Halloween 5-pg (Edited for title change) Attack of the Flies

     INT. HOUSE - NIGHT

            Cozy, and a little dark, especially here in the front room. 
            A Lawrence Welk music book sits on the piano.  

            Two big BOWLS OF CANDY sit on a table near the door.

            Most of the light comes a TV blaring commercials for...

            An Old Man on a recliner.  This is GRANDPA VICTOR LOHAN.  He
            has wrinkled, tattooed arms.  Grandpa looks like a “hard-ass”
            for life until he smiles, LAUGHS - heartily.      

            DING DONG.

            INT. BASEMENT

            Huge, nice, mahogany paneled and mostly carpeted.  A HAMMS
            BEER LIT DISPLAY glows above the bar. 

            A TOY TRAIN SET MOTOR HUMS.  

            Off center, toward an inner wall where the carpeting ends and
            a DOOR blends in with the wall, stands

            Dein, a boy of twelve, possesses a naturally pissed-off look
            and deep-set eyes.  He watches a mint condition Lionel train
            set travel around a sweetly crafted mini-Happy village.  

            Next to him is a WOODEN TOY BOX.  Dein pulls out a dirty old
            naked BARBIE-TYPE DOLL.

                                DEIN
                          (in a girlish voice)
                      Can I ride on Grandpa’s death express?

            Dein lights her hair on fire with an OLD-FASHIONED LIGHTER
            and puts her in the train TRAIN SET.

            Barbie makes it one loop around the village and falls.  

            Dein puts a G.I. Joe doll on the train.

                                DEIN
                      Dude, me too, and set me on fire.

            Dein flicks the lighter - nothing.  Flicks again, nothing.

                                DEIN
                      Lighter fluid. 

            Dein looks around. He grabs a SCREWDRIVER from the bar
            counter.

            Dein PRIES at the knob’s lock.  CLICK.  The knob TURNS.  

            Dein opens the door, the weather-stripping SCRATCHES over the
            floor.   He turns on a light switch lighting...

            A fix-it man’s dream closet.  A BUG ZAPPER and Fly strips
            hang from the ceiling.  Flies BUZZ about even so.  

            Dein looks around the shelves.  No sign of lighter fluid.  

                                DEIN
                      What’s with the flies?

            Dein crouches to see...

            A FLY slithers under the bottom of a section of paneling

            KEYS HANG FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE BENCH.

            Dein climbs on the bench and checks out the panel.  WHACK!  

            Dein nearly falls, then catches himself.  He looks back.

            It’s A LEVEL - fallen from the bench.

            Back to the panel.  He pushes.  It move... ever so slightly.     

            Dein moves the panel more.  It slides to the left.  Revealing

            A RED DOOR with a gold doorknob.    

            Curious Dein turns at the knob.  Locked.  Ah, but...

            Dein crouches by the work bench and grabs a handful of KEYS.

            Dein tries key after key.  CLICK, it opens...

            Darkness.

            CLICK - lights on a room very much like a McDonald’s
            playground except that...

            Mannequins, five in all, the size of kids wear bloodstained
            Halloween costumes.  Each “mannequin’s” head is covered with
            a similar black hood.  And these mannequins have been placed:
            sitting at a table or finishing a slide. 

            More fly strips and a BOX OF AIR FRESHENERS sits in the
            corner.

            Upon closer inspection, the mannequins are decomposed bodies.
            CUT OUT NEWSPAPER PICTURES, one for each “mannequin”, have
            been pinned to each mannequin.  

            One has a black & white picture, of a YOUNG BOY with slicked
            over hair - straight from the 1960’s.   

            Fear strikes Dein like a cold sweat.  

            Dein’s fear turns to sickness.  This is beyond messed up and
            he shouldn’t be here.

            In this silence, A SLIGHT DING DONG reverbs.

            INT. FRONT ROOM, HOUSE - NIGHT

            Grandpa stares and smiles at TWO LITTLE KIDS dressed as sailors, to whom he’s
            just given candy.  He sucks on a mint.  Sucks hard.

                                KID A
                      Thank you.

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      Come back, come back next year.

            The kids leave.  Grandpa Victor closes the door.

            Grandpa Victor heads back over to a door and opens it.  

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      Dein!  The show’s about to start.

            With no response, Grandpa Victor heads down the stairs.

            BUM. BUM.

            INT. BASEMENT

            Dein panics as he closes the Red Door.  He falls over the
            bench.  

            BUM. BUM.

            Dein hyperventilates, gets up and straightens the area. 

            BUM. BUM.

            Dein turns the light off on the fix-it closet.

            BUM.

                                GRANDPA VICTOR’S VOICE
                      Dein, what in the “h-e double hockey
                      sticks" is going on?  Your show’s on.

            Dein exits the closet and shuts the door - but he doesn’t
            have time to check it.  He picks up the screwdriver and slips
            it in his pocket.  

            BUM.

            Grandpa Victor stands.  His breathing - vexatious.

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      Come on, upstairs.  We’ll open a bag of
                      chips.  You want some soda?

            Dein nods.

            FLIES enter the room.  Many flies.  

            One lands on Dein’s forehead.  Dein lets out an involuntary
            whimper and brushes it away.  His eyes show so much fear that
            there could only be one reason -- behind him.  

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      Lock the door.

            Dein looks behind him and nods.

                                DEIN
                      Mom should be home soon.  I - don’t feel
                      well.

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      Grandpa loves you, Dein.  Tell me what’s
                      wrong.  What were you looking for?   

            Dein stares.  He can’t take it any longer...

                                DEIN
                      Lighter fluid.  I have to go.

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      Where?
                          (with a smile in his voice)
                      Come on.  We can talk about whatever you
                      want to talk about.  We’ll make some tea.

            Dein nods -- still very scared.

            Grandpa Victor heads upstairs.  

            Dein looks around for an exit - a window.  Nothing but
            paneling.  He takes a big deep breath and heads upstairs.  

            UPSTAIRS

            Dark.  Dein darts for the Front Room where

            Grandpa stands with the remote.

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      What did you see Dein?

            Dein continues toward the front door, avoiding eye contact.  

            Dein tries the front door, but - nothing.  

                                GRANDPA VICTOR (CONT’D)
                      Your Grandpa loves you.  Even when you
                      were little - remember - me taking you
                      and your sister to the public pool?          

             He works the locks on the doors.  One unlocks.

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      This is our secret, Dein...?  

            Dein nods.  Another unlocks.  Grandpa gets closer.

            Dein unlocks the final lock, but turns back.  

                                DEIN
                      When did Grandma die?  

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      Long before you were born.

            Grandpa closes in - the look of a paternal love in his eyes.

            Dein lets his only get close, and then whips out a
            screwdriver and stabs with all his might.  And it lands...

            In Grandpa’s neck.  It knocks him back - very surprised.  

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                      You hurt me?

            Dein’s out the door.

            EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT

            Dein runs.  His breath dances in the cold night air.   

            WHAM!  It’s Grandpa pushing him down into a coating of snow.  

            Grandpa hugs Dein - tighter and tighter.  

                                GRANDPA VICTOR
                          (repeating)
                      Why did you go in there?

            Dein’s air fades, but his hand moves and he pushes on
            Grandpa’s face.  

            HEADLIGHTS illuminate these two.

            Dein looks over and waves...

            A CAR DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES.

                                MAN’S VOICE
                      Hey.

[c

The original title Flies - just kind of sucked too much.

Easy-to-read style, liked the setup and the effective build up, with the creepy kid finding even more creepiness where he least expected it. (There's slight confusion between Dein and Dean, which I had to assume were the same person.) Random thought, having the sailor kids pause at the bottom of the driveway and discuss whether or not to approach the house, and then deciding not to (after the stories they heard, warnings they received, etc.) and Grandpa watching them, silently begging them to come to the door, might add something? Or not, shrug. The sample certainly stops at a very irritating place.

-Derek

Derek,

Holy crap. What a subconscious thing Dein was always supposed to be Dein and the spelling Dean slipped in (fixed.) At least it didn't derail you...?

Thanks for the notes.

The ending went down to the wire as far as pages - Final Draft pages. So I thought - well for now I'll leave it as is.

BTW if anyone does their research, they will know that Attack of the Flies was borrowed directly from a little known and un-aired episode of Sanford and Son directed by a young Wes Craven. As the episode went, Fred had more than junk in his basement. Wes was promptly fired after execs viewed the taping. Unfortunately, for Redd Foxx, he always said it was "My finest work."