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Old 10-04-2009, 11:56 AM
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HDCween: A Samhain Story - by Ferretchucker

Opening credits roll. Fade to an aerial shot of a small town, surrounded by woodland. A caption says "October 31st 2009" The camera zooms to a shot of a high school with the sign "Herrerville High". The bell rings and students begin to exit the school. One young student wearing a beanie cap with medium brown hair walks over to a small moped. It is Ferretchucker. As he does, a much taller student wearing fingerless gloves shoulder barges him. This is Massacre Man.

Massacre Man: Dork.

Ferretchucker: [under breath] Douchebag...

The older student stops and turns around. Ferretchucker's eyes suddenly go wide.

Massacre Man: Hey prick, what did you say?

Ferretchucker: Nothing Mass...I, erm...

Massacre Man: Jesus...grow some fuckin' balls. You're lucky I'm in a good mood, with it bein' Halloween and all.

He looks at the moped and spits on the seat, a small amount of flem pools.

Massacre Man: Your bike's almost as pathetic as you.

He salutes, laughs to himself and walks away, shaking his head. Ferretchucker grimaces and then sticks his tongue out. Massacre Man doesn't see. Ferretchucker wipes the spit away with his sleeves and sits down. He puts on an old, pink helmet. Another student laughs at him.

Ferretchucker: It's my sister's! I didn't see the need to buy a new one. Financially it would have been a waste, and I'm not like you lot where my fashion sense is the pinnacle of my social life!

They shake their heads and walk away. He sighs, then starts it up. Fade to Ferretchucker riding along a small road through the woods. He sneezes, and it all flies back in his face. Just as he gags a fly goes into his teeth. He sneezes again. Up ahead is an old homeless man wearing a tattered grey coat. He has a small cardboard sign attached to his back. "Need Medicul Help eRgently." Ferretchucker slows down and gets off his bike.

Ferretchucker: Hey mister! Do you want a ride to the hospital?

The man turns around. The whites of his eyes are a deep purple and his skin is a white as paper. He hobbles towards Ferretchucker and lips his lips slightly.

Ferretchucker: My word! What happened to you?

The man coughs. The sound is both a deep rumble and a rodent like squeek. Ferretchucker takes a step back, suddenly very worried.

Ferretchucker: I'm sorry...I don't think I can...

The man leans forward, so as to almost fall at Ferretchucker. The boy tries to move out of the way but it's to late. The homeless man bears down on him. Ferretchucker tries to struggle but the man's yellow teeth make contact with his teeth, clenching down. Ferretchucker screams as the man pulls away, tearing the flesh from his face. The homeless man chews the skin of his cheek.

Ferretchucker: JESUS!

He struggles and frees himself of the man's grip, standing up and kicking him in the face. The man grunts and grabs Ferretchucker's feet, pulling them and knocking the boy to the floor once more. The old man begins pummeling Ferretchucker, who puts his hands up in defense. The man grabs them and chews off two of his fingers. The boy screams and batters the mans face.

Ferretchucker manages to turn over and start to pull himself away. The homeless man bites into the back of Ferretchucker's neck, tearing away the flesh. The boy throws the man off his back and manages to run over to a branch. He runs back to the homeless man and begins pounding him with the branch, smashing it into the back of his head until it is a pool of brains and blood. Ferretchucker pulls out his mobile phone. No Signal.

Ferretchucker: No...please no!

He's crying, his eyes drooping as he climbs back onto his moped and starts to ride away. His eyes are heavy and keep on momentarily closing as he drives along the road. He presses his hand to his neck to try and stem the flow of blood, which is rapidly leaving him. His eyes close as a bend in the road appears. The moped keeps going straight, speeding through the autumn leaves. He opens his eyes once more just as the front wheel collides with a tree stump, launching him high into the air. He smashes to the ground with his arms outstretched. He screams as the bone of his right arms shoots out of his skin. He coughs up blood.

Ferretchucker: Somebody...plea...plea....please.

He hears a faint rumbling sound drawing nearer. The rhythmic sound of horses feet approach. He looks up at the figure riding the horse as it gets closer and gasps. The last thing he sees is a glint of metal as a sword slices through his neck. His head rolls through the leaves, but is crushed as the horses foot stamps down on it, galloping away.

Ending credits roll.

The Ferrets like it...

Last edited by _____V_____; 11-05-2009 at 08:26 AM.
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Old 10-05-2009, 07:15 AM
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Part 2

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of a car pulling into a driveway. Classical music is playing loud, violins pound out of the stereo. A woman wearing a deep red business suit steps out of the car. She looks to be around fifty. She looks around, sniffs the air and smiles. This is Hammerfan.

Hammerfan: This is going to be a good year...

She walks to the door of the bungalow she has arrived at. The door is unpainted with no windows. It looks quite cheap. She rings the bell. Cut to the inside of the house. No lights are on the the windows are blanked out by thick grey curtains. The television is on. Cut to a shot of the television...

Doc Faustus: This is your Mad Doc, telling you pricks to stay tuned! Fifty viewers have changed channels in the last ten minutes. And up next we will receive a visit from the writer and star of the new play opening tonight! It's the story of a man who brings forth the ghosts of this towns infamous Tuesday Massacres. Please welcome, The Re...

The television is turned off. An old man, no younger than seventy gets to his feet. He wears dark glasses and a black night gown. He picks up a stick from beside the chair and makes towards the front door. He puts on some gloves beside the door and opens the latched door. He keeps out of the light.

Roshiq: Who's there?

Hammerfan: Rosh. It's me, Hammer. Let me in!

He unlatches the door and lets her in. She pushes past him and makes haste towards the kitchen. He stands at the door, surprised.

Hammerfan: Lose the stick. Nobody's buying it.

He sighs and opens his mouth. No sound can be heard. He then walks toward the kitchen. Hammerfan rubs her finger in her ear.

Hammerfan: You bastard. I can hear that!

Roshiq: Sorry, although it's that or the stick.

Hammerfan: You've lived in this house for sixty years and in the time I've known you it hasn't changed once. Is your memory really that bad?

Roshiq: Maybe if you'd been a bit more careful I wouldn't have to remember!

Hammerfan: You're not still sour about that are you? I suffered too!

Roshiq: Your spine grew back. My eyes won't.

Hammerfan: It's a gift.

Roshiq: You hounds are all the same. Smug and full of yourselves. No class or respect.

She pours herself a glass of wine and leans back against the kitchen top. She studies him for a moment.

Hammerfan: Should we just cut the crap? You know why I'm here.

Roshiq: The answer is no.

Hammerfan: Maybe if you showed yourself you'd get some of that respect you desperately want.

Roshiq: The answer is no.

Hammerfan: [Sigh] Change the record.

Roshiq: I switched to CDs years ago.

Hammerfan: And I'm smug?

She rolls her eyes.

Hammerfan: Anyway, come on. The guys are desperate to see you. It's been...

Roshiq: Ten years. You didn't take the hint.

Hammerfan: I'm just letting you know the offer's still there.

Roshiq: How old is Molly now?

Hammerfan: Nineteen. Started at university last month. But don't change the subject. We want you there. The turn out was abysmal last year. We only got, what...three fights! Had to resort to our old tricks.

Roshiq: Oh really, that's pathetic. That isn't sport, there's only ever gonna be one winner! Trick or Treaters can never defend themselves properly.

Hammerfan: Year after year I promise bloodshed. It needs to be done!

Roshiq: You've got my answer. Could you please leave

Hammerfan: What happened to you? We used to have a laugh.

Roshiq: As I recall, it wasn't me that it happened to...

He opens his mouth once more and Hammerfan flinches. He guides her towards the door. She opens it fully. The rays his his skin and he steps calmly to the side.

Hammerfan: By the way...CD's are outdated. It's all MP3 now.

She closes the door. He shakes his head and turns around. He puts his hand up to a picture on the wall, and moves his hand over it. He walks back to the chair and puts on the television again...

The Return: So I'm really trying to show it from their view. Make the audience think...maybe the nuns deserved it.

The camera moves to the painting. It's of a beautiful woman, smiling slightly. There are small, milky teeth protruding ever so slightly. They're fangs.

Ending credits roll.

The Ferrets like it...

Last edited by ferretchucker; 10-05-2009 at 01:37 PM.
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Old 10-06-2009, 09:18 AM
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Part 3

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of Hammerfan's car speeding along a road. It rounds a corner just as Massacre Man is crossing the road, who quickly jumps back onto the path. He flips off the car and carries on crossing the road. He approaches an old man with greasy long grey hair and a full beard. The man is sitting with a dog and has a large tattered satchel next to him. Massacre Man quickly rummages around in his pocket and throws some money to the man, who ignores it.

Massacre Man: Dude. That's nearly three dollars.

The man's focus is across the road. Massacre Man turns to see the graveyard. It's very old, most of the gravestones almost crumbling with age. Massacre Man looks back at the man, who doesn't blink once.

Massacre Man: Won't be long before you're there, prick.

He walks on. The man sits for a moment, then stands and walks across the road towards the graveyard carrying his satchel. His dog follows. Fade to Massacre Man walking into a house. It's shown to be directly next door to Roshiq's house. A pumpkin is shown, and suddenly a knife plunges into it. Massacre Man is carving a lantern. The front door opens.

Massacre Man: Mum, that you?

Chronogrl: You wish.

Massacre Man: Jesus...had to be you.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Chronogrl: What's the matter, not got a hug for your big sister? Still angry at me for moving away?

He takes a step closer, showing the height difference. He looks down and laughs slightly.

Massacre Man: Big sister?

Chronogrl: Oh, screw you!

She laughs and hugs him, then looks at the pumpkin.

Chronogrl: What? Mum said you'd already got two in.

Massacre Man: Three, actually.

Chronogrl: What the hell do you need four Jack O' Lanterns for?

Massacre Man: They refused to sell me thirteen. Said I was lonely and had too much time on my hands.

Chronogrl: What?! They can't say that? Where did you get them from?

Massacre Man: Dad's farm...

Chronogrl: Jesus, Mass. Leave that douche to die.

Massacre Man: That's not funny.

An awkward silence lingers. She suddenly jolts we glee.

Chronogrl: Have you heard the news? Please say no! I told mum to let me tell you in person!

He jumps up and down mocking her.

Massacre Man: Ooooh. Oh oh, let me guess...ooooh! Is there a bun in the oven.

He claps and laughs, imitating a young girl learning good news. Chronogrl says nothing but a slight smile appears on her face. MAssacre Man's eyes grow wide and he laughs.

Massacre Man: NO!

She nods and beams at him, pulling a small picture from her pocket. It's a scan. She hands it to him and he studies it for a moment.

Massacre Man: Don't want to alarm you, but you've got a peanut growing inside you. Let me just get that...

He picks up the knife he was carving the pumpkin with and slowly puts it towards her stomach.

Chronogrl: Oh you're a big baby! You wouldn't hurt a fly!

He looks at the pile of pumpkin seeds and pulp. A fly has landed on it. He smashes his fist on it, looks back at her and winks.

Chronogrl: Point made. Oh! God, I just remembered! I came by not that long ago but nobody was in.

Massacre Man: Interesting.

He rolls his eyes.

Massacre Man: I'll just get back to carving this pumpkin.

She slaps his chest.

Chronogrl: I'm going somewhere with this! Anyway, you'll never guess who was next door at Mr. Roshiq's house.

Massacre Man thinks for a moment then he gasps and shakes his head.

Massacre Man: Fuck no!

She nods.

Chronogrl: She was just pulling out of the driveway listening to that awful music of hers. Looked pretty pissed off.

Massacre Man: I totally forgot about her. Meant to look out for her last year but...well, forgot.

Chronogrl: Remember that time she got Peaches to stop barking just by looking at him?

Massacre Man: There was something not right about her. I know she gave us candy that time but even then...I didn't feel comfortable.

Chronogrl: Well Mr. Roshiq's never been right, has he? But I never got it...he was a loner all year round apart from Halloween. She always comes and his son as well.

Massacre Man: We've never seen the son leave! I reckon he's tied up in the basement and used as some weird sex slave.

She slaps his chest again.

Chronogrl: You can't talk like that when the baby gets here!

Massacre Man: Fuck! Woman. It isn't here yet, is it? But anyway...Mum told me a couple of years ago that she used to stay around his house every once in a while. It's sick. Can you imagine them two getting it on?

Chronogrl: Not as sick as the idea of you and a woman!

She laughs and starts poking him. The camera backs out of their kitchen and moves across to the outside of Roshiq's house, then zooms in. It shoots through the kitchen and down into the basement. Roshiq is climbing onto a pile of hay. A pipe drips water every few seconds. His eyes begin to close. Blood is dripping from his mouth and a dead fox lay on the floor next to him. He starts to breath heavily, Small, black hairs begin to sprout from the top of his bald head.

Ending credits roll.

The Ferrets like it...
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Old 10-08-2009, 08:32 AM
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Part 4

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of a small, run down theater. The white board outside has black letters on it, forming the words


Fade to a shot of the inside of the theater, where some people are rehearsing on the stage. One of them is wearing a bright luminous jacket, dressed as a lollipop man. He is acting out helping several children across a road. The man is quite young, with dark hair. This is Fortunato.

Fortunato: Come along children. Hurry up.

He turns to his left. Nobody is next to him, but he begins talking as though there is.

Fortunato: Excuse me, can I help you?

He pauses for a moment, then puts on a look of great shock.

Fortunato: Mary mother of Jesus! RUN CHILDREN! RUN-

He gags, and squeezes a blood pack out of his neck, giving the impression that it's been sliced. A woman runs onto the stage. She has black hair and fair skin. She puts on a fake scream, then acts as though she's been pushed over. This is Papillon Noir. Fortunato stands up from the floor and looks at her.

Fortunato: Oh come on! You can do better than that.

Papillon Noir: Well, my humblest apologies, Lord Fortunato.

She mock bows.

Paillon Noir:But maybe if I hadn't have been put off by your twitching I could have done better!

Fortunato: The character has just been brutally cut open, I think he'd be trying his best to get somebody's attention!

Papillon Noir: Yes, well unfortunately the audience's attention is meant to be on me for that part of the scene.

Fortunato: Well that's a darn shame, if they have to watch that pathetic excuse for a fall.

Papillon Noir: It's rather difficult when the guy isn't here!

Fortunato: It's called acting! Jesus, this is a real performance, not amateur dramatics.

Papillon Noir: FUCK YOU! What have you been in? A Mcdonald's commercial and last years performance of Peter Pan. Tell me? Is it a sellout if only three people turn up?

Fortunato: How dare you, you skank?! But the acting world is difficult. At least I don't degrade myself to-

Papillon Noir: DON'T YOU DARE!

Fortunato: Sleeping with the di-

She slaps his face. He gasps, then slaps her. A person who was sitting in the audience quietly watching the chaos unfold stands and runs to the stage, pulling the two people apart. He has neat, brown hair and is wearing all black. Black shirt, black tie pulled down, black jeans and black shoes. He's also wearing a bowler hat. This is Doc Faustus.

Doc Faustus: Oy! What are you, some kind of freak? You don't hit a woman!

Fortunato: I didn't. I hit it.

He nods towards Papillon Noir. Doc smiles slightly.

Doc Faustus: Well, well, well. Mr. Return didn't mention he couldn't keep a hold of the actors.

Papillon Noir: If you can call him that.

Doc Faustus: Where is that twat?

Papillon Noir: Right there.

She points at Fortunato. He struggles but Doc Faustus keeps them split up.

Doc Faustus: I meant, the director.

Fortunato: Having one of his meditation sessions in the back room.

Doc Faustus: Is that what they call it? I just call it masterba-

Papillon Noir: I'm going to find him. Tell him I can't work with this dickhead. You coming Mr. Faus-

Doc Faustus: It's Doc Faustus, actually. And no...I just wanted to sit in a watch the..."magic" [he puts his fingers into quotation marks] take place.

He winks at her and then nods at Fortunato, then walks away. Fade to a very small room. Candles are lit and a young man is sitting in there. He has a beard and medium length hair. He's wearing a red suit and glasses. He's sitting on a pillow, with several large, old looking books laid out in front of him. He leans across to each one in turn, occasionally flicking the pages. He's making notes on a small notepad. Strange words like "Virdenyu" and "Mayalouu" are written down on it. There are sound of footsteps outside the room. He quickly flicks back through the notebook and speaks words that a written down.

The Return: Gersh Myutabi Restoru.

He clicks his fingers just as the door opens. Cut to Papillon Noir's view. She opens the door, and looks in. The books are gone now, and he is sitting on the pillow, reading. The candles are extinguished, and the lightbulbs of the room are on. He looks up at her.

The Return: Can I help you?

She looks around suspiciously for a moment, then shakes herself out of it.

Papillon Noir: Something needs to be done.

The Return: Yes...I shall install a lock on that door right away. I asked NOT to be disturbed.

Papillon Noir: I know, but-

The Return: You could have knocked...

She sighs.

Papillon Noir: Okay. I'm sorry. Now can you please listen?

The Return: It seems that's all I ever do in conversation with you...

She glares at him scornfully.

Papillon Noir: I'm quitting the play! Right now!

He raises his eyebrow.

Papillon Noir: This is ridiculous. I can't work with that douchebag out there, my character is just a stupid bimbo and for God's sake, we don't even have any actors for the Tuesday Massacre's yet! How on earth can we be expected to do a convincing performance if they don't rehearse.

The Return: I told you, I'll sort it.

Papillon Noir: Cutting it a bit fine, aren't we?! We just had to do the crossing scene with nothing to work with! And let's be honest, the script is lame! I'm quitting!

The Return: Mmhmm? Come here for a second.

He beckons her in, as he flicks through his notebook. Cut to the stage where Fortunato is talking to the children actors.

Fortunato: And for God's sake Billy, sort it out. This is a murder you've just seen happen. Tell you what, picture seeing your mum fall out of a tree onto a bike you've left out and cracking her head open.

The boy's eyes widen and he runs away screaming.

Fortunato: Come on! Let's see a little bit of professionalism!

Papillon Noir walks out, looking very pale.

Fortunato: Guess this is goodbye then, Paps?

He glares at her. She walks over to him.

Papillon Noir: Nope, changed my mind. Realized what a good play it really is. I apologize deeply for the way I acted earlier. Please forgive me. I will try not to fail you again.

He looks her up and down, not quite believing what he is hearing. Fade back to The Return. He is reading out of the books again. He smiles, then laughs.

The Return: Got it!

He stands up and walks away. The camera zooms into the page of one of the books. It shows a very old illustration of a person cowering in fear from another person, who is floating above and appears to be made out of some kind of mist. The title of the page is shown:


Ending credits roll.

The Ferrets like it...
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Old 10-09-2009, 12:15 PM
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Part 5

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of the woods. Fade to the road that Ferretchucker was attacked on. Hammerfan's car speeds down it. She's listening to the classical music still. She pulls a small black book out of her pocket, opens it up with one hand and uses a pen from the middle compartment of the car to cross of "Roshiq" from a list of names. Also on the list is the name "The Flayed One" with a tick next to it. She throws the book down, then glances up, catching site of something in her rear view mirror. A black horse runs across the road behind her. In less than a second.

Hammerfan: What on Earth?

The car bumps. She's run something over. She stops the car, and looks in the mirror. The hobo that Ferretchucker killed earlier is laying in the road.

Hammerfan: Oh dear...that has put me in a bit of a pickle.

She climbs out of the car, and walks to the trunk. From inside she takes out a pair of gloves and a bin bag. She walks over to the body and takes a look. The head that was there earlier, albeit bashed in by ferretchucker has been sliced off and removed at the throat. She stops, and looks around for a moment suspiciously. Then, shrugs it off, and begins hurriedly dragging the body over to the car.

Hammerfan: Jesus...smells worse than usual.

She sighs, then pulls the bin bag over the body and hauls it into the trunk of the car and climbs back into the drivers seat. From the glove compartment, Hammerfan takes out an old mobile phone, scrolling down the list of contacts until she reaches "Neverending". She phones him.

Hammerfan: Hello dear, could you just pop the oven on?...Yes...It happened again...I know, I know, but I was distracted...let's see if you're talking like that tonight...can I remind of last year...Fifteen? More like ten. I swear, you used to be able to take a beating...okay, love you too. Bye.

She hangs up the phone, then begins driving again. Fade Doc Faustus walking through the town. He passes the graveyard, just as the homeless man who ignored Massacre Man walks out of it. He has red stains on his shirt. Doc looks at him for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow. The man rummages in his satchel and pulls out an empty can of Tomato soup.

Doc Faustus: Uh huh...whatever.

He pauses for a moment.

Doc Faustus: Didn't you come on my show a few years ago?

The man remains silent.

Doc Faustus: Yeh...you're the nutcase who assured us that the monsters were plotting. Mac!

Scouse Man: Scouse Mac...I'm proud of my heritage.

He speaks with a strong (a hence, barely distinguishable) Liverpudlian accent.

Doc Faustus: Right...so...where are they then?

Scouse Man: You'll see soon enough.

Scouse Mac turns and walks away.

Doc Faustus: Wow. A homeless guy turned his back on me. Maybe I have hit rock bottom...

Scouse Mac turns around and smiles slightly.

Scouse Mac: Make jokes, go on your little tv show and go home. See how well it protects you tonight. Now, really, I have to go.

Doc Faustus laughs and waves at Scouse Mac.

Doc Faustus: Of course. Places to beg, people to scrounge off?

He shakes his head to himself as he turns and walks in a different direction. Scouse Mac looks into his satchel. Inside, amongst a garden fork and a rusty knife is a pale festering human hand. He speaks to himself.

Scouse Mac: See how well it protects you tonight...

Ending credits roll.

The Ferrets like it...
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Old 10-10-2009, 02:34 PM
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Part 6

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of the town, looking slightly different. It's less developed. The woods are thicker and larger. It's very early morning, with the sun just beginning to rise. The sky is clear, free of all clouds. A caption appears at the bottom of the screen.

"Herrerville - Sunday, October 31st 1967"

Fade to an outside shot of the church. There are no electric light inside, but bright torches burn along the walls. Fade inside. Three men are sitting on wooden chairs at the front of the hall. One of them is wearing jeans and a poncho. Her hair is blonde and flows freely. She has pure white skin and barely looks twenty. This is Miss Macabre.

Miss Macabre: I made the crucifix's last night. I had to do it really quietly or else Dad would have heard.

She takes three crucifix's out of a small bag. The ends of them have been sharpened down into spikes.

Miss Macabre: That's why the edges are still quite rou-

One of the other people snatches one of the weapons off her. He is a holy man, wearing a priest's outfit. He looks to be about forty, with short hair and sunken eyes. He has a large rash up the side of his face. This is Paul The Monk. He inspects the crucifix carefully.

Paul the Monk: Yes...yes, this should do very nicely. The retribution will go ahead.

He smiles slightly, and raises his fist triumphantly, yet uncertainly, like he is very nervous. He itches his rash, and every few seconds looks over his shoulder as though he thinks somebody is there. The third person reaches slowly and purposefully to the crucifix's, takes one and looks at it. He is the creepiest of all of them. He wears a black suit with a white tie. His skin is a slightly red colour and his hair has strips of white in it. Strangest of all, the whites of his eyes are a deadly shade of purple. This is Dante's Inferno.

Dante: This...could do. However, I had hoped that you would at least make the points smoother. We don't want them to get stuck, after all.

Miss Macabre: My apologies.

She glares angrily at him, and takes out an apple from the bag, taking a big bite out of it. She talks whilst the juices slip down her jaw.

Miss Macabre: But I'm sure you'll be fine with those large muscles of yours!

Paul The Monk: Listen here. If you two continue this bickering I'll do the retribution myself. Christ's will be done, no matter what!

Miss Macabre lifts her apple into the air triumphantly and shakes slightly in her chair. Her legs are folded on it; she is barefooted.

Dante: Remind me of the time.

Paul The Monk: Same time as always. You think I'd change it? I'm not stupid you know!

He suddenly looks very agitated.

Paul The Monk: I was told not to arouse suspicion!

Dante still looks very calm.

Dante: Of course...by God.

Paul The Monk: I sincerely hope you are not mocking me.

The two glare at each other for a moment, then Miss Macabre breaks the silence.

Miss Macabre: I'm going to take a kip before we begin!

She walks to the wooden pews and lays down, falling asleep almost instantly.

Paul the Monk: You are doing this for the reasons we agreed, I hope?

Dante: Of course. I'll be back in time for the, er...retribution.

He stifles a laugh. Fade to a shot of the outside of the church. People are walking in. It is light now, the sun shining brightly on the town. It looks more like Summer than Autumn. Fade to the inside of the church. The torches are still lit. Paul The Monk is standing at the front, addressing the people sitting down, among them are Miss Macabre and Dante.

Paul The Monk: So often, men in my position stand here and preach to you about the suffering of Christ. The pain he went through to save you from sin. And yet...the world carries on doing what it does. Criminals run rampant through the streets. Why, only last week that poor young girl was found in a gutter, robbed of that which was held so dearly.

A murmur goes through the crowd.

Paul The Monk: Why, oh why do people choose to overlook his suffering? The pain he went through is unbearable, indescribable, I can talk to you all together and it will never sink in. It pains me to say that the only ones who realize what Christ went through do not linger with us long enough to describe it. It is only those who die that learn. Only those who die whose eyes are opened!

People begins looking around uncomfortable with what Paul is saying. He walks forward to somebody in one of the front rows.

Paul The Monk: I wish I could let you all know what he went through. But I can't. No, only a few people will learn today...maybe the rest of you could begin to understand when you...see.

Another murmur goes through the crowd. This time, a man ushers his family up from the back and they go to the door, but as they try to push it open, they find that it is locked. Paul is directly in front of an old woman now. She is in her best clothes, and looks very worried. He smiles slightly at her.

Paul The Monk: Let the retribution...begin!

He pulls one of the wooden crucifix's from his pocket and drives it into the old lady's collar bone. She shrieks in terror as blood spurts from thw wound when he pulls it out. At the same time, Miss Macabre stabs her crucifix into a young teenage boy next to her's head.

Miss Macabre: Be free baby brother! Be free!

She squeals in delight. People rise from their seat in terror and run to the door, but as they do, Dante runs in front on them and drives the crucifix first into the man who tried to open the door earlier, then his wife. The young girl with them screams and runs, but he follows, diving. From over the pews, all Paul can see is blood splashing up from where Dante is stabbing the girl. He says nothing, instead, he stands and runs up to an old man who was attempting to climb to a window by standing on the pipe organ. Dante pulls him off. He shouts out as he falls.

Man: No!

The man's head hits the tough floor, cracking open. Paul sees this and shouts out.


A young man picks up a bible and runs towards Paul, rising it over his head ready to bash Paul, but Paul simply outstretches his arm, driving the crucifix into the man's ribs. The bible drops onto his head. Miss Macabre runs from the bodies of a family, blood covering her face. She licks her lips and she rushes towards the rabble trying to break down the door.


The man she is running at hurriedly tears a toddler boy from his mother's arms and throws him at her. She delights in driving the crucifix into the boy's back.

Miss Macabre: I'm saving you! STAY STILL!

Dante has abandoned his crucifix and is instead strangling a large woman in the corner. He drops her to the ground, and she breathes in deeply. Seeing she is still alive, Dante stamps on her head, smashing her skull open. Paul The Monk sees this and yells out. At that moment, the doors break open and the people flood out. Miss Macabre follows, screaming in delight.

Paul The Monk: NO! THIS IS ALL WRONG!!!

He runs at Dante who turns just in time to see him. Dante punches Paul in the face, stunning him for a moment. Dante lifts the priest up.

Paul The Monk: You will have no place in Heaven!

Dante: Oh, go to Hell!

Dante throws Paul into the wall, hitting one of the still lit torches. Paul falls to the floor, and his gown sets on fire. He screams in pain. Dante laughs and turns to start killing more people. Paul stands and runs at Dante, the crucifix in his hand outstretched. He drives it into the back of Dante's neck, at an angle do it goes into his head. Dante falls to the floor, dead. Paul tries to roll on the floor, but it is too late, the flames are too strong. He screams as he lays dying on the ground.

Paul The Monk: FREE ME!!!

Outside the church and quite far down the road, Miss Macabre is spinning, dancing over the body of a Lollipop man. A young woman is on the floor, having been pushed over. She stands and runs. A few men rush Miss Macabre, pulling the crucifix from her hands and pinning her to the floor. She yells out profanities in anger, and spits at the ground. A car round the corner up ahead. It slows down for a moment. The driver is obscured by the sunlight hitting the windscreen. Without warning, the car suddenly accelerates. The men pinning down Miss Macabre run away. The girl calmly stands up, standing where she is. She holds her arms out, palms facing the car.

Miss Macabre: You will sto-

The car smashes into her, launching her into the air. She falls hard to the pavement. The car speeds off. A "spinning newspaper" has the headline "THE TUESDAY MASSACRE". There are pictures of Miss Macabre, Dante and Paul The Monk. Underneath, the caption says "Killers all killed only moments into the dreadful event!"

The screen fades to black. It shows the church again, looking slightly different.

"October 31st - 2009"

Another priest is in the church, collecting up hymn books. The doors of the church blow open, and for a split second, a whisper can be heard.

Whisper: Retribution...

The Priest looks around, very worried. He shakes his head and continues collecting books.

Ending credits roll.

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Old 10-11-2009, 12:25 PM
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Part 7

Fade to an aerial shot of the town. The sun is slowly setting, turning the sky a red-purple color. Fade to a shot of an old Blue Volkswagen Camper T1 driving fast through the town. Chronogrl is driving, whilst Massacre Man lays down in the bag. He pops open a can of Lager. Chronogrl looks very agitated.

Chronogrl: Seriously, why didn't you think of this before?

Massacre Man: I thought we still had Dad's old overalls!

Chronogrl: Yeh, maybe if you hadn't have pulled your little stunt last year-

Massacre Man: Geddy said it'd work, I was suggestable.

Chronogrl: You were drunk. But even then, how could you think setting your hand on fire would be a good idea?

Massacre Man: It did look cool! And the aerosol did stop the burning.

Chronogrl: Until it reached your sleeve.

He laughs slightly in the back, and takes a few gulps of his beer.

Chronogrl: Glad you're finding this funny. Honestly, do you really need to dress up?

He sits up, and looks at her as though she's just punched him in the face.

Massacre Man: It's Halloween! Michael Myers will be done justice!

Chronogrl: Ugh, you're so lame.

She shakes her head in disbelief.

Massacre Man: It's tradition, anyway! Dress up, walk around scaring kids for an hour then go over to Geddy's for a few cold ones.

Chronogrl: Hell, I can't believe it, but that sounds more sad than trick or treating.

Massacre Man: Whatever...just keep driving.

Chronogrl: How did I let you talk me into this?

Massacre Man: I exploited your suggestible nature, big sis.

Chronogrl: Oh, wait, I remember. Twenty bucks wasn't it? Suggestable nature my ass.

Massacre Man: Worth a try...

He finished the drink and throws it onto the floor of the camper. Chronogrl almost gasps.

Chronogrl: Pick that up!

Massacre Man: Pick what up?

Chronogrl: You know what, you little twerp!

Massacre Man: Come over here and we'll see who's really little.

He sniggers.

Chronogrl: Pick it up!

Massacre Man leans one of his long arms across and picks it up, then throws it out the window. The car behind beeps it's horn.

Chronogrl: Make it twenty five!

Massacre Man: Fuck you!

Chronogrl: Hey! I deserve it, spending more than five minutes in a car with you. I wouldn't have to if you just bought your own. Mum paid for those lessons!

Massacre Man: Meh. I'd just roll that one over too. You could always let me drive this.

Chronogrl doesn't reply, instead turns up the car radio. Massacre Man laughs and lays his head back in the car. Fade to an outside shot of "Flor*Mart". The camper van parks and the siblings get out. Fade to them walking through the store. Chronogrl is holding a shopping basket. Massacre Man puts two pairs of Blue overalls in. Chronogrl looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

Massacre Man: Geddy might have a new magic trick.

She smiles and carries on walking. They pass the freezer area and she puts some mincemeat in the basket. As she does, a whole in the plastic lets the blood drip out. It goes onto her bag.

Chronogrl: Ah, crap...

Out of nowhere, a man in a man is a green t-shirt runs past grabbing her bag. Massacre Man, who was browsing posters turns and runs after the man. As he does so, Chronogrl runs past him, diving on the man. She pins him to the floor, pushing his head to the ground.

Chronogrl: Bastard stole my-

She screams out in pain as the man bites her finger, drawing blood.

Massacre Man: What the fuck?!

The Flor*Mart guards run to the man, holding him down so Chronogrl can get up. Fade to Chronogrl and Massacre Man standing at the front of the store. A man in a suit hands her a cheque.

Man: Once again, sincerest apologies. I only hope this covers it.

Chronogrl: Don't worry, it wasn't you fa-

Massacre Man: Fuck no, it doesn't! Look at her hand!

Massacre Man lifts her bandaged hand up.

Chronogrl: Mass!

She turns back to the store manager.

Chronogrl: It's fine. I'll be seeing you!

The man nods and walks back into the store. Massacre Man and Chronogrl start back to the van.

Massacre Man: Flor Mart are loaded! They can afford more than that!

Chronogrl: I used to work there, I have to keep some loyalty.

Massacre Man: You're such a pussy.

A hand wearing fingerless gloves pulls Chronogrl round by her shoulder. It's Scouse Mac. He still has his satchel.

Massacre Man: Dude, what the fuck?!

Chronogrl: Mr. Ma-

Massacre Man: Hold on? Aren't you the douchebag homeless guy from earlier? Too good for handouts?!

Scouse Mac: I was busy. Can I see your hand, Chronogrl.

Chronogrl: Pardon?

Massacre Man: You know each other?

Chronogrl: Mass, it's Mr. Mac.

Massacre Man looks blankly at her.

Chronogrl: Ah, right. He left before you came up to Herrerville High. He was my old History teacher.

Scouse Mac: Please, can I see your hand. It's important. I saw what happened in there.

Chronogrl: I...guess.

She holds up her hand.

Scouse Mac: Remove the bandage.

Massacre Man: Are you high? She just got a chunk bit out of the side of her finger!

Scouse Mac: Yes, she did. And now I need to see it.

Chronogrl: It's okay, Mass. I trust him.

She takes off the bandage.

Massacre Man: CHRIST!

Scouse Mac: Oh dead...just as I feared.

The wound has already been overcome with black scabs.

Chronogrl: What's happened to me.

Scouse Mac: If I told you now, you wouldn't let me help you...but I can, trust me. But only if we act fast. Do you know the garages on Deth Road?

She nods.

Scouse Mac: We need to get there...now!

Chronogrl looks to Massacre Man, then back at Scouse Mac and nods. They get into her van and drive away. Fade to inside the store, in a back room. The man in the green t-shirt is tied down to a chair, snarling. The whites of his eyes are purple. The store manager walks in.

Manager: What on earth is wrong with him? Rabies?

A security guard turns to the manager and shakes his head.

Guard: I seen rabies, and this ain't it!

The Manager thinks for a moment.

Manager: Okay...Okay. This is what we're gonna do.

He signals for the guard to come closer. They turn to face the door.

Manager: He might be able to still hear us...anyway. I'll phone the police and the paramedics. Meanwhile, I want you to get a knife from the back room and cut your hand.

Guard: What?

Manager: You guys acted way to slow. We want to appear like victims here...say he had a knife and attacked you. Make it look bad, but not fatal.

Guard: Have you lo-

Manager: No, I'm very much sane. Look, you will be compensated for this.

Guard: Oh...okay. I'll do it. Heh. Just realized one good thing. At least he's stopped snarling!

Both men's eyes widen, and they turn back to where the man was sitting. He has broken free of the chair, and is standing still, breathing heavily. Before either man can react, the man in the green shirt runs and dives at them. The screen cuts to black, with the sound of their struggling and screaming still playing. Ending credits roll.

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Old 10-12-2009, 12:37 PM
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Part 8

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of the woods. The sun is barely visible now as it sets. There can only be around ten minutes of sunlight left. The camera zooms down through the trees to a crowd of people. They're all looking at one woman. She's quite young, with blonde hair tied in a pony tail, and a black t-shirt with jeans. This is Novakru She has a small clipboard.

Novakru: The rules of the game are as follows. You have until eleven o'clock to survive. You must stay in the area marked out by the yellow tape. It covers three square miles. There are three creatures out there trying to kill you. Each of you have on three of these...

She holds up a small red ribbon.

Novakru: The creatures, which are a witch, a vampire and a zombie will be trying to take them off you. There are plenty of trees for them to hide in, so keep an eye out. As I said, you must survive until eleven o'clock at which point you will return here. The person or persons with the most lives remaining win the prize money.

Somebody puts their hand up. It's a young man wearing a tightly done up duffle coat. He has thick rimmed glasses on and a woolly hat. This is Posher.

Novakru: Yes, the kid with no fashion sense.

He glares at her for a moment, then speaks.

Posher: Can we steal other people's lives?

Novakru: Ah, good question. No you cannot. On top of the creatures hunting you, there will be several "imps" roaming around. They will watch for cheating.

Posher: Can we sabotage the other people in any way?

Novakru: How...er, how do you mean?

Posher: Like...could I go up behind somebody and bash their leg in with a branch so they can't come back to the start line?

Novakru: I'm sorry, are you serious?

He nods innocently, as though he doesn't see anything wrong with what he just said.

Novakru: Lets say, erm, NO! Jesus, any other questions?

The group of around ten people shake their heads. She beams at them and looks at her watch.

Novakru: In that case, you have until the sun has set to get used to the area. At that point, the creatures will be released. Go!

The people run through the two posts which signify the entrance and begin fanning out. Novakru turns and pulls out her phone. She goes down the contacts until she reaches the name "Ferretchucker". The phone rings, and then his answer phone message plays.

Ferretchuker: Leave a message! Or don't. It's up to you. I'd really like it if you did, but I don't want to pressure you or anything...

The pointless ranting continues. She sighs.

Novakru: Gonna kill that ki-

The beep.

Novakru: Hey, boy! Just phoning to find out if your coming to my little thing up here. It'd mean a lot to me if you did! Seriously, after forty two hours of labor, you owe me. Okay, ciao!

She hangs up the phone and turns around, back to the playing area. The sun has just about set. She pull out a walkie talkie.

Novakru: Okay, stubborn, I think you guys can just about enter, over.

No reply.

Novakru: Stubbs, hey, you gonna pick up?

Still no reply. She sighs.

Novakru: Imps. I repeat, Imps, do you copy?

No reply.

Novakru: Is anybody at all there?

She waits anxiously, but still nothing. She speaks into the walkie talkie one more time.

Novakru: Maybe it's where I am. I'm gonna move into the area.

She puts the talkie back into her pocket and moves into the playing field. The sun has completely set now, so she takes out a small torch and shines it around. She speaks into the air.

Novakru: No need to worry, just me. Keep playing.

She talks quietly to herself.

Novakru: Jesus...bet she's drunk agai-

A scream rings out from the distance.

Novakru: Finally!

She starts to walk back towards the entrance, but then another scream rings out. It's shrill and full of terror.

Novakru: She really knows how to put on a show, heh.

Another screams comes, then another. Novakru talks into the talkie again.

Novakru: Okay, get the kids to shut up now. The police said they don't want too much noise.

A voice screams out from the distance.


She looks around suspiciously, then talks back into the talkie.

Novakru: Anybody else hearing that?

Still no reply.

Novakru: Just go and sort it out myself then. Fucking hell...

She walks in the direction of the screams, torch shining forward.

Novakru: If this is just some kid over reacting I'm gonna be pretty pissed off!

She starts to push through a large bush, then something grabs her arm. She jumps, and looks down. It's Posher.

Novakru: What the-

He puts his finger to his lips urgently, telling her to be quiet. She stands for a moment, then bends down.

Novakru: What the hell is this about. Why- oh my...are you crying? What's wrong?

He speaks in a whisper.

Posher: It came out of the darkness...I was watching them...they were in a big group and I was gonna jump out on them?

Novakru: Who?

Posher: The other people in the game...then this guy, or thing road out of the darkness...he came from nowhere. On a horse...

Posher puts his head down and whimpers. He's shaking uncontrollably.

Novakru: You...you're really scared, aren't you? What did this man do?

He looks up to her, then turns to his left. He points to something on the ground around ten feet away. She waits for a moment, then begins to creep towards it. Posher whimpers again. As she gets closer, her eyes widen as she starts to see what it is.

Novakru: No...

Posher: He did it...to all of them.

She shines the torch on the object. It's a human head, the head of a young girl who had been in the crowd at the beginning. She squeaks in fear, then lets out a short scream before quickly recovering herself. Suddenly, from her right, fast heavy footsteps sound. Out of the darkness, a man in silver and black armor rides a horse towards her. He holds a large glinting blade. He face is obscured by a spiked, silver and slightly crudely made helmet. This is V. His voice sounds, although it sounds like a distant echo.

V: Got you now!

Posher: RUN!

Novakru doesn't need telling twice. She runs up to Posher, and then alongside him. V laughs maniacally as his horse draws closer and closer to the pair. Posher glances behind, and seeing that V is getting closer, pushes Novakru backwards in an attempt to save himself. She instead falls over flat on the floor. The horse rides on past her, following Posher.

Posher: Take her! PLEASE!

V: Coward scum! This will be fun...

V pulls a dagger from his side and throws it. The blade sticks into Posher's shoulder. Just as he begins to fall, the horse rides past him and V swings his sword. Novakru watches in terror as the boy's head flies high into the air and with barely any effort, V sticks out his sword, spiking the head on the end of it. The horse stands on it's hind legs, then turns, facing back towards Novakru.

V: Who's next?

Ending credits roll.

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Old 10-13-2009, 12:23 PM
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Part 9

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of a medium sized detached house. There are several cars parked outside. Another car parks, and a young man with a long head of hair steps out. He has a small shaggy beard and is wearing a brown hooded sweater and jeans. This is The Flayed One. He rings the door bell and within a few seconds, a beaming Hammerfan opens the door.

Hammerfan: Ah, Flayed!

She gives him a big hug and kisses him on the cheek.

Hammerfan: We didn't think you'd show this year!

Flayed: Yeh, well, I might have to shove off early. Got some paint to watch dry.

He smiles and winks at her. She whacks him with her tea towel.

Hammerfan: Come on in and help yourself.

She points to a bowl of cooked meat in barbecue sauce. Amongst the pieces of meat are a foot and a finger.

Hammerfan: We'll just give the others a few minutes to arrive then we can start. Neverending, look who arrived!

Neverending: Who is it, dear?

He steps out of the kitchen whilst wiping some red liquid off a glass. He smiles when he sees Flayed.

Neverending: Good show! Come to risk it again?

Flayed nods politely then takes a collar bone covered in meat from the bowl and begins biting it. He sits down in the lounge area. There are three other people in there. The one closest to him is a young woman with very pale skin. She has small fangs protruding from her lips and bright green eyes. Her hair is dark brown and hanging loose. She nods at him in greeting.

Flayed: Muderdoll! Is there ever a year when you're not here?

She replies with no humor.

Murderdoll: Once back in 1986 I decided not to turn up. I'd killed some family in Texas the night before and it was tricky to cross the border.

Flayed raises an eyebrow, then looks across to the next person along. She has pitch black hair and eyeliner to match. She's wearing a long black dress and is holding the hand of a man who also has long dark hair. He also has large muscles and a beard to make Flayed's look like a prepubescent school girl. This is Rayne and Dude Guadalupe.

Rayne: Hey! 'Bout time you turned up. I've been wanting to give you a thrashing for years.

Flayed: You'd like that, wouldn't you.

Dude Guadalupe suddenly stands up and stares down at The Flayed One angrily.

Dude Guadalupe: What the FUCK did you just say?

Flayed looks up at him and cocks a smile.

Flayed: That didn't work on me the last time, don't think I've forgotten!

Dude takes a few steps towards Flayed, then he face turns to a smile and he shakes Flayed's hand.

Dude: Good to see you again, mate. At least now there are two useful guys on our team!

Hammerfan walks in holding a glass of what looks like red wine. She hands it to Murderdoll who begins drinking.

Hammerfan: Watch it, you!

Dude: Sorry Ma'am.

He mock bows. She laughs.

Hammerfan: Neverending! Finish up in there, looks like we can get started now, nobody else is turning up!

Rayne: Roshiq not coming, again?

Hammerfan shakes her head.

Hammerfan: He's still a bit sore. I tell you, I don't think he's left his house in years! Well, apart from...well, Halloween.

Neverending walks in with a bowl of cheese-its.

Neverending: These are just for afterwards, you know. I always get a craving for them.

Murderdoll: I gotta hand it to you, Hammer, this is really good this year.

She holds up the glass of red liquid.

Hammerfan: Freshly squeezed today.

Neverending: Tell me about it!

Dude: Who'd it come from?

Hammerfan: Some guy I hit on the road. Looked homeless. Funny though, he didn't have a head. I can't imagine my tire would take it clean off like that...

Flayed: Ha! You hit another guy?

Neverending: Every bloody year!

He puts on an exaggerated woman's voice.

Neverending: Nev, it happened again? Can you handle it for me while I go and invite my ex again?

Rayne: Ooooh, trouble in paradise?

Hammerfan: Let's see you talk like that downstairs! Speaking of which, shall we begin?

They all nod, then stand and make their way to the basement. The basement is separated into two halves. The stairs lead to one half, which is quite a nice, carpeted room with plain white walls. There are comfy arm chairs down there and a large blackboard. Hammerfan walks over and draws a long white line down the middle of the board.

Hammerfan: Okay, last year it was Wolves who chose first, so this time it's bats!

Rayne steps forward to a hat that Neverending is holding. She pulls out a piece of paper and unfolds it.

Murderdoll: Perfect! FLAYED!

Flayed: I'll try and go easy on you this time.

Murderdoll: Ha! I'm not the one with a limp, she shoots she SCORES!

Flayed laughs and the two of them approach the large breeze block wall which split the basement in half. At the far end of the wall is a large metal door it a bar across it. Dude lifts the bar and the two of them walk into the room. This side isn't nearly as well looked after as the other side. The walls are entirely covered in breeze blocks. There's a rusty bucket in one corner and a pile of needles in another. The ceiling in dripping and there's a tap on one side. Flayed covers his nose.

Flayed: Eurgh! Jesus, Nev, couldn't afford to clean it last year?

Neverending: Honestly! Sometimes I wish I'd become a Vampire before I met her! Then I wouldn't have to worry about Molly and her damn college fees.

Hammerfan: Oy!

Neverending: You know I'm only joking!

There are several small holes poked in breeze blocks, about the size of a can of drink. Hammerfan speaks through one of them whilst Dude puts the bar back across the door.

Hammerfan: Okay, Flayed. The morphine is over there in the corner, see it? Induce the change, if you will.

Flayed: Yep! I got it

Neverending: And MD, have you had enough blood?

Muderdoll: I could do with a bit more.

Neverending: Okay, just fill up your glass from that bucket there!

She dips her glass in the bucket and downs the blood. Flayed takes one of the morphine injections and sticks it into his arm. Almost immediately, his muscles start to bulge and grey sprouts from all over his skin. The muscles bulge so much that his skin begins to tear, although the wounds heal within seconds as skin reforms. He screams out in pain. Murderdoll stands ready to fight. Hammerfan shouts through the hole.

Hammerfan: Remember Muderdoll, you can start whe-

Murderdoll: When he howls. I remember! Okay...time to toughen up.

She closes her eyes and concentrates hard for a moment. Her skin begins to get darker and darker, turning a deep purple colour, before returning to it's pale state. She reopens her eyes and they're blood red. She twists her head side to side, clicking it. Flayed has almost fully change now. He is hunched over, whimpering like a hurt dog. When he looks up, his face is a gruesome cross between human and canine. Most of the face is hairless, and whilst his jaw and nose are stretched out, that is pretty much the only change. His nose has not turned black and his lips still look the same. His teeth are long and sharp, and his ears are larger and pointed. He blinks once over his yellow eyes, then wheezes a few times.

Murderdoll: Almost...

Suddenly, he lists his head up to the ceiling and lets out a loud howl.

Murderdoll: There we go...

She smiles maliciously. Flayed jolts as though he has just noticed her presence. He growls deeply, then in unison both of them dive at each other, Flayed going high and Murderdoll darting low. Just before they collide, the screen cuts to black, but the sounds of shouting, screaming, barking and wincing can still be heard as well as mauls and scratches, tears and bites. Ending credits roll.

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Last edited by ferretchucker; 12-23-2009 at 01:44 PM.
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Old 10-16-2009, 03:36 PM
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Part 10

Opening credits roll. Fade to a shot of the outside of the theater. A small line on people are queuing outside, handing their tickets to a young spotty teen working at the booth. Most of them are quite young. As they walk in, a boy with a long fringe looks across to the girl he's with.

Boy: Mum and Dad refused to come. Said it was too soon.

Girl: Why should we give a fuck? I weren't born.

Boy: Did I tell you? My mum went to school with a girl who's granddad was killed. Apparently he tried to climb out a window from a pipe organ!

The girl gives out a short and cold "HA!" and the two of them enter. Fade to a shot of the backstage room. Fortunato walks hurriedly in the direction of the small room where The Return had been. Papillon Noir walks into his way and looks up at him. Her eyes are emotionless, and when she speaks, her voice matches.

Papillon Noir: We aren't to go in there whilst he works.

Fortunato: I'm going to ask what the hell we're gonna do about the parts of the murderers.

Papillon Noir: But we can't go in there.

Fortunato: I know he said that, but this is important!

Papillon Noir: Not as important as his work.

Fortunato: What? Shove off.

He tries to push past her, but she grabs his arm. He tries to pull it away but her grip is hard. He looks her up and down for a moment.

Fortunato: Okay...I see what this is. Trying to shut me out. Fine. Okay. But let's see who's laughing when the reviews come out!

He walks back to where he came from, brushing his hair out of his eyes. She turns sits down, legs crossed, staring blankly into space. Cut to The Return in his small room. He is sitting in front of a large mirror. He has a small kettle next to him. He pours some water into a metal bowl beneath the mirror and it steams up. He speaks quietly, under his breath.

The Return: You agree to what we have decided?

A large Y is drawn in the condensation.

The Return: And you understand...I will have full control over you.

The Y is underlined once.

The Return: And you will leave me alone...forever?

The Y is underlined once more.

The Return: Okay...full embodiment will commence in roughly fifteen minutes...you must concentrate.

Nothing happens to the condensation.

The Return: If all goes to plan, you should be able to hear my instructions clearly.

A small smiley face appears in the condensation, which has nearly all faded.

The Return: Good, good.

He nods slightly, then pulls his notebook out of his pocket. He says something in a strange language. Cut to a shot of the outside of the door. He opens it, and the inside of the room can be seen, which has returned to it's plain self. As he walks, he spots Papillon Noir.

The Return: Oh, right.

He flicks through the notebook.

The Return: Cursia Tuno Rem.

He doesn't take a second look at her as she suddenly snaps back to sense, and instead carries on walking. Fade to a shot of Chronogrl's camper van pulling into a back alley car park. Her, Massacre Man and Scouse Mac all get out. Scouse Mac leads them over to a garage with a murky green doored garage. He opens the door, and Chronogrl and Massacre Man both hold their noses.

Massacre Man: Jesus! What do you keep in here?

Scouse Mac: Certain things are necessary for my line of work.

Massacre Man: It smells like dead people?

Scouse Mac looks at him without blinking. Massacre Man's jaw drops.

Massacre Man: NO!

Scouse doesn't answer him, he instead beckon Chronogrl over. The room itself is larger than the average garage, being long enough to fit two medium sized cars in. The walls are very worn, eithe rlarge cracks and holes in them. The furthest wall looks like somebody tried to paint it white, but gave up halfway through. Around the edges are loads of non matching kitchen counters with draws, cupboards and worktops. Hanging from the walls are various weapons including knives, crossbows, axes and a few crossbows as well as one long katana. As well as that is a small fridge and a very old bookcase filled to the brim with old leather bound books. In one small corner is a mattress with several holes in it and a small flea bitten sheet on top.

Scouse Mac: You, over there. You...

He looks at Massacre Man.

Scouse Mac: Take this.

He throws him an old Nokia mobile phone.

Scouse Mac: Look through the contacts for Mona. Mona Lisa. Tell her you're with Mac at the garage. Tell her it's a level 3 bite.

Massacre Man starts looking through the phone. Chronogrl stands nervously next to one of the counters. She looks very pale now, her eyes are beginning to go bloodshot. The blackness of the bite mark is fading to a dirty grey colour. Scouse Mac walks to one of the draws and rummages around for a pair of old glasses. He puts them on and looks at the wound.

Scouse Mac: Hmmmm.

Chronogrl: It's fading...that means it's getting better, right?

Scouse Mac: I wish...Keep quiet. I need to concentrate.

He inspects it for a further ten seconds or so, then rushes to one of the fridges. He gets out a carton of milk and tears the top open, pouring it into a chipped mug. He fills it about half full, then puts the milk back. He then takes a chunk of meat out of the fridge that has been wrapped up in cling film. As he unwraps it, Chronogrl shrieks for a moment.

Chronogrl: What's that?

Scouse Mac looks at it for a second.

Scouse Mac: What does it look like? It's a foot.

He bangs it down on a table, then takes a rusty meat cleaver from a drawer. Massacre Man has finished on the phone now and looks up just as Scouse Mac cuts off the big toe of the foot. He quickly holds it over the glass of milk and squeezes, dripping blood into it. The milk turns pink.

Massacre Man: What the fuck is that for?

Scouse Mac: It's like a jab. Get a small dose of a disease to build up an immunity. You wouldn't understand. Just...

He makes a shushing sound, then throws the toe down into the corner of the floor. From one of the cupboards, he takes out a plastic pot of something. When he opens it it is revealed to be chopped up pieces of onion. He puts a handful into the mug. Chronogrl gags slightly.

Massacre Man: She isn't going to have to -

Scouse Mac holds up a finger to silence him, and carries on bustling about. He takes a large bag of sugar which was on one of the counters and pours a large amount into the mug. Then, finally, he walks over to her and pulls one of her hairs out. She holds her head and glares at him.

Scouse Mac: The book says there must be an element of surprise in the cup. Well, I guarantee you didn't know I'd do that!

He laughs a dead laugh, no emotion left in it. He takes a small teaspoon and begins stirring up the drink. He takes it over to Chronogrl and Massacre Man. They look in. The mixture is a lumpy, thick pink liquid. Chronogrl gags again. Scouse Mac dips his finger into it, then holds out his other hand to take hers. He begins rubbing the wound with the liquid.

Chronogrl: Oh thank God! I thought I'd have to-

Scouse Mac holds the mug in front of her face.

Scouse Mac: You do.

Chronogrl: Oh you have to be kidding me! Please...

Scouse Mac: Trust me. I know what I'm doing. She looks at the drink, then at her wound. She frowns in thought, then takes the mug.

Massacre Man: Bottoms up...

Chronogrl holds her nose then takes a gulp of the drink. As it sits in her mouth for a moment, she gags again, this time it is followed by vomit. The mixture of vomit and the concoction slaps onto the floor.

Scouse Mac: No, no! You have to down it straight away. You have to get as much in you as possible.

She looks at the mug again, then puts her head back and drinks. The sound made as she slops down the thick liquid are like a horse with water. She finishes the last gulp and slams the mug down onto the counter, gasps and coughs a lot. He eyes are red and watering.

Massacre Man: Why did you put it on the bite if you were just gonna make her drink it? Kicks?

Scouse Mac: Don't be such an arrogant fool. I'm just doing what the book says.

Massacre Man: What book?!

Scouse Mac walks to the bookshelf and pulls out one of the newer books.

Scouse Mac: Infections of Paranormal Kind. Written by Rod Eric Usher.

Chronogrl: Paranormal kind?

Scouse Mac: There's a lot you need to know...things are happening in this town. They have been for years, but lately...it's been unusually strange and it looks like tonight, well, to put it in simple terms so he...

He gestures towards Massacre Man.

Scouse Mac: Can understand. The shits gonna hit the fan.

Ending credits roll.

The Ferrets like it...
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