIENT
                  I had been telephoning the police
                  for months, I was 'Anonymous' in
                  those lurid press reports... I'd
                  visited those houses many times
                  before, you see.
        
                               PSYCHIATRIST
                   You went back?
        
                               PATIENT
                   Many times... I couldn't sleep, I
                   was compelled to enter those houses.
                   Compelled. I found nothing, I never
                   understood.
        
                               PSYCHIATRIST
                   Until the press reports came out, it
                   would have been hard to miss those,
                   especially in this county, we don't
                   get events like that happen up here
                   very often.
        
                               PATIENT
                   The last time was in 1888 to be
                   precise, I've researched all serial
                   murders in this county.
        
        We sense the patient is smiling through the shadows.
        
                               PATIENT
                   And discovered that in 1887, an
                   anonymous caller plagued the police
                   for a whole year about the location
                   of five bodies, he said that they
                   would be found in the streams in the
                   county, he listed the locations on a
                   map he sent in with an X.
        
                               PSYCHIATRIST
                   That rings a bell with...
        
                               PATIENT
                   A dog walker found the bodies of
                   five women, stripped naked and under
                   the water, just 12 months later.
                   Nobody ever heard from the caller
                   again.
        
        (Continued in next post)

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: SCARE ME! entries

          Code:
          (Continued from previous post.)
          
          Silence.
          
                                 PATIENT
                     You're stunned because...
          
                                 PSYCHIATRIST
                     I know... okay, I get it at last...
                     you... you weren't even born.
          
          The curtain waves in the strong breeze, a heavy rain storm
          is breaking outside in the din.
          
                                  PATIENT
                      I'm beginning to visit several
                      deserted woodchip mills, high up in
                      the county, perhaps you'd like to
                      accompany me.
          
          A low and ominous roll of thunder, very distant.   The curtain
          waves.
          
          FADE OUT.
          
                                  THE END.

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: SCARE ME! entries

            Code:
            ADRENALINE
            
            INT. CAR - DAY
            
            ELLY, skinny little girl, she looks younger than her 12 years
            old. She has long straight hair and glasses that cover most
            of her face. She wears a sports tracksuit and trainers. She's
            absolutely focused on the science magazine she's reading.
            
            Her mom, MRS. WILDE (35) peeks at her through the rear
            mirror, intrigued by this passion for science. She has the
            same skinny features as her daughter.
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                      What are you reading, Elly?
            
                                ELLY
                      Mom, if there was an accident and I
                      was trapped under a car, what would
                      you do?
            
            Mrs. Wilde is surprised by the question, but she looks used
            to them.
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                      Well, I would lift the car with my
                      own hands and rescue you.
            
            Elly seems very satisfied by the answer.
            
                                ELLY
                      Uhm, very interesting.
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                      Because you are my special girl.
            
            Elly grins at her mother through the mirror.
            
                                ELLY
                      Am I?
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                          (a worried smile)
                      More than you think, sweety.
            
            Elly doesn't hear those words, because the back seat door
            opens and TOMMY (12), in his school uniform, sits next to
            Elly. He looks taller for his age and has a mop of hair that
            covers his eyes like a Shepherd dog. There's something off
            about him. Elly puts the magazine aside.
            
                                TOMMY
                      Hey Elly. Mrs. Wilde...
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                      Hi, Tommy. You don't attend the
                      athletics competition?
            
                                TOMMY
                      I'm not allowed.
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                      Oh.
            
            The sharp answer shuts Mrs. Wilde up, so she focuses on the
            road.
            
                                TOMMY
                      Are you ready?
            
                                ELLY
                      Yes! I'm going to crush Patricia.
            
                                TOMMY
                      You mean Patricia is going to crush
                      you. As always.
            
                                ELLY
                      Not this time. I have a secret
                      weapon.
            
                                TOMMY
                      What secret weapon?
            
                                ELLY
                      You.
            
                                TOMMY
                      Me??
            
                                ELLY
                      Remember what you told me the other
                      day?
            
                                TOMMY
                          (low voice)
                      Elly! That was a secret!
            
                                ELLY
                          (to Mrs. Wilde)
                      Mom, Tommy has a secret so scary
                      that he cannot tell anybody.
            
            Tommy goes white.
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                      Very good, sweety.
            
                                ELLY
                          (to Tommy)
                      See? Nobody cares.
            
            The car arrives to the school. Elly leans over her mom and
            pecks her on the cheek.
            
                                    ELLY
                      Bye,   mom.
            
                                MRS. WILDE
                      Go get them, Tiger.
            
            Elly takes her magazine and leaves, followed by Tommy, who is
            still annoyed by Elly's loose tongue.
            
            
            EXT. SCHOOL / SPORTS STADIUM   - DAY
            
            Elly and Tommy walk side by side. She shows him the magazine.
            
                                ELLY
                      You see? It's called adrenaline.
                          (she reads)
                      Adrenaline plays an important role
                      in the fight-or-flight response by
                      increasing blood flow to muscles,
                      output of the heart, pupil
                      dilation, and blood sugar.
            
                                TOMMY
                      I stopped listening after "plays".
            
                                ELLY
                      It means that when you are scared
                      or in danger, you turn into a
                      superhero or something.
            
            Elly bends down to double check her shoelaces.
            
                                TOMMY
                      You think that's why superheroes
                      can fly and be so strong?
                          (interesting)
                      Anyway, I don't see how I'm your
                      secret weapon.
            
                                 ELLY
                      We'll,   this is the plan--
            
                                PATRICIA (O.S.)
                      Elly, I'm surprised you even showed
                      up.
            
            Elly looks up to PATRICIA, a bull of a girl, much taller and
            stronger than any boy in her grade. She looks down at Elly,
            with scorn.
            
                                ELLY
                      We will see, Patricia. Maybe today
                      you'll have to eat those words
                      coming from your big mouth.
            
            Patricia is surprised by the answer, she's used to people
            fearing her. Tommy tries to be invisible.
            
                                ELLY
                      Anyway, may the best win.
            
            Elly stands up and shakes Patricia's hand. Patricia makes a
            face. She looks at her hand: it's full of mud from the
            ground. She grabs Elly by the shirt and rises her fist.
            
                                COACH (O.S.)
                      Patricia! You are next.
            
            Patricia stares at Elly. She puts her down on the ground. She
            doesn't need to say a world to feel the threat. She walks to
            a white line, grabs a heavy exercise ball and throws it to
            the other side of the field. She looks at Elly, defiant,
            punches the palm of her hand.
            
                                COACH (O.S.)
                      Impressive, Patricia. You may have
                      broken your own record again.
            
                                TOMMY
                      Are you crazy? This is gonna be
                      your end. And maybe mine.
            
                                ELLY
                      Not after I win this thing.
                                 TOMMY
                      But how?
            
                                COACH (O.S)
                      Elly, you are next!
            
            Elly and Tommy walk to the white line. She whispers in
            Tommy's ear, a bit too close for his comfort.
            
                                ELLY
                      Your super scary secret. I want you
                      to tell me. Scare me. For the
                      adrenaline. I will throw the ball
                      further than anyone.
            
            Tommy's face goes white.
            
                                TOMMY
                      You crazy? You don't know what you
                      are asking. This is no game.
            
                                ELLY
                      I'll do anything you want. I'll do
                      your homework for a week.
            
                                TOMMY
                      No, no, forget it, there's nothing
                      you can do--
            
                                ELLY
                      I'll show you my boobs.
            
            Tommy rises an eyebrow. What?
            
                                TOMMY
                      You don't have boobs.
            
                                ELLY
                      I'll go to the cinema with you! Any
                      film you want. Like a date? Come
                      on, scare me, please!
            
            Tommy thinks for a moment. That's actually something he would
            love to do.
            
                                TOMMY
                      Okay. I'll do it.
            
                                ELLY
                          (she glows)
                      Really?
            
                                TOMMY
                      Step back. Give me a second.
            
            Tommy turns around. Elly looks at Patricia, who snaps a stick
            in two. She swallows hard. Grabs the sports ball with
            difficulties.
            
            She looks at Tommy's back. Something is happening to him. His
            body contorts and he seems to grow a few inches. His bones
            seem to snap and crack. Elly's eyes grow wide.
            
            Tommy turns around. His face is full of hair, his teeth have
            turned into huge fangs, his fingers are now ended in sharp
            claws. The roar from his throat is inhuman.
            
            Elly screams to the top of her lungs. But then something
            happens to her.
            
            Her eyes turn yellow, her skin turns blue, her arms and legs
            fill with huge muscles and scales, she suddenly grows up to 9
            feet high, her elastic tracksuit stretching to its limits.
            
            She throws the ball outside the stadium, a tiny speck in the
            sky.
            
            Elly looks at her own huge hands. Tommy's jaw hits the
            ground. The students and the coach scream in panic and flee
            the place, Patricia at the helm, pushing students aside,
            terrified.
            
                                 ELLY
                      Awesome!
            
            Tommy looks at Elly, who towers over him, impressed and happy
            to find someone like him. They both look at the empty sport
            fields.
            
                                 TOMMY
                      I think they show Teen Wolf at the
                      Paramount.
            
                                ELLY
                      Yeah, sure. I like fantasy movies.
            
            Both monster-kids look at the empty stadium.
            
                                        THE END

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: SCARE ME! entries

              Code:
              JOHANNES MISERT
              
              EXT. BANK BUILDING -- DAY
              
              Blustery wind, swirling clouds. A hulking bank building,
              once the pride of the crumbling town, imposes its will on
              the empty street below it.
              
              At its base, ALLEN CRIMP, gaunt, 40s, overcoat flapping in
              the wind, glares at his wristwatch. He paces restlessly.
              
              He stares up at the stonework of the brick building.
              Gargoyles stare back at him. He squints as he re-reads the
              faded sign ...
              
              JOHANNES MISERT SECURITY BANK -- EST 1884
              
              An old pickup truck rounds the corner and parks in front
              of the bank. It diesels to a stop as FRED GIBBERT, 60s,
              rotund, exits and limps up to Allen.
              
                                  FRED
                        You must be Mr. Cripp --
              
                                    ALLEN
                        -- Crimp.
              
                                  FRED
                             (nervous laugh)
                        Couldn't read my own writing. I was
                        supposed to meet you --
              
                                  ALLEN
                        -- an hour ago.
              
                                  FRED
                        Yes. And, uh ...
              
                                  ALLEN
                        Can you just open the door, Mr ...
              
                                  FRED
                        Gibbert, Fred Gibbert.
                             (moving to door)
                        I used to handle the maintenance
                        here and --
              
                                  ALLEN
                        -- Yes, I'm aware of that.
              
              Fred has a large ring of keys, and is trying them one by
              one on the padlock that connects the chain across the door
              handles.
              
                                  FRED
                        I'm sure one of these fits ...
              
              A few more keys and then ...
              
                                  FRED
                        Ah, there it is.
              
              
              INT. BANK BUILDING -- CONTINUOUS
              
              The sun filters in through he shades. Inside, an eerie
              silence. Furniture still intact, under a thick layer of
              dust. The date on the teller's displays read "June 7,
              1979."
              
                                  FRED
                        They just chained her shut and sent
                        everyone --
              
                                    ALLEN
                        -- I'm behind schedule. Please
                        direct me to Johannes Misert's
                        office so I can get out of this ...
                        uh ... so I can go.
              
                                  FRED
                        His top floor office or his vault
                        office?
              
                                  ALLEN
                        Vault office?
              
                                  FRED
                        Down in the basement. That's where
                        he spent most of his time. He liked
                        it quiet -- people made him nervous.
                             (pause)
                        Or so I'm told.
              
              Allen pulls out a yellowed sheet of paper, squints down at
              the scribbling on it.
              
                                  ALLEN
                        My client gave me this safe
                        combination and --
              
                                  FRED
                        -- The combination to the vault? No
                        one has that.
              
              Fred gapes at the paper as if it's a snake.
              
                                  ALLEN
                        My client is Mr. Misert's grand
                        nephew and --
              
                                  FRED
                        -- Not sure I want to go down there
                        ...
                             (sighs)
                        Best get a flashlight.
              
              
              INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALL -- MINUTES LATER
              
              Oppressive darkness. The flashlight beam reveals peeling
              paint, shag carpet.
              
                                  FRED
                        They just closed down the basement
                        after the Disabilities Act. No way
                        to build an elevator to meet code.
                             (pause)
                        No one liked it down here anyhow.
              
              They come to a door at the end of the hall.
              
                                  FRED
                        The outer office. Hold the
                        flashlight while I try to find the
                        key.
              
              The door creaks open.
              
              Turn of the 19th century desk and file cabinets. A big
              overhead circular fan. Slots built into a wall beside a
              steel vault door.
              
                                   FRED
                        Mr. Misert used to have his
                        secretary drop off papers in this
                        slot, then he would drop it out of
                        that slot.
              
              Fred moves the light to the two slots.
              
                                  FRED
                        He would stay in there for days,
                        then weeks then ...
              
                                  ALLEN
                        Then?
              
                                  FRED
                        Well, finally, he just never did
                        come out. Or at least no one saw him
                        come out. That was back in 1923.
                             (pause)
                        That's how I heard it, anyhow.
              
              Allen moves towards the vault door. Fred holds back.
              
                                  FRED
                        Not sure I want to do this.
              
                                  ALLEN
                        I need the light.
              
              Fred slowly moves toward the door.
              
                                  FRED
                        Are you sure?
              
              Allen wipes the dust off the dial and whispers to himself
              as he reads the numbers.
              
              He yanks the handle and the mechanism clanks.
              
                                     FRED
                        Sh*t.
              
                                  ALLEN
                        Help me pull this open ...
              
              
              INT. VAULT OFFICE -- CONTINUOUS
              
              Piles of papers, neatly stacked. A desk in the back corner
              illuminated by a dim light bulb.
              
              A figure sitting behind the desk, in a loose-fitting,
              rotted suit. He's emaciated, with waxy skin pulled taught
              against the bones of his face. Skeletal fingers, with
              inches long, twisting fingernails.
              
              Fred gasps.
              
                                  FRED
                        Johannes Misert.
              
                                  ALLEN
                             (stepping back)
                        Aw sh*t ... sh*t!
              
              Fred examines Johannes.
              
                                  FRED
                        Like a mummy, he must have ...
              
              Johannes eyes pop open. He looks wildly around.
              
              Allen screams, Fred nearly faints.
              
                                     JOHANNES
                                (raspy whisper)
                        Who?
              
                                  FRED
                             (squeaky)
                        Fred. Fred Gibbert... Uh ... sir.
              
              Johannes tries to rise, his bones creaking, falls back in
              the chair.
              
                                  JOHANNES
                             (rasps)
                        Break it for me. For the love God,
                        please ... break it.
              
                                    FRED
                        Break it?
              
                                  JOHANNES
                             (a bony finger pointing at
                             the light bulb)
                        That damned Shelby Incandescent
                        Lamp. Kill it!
              
              Fred is confused.
              
                                  FRED
                             (burbling)
                        The light bulb?
              
                                  JOHANNES
                        That infernal Shelby Incandescent
                        Lamp. It NEVER dies! I vowed to
                        outlive it.
              
              Johannes, agitated, tries to rise again.
              
              He stares into the horrified eyes of Allen.
              
                                  JOHANNES
                        You, then! Do what this idiot can't!
              
              Allen screams, runs headlong into the wall, falls and then
              lies unconscious.
              
                                  JOHANNES
                             (ranting)
                        They told me it would outlive me. I
                        told them it would burn out in a
                        week. Candles are more reliable, I
                        don't care if it is 1902! I BET them
                        it wouldn't last. I NEVER lose a
                        bet.
                             (pause)
                        Even if I HAVE to cheat.
              
                                  FRED
                             (slowly getting there)
                        You want me to break ... the bulb?
              
                                  JOHANNES
                        Yes! For the love of God! Destroy
                        the lamp!
              
              Fred raises his flashlight, looks momentarily back at
              Johannes.
              
              Johannes leans forward eagerly.
              
                                  JOHANNES
                        Yes! Yes ... yes, please. Yes.
              
              Fred swings, tinkling glass, the lamp flickers, flashes
              out.
              
              Total darkness.
              
                                     JOHANNES (O.S.)
                        Thank you.
              
              The flashlight flicks back on.
              
              The skeleton of Johannes Misert lies crumpled over the
              desk.
              Last edited by dpaterso; 04-16-2017, 11:16 PM.

              Comment


              • #8
                Re: SCARE ME! entries

                Code:
                "SWAMPLAND"
                
                BLACK SCREEN
                
                Suck, squelch, glug, hiss.
                
                Welcome to...
                
                SWAMPLAND
                
                Camera, shaking ever so slightly, being carried over the
                effusions of hissing steam and loud marsh life.
                
                Suddenly we're running towards our destination, somebody
                else keeps bobbing into view, a girl's back, her legs jumping
                side to side to avoid the stinking black mud, running with
                us...
                
                EXT. THE OLD EAST COMPANY CARGO SHIP - MOMENTS LATER
                
                Coming into view over a small ridge of swamp-land.
                
                An old rusted-out cargo hulk, thousand tons of iron, stranded
                in the middle of this delta.
                
                By the terracing of mud on the banks, we gather the river
                came this far up a long long time ago. The ship is stranded
                like an iron ghost, deeply embedded into the ooze and green
                slime.
                
                                        VOICE
                            Ha ha ha... run..run... faster! That's
                            what I mean, go girl.
                
                A quick pan down to our boots, green slime coats them.
                
                                        CAMERA GUY
                            C'mon, head out in front of me, Beth.
                
                The girl appears again, momentarily.
                
                                        CAMERA GUY
                            I want to shoot you from behind,
                            build the excitement of being actually
                            part of something...
                
                Beth appears and stares back, not amused, dressed in black
                boots, camo trousers, a bomber jacket. Blood red lipstick
                and beautiful coal black eyes stare with intense hostility.
                
                                        BETH
                            You're kidding me right, F*cko?
                
                Out in front a series of wooden planks, neat, purposeful,
                linked up much like a daisy chain, a way through the swamp,
                leading like bread crumbs up to the very edge of the old
                iron ghost.
                
                                       CAMERA GUY
                           The viewer needs to be kept on edge,
                           what am I seeing, where is this going?
                
                                       BETH
                           Come to think of it, why did you
                           bring me out here?
                
                Beth in front, deftly hopping from toe to toe over the
                flotilla, as they get closer, the ship looms, MASSIVE now,
                and just ahead. A thin grey mist veils its upper reaches.
                
                                       CAMERA GUY
                           Use your hands when you slip, to
                           scramble out over the mud.
                
                                       BETH
                           I dont know how you persuaded me to
                           do this, you were such a dork in
                           school.
                
                They reach the guard rail.
                
                                       CAMERA GUY
                           You came after I offered you some
                           cold hard cash Beth. Remember?
                
                                       BETH
                           Yeah, and you better pay me all $150
                           dollars of it dorko...
                
                Camera guy chuckles. The camera follows Beth as she arrives
                at the edge of the green-slimed walls of the ship, she quickly
                begins to climb a rusty iron stairwell.
                
                EXT.   CARGO SHIP - MAIN DECK
                
                A more settled image, Beth has caught her breath, and leans
                against the rusted guard rail, if she had a scarf it would
                be flowing out on the wind, like a 1920s aviator.
                
                                       CAMERA GUY
                           Okay... this is the "interview" part.
                
                Beth sighs.
                
                                       BETH
                           Hi, I'm Beth, I'm here to help my
                           stupid friend film a stupid
                           documentary about some old cargo
                           hulk.
                
                                       CAMERA GUY
                          Now tell them about the haunted aspect
                          to the ship... and without the stupid
                          part please.
                
                Beth stares into the camera.
                
                                      BETH
                          This ship [she opens her arms palms
                          facing up] was used to transport
                          munitions during the Korean W-
                
                CLANK, sound from below deck.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Whoa, yeah, what's that folks, we
                          need to go down below deck and
                          immediately investigate.
                
                                      BETH
                          No way.
                
                Moments later... open bulkhead door, greasy red rust frames
                the door as camera follows Beth down some steps into the
                gloom.
                
                INT. BELOW DECKS - SOMEWHERE
                
                Camera light pans over the corridor, oily walls, water drips,
                we see into side rooms, dark, turned-over berths, a mirror
                reflects back an eerie warped-face version of Beth.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Keep going Beth... great footage
                          girl.
                
                Beth is moving quickly, we reach the end of this deck and
                descend a spiral staircase, rattle of shoe on metal and old
                wet carpets.
                
                INT. THREE SUB LEVELS BELOW MAIN DECK
                
                OPENS on an old mess hall, tables sprawled and turned over
                just about everywhere. The camara lens pans around, lighting
                up the tables, old candlesticks, dirty tableware...
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Must have been the officer's mess.
                
                                      BETH
                          Yeah, but why is all the silverware
                          left behind, somebody usually steals
                          that... don't they?
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Told you Beth, it's haunted, nobody
                          but us has ever been down here.
                
                The camera lights up paintings, previous voyages, naval
                life... steam ships, exotic lands, natives loading up exotic
                produce, animals being loaded into crates, in the Far East.
                
                                      BETH
                          Let's get the heck out of here, it's
                          creepy, which way did we come in?
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          I don't know, but we're doing great,
                          getting some great footage, this
                          will look just crazy when I edit it.
                
                INT. CORRIDOR - SOMEWHERE IN THE BOWELS OF THE SHIP
                
                Beth leads, touches the slimy wet walls, she seems nervous,
                worried, beginning to feel penned in.
                
                                      BETH
                          I want out now, okay, let's go back
                          up on deck.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          We're in a swamp, it must leak through
                          into the ship.
                
                                      BETH
                          Yeah, well I don't like it, let's
                          just head back up into the light.
                
                Noise of GLOOP as slime drips from the ceiling, catches Beth
                on her shirt. She screams and jumps backward.
                
                                      BETH
                          Yuck.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Ha ha, he slimed you huh?
                
                                      BETH
                          Very funny... I'm really getting
                          pissed off, let's just go.
                
                They turn left, at the end of the corridor is a huge puddle
                of green and brown slime, it appears to be pulsating, they
                stand in horror, watching, the camera light pans up and the
                walls are coated slime.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          I guess that way forward is out?
                
                Moving back along corridor, slime is forming up on the
                ceiling, running along in rivulets, each time it separates a
                gulping sound, or GLOOP noise, echoes around as it slobbers
                down onto the corridor floor like spit from a dog's salivating
                mouth.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Keep going... there must be a way
                          out down there. Try that door.
                
                                      BETH
                          It's locked, it wasn't locked when
                          we came in?
                
                Beth pulls her hand back, she regards the sticky slime as it
                rolls around over her fingertips, she attempts to flick it
                off.
                
                                      BETH
                          This slime's not the same as the
                          stuff out of the swamp.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          What like you think it's some crazy
                          slime stuff that perhaps lives?
                
                                      BETH
                          Yeah, it's so sticky and clinging,
                          and it seems to have a life of its
                          own!
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Beth... I think the darkness and
                          noises down here are beginning to
                          get to you Beth.
                
                                      BETH
                          Can we just get out of here.
                
                They approach a doorway, Beth pushes it open and peers
                through, she wades ahead.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Watch what you are doing there, wait
                          for the camera light?
                
                Beth SCREAMS.
                
                Camera guys moves in, focuses the light down and we see Beth
                up to her waist in slime, as she attempts to rotate inside
                the embrace the sounds of sucking, squelching, burping...
                intensify.
                
                                      BETH
                          GET- ME- THE- F*CK- OUT- OF- THIS -
                          STUFF.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          I'm coming down now Beth, hold on.
                
                                      BETH
                          Put that stupid camera down and help
                          me!
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Just keep looking up at me, that's
                          great, really cool, you know....
                          that's a great shot we have right
                          there.
                
                                      BETH
                          Why aren't you helping me, you dick,
                          put the f*cking camera down?
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Fight it Beth, just keep moving like
                          that... no... keep looking up at me.
                
                Beth is now covered in the slime, in her hair, dripping down
                her t-shirt, she's slipped her bomber jacket off, she looks
                around in distress and total horror.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          That's it, move to the left, try and
                          wade forward.
                
                Beth's voice   is raspy, she's fading. A whisper...
                
                                      BETH
                          Why...are... you... still... filming?
                
                Beth stares up, her eyes seem to understand something, before
                she attempts to wade once more, her arms heavy now with
                slime... she suddenly slips and disappears under the green
                goo.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Phew... just wow... that was intense.
                
                POV of camera as it sprints down a narrow dark corridor, the
                beams of the light flashing all over the ceiling, heavy
                breathing, the sounds all around crowd in, suck, squelch,
                drain and water flushing sounds, bubbles, pops and belches,
                intensifying.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Got to go left, it was left last
                          time wasn't it? wait, no... go right.
                
                Camera haults at an half-open door, tentatively, the camera
                moves forward, the door is pushed aside, the camera pokes
                into the darkness.
                
                Ahead is a pulsating pumping pit of slime, a green brown
                soup all of its own, as CAMERA GUY enters, it seems to
                intensify and acknowledge him, the sounds of gulping, burping,
                glugs, water rushing through plumbing...
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          I came back... I said I would.
                
                The camera pans down, on the floor, is a bracelet, the camera
                moves in, it's a girls silver bracelet, close by is another
                girl's watch, and finally a gym pump.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          You don't like those parts huh, hard
                          to digest?
                
                The bubbles and gurgles intensify, the camera guy pulls back
                and films, he looks down, slime is beginning to lap over his
                his black boots.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          I bought you another one, I said I
                          would, isn't that enough?
                
                Bursts of slime erupt, like lava from a volcano pit,
                splattering over the lens and over the sides of the tank
                itself.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Arrrrgggghhhhhh.
                
                We're off and running, turning corners, ducking into doorways,
                in the darkness, confusion, suddenly at the end of a corridor
                there is a shaft of light, where the deck has rusted through,
                must be close to the top deck now?
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Which was it... door or stairwell?
                
                The Camera moves towards the door and inching around we see
                a huge foaming carpet of slime, pulsating over the entire
                floorway.
                
                                      CAMERA GUY
                          Arrrghhhhh.... clever, you're getting
                          much smarter, I'm more clever though,
                          go up, go up, go up.
                
                Camera ascends the steps, jarring shots, when... CRACK...
                the steps tumble away beneath, splintered iron, more
                
                confusion, and the camera spins coming to rest on the deck.
                Still running on...
                
                We see a teen, around seventeen, a hoody pulled up over a
                pale face full of acne and pain. He stares in horror at the
                camera, which continues to film him.
                
                Motioning towards us, trying to reach the camera... he only
                manages to knock the camera further away. The extra camera
                light switches on, a little red L.E.D. reflects off the floor
                in front of the camera, the rest is intensely lit deck,
                ceilings.
                
                The teen begins to disappear into the disgusting farting
                liquid...his glasses, suddenly tilt sideways on his face,
                one lens cracks, as he disappears into the slime they are
                left floating on the surface. A bony white fingers exits the
                effluence, slowly the fingers curl, giving us the finger,
                before disappearing with a belch-like-noise.
                
                                      ...SLOWLY... WE FADE OUT TOO.

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: SCARE ME! entries

                  Code:
                  ANDROID-VALENTINE
                  
                  Super:
                  
                  THE YEAR 2026, ANDROID RELATIONS WITH HUMANS HAVE BEEN
                  FORBIDDEN BY GOVERNMENT DECREE...
                  
                  Thousands... reds and violet, white petals too... they circle
                  on the breeze.
                  
                  BROKEN-HEART GROVE
                  
                  Painted in blood red over whatever name sits beneath, looks
                  down upon two figures, nothing more than teenagers in black,
                  top to bottom with hoods pulled up, shades, the one pushes
                  something retro..a bmx bike...
                  
                  TEENAGERS
                  
                  KRISTIAN, aged 18, lumbers with his large black rucksack, he
                  shuffles to adjust the weight on his shoulders, DEAN, 17,
                  broad-shouldered, urban teens to the t, part of the dump-
                  generation, they spend a lot of time recycling.
                  
                                          DEAN
                              What about the mob-scroungers?
                  
                                          KRISTIAN
                              We're safe, keep walkin', we're nearly
                              there.
                  
                  Kristian acknowledges his surroundings, familiar.
                  
                  The sky is dark, snowflakes begin to fall.
                  
                  BROKEN-HEARTS GROVE
                  
                  From the top of the hill, we see the teenagers appear.
                  Trudging ever upwards.
                  
                                          DEAN
                              What's with all of the discarded
                              roses?
                  
                                          KRISTIAN
                              They're filed here by the broken-
                              hearted, weird and morbid tradition
                              if you ask me.
                  
                                          DEAN
                              Nobody couples anymore, no need,
                              women have all the best jobs, what
                              jobs there are, you can have a baby
                              by going to the local In-FERT unit.
                  
                  Kristian watches the petals circle, each time the wind blows
                  they russle and sometimes blow up into a vortex. He slips
                  off his rucksack.
                  
                  Dean stares at it, suspicion rests on his eyes.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            And then there's the robots, we have
                            a bot for everything, our Avenue has
                            38 of them, there's only 20 families.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Hmmmm.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Did I tell you, Alice and I broke
                            up.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            You're kidding, when did that happen?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Last week, she said I had no ambition,
                            and was spending too much time
                            building Old-Tech out of discarded
                            CPUs and bits n pieces I found out
                            at the cities Mega-Dumps.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Every self-respecting teen hunts on
                            the Mega-Dumps.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Well, she doesn't see us together,
                            she's only 17 but planning for a
                            career in Psyche-Control already,
                            says it's the future.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            You know, she always did come over
                            as a bit manipulative. What are you
                            gonna do now?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            I've started dating Mindy.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Mindy who? You don't know any Mindy's
                            unless you mean-
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            SEX-BOT- MINDY, dad ordered her online
                            from Amazonia3 after his divorce,
                            they sent a romantic-model over by
                            mistake... kind of persuaded him to
                            keep her around.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            You sure that was a mistake... my
                            old man was always ordering SEX-BOTS
                            by "mistake". Mum left soon
                            afterwards. Parents.
                  
                  We survey the city from up high... twinkling lights, way
                  below us, at around 278 feet, the standard, we see the
                  delivery drones, hovering like flies Dean watches as a huge
                  drone drops an ELECTRO-SOLAR car down gently onto a skid-
                  way.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            District 5 sure got a lot of drones
                            delivering today. Hmm, the Elites,
                            they shop-to-drop, look over to the
                            ghetto in D2 and you don't see no
                            drones there, they'd probably shoot
                            'em down.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            You know that SEX-BOTS become illegals
                            if they transgress by entering a
                            relationship with a human?
                  
                  Kristian turns around and spits.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Sure... the government then blames
                            it on every bot in the
                            neighbourhood... they all get
                            recalled.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            You mean melted down, shredded, go
                            on to meet the big metal man in the
                            sky.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Something like that.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Government's paranoid as hell at
                            bots taking over.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            They outnumber us 10-1.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Jeeeez... so you found love.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Kind of... whoever knows for sure.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Is that why we're here, are we meeting
                            her or something?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Later, but we've got something else
                            to take care of first?
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Take care of...
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            The other bots in the neighbourhood
                            found out, they're coming here in
                            protest to try and silence us.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            WHAT!!!! we're actually here for a
                            pre-arranged BOT-FIGHT!
                  
                  Kristian swivels on his heel to survey the approach road.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Goddamn it Kristian, how many ?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Erm... three were agreed, likely to
                            be maybe... four or even five?
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Maybe five? that's three more than
                            oir fragile two, you've set up a
                            fight with five bots?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            We'll be okay, I've prepared well. .
                  
                  An ominoius whirring, the bot equivalent of tank tracks and
                  wheels on cracked black top.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            That'll be them I guess.
                  
                  Kristian unfolds his bag and begins to remove what look like
                  silver discs.
                  
                  Over the crest the bots appear and fan out... :
                  
                  FOAM-BOT [used primarily for washing cars, hosing down
                  roadsurfaces, carries its own huge sud-tank on its back]
                  
                  FLOORSCRUB-2, [a model of domestic bot for cleaning and
                  polishing floors]
                  
                  KITCHEN-BOT, [lethal, utensils, attachments, egg-whisk as
                  optional]
                  
                  PORTER-BOT [genteel, slow-mover, useful for bumping
                  operations, heavy]
                  
                  GARDEN-BOT [dangerous, attachments: forks, spade, spinning
                  dibber... weedkiller spray nosel]
                  
                  Kristian practices with the discus-like objects, taking a
                  run and swinging like an Olympian athlete back in Ancient
                  Greece.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Keep these between us nad them.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            What do they do?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            MAGNET-BOMBS... throw 'em at the
                            bot, if they stick they rip out the
                            magnetic field and internal S-Forces,
                            eventually it destroys their CPU.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Won't they try to get to them and
                            neutralise if you leave them in a
                            pile like that?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            No way... they're scared stiff of
                            them, if they get too close, the
                            magnetism kicks in, Bot-Kryptonite.
                  
                  The bots are closing in, they are murmuring instructions to
                  one another...
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Let's smash these son's of bitches.
                            Yeeeeeee-haaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
                  
                                        DEAN
                            You're crazy today, enjoying this
                            way too much Kristian!
                  
                  FOAM-BOT'S spray-arm whirs into action, pointing directly
                  upwards, it begins to release the foam like a geyser.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Watch out for that pesky FOAM-BOT,
                            he'll lather you to death at this
                            range.
                  
                  Suddenly FOAM-BOT spins his arm down and fires... Dean is
                  too slow, he's become a sud-monster, tip to toe.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            What did I say.... stay frosty.
                  
                  Dean wearing a foam hat and looking like a snowman, wipes
                  his eyes clear.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Tastes like pineapples and lemonade.
                  
                  Kristian sighs. Suddenly the other bots are on the move,
                  whirring, coming in at full speed. Kristian grabs a Magnet-
                  Bomb hurls it underarm like a professional, it spins sideways,
                  GARDEN-BOT whirls out the way and the magment bomb fastens
                  onto FOAM-BOT, sparks fly off and FOAM-BOT careers out of
                  control, circuits fried, he slams into PORTER-BOT, more
                  sparks, huge flame, a great whooooosh of spray jets up into
                  the air, it begins to rain foam.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            That was a lucky strike, that won't
                            happen again. Get ready, Dean, stop
                            lickin' and get stuck in.
                  
                  Dean jumps into an action pose, like a Sparten spear-carrier
                  he extends the cattle prod, GARDEN-BOT locks onto him, the
                  Spade is being wielded back and forth at him, and in the
                  other arm, a fork spins.
                  
                  GARDEN-BOT whizzes towards Dean and Dean pegs it immediately
                  towards a ditch and jumps straight in, GARDEN-BOT follows
                  and just at the edge of the pit, tips, disappears, we begin
                  to see clumps of grass and mud fly up into the air from just
                  out of view.
                  
                  FLOORSCRUB-2 and KITCHEN-BOT have Kristian buttressed in,
                  over their metal-shoulders, he can see the pile of Magnet-
                  Bombs, behind him is a steep incline which rolls hundreds of
                  feet down into the old dump where other bots lie mangled and
                  derelict. Wires sprout up, a metal hand extends out of the
                  wreckage and mud-wreckage, clasping at the air, as though
                  for something hidden...
                  
                  Dean seems done for, Kristian wonders what could be happening
                  to him in the ditch, more mud, junk, bit of circuits,
                  discarded bunches of roses fly up in the air.
                                                                           7.
                  
                  KITCHEN-BOT advances, egg-whisk spinning and a rotating
                  kitchen knife, Kristian inches back towards the edge,
                  FLOORSCRUB-2, making groaning noises, as if in expectation,
                  has his polisher spinning, but can do nothing but block
                  Kristian in.
                  
                  Suddenly, there's a spray of sparks, Kristian looks beyond,
                  the BOTS, to see:
                  
                  MINDY-BOT, a working-model sexbot, plastic-skin, she's
                  spinning Magnet-Bombs towards KITCHEN-BOT and FLOORSCRUB-
                  2... Mindy is superior, she's more than metal endoskeleton,
                  taking down their circuits with a crash and flash of sparks,
                  FLOORSCRUB-2 is spinning out of control, he shudders violently
                  to the extreme right of screen, away from Kristian and KITCHEN-
                  BOT, then spins around and accelerating crashes violently
                  into KITCHEN-BOT, unleashing smoke and flames.
                  
                  Both bots fall silent, the black acrid becomes a white wisp
                  of smoldering smoke.
                  
                                           KRISTIAN
                            You made it?
                  
                                        MINDY
                            Of course I made it honey-bee.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Well that takes care of them.
                  
                                        MINDY
                            Yeah, we'd better roll them over the
                            side in case their owners come
                            lookin'.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Later... let's check out Dean's okay,
                            quick.
                  
                  A few pieces of grass and mud, a piece of the iron leg of a
                  bedboard, are still flying up out of the ditch. As Mindy and
                  Kristian appear at the side, to look down. They see Dean,
                  he's pulling things up and throwing them over the side
                  himself.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            I've seen a fake fight before but-.
                  
                                         DEAN
                            It's been a tough fight. I was venting
                            frustration.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            What really happened huh?
                  
                  Dean sighs, seems ashamed.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Well, GARDEN-BOT, he just tipped
                            over the side, his circuits blew-out
                            as soon as he hit the bottom of the
                            ditch, over there, he never even got
                            near me I guess.
                  
                  We see GARDEN-BOT, a hunk of twisted metal.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Wait, Kristian, watch out... behind
                            you, is that the sexbot you once
                            dumped. She's going to clobber you
                            dude!
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Oh, Mindy, meet Dean, he's got an
                            overexcited imagination. Dean...
                            Mindy, my girlfriend, she's not a
                            sexbot anymore, mum and dad are giving
                            her some tasks about the house.
                  
                                        MINDY
                            Hi Dean, would you like a hand out
                            of that hole sweetpie.
                  
                  Dean appears perplexed. He stands up and dusts himself off
                  and begins to climb up.
                  
                  WALKING DOWN THE HILL
                  
                  Mindy keeps jumping around, back and forth, teasing Kristian,
                  Dean still seems perplexed.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Yeah, so when I started to date Mindy,
                            the other bots in the road got
                            jealous, she was getting special
                            treatment.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Those bots belonged to your
                            neighbours.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Sure. FLOORSCRUB-2 was ours but we
                            sold him to Mr Oakwood, at No 5,
                            GARDEN-BOT belongs to Mrs Mayflower,
                            she owns the cafe on the corner,
                            sometimes he doubled up as our
                            gardener.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            What about the others?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            Oh I don't know... they probably
                            worked nearby somewhere, but FOAMBOT
                            was at the car wash on 6th. Ernie's,
                            gonna be real pissed when he realises
                            he's gone missing.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Well, he's gone RMIA, now.
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            What's that mean again?
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Robot-Missing-in-Action.
                  
                  Kristian rolls his eyes.
                  
                                        MINDY
                            Dean... do you have a girl-bot?
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Not really... well, there was Tracey
                            Stanwicke for a while.
                  
                                        MINDY
                            Was she real cute sweetpie...
                  
                                        DEAN
                            No, she was... what do you bots call
                            it.... three packs short of a full
                            CPU-spread.
                  
                                        MINDY
                            Twenty bits short of a full packet-
                            switch. Tee-hee-hee.
                  
                                        DEAN
                            She's cute... but Kristian... are
                            you sure man?
                  
                                        KRISTIAN
                            About what dude?
                  
                                        DEAN
                            Dating.... a real sexbot.
                  
                  (Continued in next post)

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Re: SCARE ME! entries

                    Code:
                    (Continued from previous post)
                    
                                          KRISTIAN
                              Yeah, of course, anyhow, nothing
                              lasts forever.
                    
                                          MINDY
                              I do.
                    
                                          KRISTIAN
                              Well, you know, but we live for the
                              moment.
                    
                    a car approaches... as it levels with the guys the window
                    slides down, a guy with a pencil moustache leans out, dressed
                    in retro-1930s clothing, the car is a retro-solar Model T-
                    too, all the fashion.
                    
                                          DRIVER
                              Hey guys... know where the Grove is
                              ha ha.
                    
                                          KRISTIAN
                              Sure... it's just up this hill.
                    
                    Dean notices a girl in the passenger seat, she seems really
                    cute, smiles seductively over at him.
                    
                                          DEAN
                              You know what... don't do it, life's
                              too short.
                    
                                          DRIVER
                              What's that bud?
                    
                                          DEAN
                              Stick with that girl, she's too good
                              to let go. Whatever it is, you can
                              work it out, besides, it was
                              Valentine's yesterday, keep the roses,
                              don't go up that hill and throw them-
                    
                                          DRIVER
                              Oh no, you don't get it, my girl's,
                              well, a bot, we're just looking for
                              a few spare parts, CPU-plugs...the
                              old city dump's a great place to
                              find 'em. Take care.
                    
                    Kristian has carried on walking, Dean stands in the road by
                    himself, watching the car go, he takes a look at the sky,
                    dark and orange in places, industrial smog in the ditance,
                    by the BOT-FACTORIES, the snow is falling again and it brings
                    a calm and silence, he switches his gaze to Mindy and Kristian
                    who are holding hands.
                    
                                          DEAN
                              Guys.. wait... I have an idea!
                    
                                                                       FADE OUT:

                    Comment

                    Working...
                    X