FADE IN:
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
BLACKNESS.
Slow, ragged breathing. Uneven. Not alone.
RILEY CARTER (17) bolts upright in bed -- gasping.
Her breath clouds the air -- too cold for indoors.
Then she sees it --
Curtains flutter in a sharp, icy draft --
The window is OPEN.
She fumbles for her lamp --
CLICK.
A moth SLAMS into the shade -- frantic. Manic.
Whump. Whump.
Its shadow twitches across the wall -- massive, erratic.
Riley looks down at her nightstand --
A stack of Polaroids. Neat. Face down.
The floorboards CREAK.
She stares. Flips the top one --
INSERT: Riley. Asleep. Tonight.
Her pulse pounds in her ears.
She flips the next --
INSERT: Closer now. Her lips parted. Dreaming.
Her breath catches. Fractures.
The Polaroids slip -- scatter across the floor like dead
leaves.
The room stills.
Then --
CREAK.
The bedsprings shift -- but she’s not moving.
She leans over the edge --
UNDER THE BED
Darkness. Pulsing.
Suddenly --
TWO HANDS EXPLODE FROM THE DARK
Clamp around her neck --
YANK her off the bed --
She hits the floor hard --
Sheets twisted around her in a shroud.
From the darkness, ETHAN (19) unfolds --
Gaunt. Ferocious. Hungry.
He lunges at Riley --
BOOM!
The door slams open --
SANDY CARTER (50s) bursts in -- shotgun raised, trembling.
Her eyes are wide with horror and fury.
She chambers a round.
Red-and-blue strobe through the curtains -- SIRENS wail
close.
Ethan snarls. Cornered.
He backs toward the window and stops, locking eyes with
Riley.
He grins.
ETHAN
You're not done being mine.
Boots THUNDER down the hall.
POLICE OFFICER (O.S.)
Police! On the ground!
SMASH TO BLACK.
FADE IN:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
Echoes of Fear
INT. CAMPUS LIBRARY - NIGHT
Wind rattles against tall arched windows. Stacks loom tall.
At the end of a long oak table, bundled in a thick coat --
RILEY (20) sits alone, posture rigid, shoulders tight.
SUPER: THREE YEARS LATER
She flips through a heavy textbook. On the cover --
“Fear & Desire: A Psychological Study.”
Her fingers linger on the corner, trembling slightly, like
she’s bracing for something to leap from the text.
A faint CREAK echoes between the stacks.
Riley stiffens. Her breath hitches.
She looks up --
Rows of books stare back.
Silence.
She pulls her coat tighter.
Inhales -- in four. Hold. Out six.
EXT. CAMPUS LIBRARY - NIGHT
Thick snowflakes swirl around Riley as she passes the frosted
glass entry.
A SHADOW paces her inside -- in perfect step.
EXT. CAMPUS PATH – NIGHT
Snow whirls under the flickering glow of a row of lamps.
The campus is deserted, skeletal trees bending in the wind.
Riley moves quickly, boots sinking into the snow -- breath
clouding in the air.
She passes through one pool of light. Then the next.
The lamps BUZZ overhead, jittering.
EXT. SORORITY HOUSE - NIGHT
The blizzard SHRIEKS, tearing at the trees.
Through the white squall, a sorority house looms into view --
A Tudor relic sagging under snow -- steep gables clawing
upward.
Riley trudges up the front steps, her boots sinking in the
snow with each heavy step.
The mullioned windows glare out like rows of black, glassy
eyes.
Watching.
INT. FOYER - NIGHT
The front door SLAMS behind Riley.
She stomps her boots -- brushes the snow from her coat.
The foyer looms around her --
Grand once, but decayed.
A grand staircase curves upward like the ribcage of a massive
beast.
A cold draft curls around Riley’s ankles.
She stiffens -- shivers.
From deep below, faint and muffled --
RING.
Riley’s jaw tightens.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Whispers in the Blizzard
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Holiday lights sag in lazy zigzags across the walls, half
their bulbs burned out.
A grandfather clock ticks somewhere behind the girls -- too
loud in the quiet.
On a beanbag, CHELSEA (20) — glossy, curated, every gesture
practiced -- scrolls her phone.
BROOKE (21) perches on the arm of the couch like it’s her
throne, one hand balancing a glass of cheap wine, the other
digging into a half-empty bag of chips.
LILLY (20) curls in an oversized chair, swallowed by a
blanket and a battered copy of “Wuthering Heights.”
The room feels lived-in, but in that end-of-semester, half-
feral way -- crumbs, wine rings, and exhaustion.
Floorboards CREAK somewhere in the house.
Riley shuffles in from the cold, cheeks pink -- throws her
backpack to the floor with a thud.
BROOKE
Ayyy, she lives. The library goblin
returns.
CHELSEA
Welcome back to civilization. Kind
of.
RILEY
I was just in civilization. It’s
called a library.
Riley glances at the table --
Half-burnt candles, empty bottles, crumbs.
RILEY (CONT'D)
This place looks like shit.
Remember -- Sue's coming back
tomorrow.
BROOKE
When the house mom's away, the
sisters will play.
Chelsea finally looks up from her phone -- studies Riley.
CHELSEA
You okay? You look pale.
Riley blinks, caught off guard by the concern.
RILEY
Yeah, fine.
Chelsea angles herself by the frosted window -- the
reflection of her ring light haloing her face.
CHELSEA
Blizzard selfie!
FLASH.
White light flattens everyone’s faces, ghostly.
Chelsea checks her phone.
CHELSEA (CONT'D)
Ugh. Not the blizzard chic look I
wanted, but it'll do. Let the
double-taps begin, ladies.
RILEY
Always wanting to be seen...
CHELSEA
What’s wrong with wanting to be
seen?
Lilly doesn’t look up.
LILLY
It’s shallow.
CHELSEA
Seriously, Lilly? People only call
you shallow when they’re drowning.
Lilly finally looks up -- a sharp flicker in her eyes.
LILLY
Maybe I’m just better at treading
water.
BROOKE
Okay everyone, chill.
CHELSEA
Relax. I’ve got pepper spray and a
rape whistle. Totally invincible.
RILEY
You don’t know it’s dangerous --
until it is.
Chelsea chuckles to herself, amused.
CHELSEA
Okay, Freud -- what are you
diagnosing us with this time?
RILEY
No. This is from personal
experience.
The room stills.
Chelsea’s smirk falters.
The clock ticks louder.
BROOKE
(mutters)
Well, there goes the vibe.
Lilly peers out the frosted window --
Snow swirls so thick it seems alive -- writhing under the
streetlight.
LILLY
Blizzards make you feel safe...
But it’s a trick -- so you forget
you’re trapped.
BROOKE
Jesus, Lilly.
CHELSEA
Yeah. Seriously.
LILLY
This house is like a hundred years
old -- it doesn't freak you out?
We're basically trapped here in
this blizzard.
(beat)
Have you guys ever experienced
weird shit in this house? Like --
supernatural shit?
BROOKE
Every sister thinks they're
sorority house is haunted. What's
new?
LILLY
My mom was a sister here in
nineteen-eighty, and she swears she
saw the ghost of a past sister one
--
CHELSEA
-- Stop before you start giving me
nightmares.
LILLY
Fine.
Brooke mimes zipping her mouth shut.
Lilly turns another page.
Riley’s gaze shifts to the window.
Her reflection stares back --
A SHAPE behind her. Still. Watching.
She blinks --
It’s Gone.
TICK... TICK... TICK...
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Echoes of Fear
INT. RILEY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT
The room is still -- dimly lit by the warm halo of a single
bedside lamp.
Riley sits cross-legged on her bed -- scrolls her phone.
She hesitates, thumb hovering over the voicemail icon -- "1
NEW MESSAGE."
Her hand trembles. She hits “PLAY.”
ROBOTIC VOICE (V.O.)
This is an automated call from the
Victim Information and Notification
Everyday service. Please listen
carefully. Offender Ethan Rowe has
been released from state custody,
effective today, 3:11 p.m.
If you have questions about this
notification, please contact your
local victim services office --
Riley hangs up. Freezes. The words “Ethan Rowe” echo in her
head like a curse.
Her phone slips from her hand -- hits the mattress -- bounces
to the floor.
The room suddenly feels colder. Even the shadows seem to
shift.
She clenches her jaw. Inhales -- In four. Hold. Out six.
Genres:
["Thriller","Psychological Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
A Night to Remember
INT. RILEY’S BEDROOM – NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
Pop music filters faintly through a closed bedroom door.
RILEY (17) stands in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting
the straps of a shimmering midnight-blue dress.
Her hair is curled, makeup soft but glowing.
She looks radiant. Hopeful. Young.
A scrapbook lies open on the desk behind her — photos of
Riley and TOM, her smiling boyfriend. Sweet, goofy. Safe.
She applies a final swipe of lip gloss and smiles at her
reflection
A doorbell DINGS downstairs — sharp, unexpected.
Riley’s eyebrows pinch.
RILEY
Tom’s early!
She grabs her silver clutch and slips into her heels.
She takes one last look in the mirror — a princess about to
step into her fairytale night, and opens the bedroom door.
INT. STAIRCASE – NIGHT
Riley lifts the bottom of her dress -- revealing beautiful
navy stilettos -- and slowly descends the stairs.
Riley’s mom peeks out from the kitchen, smiling warmly.
MOM
You look gorgeous, Rie. Tom is one
lucky buck.
Riley forces a playful eye-roll, blushing -- heads for the
front door.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Unwanted Affection
INT. ENTRYWAY – CONTINUOUS
Riley pulls in a breath — opens the door.
The world drops out from under her.
ETHAN stands there in a black tuxedo. Pale, stiff. Dead-eyed.
He holds a single red rose like a ritual offering.
Riley freezes. Her smile fades. The music muffles — all
that’s left is her heartbeat.
ETHAN
Riley. You look beautiful.
The rose trembles in his hand.
Riley’s throat closes.
Her fingers dig into the doorknob the way someone clings to a
ledge.
RILEY
Ethan, what are you doing here?
He steps forward, offering the rose.
She instinctively steps back.
ETHAN
I wanted to surprise you. I know
Tom doesn’t appreciate you like I
do.
RILEY
Ethan… I told you before, I don’t
like you like that. You can’t keep
doing stuff like this.
Ethan’s smile twitches — a flicker of something darker in his
eyes.
ETHAN
Why not? I’d be good to you. You
know I would.
Riley’s breath hitches. She pushes the door slightly toward
him, trying to end this.
RILEY
Please. Just go.
A long, awful beat.
Ethan stares at her. Studying her.
The rose drops lightly at his feet.
His smile disappears.
ETHAN
Okay... I’ll leave.
He turns, slow and stiff, and walks away down the porch
steps, into the dark.
EXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
The porch light flickers.
Riley watches him go, every muscle rigid.
Just before Ethan reaches the sidewalk, he stops -- turns.
Looks back at her -- shadowed, unreadable.
Genres:
["Thriller","Psychological Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
Silent Distress
INT. ENTRYWAY - CONTINUOUS
Riley slams the door -- backs up, breathing hard.
The air is thick. Heavy
Then --
The doorbell DINGS.
Riley jumps, hands shaking.
TOM (O.S.)
Riley, you ready?
Riley’s legs almost give out.
She leans against the wall.
Her mother steps into the hall, confused.
MOM
Honey? Who was at the door before?
Riley swallows hard.
She says nothing -- just stares at the dropped rose, gleaming
red.
END FLASHBACK
Genres:
["Thriller","Psychological Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
Echoes of Courage
INT. RILEY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (BACK TO PRESENT)
Riley snaps out of her memory --
RUSTLING.
Subtle. Not the storm. The closet.
She turns.
The closet door --
Slightly ajar.
She approaches --
One slow, measured step at a time.
Her fingers tremble around the knob...
She yanks it open --
WHOOSH!
A burst of MOTHS explodes into the air --
Papery wings batter against her face.
They spiral -- vanishing into corners like dying sparks.
Riley stumbles back, gasping -- her eyes dart to the now-
empty closet.
Behind her, the mirror catches her --
But her reflection lingers behind for a half-beat -- just
long enough to unsettle her.
Riley blinks.
Her reflection syncs again.
She exhales -- shaky.
The door creaks open behind her --
Lilly stands in the threshold, carrying two steaming mugs --
oversized and mismatched.
LILLY
Hot cocoa with extra courage.
She steps in, handing one to Riley.
Their fingers brush -- Riley’s are still shaking.
RILEY
Thanks. Just what I needed.
LILLY
Yeah. Me too.
They sip. For a breath, there’s silence. A warmth.
Lilly eyes the corkboard. Points to a photo.
LILLY (CONT'D)
Rush Week freshman year. Right?
RILEY
Yeah.
Riley plucks the photo --
INSERT: She and Lilly, two years younger, arms around each
other, faces half-painted with glitter and Greek letters, mid-
laugh.
RILEY (CONT'D)
God. We look like feral camp
counselors.
LILLY (LAUGHING)
That was the night you dared
Chelsea to chug a Natty Light
through a Twizzler.
RILEY
And she tried. Twice.
LILLY
And threw up on Brooke’s Uggs.
They laugh -- unguarded for a moment.
Then it fades -- slowly, gently.
LILLY (CONT'D)
I miss that. When everything still
felt... possible.
Riley leans against the edge of the dresser, cradling her mug
with both hands.
RILEY
Back when we thought being here
would make us new people. Better
versions of ourselves.
Lilly studies Riley’s face.
LILLY
You never really bought into any of
it, did you?
Riley sits on the bed, glancing at the corkboard.
RILEY
No. I kept thinking that if I kept
going, I’d change into a new,
healthy person, eventually... but I
still live life looking over my
shoulder -- trying to stay hidden.
A heavy beat. Lilly sits beside her, quiet.
LILLY
I know what it’s like -- hiding the
cracks. Wondering if people would
stay if they saw the truth.
Then --
Laughter from below.
Both girls look down.
LILLY (CONT'D)
Should we go check on Brooke and
Chelsea?
They laugh.
RILEY
Yeah, before they burn the house
down.
Lilly finishes the last sip of cocoa -- sets the mug down.
They stand and step out into the hallway.
The door swings SHUT behind them --
The lamp flickers.
A single moth clings to the mirror.
Its wings flutter once.
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The fire has dwindled to soft embers.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Brooke sips from a chipped
mug.
Lounging across the couch, Chelsea scrolls her phone with
practiced boredom.
Riley and Brooke shuffle into the room.
BROOKE
Look who’s back. The elusive ice
queens.
LILLY
(deadpan)
I was promised snacks. And only
mild judgment.
BROOKE
Snacks. Judgment. And now... fun.
She lifts an eyebrow -- pats the floor between them.
BROOKE (CONT'D)
Truth or Dare, bitches.
RILEY
Hard pass.
CHELSEA
Come on. You can survive one round.
BROOKE
You afraid we’ll uncover your deep,
dark secrets?
RILEY
Not in the mood for performative
trauma.
BROOKE
You start, Riley. Truth or dare.
RILEY
I said I wasn’t playing.
CHELSEA
Dare it is.
BROOKE
Them’s the rules. Social contract.
Girl code.
Riley exhales. Defeated.
RILEY
Fine. Dare.
BROOKE
Ohhh, spicy.
Chelsea leans forward, eyes bright.
CHELSEA
We dare you to tell us... your
biggest secret.
RILEY
That’s not a dare. That’s truth
with extra steps.
BROOKE
Fine. Then you pick the dare.
Awkward silence.
RILEY
Let’s play something else. There’s
board games in the basement.
LILLY
The basement? Are you trying to get
murdered?
CHELSEA
Nope. Mold, rats, ghosts. Hard
pass.
Riley shrugs.
RILEY
I'll go alone, then.
She moves toward the hall.
BROOKE
Hold up.
She stands, mock-heroic.
BROOKE (CONT'D)
What kind of friend lets her sister
face the basement alone?
CHELSEA
A practical one.
Riley opens the basement door --
Cold air spills out like a whisper.
Riley descends first, followed by Brooke.
Darkness swallows them.
The basement bulb flickers -- like something watching.
TICK. TICK. TICK.
The grandfather clock resumes its steady rhythm.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
The Haunting Discovery
INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT
Old wooden steps groan under Riley and Brooke as they
descend, one slow step at a time.
The air is cold. Wet. Heavy.
RILEY
Smells like a crawlspace.
Brooke’s beam slides across moth-eaten sorority banners --
They hang like peeling skin -- the once-bright Greek letters
now flaked away.
BROOKE
This is where people die in horror
movies.
Riley doesn’t respond. She stares ahead, brow furrowed.
The quiet down here feels wrong -- like the house itself is
holding its breath.
A faint CREAK echoes from somewhere deeper in the dark.
Brooke freezes.
Riley sweeps her flashlight over a row of broken trophies and
toppled pedestals.
Then --
RING.
A sudden CLANG -- metal striking metal — rattles from
somewhere near the back.
Brooke flinches.
BROOKE (CONT'D)
Jesus! What was --
Riley raises a hand -- listens.
Nothing but stillness.
Then -- something else.
A slow shift of air, almost like breath... rises from the
back corner of the basement.
They follow it. Reluctantly.
Riley’s flashlight beam hits something tucked beneath a
workbench --
A weathered trunk.
Black leather. Warped and bloated in places.
Its hinges cling to the wood like bones under stretched skin.
A thin mist seeps from a crack in the lid, curling along the
floor.
Brooke plants her feet --
BROOKE (CONT'D)
Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
Riley, drawn like a moth, crouches.
RILEY
Something wants us to open that
trunk.
Her hand reaches for the lid -- hesitates -- then forces it
open.
Inside —
A pile of vintage board games, half-collapsed by time and
humidity --
“Mall Mayhem.”
“Guess Your Future.”
“Glamour or Doom.”
All bright colors turned gray with age.
She slides a few aside. Reaches deeper.
Something there seems to shift — like something settling into
her palm.
She stops – breath catches.
Her finger brushes something smooth -- cold.
She pulls --
A black box emerges — sleek, almost untouched by time, its
lacquered surface gleaming like onyx.
Riley freezes.
BROOKE
What... what is that?
Riley says nothing — can’t look away from it.
She exhales -- turns it toward the light, revealing --
Neon pink lettering.
Perfectly engraved.
Pristine.
“DREAM BOY.”
The basement seems to tilt.
A low vibration creeps up through the cement -- like a
subwoofer with no sound.
A HUM grows louder. Subtle. Metallic. Like a far-off phone
ringing underwater.
Riley’s hand trembles. She swallows hard.
BROOKE (CONT'D)
Dream Boy... what the fuck?
Riley doesn’t respond. Her knuckles go white around the box.
Brooke takes half a step back -- fear hollowing her face.
RILEY
Let’s give it a try, yeah?
The HUM deepens.
A pulse. A heartbeat.
The box is waiting.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
The Dream Boy Game
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The storm rages outside, snow hurling against the windows
like claws.
On the coffee table in the center --
The black lacquered box.
Cracked, pink neon letters glint faintly --
“DREAM BOY.”
Riley sets it down.
The air seems to shift around it -- dense, charged.
RILEY
It felt like... like it wanted us
to find it.
Chelsea flips the lid --
INSIDE THE BOX
- A pastel-pink folding board, decorated with lipstick kisses
and cartoon hearts.
- A deck of glossy photo cards -- handsome young men in ‘80s
glam lighting.
- A bubblegum-pink cordless phone, its plastic cracked with
age.
- A single, yellowed rule card, tucked beneath the board.
BROOKE
Okay, who’s ready to summon their
future boyfriend?
Chelsea’s already shuffling through the photo cards.
CHELSEA
Me. Duh.
She fans through them --
The light flickers across their glossy smiles.
But the faces are wrong --
Flat eyes. Sharp teeth. Charm like paint.
CHELSEA (CONT'D)
They don’t look normal.
BROOKE
So... Tinder.
Riley picks up the rule card.
INSERT RULE CARD:
THE RULES
ONCE THE GAME IS STARTED, IT MUST BE FINISHED.
CHOOSE YOUR DREAM BOY, AND WAIT FOR HIS CALL.
ANSWER BEFORE THE FOURTH RING.
DO NOT HANG UP BEFORE HE DOES.
WIN WHEN YOUR DREAM BOY CALLS TWICE.
The ink shivers faintly -- as though the letters are
breathing.
RILEY
(reading)
“The rules. Once the game is
started, it must be finished.
Choose your dream boy, and wait for
his call. Answer before the fourth
ring. Don't hang up before he does.
Win when your dream boy calls
twice.
The house creaks, wood flexing in the walls.
CHELSEA
(mocking)
“Finish the game once started.” So
mysterious.
BROOKE
Who writes this shit?
LILLY
So... No more than three rings.
Never hang up. Win when he calls
twice. Got it.
CHELSEA
Alright. I’m bored. First victim --
me.
She flips a card dramatically --
A boy’s smoldering grin stares up --
Dark hair, leather jacket, eyes too knowing -- GARY.
CHELSEA (CONT'D)
Okay, Gary. Try to keep up.
BROOKE
Gary looks like he owns a
switchblade and a mixtape of red
flags.
CHELSEA
My type.
Chelsea sets Gary’s card on the board.
Lilly flips her card next --
Her “Dream Boy” has blond curls, a smug grin -- ZANE.
LILLY
Of course he’s named Zane.
Brooke flips over her card.
BROOKE
I’m calling dibs on Dean.
Riley hesitates.
Finally, she turns her card --
A clean-cut, kind-faced boy smiles back -- EDDIE.
RILEY
He looks safe.
CHELSEA
And boring.
Riley tries to smile.
Suddenly, the card ripples.
Edges blur. Eddie’s face flickers into --
ETHAN. Lips thin. Eyes hollow --
Riley’s breath catches.
She blinks. She looks again --
Eddie’s gentle smile stares back at her.
LILLY
Riley? You okay?
Riley forces calm.
RILEY
Yeah. Fine.
BROOKE
So, what now? Just wait for these
dream boys to call?
CHELSEA
Maybe they’ll sext from the
afterlife.
BROOKE
Or show up with bad poetry and
trauma.
The girls laugh. The lights flicker.
The house groans from every wall and beam.
RING.
Harsh. Metallic. A shriek that cuts through the room.
The pink phone trembles.
Everyone freezes.
CHELSEA
No fucking way.
Chelsea looks around, dumbfounded.
RILEY
Answer it.
LILLY
It’s probably some built-in sound
effect or timer thing.
She picks up the phone and lifts it to her ear, tense.
CHELSEA
Hello?
Silence.
Then --
A voice -- smooth, intimate --
GARY (V.O.)
Hello, Chelsea.
Chelsea plays along.
CHELSEA
Wait. How do you know my name?
GARY (V.O.)
When was the last time someone
looked at you, Chelsea?
Really looked. Past the skin. Past
the smile.
Her smirk falters. The others exchange looks.
CHELSEA
Stop. This isn't funny.
GARY (V.O.)
You wanted to be seen -- now I
can’t stop watching.
Gary’s laugh filters through -- low, intimate -- then splits
into multiple voices, layered, whispering her name.
Chelsea doesn't move.
Silence engulfs the room.
A breath catches in her throat.
She blinks hard.
Then --
HANGS UP.
The silence is enormous.
RILEY
You're not supposed to hang up. You
broke the rules.
LILLY
What did he say?
Chelsea, pale and shaking, doesn’t answer.
BROOKE
It was a recording, right? Like an
Easter-egg thing?
Before anyone can respond --
A bright flood of headlights sweeps across the windows --
White glare cuts through the dark like a blade.
The girls flinch, shielding their eyes.
RILEY
Who the hell would be driving in
this weather?
Chelsea exhales, relief flooding in fast -- armor snapping
back into place.
CHELSEA
See? Not haunted. Just fashionably
rescued.
BROOKE
Probably the campus police checking
in on us.
LILLY
Be careful. Who knows what's out
there.
Chelsea rolls her eyes -- strides toward the door.
Then --
POP.
The lights die.
Instant darkness.
The hum of the heater cuts out.
RILEY
(whisper)
Did the power just --
Her cell buzzes to life in her hand -- the screen flashes “NO
SERVICE.”
Outside --
Headlights blink once. Twice.
Then they vanish -- swallowed by the storm.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
Whispers in the Blizzard
INT. FOYER - NIGHT
The blizzard roars outside, shaking the house.
The girls huddle near the front door, flashlights in hand.
Breath fogs the air.
LILLY
(whispers)
I don’t... hear a car.
Chelsea steps forward, pressing her palm against the
doorknob.
Riley stiffens. Her instincts scream.
RILEY
Chelsea... don’t.
Chelsea hesitates, breath trembling.
Then — hand shaking — she twists the knob, pulling the door
open --
A BLAST of freezing wind and snow tears into the foyer.
The girls SHRIEK, shielding themselves, flashlight beams
scattering.
The wind dies suddenly. Quiet returns — unnatural. In the
doorway stands—
No one.
Just a snow-covered porch, silent and pure white.
Chelsea’s flashlight cuts across something at the threshold –
A single red rose, frozen through, lying in a perfect patch
of untouched snow.
A drop of melted water trickles down the stem — like blood
along a blade.
Lilly bends down, drawn and terrified.
Her hand reaches out. She pauses, fingers hovering.
RILEY (CONT'D)
Please don’t touch --
Lilly lifts the rose.
A whisper leaks into the foyer — a voice thinner than the
wind, yet unmistakably close --
VOICE (O.S.)
I see you.
Chelsea drops the rose, stumbles backward into Brooke.
The girls huddle together, eyes wide.
Riley slams the door shut. Locks it.
The girls stare, horrified.
Silence drops like a curtain.
No one breathes.
BROOKE
(tiny voice)
Anyone else... starving?
The others stare at her, too scared to laugh.
CHELSEA
I need wine. Now.
They float toward the kitchen, long shadows sliding behind
them.
IN THE ENTRYWAY GLASS
Two glowing YELLOW EYES bloom in the blackness.
Blinking.
Watching.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
Snowpocalypse Secrets
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
An LED lantern hums on the counter, its glow cold and blue.
The girls huddle around the island --
Bundled in blankets, drinking wine from chipped mugs, and
eating ice cream straight from the carton.
Chelsea raises her spoon.
CHELSEA
To the snowpocalypse. May we freeze
in style.
RILEY
That’s the spirit.
Lilly leans in.
LILLY
Have you ever heard the story about
the sisters who went missing in
nineteen-seventy-five?
Chelsea rolls her eyes.
CHELSEA
Oh no. Here we go.
LILLY
I’m serious. Blizzard conditions
just like this. Three sisters just
--
(snaps)
Vanished.
The wind rises outside -- long, hollow, almost answering her.
RILEY
They never found them?
LILLY
Nope. Not a trace. Just... gone.
CHELSEA
Please. Like I said, every sorority
house is haunted and has ghost
stories. Probably just flunked out
and ran off with some guys.
A floral scent seeps in --
Faint, powdery... rotted.
Chelsea sniffs.
CHELSEA (CONT'D)
Ugh. Do you smell that?
BROOKE
Like... funeral home chic?
They go still. Silent.
LILLY
My mom was a sister here. That’s
how I heard the story.
The others look at her.
CHELSEA
When?
LILLY
Nineteen-eighty. Five years after
the blizzard. She said people
didn’t talk about it. Not really.
But everyone knew something
happened.
Heavy silence fills the room. The lantern flickers.
RILEY
You’re messing with us.
LILLY
I’m not. She told me their bodies
were never found.
(beat)
One of them was named... Jane
Dawkins.
The sound of the name seems to hang in the air.
Somewhere deep in the house, a floorboard GROANS.
CHELSEA
Jane Dawkins. Sure. And I’m the
Virgin Mary of Kappa Tau.
RILEY
If that's true, Sue’s face -- and
theirs -- would have composites on
the Chapter room wall.
BROOKE
Then let's go look.
The lantern flickers again -- longer this time, then
steadies.
CHELSEA
You can go play Nancy Drew. I need
to pee before my bladder joins the
missing.
Chelsea straightens her blanket like a cape -- strides out.
Her footsteps echo down the hallway, fading into the silence.
Frost creeps up the kitchen windows. Slow. Deliberate.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
Reflections of Terror
INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT
Chelsea shuts the door behind her with a SNAP -- sets her
lantern on the sink --
Its bluish glow makes her skin look waxy -- like a mannequin.
CHELSEA
Ugh. I look like shit.
She leans toward the mirror -- rubs her cheeks.
Her reflection WINKS.
Chelsea squeezes her eyes shut.
She opens them --
Back to normal.
CHELSEA (CONT'D)
Cute. Real cute.
She forces a smile. Smooths her hair.
Her reflection doesn’t move -- it smiles faintly. Too still.
The reflection’s complexion dulls --
Wrinkles spiderweb across its skin.
Chelsea stumbles back.
CHELSEA (CONT'D)
What the fuck --
The reflection leans closer to the glass.
REFLECTION (V.O.)
(deep, masculine)
What happens when they stop looking
at you, Chelsea?
The lantern flickers. The temperature drops.
Chelsea’s breath fogs out in white clouds.
She turns the faucet --
It splutters -- then gushes thick water, tinged red,
splattering her hands.
Chelsea recoils.
CHELSEA
No... no, no --
The mirror fogs over.
A phrase scrawls itself into the condensation, written by an
unseen finger --
“I SEE YOU.”
Chelsea steps back -- her entire body trembles.
Two handprints press from inside the glass -- the surface
bulging like skin.
Her reflection looks forty years older now --
Sagging skin, yellowed teeth. Hair falling out in wet clumps
into the sink.
Glass bulges wider --
A face PUSHES through --
The handsome face of GARY appears. Perfect jawline. Dreamy
eyes. Radiant smile.
Suddenly, his mouth splits open to reveal --
Rows of jagged, glistening teeth.
GARY
(soft, hungry)
With me, you’ll never wrinkle.
You’ll be beautiful... forever.
Chelsea lunges for the door, pulling at the knob --
It’s locked.
Her wrinkled doppelgänger pounds the glass from the inside,
grinning with rotten gums.
Gary has vanished.
Her reflection reaches through --
A withered hand shoots out -- wraps around her wrist.
Her skin withers instantly.
Veins blacken. Wrinkles spread up her arm.
Chelsea claws at the door with her free hand.
CHELSEA
Help! Help!
The mirror sucks her in --
INSIDE THE MIRROR
Chelsea thrashes in a black void surrounded by floating
faces.
Mouths flicker fast. Wrong. Eyes glowing faint yellow.
BACK TO BATHROOM
Chelsea PLOPS back out of the mirror, looks at her reflection
--
Inhuman now. Sagging. Skeletal.
The reflection grins back, still tugging at Chelsea.
Then, with a final, glassy suck --
The mirror swallows Chelsea.
The mirror ripples once --
Smooths into a pristine reflection of an empty bathroom.
The lantern dies with a POP.
Then -- silence.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
Whispers of the Past
INT. CHAPTER ROOM - NIGHT
Heavy oak doors swing open --
Riley, Brooke, and Lilly step inside, their lanterns casting
cones of pale light.
A mausoleum.
Velvet drapes. Oak table.
Smiling girls stare from the walls.
BROOKE
I’ve always hated this room.
Hundreds of smiling faces trapped
in sepia. Feels like they're --
RILEY
-- Watching you.
Brooke shines her light across a wall of composite photos
framed in gold.
Riley moves slowly down the line, studying each composite.
The glass reflects their lanterns, doubling their faces with
the frozen smiles of past sisters.
Riley stops.
The plaque -- “1975.”
Riley leans in --
Three girls in the middle row have had their faces scratched
out violently.
The name beneath one of the scratched-out faces -- JANE
DAWKINS.
Beside them, untouched, is someone familiar.
Dark hair. Piercing eyes. A faint, knowing smile -- SUE.
Riley recoils, breath catching.
RILEY (CONT'D)
(whispers)
There she is...
Riley points. Brooke and Lilly lean in.
BROOKE
Holy shit. There’s Sue.
LILLY
Those girls with the scratched-out
faces are the missing ones. Look --
Lilly points to the name “Jane Dawkins.”
The air drops colder.
In a corner of the room, half-swallowed by the dark --
A figure lingers. Still. Watching. Its eyes glimmer yellow.
The girls remain transfixed on the 1975 composite.
Suddenly, the glass of the frame CRACKS down the middle.
WHISPERS bleed from the walls -- overlapping, feminine,
endless.
WHISPERS (O.S.)
Every fifty years...
Brooke steps back, jaw tense.
BROOKE
Alright, I’m done playing detective
for tonight.
Riley reaches out to steady her.
Then --
RING.
The pink phone shrieks from the living room --
Its metallic clang echoes through the house.
The whispers choke off.
Silence.
RING.
Brooke stares at Riley, terrified but resigned.
BROOKE (CONT'D)
My turn.
The girls bolt out of the Chapter Room, lanterns swinging
wildly.
The sound of the blizzard outside surges like laughter.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
The Haunting Call
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The girls burst in, clutching their lanterns.
The pink phone waits on the coffee table -- glowing faintly.
RING.
The sound reverberates unnaturally through the house, like
it’s coming from inside the walls.
RING.
Brooke lurches forward and snatches the phone --
On the FOURTH RING.
She presses it to her ear.
Silence...
Then --
A LAUGH TRACK.
Artificial, canned LAUGHTER rises and falls like an old
sitcom. Tinny. Mocking.
Brooke is tense.
BROOKE
Hello?...
The laughter swells, looping and overlapping until it becomes
distorted.
Brooke SLAMS the phone down and clutches her chest, shaken.
LILLY
What did he say to you?
BROOKE
Just... laughing. A room full of
it.
Riley stares, realization dawning.
RILEY
You picked up after the fourth
ring.
BROOKE
So?
RILEY
The rules said -- don't pick up
after the third ring. t
Brooke bristles.
BROOKE
Whatever. It’s a stupid game.
Riley flips the game box.
Underside -- polished wood. Scratched.
Riley’s fingers find carved initials --
"S.W. 1975."
The letters are jagged, carved with a knife.
Riley’s breath catches. Her thumb traces the letters.
A chill seems to rise from the carving itself.
LILLY
Where's Chelsea?
Silence follows. The girls hold completely still, listening.
The room seems to creak under its own weight. The lights
flicker.
A realization hits all three at once -- a shared internal
shudder.
BROOKE
She’s probably just... I don’t
know, fixing her lip gloss or --
some stupid Chelsea thing—
Riley steps toward the stairs, jaw tight, eyes cutting
through the dark.
RILEY
I’m going up there.
Brooke snaps into motion — not with confidence, but panic.
BROOKE
Nope. We don’t need to—no one needs
to. We stay down here. Stay
together. I’m not going anywhere.
Riley exhales hard, annoyed, scared.
Lilly edges closer to the game board, staring at the glowing
pink phone.
LILLY
I... I don’t want to miss my turn.
RILEY
Something is wrong. We go together.
No one’s splitting off. Not now.
A dragging noise echoes from upstairs — like fabric scraping
floorboards.
The girls freeze.
Lilly’s eyes flick to the staircase — long shadows coil
there, like fingers reaching down.
LILLY
Okay. Okay... you’re right.
But Brooke shrinks back — shaking her head. She clutches her
phone like a lifeline she knows won’t help.
BROOKE
I’ll... just wait here. If she
comes back down — someone should be
here. Right?
(beat)
I’m not going up those stairs.
The storm rattles another window. A low boom shakes the
house.
Riley shifts her gaze to Lilly — nodding once, firm.
RILEY
Lil. Let’s go.
Lilly swallows hard, but nods. She picks up her phone-light —
shaking. Riley raises hers.
Brooke sinks into the sofa, hugging a throw pillow,
Her eyes dart between the hallway and the stairs -- every
corner now a mouth of shadows.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
17 -
Unlocking the Unknown
INT. STAIRCASE - NIGHT
The staircase groans as they climb, flashlights swinging.
Their shadows stretch -- warping across peeling wallpaper.
RILEY
Chelsea...?
Only the wind answers, whistling through unseen cracks.
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
They move down the hallway. Cautious.
Beams play across rows of closed doors --
LILLY
Chelsea?
Each one feels like an eye -- shut but watching.
A door sits slightly ajar --
The bathroom.
Riley hesitates, then nudges it open --
Inside --
Sparkling clean. Porcelain gleaming.
Riley closes the door --
The latch CLICKS unnaturally loudly.
Then --
The hallway leans inward. Narrow. Press.
The girls freeze.
Then --
The hallway snaps back to normal.
They go deeper down the hall -- stop.
The door in front of them --
Bigger. Older.
A seam of light bleeds underneath --
With it comes a chill that smells of rotting roses.
Riley turns the knob -- it's locked.
RILEY
Shit.
LILLY
What are you doing? Chelsea
wouldn't be in Sue's room. I mean --
not even maintenance goes in there.
Brooke looks at Lilly -- her brow furrows.
BROOKE
Exactly.
RILEY
I get the feeling whatever's going
on right now starts and ends with
Sue.
Riley steels herself -- pulls out her STUDENT ID.
She slides the plastic into the lock.
SCRAPE... SCRAPE...
The ID card rasps against metal.
BROOKE
Oh damn. You go, girl.
The wallpaper twitches with each push.
Finally --
CLICK.
The echo shudders down the hall like a gunshot.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
18 -
The Haunting Revelation
INT. SUE'S ROOM - NIGHT
Riley pushes the door open -- a lantern beam cuts through the
gloom.
The room is immaculate --
Lace curtains pinned stiff.
A canopy bed with sheets pressed flat.
An antique vanity gleams -- silver brushes laid out with
surgical precision.
The air is dense. Damp.
The smell of wilted roses chokes the room.
The group edges in, breath hitching.
Riley crouches by the nightstand -- slides the drawer open --
Empty.
She frowns -- turns her gaze to the wooden floor beside the
bed --
One floorboard is warped -- uneven.
She kneels by it -- pries it up with her fingernails.
The wood splinters, snapping loose.
Inside --
A BLACK-BOUND BOOK. Cracked leather. Slick. Sweating.
Riley lifts it --
She opens it with shaking hands.
On the page --
Sigils writhe. Ink spirals. In the margins -- Names. Dates.
Riley flips the page --
“Every 50 years, Asmodeus feeds.”
RILEY
(to herself)
Asmodeus...
She flips to the next page --
INSERT: Hand-drawn page.
At the center, a hand-inked illustration of a demon with
three heads -- one of a bull, one of a man with jagged teeth
spitting fire, and one of a goat.
Ink blotches crawl outward from his form, warping the page as
if the illustration itself is rotting through the paper.
Beneath the drawing, written in jagged, looping script that
looks carved more than penned:
“HAIR OPENS THE DOOR."
The text pulses faintly — a shimmering oil-slick sheen.
As Riley’s finger hovers over the page, one of the letters
shifts — liquefies — then settles back into place.
Silence seems to deepen around her.
Riley shuts the book -- a yellowed newspaper clipping slips
free --
Lilly picks it up off the floor.
The headline reads, “Still No Answers for Three Missing
Sorority Sisters.”
Beneath the headline --
Black-and-white portraits of the three missing girls -- Jane
Dawkins. Chrissy Salters. Meghan Siebert.
LILLY
See, I told you --
The wallpaper BULGES.
A FACE presses outward --
Cheeks, nose, mouth, mid-scream.
They freeze -- eyes full of terror -- then lurch for the
door, SLAMMING it behind them.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
19 -
The Nightmarish Performance
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Brooke sits alone on the couch, arms wrapped around her
knees.
The pink phone hums steadily on the table.
She stares at it...
Then --
CLICK.
The TV flickers on by itself --
Static fizzes across the screen.
Slowly, an image bleeds through --
A COMEDY CLUB. Red velvet curtains. Smoke haze. A single mic
glows in a white-hot spotlight.
Onstage -- DEAN.
He's perfect -- teeth gleaming like knives.
DEAN (ON TV)
Ladies and gentlemen... your
headliner tonight -- Brooke Jacobs!
A CANNED LAUGH TRACK detonates. Tinny, metallic, wrong.
The laughter doesn’t come from the TV --
It rattles from the walls.
Brooke flinches -- clutches her stomach.
BROOKE
No. This isn’t real.
The LAUGHTER swells, pounding in her skull.
She clamps her hands over her ears -- but it’s inside her.
DEAN (ON TV)
Come on, Brooke. Give us a joke,
darling.
The mic SQUEALS with feedback.
Brooke opens her mouth --
Nothing. Her throat clenches shut.
DEAN (ON TV) (CONT'D)
Oh, Brooke, you’re bombing already.
The laugh track ERUPTS again. Violent. Jagged.
Brooke jerks -- an involuntary laugh rips from her throat
like a muscle spasm.
Then another.
She doubles over, laughter pouring from her in convulsions.
BROOKE
(through laughter)
Stop -- I can’t --
Her face spasms.
Her lips split at the corners --
Blood dribbles down her chin.
The living room walls DISSOLVE --
The furniture melts away --
Replaced by rows of SHADOW-FACED MEN -- pounding tables.
Their LAUGHTER shakes the air, vibrating her ribs.
DEAN (ON TV)
That’s it. Let it out.
Brooke stumbles back, tears streaking through her smeared
makeup.
The shadows in the crowd lean forward, their mouths
stretching wider than humanly possible.
Their laughter changes pitch -- morphs into SCREAMS disguised
as guffaws.
Brooke’s body lurches with each laugh.
Her jaw twitches like a puppet on strings.
CRACK.
Her jaw SNAPS slightly wider.
A tooth rattles free, bouncing across the floorboards.
BROOKE
Please, stop -- please --
SHADOW AUDIENCE (V.O.)
(chanting in rhythm)
Brooke! Brooke! Brooke!
Dean steps closer to the TV screen.
His smile glimmers unnaturally wide.
DEAN (ON TV)
I’ve got a joke, Brooke. Wanna hear
it?
The audience ROARS.
Dean presses his palm against the screen --
The glass RIPPLES like liquid.
Then --
Dean’s face PEELS THROUGH,
Static clings to him.
His arms reach through -- followed by the rest of him.
He stands up --
Tall. Radiant. Monstrous.
Brooke collapses to her knees, trembling.
BROOKE
No. No, please...
Dean crouches, cupping her chin with mock tenderness.
His thumb smears blood across her cheek like lipstick.
DEAN
What do you call a girl who hides
behind jokes?
The laugh track multiplies, filling every inch of space --
High-pitched. Low-pitched. Distorted.
Laughter drips from the ceiling. Seeps up from the
floorboards.
Brooke convulses.
Her jaw cracks wider, spraying more blood.
Her tongue lolls, twitches.
Dean leans close, breath steaming.
DEAN (CONT'D)
(whispering)
A punchline.
The living room BLINKS --
Suddenly, Brooke is ON STAGE.
Spotlight blisters her skin.
The faceless audience leans forward in silence.
Their mouths gape, expectant. Hundreds of them.
Brooke stares into the void of faces, sobbing.
BROOKE
Please. I’m not funny. I’m not --
The audience ERUPTS into laughter.
Her jaw cracks wider -- UNHINGES.
Blood sprays across the mic.
Her laugh is now a howl.
The microphone sprouts wires -- coiling around her arms like
snakes -- yanking her upright.
The stand fuses into her skin, anchoring her in place.
Her lips tear into a permanent smile.
Blood sheets down her throat.
Her chest trembles like a speaker.
Dean wraps his arm around her shoulders.
His eyes burn yellow. Teeth long. Animal.
DEAN
Ladies and gentlemen. Give her a
hand!
The faceless audience rises, CLAPPING.
Brooke’s body goes limp, dangling from the mic -- jaw
grotesquely split into a rictus grin.
The shadows howl in a standing ovation.
BACK TO LIVING ROOM
The TV flickers with static.
The pink phone hums louder, pulsing with hunger.
On the rug --
Brooke lies slumped, lifeless.
Lips torn.
Frozen in a monstrous grin.
CANNED LAUGHTER plays faintly from the now-dead TV.
The floorboards beneath Brooke's flex.
They soften, warping around her form like heated wax.
CREAK. POP.
The boards split -- dark and wet underneath.
Brooke's torso tilts, sliding.
Her face -- the last thing visible -- is pulled downward,
swallowed by the contracting wood.
The house exhales. The room falls still.
Then --
Silence.
Genres:
["Horror","Psychological Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
20 -
The Haunting Call
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Riley and Lilly burst into the room -- panicked.
RILEY
Brooke? Chelsea?
LILLY
Guys?
The lantern light flickers.
RING.
Riley and Lilly exchange looks -- uneasy.
RILEY
It's your turn, Lilly.
RING.
BROOKE
Pick it up.
Lilly hesitates, then picks up -- clutching the pink phone to
her ear like a talisman.
Her hands shake.
LILLY
(whisper)
Hello?
Static. Nothing.
LILLY (CONT'D)
Hello?...
A soft, syrupy male voice blooms in the tiny room, velvet and
too intimate.
ZANE (V.O.)
Lilly... at last.
Lilly freezes.
LILLY
Zane?
ZANE (V.O.)
I’ve been watching you, Lilly.
They all look right through you.
But I see you. I've always seen
you.
The lanterns flicker. The whole room tightens.
LILLY
Stop. You don’t know me.
ZANE (V.O.)
Wouldn’t you like to be
unforgettable?
On the coffee table, the game board shudders.
RILEY
(to Lilly)
Don’t answer it. Don’t give it
anything.
Lilly rocks back, fingers clenching the receiver.
LILLY
Please... just -- go away.
ZANE (V.O.)
I can make them look. I can make
them see you.
The receiver hums.
A tiny vibration crawls up Lilly’s palm like an insect.
Suddenly, the cradle on the phone BUBBLES.
The plastic surface ripples like water -- a soft, wet
slurping sound.
RILEY
What the -- ?
The lacquered surface of the receiver bulges, then SPLITS --
A slick and impossibly HUMAN HAND pushes out --
The fingers are too perfect, nails manicured, but the skin
has an unnatural translucence.
Lilly stares, repulsed.
ZANE (V.O.)
Here I am.
The hand flexes, reaching.
Riley lunges to grab the pink phone -- too late.
The hand wraps around Lilly’s face, cupping her cheeks with
impossible warmth.
Lilly’s mouth opens in a soundless cry as the palm presses
against her lips, pushing, urging.
LILLY
Riley -- !
Riley rips at the receiver --
The hand won’t let go.
Its grip -- ice-cold. Sticky. Impossible.
The phone’s hum deepens into a subterranean THROB.
Lilly’s head tilts forward -- nearly nose-first toward the
handset as if drawn by a magnet.
RILEY
Name it. Own it. It’s not real.
The hand jerks, surprised.
Lilly chokes. Pulls the hand free.
LILLY
(gasping)
It's not real.
For a heartbeat, it trembles.
The fingers lose their easy intimacy and clamp tighter in
panic.
SUE (V.O.)
Finish the game.
Riley grabs a wine glass -- smashes it against the coffee
table with a single, sharp strike.
The sudden CRASH throws the room into fractured sound.
Riley grabs a large glass shard -- slices the hand deeply.
The hand recoils.
Blackish fluid beads emerge from the wound.
Riley tears the phone from Lilly's hand --
The hand snaps back with a wet POP --
Vanishes into the phone with an awful suction noise.
Riley drops the phone.
It hits the ground. Pulses. Angry.
RILEY
I'm ending this right now. Let's
burn it.
RILEY (CONT'D)
What if that doesn’t work?
LILLY
Yeah, let's burn the motherfucker.
On the table, the game box seems to pulse, patient and
hungry.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
21 -
The Unyielding Curse
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Riley staggers forward, clutching the black lacquered game
box.
Lilly stands right behind her.
Riley hurls the box into the roaring fireplace --
LILLY
Burn. Bitch.
The lacquered wood box curls in the fire. Flames leap.
The pink phone sizzles, its plastic dripping into a glossy
puddle.
The fire ROARS higher, unnaturally bright.
Blue and white tongues crackle like screams.
LILLY (CONT'D)
It’s working.
They lean in -- breathless -- the glow dancing across their
faces.
RILEY
Don’t look away.
They don’t. They can’t.
Spellbound, they watch as the box warps and crumbles.
Then --
A low HUM.
Deep. Inhuman -- vibrating the air.
The girls whirl around --
On the coffee table --
The Dream Boy box. Pristine. Untouched.
The pink phone sits neatly in its cradle, pulsing faintly --
like a heartbeat.
Behind them --
The fireplace -- empty. Flames gone. Cold ashes swirl in the
grate.
LILLY
No. No... how is this happening?
Her eyes brim with tears.
She takes a stumbling step back, bumping into the coffee
table.
LILLY (CONT'D)
There has to be a way to outsmart
this thing.
RILEY
I think there's some answers in
here.
Riley holds up Sue’s black leather book.
She flips it open --
Pages crawl with sigils that shift under the lantern light --
like living things.
The ink drips fresh, like the entry was just written.
RILEY (CONT'D)
(whispers)
“Nineteen twenty-five. First
offering...”
The floorboards GROAN.
The walls shudder.
Brooke backs away from the table, wine glass wobbling in her
grip.
The wallpaper BULGES, swelling like lungs inhaling.
MATCH CUT TO:
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
The bulging wallpaper becomes velvet wallpaper under
gaslight.
Four women sit around a mahogany table.
At the head --
SUE (20s), radiant in black silk and pearls, eyes sharp.
On the table --
A black rotary phone and spirit board carved with strange
sigils.
SUE
Tonight. We call our boys home.
The women clasp hands.
EDITH (20s), quivering, lifts the receiver.
END FLASHBACK
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (BACK TO PRESENT)
The pink phone hums low -- vibrates the table.
Brooke flinches. Lilly hugs herself tight.
RILEY
(whispers)
It’s like it remembers.
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
The receiver hums in Edith’s hand. Low. Wet.
The planchette trembles, scrapes --
H-E-L-L-O.
EDITH
Joseph. It’s him.
The women sob in relief.
END FLASHBACK
INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS (BACK TO PRESENT)
Riley flips another brittle page --
The ink twists into a drawing of the rotary phone, wrapped in
strands of human hair.
She shudders.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
22 -
Echoes of the Past
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
The hum deepens into something guttural.
The planchette jerks violently, gouging splinters into the
board --
N-O-T J-O-S-E-P-H.
The trap door SLAMS shut.
Gaslight bulbs flare.
Shadows writhe.
EDITH
Sue -- it’s not them.
SUE
Hold the line. Do not break the
circle.
The rotary phone RINGS. Shrill. Unnatural.
The sound bleeds across --
INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY (PRESENT DAY)
The pink phone SHRIEKS on the board.
All three girls jolt.
Riley nearly drops the book.
LILLY
Riley, put it down!
Riley clutches it tighter.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
23 -
The Bargain in Shadows
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
Edith lifts the receiver to her ear.
EDITH
(into phone, whisper)
No... you can’t --
Her neck SNAPS --
A sharp CRACK.
Her body locks rigid.
Her hand is frozen on the receiver.
The circle breaks.
The photographs of soldiers on the wall ignite in flame.
The planchette rockets across the room like a dagger --
It embeds in plaster.
Two women SCREAM as shadows pour through the wallpaper --
dragging them backward into blackness.
Only Sue remains -- untouched.
Shadows curl lovingly around her shoulders like a shawl.
She presses the receiver to her ear with a faint, satisfied
smile.
SUE
(whispers)
Then we have a bargain.
The shadows lean closer -- coiling tighter -- whispering
through her hair like lovers breathing secrets.
The rotary phone glows from within, its dial spinning
backward on its own.
From the earpiece --
A voice, slick and inhuman -- LAUGHS.
The room warps.
Wallpaper melts into faces -- dozens of screaming mouths
pressed behind the walls.
Sue’s pearls snap -- scattering across the floor.
Blood beads at her lip -- but her smile never fades.
END FLASHBACK
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
24 -
The Whispering Game
INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS (PRESENT DAY)
The book vibrates in Riley’s hands. She forces it open --
Ink ripples across the page --
“Blood and hair restore. Blood and hair close the door."
The pink phone HUMS louder. Low. Steady.
RILEY
(under breath)
Blood and hair restore... Blood and
hair... close the door.
The storm outside stops for one horrific beat.
The silence is crushing.
The board pulses, glossy ink warping their reflections.
With an eerie calm, Riley moves toward the pink phone.
She picks it up -- unscrews the receiver. Careful,
deliberate.
BROOKE
Riley, don’t --
CLACK.
The panel drops --
A grotesque HAIR DOLL clumps out --
Blonde, brunette, auburn hair twisted tight. Eyes sewn shut.
The doll twitches. Its knotted mouth gapes open.
HAIR DOLL (V.O.)
(whisper, many voices)
I see you...
Riley flings it across the room --
The doll hits the floor -- convulses, then goes still.
A single hair strand snakes away, slipping between
floorboards.
RILEY
We didn’t find this game. This game
found us.
Heavy silence.
Then --
The pink phone HUMS louder.
Shadows writhe across the lace curtains.
Riley paces, clutching the book tight. Mind racing.
RILEY (CONT'D)
We have to go back to Sue’s room. I
think I know how to end this.
Lilly’s head snaps up.
LILLY
You’re kidding, right?
Riley’s eyes burn steady, calm.
RILEY
I need a piece of Sue. Her hair.
Brooke laughs once, brittle and sharp.
LILLY
Why?
RILEY
Her hair could close the door she
opened.
LILLY
Fine. I'm not staying here alone.
The pink phone pulses --
The hum a whispering moan.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
25 -
The Dark Ascent
INT. STAIRCASE - NIGHT
The staircase looms in front of Riley and Lilly, half-
swallowed by shadow.
Riley steadies the lantern; the glow trembles across the
banister -- wood slick with dampness.
They climb.
Each step groans.
Halfway up --
A violent gust roars down the stairwell, rattling the walls.
Riley clamps her hand around Lilly’s, pulling her up.
RILEY
Keep moving. Don’t look back.
From below --
A faint RING. Metallic, sharp.
LILLY
Riley, it’s your turn.
RILEY
Eddie can leave a message.
They climb faster.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
26 -
Whispers from the Mirror
INT. SUE'S ROOM - NIGHT
The door CREAKS open.
Riley and Lilly step inside, lantern light trembling.
Riley edges toward the vanity -- picks up a silver hairbrush.
Its bristles -- tangled with strands -- thick, matted, faded
blonde and brown woven together.
Riley shudders, clutching it tight.
Behind her --
The mirror FOGS. Condensation at first.
Then -- shapes emerge.
LILLY
Riley. Look.
In the mirror stand THREE GIRLS.
Dressed in faded sorority sweaters. Makeup perfect, hair
coiffed like a yearbook photo --
But their skin is pale, their eyes rimmed with deep shadows.
It's the missing 1975 girls -- JANE. CHRISSY. MEGHAN.
Staring. Haunted.
The girls’ mouths open -- yet no sound emerges.
Their lips form words like a chant -- but it's
undecipherable.
The mirror shivers with their breath.
Lilly clutches Riley’s arm.
LILLY (CONT'D)
What do they want?
The reflections’ mouths widen into smiles like wounds
splitting open across porcelain masks.
RILEY
I’m not sure if they want to help
us or hurt us.
Suddenly, Meghan lifts her hand in the mirror, pressing it
against the glass --
Her palm leaves a wet print on the inside.
Riley steps closer. She studies their faces, looking for
signs of malice or mercy.
Then --
Their smiles falter.
Their eyes shift -- not at Riley, but at something behind
her.
Riley whirls --
Nothing in the real room.
When she turns back --
The girls are closer.
Right against the glass.
Their teeth are faintly jagged now -- hair dripping with
black water.
The mirror HUMS. The glass ripples like water about to burst.
The girls speak in unison -- voices layered, echoing from the
walls --
1975 GIRLS (V.O.)
(whisper)
Join us...
The mirror spiderwebs with cracks. The reflections split --
Half-smiling, half-weeping, as if two wills are fighting
inside them.
Riley clutches the brush like a weapon.
She yanks Lilly back toward the door.
RILEY
Let’s head to my room.
Then --
The mirror goes smooth again. Empty.
Only their own frightened reflections remain.
Riley and Lilly stand frozen, breathing hard, then retreat
toward the door.
The mirror fogs once more.
The 1975 girls linger in the glass, watching, waiting.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
27 -
Captured in Fear
INT. RILEY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Riley and Lilly slip inside, slam the door behind them --
lock the door.
The room feels smaller than before -- its walls hum faintly.
Riley sets her lantern on the desk. The glow is pale --
watery.
Both girls slide to the floor, backs to the bed, breathing
hard.
For a long beat -- only their breathing and the moan of the
blizzard.
Riley pulls the silver hairbrush from her coat pocket.
She sits cross-legged, hands shaking, and begins teasing the
strands out, braiding them with trembling precision.
LILLY
You’re really doing this witchcraft
shit?
Riley keeps her eyes on the bristles, fingers working faster.
RILEY
Hair binds the living. Blood opens
the door.
LILLY
She started all this, didn’t she?
Riley doesn’t answer immediately.
She just keeps braiding, jaw tight.
RILEY
She made a bargain. And the house
kept her young.
The crude hair doll takes shape in her trembling hands.
Lilly edges closer.
LILLY
The game is going to keep coming
after us until we finish it... Hey,
Riley, can I ask you something?
RILEY
Yeah, anything.
LILLY
The scar on your neck. How'd you
get it?
Riley’s hands falter. The doll trembles in her grip.
RILEY
His name was Ethan...
Senior year. He’d... wait outside
my classes. Found my locker
combination. Started leaving me
notes. Photos. The kind you don’t
know are being taken until you see
yourself in them.
Lilly’s arms cross over herself, shivering.
RILEY (CONT'D)
I told the school. My mom. The
cops. No one took me seriously
until --
She pulls her collar down, revealing the jagged scar across
her neck.
RILEY (CONT'D)
Until the night he broke into my
room... and tried to kill me.
Lilly grips her arm, horrified.
Riley looks up, meeting Lilly’s eyes.
She dangles the hair doll from her hand --
It sways, crude and grotesque.
From somewhere in the vents --
A faint, muffled RING.
Both girls freeze.
Riley clutches the hair doll tighter, jaw set.
Riley stands -- moves to the desk.
The lantern flickers.
Then --
A faint CLICK behind her -- like a camera shutter.
She whirls --
Nothing.
Another click.
Suddenly --
POLAROIDS fall from the ceiling, one by one, like the house
is feeding them into the room.
They flutter to the floor.
Lilly picks one up --
INSERT: Riley in the library tonight.
Another drops.
INSERT: Riley standing in front of her mirror earlier, shirt
collar down, scar exposed.
Another.
INSERT: The two of them in this very room, right now, looking
down at the Polaroids.
Lilly drops the photo, backs up.
LILLY
Oh God, no. No.
Floorboards CREAK. Slow. Heavy.
Riley retreats -- all she can do is run.
She grabs Lilly’s arm as she bolts for the door.
Behind them --
Polaroids lift into the air, spiraling like birds -- snapping
more and more pictures as they flee --
FLASH!
FLASH!
FLASH!
A rising, high-pitched camera WHINE builds to distortion.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
28 -
Vanishing Shadows
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
Polaroids whirl mid-air, flashes etching ghost light into the
wallpaper.
Riley and Lilly rush down the hallway.
Riley tries a doorknob -- LOCKED.
Another -- LOCKED.
BREATHING. Heavy. Wet. Close.
Riley spins, her phone light slicing through the dark --
Nothing.
A door at the far end SLAMS open -- the echo shatters the
silence.
A WOMAN’S SILHOUETTE fills the glow.
SUE.
Still. Regal. Poise carved from ice.
Riley’s pulse spikes.
She turns to Lilly --
LILLY IS GONE.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
29 -
The Nightmarish Birthday
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The room sits in stillness.
Lilly bursts inside, panting -- breath steaming in the cold.
Her lantern flickers wildly, casting sickly pulses of green
and blue across the room.
The pink phone pulses, slow and steady -- a grotesque,
heartbeat rhythm.
Then --
A faint POP of balloons.
Music drifts in.
Not just music -- a party song, syrupy and too cheerful,
warped just slightly off-key.
Lilly hugs herself, teeth chattering.
LILLY
(whispering)
Guys...? Brooke? Riley...?
She edges deeper.
The living room SHIFTS --
Streamers sag overhead.
A banner unfurls, letters bleeding into view --
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LILLY!”
A table groans under cake and punch.
The punch bowl glows deep ruby, bubbles rising like blood.
Balloons sway gently, their latex faces drawn with smiles --
too wide.
The crowd arrives --
Phantom guests in vintage gowns and tuxes, all clapping at
once.
Their grins fixed, too many teeth -- their laughter skips
like broken records.
The smell hits her -- cheap perfume, spoiled frosting, sour
wine.
A PHANTOM GIRL brushes through Lilly, leaving behind a wet,
cold slick across her arm, like a slug trail.
LILLY (CONT'D)
Hey! Excuse you!
No response. Her voice evaporates into the warped party
track.
From the crowd -- he emerges --
ZANE. Handsome. Perfectly dressed in a tuxedo.
A rose in his lapel wilts and perks as he smiles. His eyes
glimmer faintly yellow.
The dancers part in sync, their heads swiveling unnaturally
to watch Lilly.
ZANE
There you are. The guest of honor.
He extends his hand. Warm. Solid.
LILLY
You -- you see me?
ZANE
Only you, Lilly.
He pulls her in. They sway.
The crowd CLAPS. Rhythmic. Mechanical -- like a hundred pairs
of hands slapping meat.
Zane spins her out -- raises her arm high like a pageant
queen.
ZANE (CONT'D)
Ladies and gentlemen... your
leading lady!
The crowd CHEERS -- but when they turn their faces toward her
--
Their eyes skip over her.
Look through her. Smile at empty air.
Zane leans in.
Kisses her cheek.
When he pulls back -- a strand of her hair dangles from his
teeth.
It glistens like spun sugar.
He chews it.
Slowly.
With relish.
ZANE (CONT'D)
Mm... Sweet. Just like I remember.
CONFETTI CANNONS POP --
But the falling shreds aren’t confetti.
They’re torn Polaroids --
Smiling mouths. Empty eyes.
Lilly’s name bleeds across a blank card.
She clutches it --
It melts between her fingers.
Ink streams down her wrist.
Her outline flickers, patches dissolving like film caught in
a projector.
LILLY
Riley, where are you?
The crowd encircles her --
Waxen. Smiling. Perfect.
They mime gift-giving, boxes wrapped in pale skin.
Ribbons twitch.
The lids flap open --
Inside --
Strips of her own skin, folded like ribbons. Each one faintly
breathes.
Lilly SCREAMS -- the crowd CLAPS.
The sound tears at her flesh.
A strip peels from her arm.
Then her cheek.
Her throat.
No blood.
No pain.
Only erasure.
She claws at her chest --
Her hands sink through -- grasping --
Nothing.
Her skin lifts away in perfect squares --
Paper-thin, fluttering upward like memories.
LILLY (CONT'D)
Stop this. Stop it!
ZANE
(soft, reverent)
You said you wanted to be
remembered. Now you’ll never fade
again.
He kisses her lips.
When he pulls back --
Her lips stay on his, tearing loose like wet petals.
He spits them aside, smiling wider.
Above them --
The banner writhes.
The letters twist, bleed, reform --
“GOODBYE, LILLY.”
Balloons POP -- one by one --
Each burst releases a tiny, human scream.
The crowd surges closer.
Zane gestures to them, triumphant.
ZANE (CONT'D)
To the girl... no one will forget!
The crowd mimics unwrapping, clawing the air.
Each gesture rips more of her away.
Her hair falls like static.
Her eyes disintegrate into white confetti.
LILLY
(whisper)
I don’t want this.
Her jaw splits down the center --
Paper tearing wet.
Her torso folds inward --
Origami made of flesh and memory.
LILLY (CONT'D)
(whisper, paper-thin)
Riley... help...
Her final shred -- her NAME -- tears from her chest.
It drifts upward --
Glows -- then disintegrates.
The crowd ERUPTS in applause.
Balloons BURST, spraying black slush across the floor.
Zane bows.
The crowd vanishes.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Psychological"]
Ratings
Scene
30 -
The Haunting of the Hallway
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
Riley creeps forward -- her phone trembling in her grip.
Shadows swing wildly across the peeling wallpaper --
It pulses, faintly, like a vein.
Each footstep throbs in the silence.
She leans against the wall -- jerks back.
The floral pattern is gone.
The wallpaper is HAIR --
Woven, pressed flat, rippling like it’s underwater.
RILEY
(hoarse whisper)
Name it. Claim it.
She touches her scarred throat, grounding herself.
The wallpaper BULGES outward, inhaling like a lung.
Strands snake free, dangling down like vines in a cave.
The air stinks -- sweet rot and burned keratin.
The wallpaper SPLITS --
Hair ERUPTS -- long, wet, slithering.
Twitching. Tasting. Searching.
One brushes her cheek. Riley recoils, swatting it.
RILEY (CONT'D)
Terror.
Another strand slides across her throat like a razor.
She slaps it down --
It writhes on the floor, twitching like a worm.
Suddenly, DOZENS erupt at once, flooding the hallway.
They lash around her -- caressing, choking.
One pries between her lips -- forces itself down her throat.
Riley gags, thrashing. Her eyes bulge.
Her lighter SHAKES in her hand.
She fumbles -- flicks it alive -- thrusts it into a strand.
SSSHRIEEEEK.
The strand recoils, igniting.
The stench of burning hair chokes the air.
The wall writhes.
Beneath the burning strands --
FACES.
Dozens. Pale, pressed flat. Mouths frozen open in eternal
screams. Eyes wide and wet, tracking Riley.
RILEY (CONT'D)
Intrusion.
The faces SCREAM in unison.
Their mouths gape wider, impossibly wide, black throats
spilling sound like static.
The strands lash again, faster.
One pins her arm to the wall.
Another slides into her ear canal --
SUE (V.O.)
(cruel whisper)
A good house keeps its traditions.
Riley squeezes her eyes shut. Inhales -- in four. Hold. Out
six.
She slams the lighter flame into the wall --
The faces SHRIEK. Hair writhes, coiling back.
The wallpaper peels. Crumbles. Curls back like burning
parchment.
The screams overlap -- then implode into silence.
The hallway convulses -- jerking, reshaping.
Doors SLAM shut one by one, like rolling thunder down the
corridor.
Then --
Stillness.
Riley staggers forward, soaked in sweat, clutching her
lighter like a weapon.
Behind her --
The wallpaper re-knits -- strands weaving like flesh healing.
From within the fibers, Sue’s LAUGHTER seeps out. Low. Cruel.
Maternal.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
31 -
Whispers in the Dark
INT. UPSTAIRS BATHROOM - NIGHT
SLAM.
The door shuts behind Riley with a sharp finality.
She twists the lock. Click.
Dark. Silent. The storm is muffled.
Her lantern sits on the counter, its dim glow flickering like
a failing pulse.
The small, tiled room presses in.
Riley leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain until her
knuckles blanch.
Her breath shudders, mouth open.
But no sound comes out.
CLOSE ON HAND
A shard of mirror glass is lodged just beneath her skin.
Blood oozes slowly -- black in the dim light.
She wets a towel. Wipes at the cut.
Behind her --
The mirror waits. Fogged over. Still.
Riley doesn’t look up.
Her reflection barely registers as a blur in the steam.
She rinses her hands again. Slower. Like a ritual.
A drip echoes from the faucet.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It starts to sound almost -- deliberate. Like footsteps. Like
a heartbeat.
She finally dares to lift her head.
THE MIRROR
Only fog.
Her shape -- a ghost behind glass.
She reaches out...
Fingers hover inches from the mirror’s surface.
Her breath fans across it -- revealing a sliver of
reflection.
Riley -- but --
Something moves behind her.
A flicker in the steam.
She turns.
Nothing.
She faces the mirror again.
The fog has returned. Thicker than before.
But something is writing across it now, slowly, traced by an
invisible fingertip --
“You'll always be mine.”
Riley stumbles back.
The lantern flickers violently, casting shadows that stretch
and slither.
She grabs the lantern -- hand shaking.
Then --
From inside the mirror -- a soft whisper.
EDDIE (V.O.)
Pick up, Riley.
Riley whirls --
An empty room.
Then --
The lock on the door clicks open -- by itself.
Riley freezes.
Stares at the door -- now slightly ajar.
Nothing on the other side -- only darkness breathing in.
She lifts the towel -- wraps it around her bleeding hand.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
32 -
Eerie Revelations
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Silence.
The room stands empty.
Cold. Still.
The pink phone pulses softly on the floor.
RING.
Hungry.
Waiting.
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Riley steps into the room -- clutching the black book tight
against her chest.
The living room looks... almost normal.
Brooke, Chelsea, and Lilly lounge on the couch, laughing.
An open wine bottle. Cards scattered.
Go Fish.
Their laughter rings too bright -- tuned a half-note wrong.
Riley stops cold.
RILEY
Brooke? ... Lilly?
They look up in perfect unison.
Their smiles hold -- too long. Too wide.
BROOKE
Hey. Finally. You were taking
forever.
LILLY
You missed the party. But don’t
worry -- there’s still time.
The grandfather clock ticks in the corner -- heavy,
mechanical, wet.
TICK. TICK. TICK.
Each tick thickens the air.
RILEY
What’s going on?
BROOKE
We’re fine now. We get it.
CHELSEA
The house just wanted us to laugh.
Brooke and Chelsea laugh -- a brittle, glassy sound that
cracks mid-breath.
Lilly joins in -- the same rhythm, the same tone.
Their giggles loop, skipping like a broken record.
Riley’s pulse hammers.
Their skin gleams too smooth. Eyes glint too yellow.
Their smiles stretch, trembling at the edges.
A sound comes from the kitchen --
DING.
The oven timer chimes, bright and cheerful, cutting the
silence like a blade through silk.
Brooke and Lilly snap their heads toward it, mechanically.
When they look back -- their smiles are wider.
Their teeth are... different.
LILLY
Our cookies are ready.
BROOKE
Come see, Riley. You’ll love them.
They rise together, movements slightly out of sync.
As they turn, Riley glimpses their backs --
Fabric seams run down their spines -- stitched tight.
Something dark seeps through the threads.
Brooke tilts her head --
A single drop of wax -- or flesh -- slides from her ear.
Riley steps back --
The clock stops.
Everything stops.
Then --
DING.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
33 -
Cookies of Horror
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
The kitchen hums with warmth, impossibly cozy.
The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafts thick.
On the counter --
A tray of fresh cookies, steam curling upward.
Brooke and Lilly wear oven mitts and move in eerie
synchronicity.
BROOKE
We made them just for you.
The cookies look perfect.
Golden. White chocolate chips dot the surface.
Riley, wary, edges closer.
The oven light flickers.
Her face turns pale.
The white chocolate chips are NOT actually white chocolate
chips --
They're HUMAN TEETH.
Brooke plucks one up and blows on it.
She takes a bite --
CRUNCH.
She chews.
Riley gags, staggers back.
RILEY
Oh my God.
Brooke leans forward, teeth clacking as she chews.
The lights flicker. The air grows thick.
In the reflection of the kitchen window --
THREE SHADOWY FIGURES stand behind her --
JANE. CHRISSY. MEGHAN.
Their mouths move, whispering soundless words.
One raises a Polaroid camera --
FLASH!
The brightness blinds Riley --
When her eyes clear --
They’re gone.
From deeper in the house --
Sue’s LAUGHTER. Cruel. Maternal. Carries in the walls.
The pink phone SHRIEKS -- metallic, shrill, vibrating like it
wants to run.
Riley whirls.
When she turns back --
Brooke, Chelsea, and Lilly are gone.
In their place --
GARY, DEAN, AND ZANE -- eyes glowing yellow.
The oven’s heat warps the air around them.
ZANE (V.O.)
(Lilly's voice - layered,
warped)
They’re just for you, Riley.
They step forward like broken marionettes, splintering the
air.
Riley staggers back, eyes darting --
The temperature drops. Her breath fogs.
The pink phone SCREAMS louder, a metallic wail that feels
alive.
The oven door BURSTS OPEN, flames belching teeth instead of
heat.
Gnashing. Grinning. Hungry.
Riley bolts --
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Psychological"]
Ratings
Scene
34 -
Nightmare Pursuit
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Riley stumbles in, panicked. The living room walls THROB.
Riley grips the lantern in one hand -- the hair doll in the
other.
She breathes raggedly, steadies herself. Eyes fierce.
RILEY
(under breath)
Name it. Claim it. Fight it.
The RULE CARD shakes in Riley’s hands.
Ink crawls, bleeds, smears, REWRITES --
"TO WIN - RETURN TO SENDER."
Blood rivulets soak the game board’s seams, veining outward
like capillaries.
Her lantern flickers out.
A beat of dead silence.
Then --
WINDOWS ERUPT.
Glass SCREAMS inward --
The blizzard HOWLS through the room, snatching curtains and
body-slamming picture frames.
Through the whiteout --
DREAM BOYS march in lockstep, smiles pre-set like mannequins.
Their shadows crawl faster than their bodies.
Riley grips the hair doll in one hand and a lighter in the
other.
She inhales -- in four. Hold. Out six.
The phone’s heartbeat syncs with hers -- too fast.
INT. STAIRS - NIGHT
Riley scales the staircase.
It stretches, elongating like a tongue.
Steps ripple under her boots.
Above her --
DREAM BOYS crawl along rafters like spiders, heads craning at
impossible angles.
DREAM BOYS (V.O.)
(overlapping)
Join us, Riley.
RILEY
You’re not real.
Riley lunges up the stairs, each step buckling behind her.
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
Riley sprints down the hallway.
Faces press from the plaster in silent SCREAMS.
Hair threads push from seams.
The hall STRETCHES -- doors smooth into a featureless wall,
then reappear farther away.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
35 -
The Haunting Ascend
INT. UPSTAIRS LANDING - NIGHT (SAME TIME)
Sue steps into guttering candlelight, her eyes ancient but
her face youthful.
SUE
Every fifty years, the house must
be fed.
Her hands climb higher...
DREAM BOYS bow like knights awaiting command.
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
Riley is boxed in -- SNOWMEN to the front, DREAM BOYS at her
back.
Above her --
The attic hatch CRACKS open --
A hungry glow leaks out.
Sue’s laughter booms from the rafters, a cathedral roll.
Riley grips the hair doll, jaw set.
The only path -- up.
Below her -- FOOTSTEPS.
Multiple Dream Boys climb in unison.
Riley digs out the hair doll.
It writhes faintly. She puts it back in her pocket.
RILEY
Hair binds. Blood opens. Return to
sender, the door closes.
She pricks her thumb on her knife, smearing blood across the
doll’s mouth --
It twitches in her palm as if it just tasted something.
Then --
A hiss at her shoulder -- a whisper as slick as oil, though
no one stands there --
SUE (V.O.)
Come join us, Riley.
Riley ascends -- each rung a pulse of dread.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
36 -
Riley's Confrontation in the Attic
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT
Riley shoulders the hatch.
WHOOF.
The pressure drops.
Cold sucks at her face.
Her breath ghosts white.
The attic yawns like a cathedral -- bigger, longer than the
house should allow.
Rotted rafters vanish into dark ribs.
Snow trickles through split shingles like ash.
At the center of the room lies a chalk-and-salt SIGIL branded
into the wooden floorboards.
Candles burn with black flame.
The game board and pink phone sit in the heart like an altar.
The pink phone THUMPS -- wet, arrhythmic.
Between sigil marks, floorboards hinge open into an OVAL
MOUTH.
Riley steadies.
The scar at her throat prickles like a compass needle.
From the MOUTH --
HANDS rise.
DREAM BOYS climb out, faces flipping like cards --
GARY/DEAN/ZANE.
Their smiles shear open -- teeth razored.
Suddenly --
Bones CRACK -- jaws unspool --
The three bodies KNOT into a single braid of smiles, enamel,
and hair.
Then --
A head PUSHES THROUGH...
EDDIE. Not flesh -- an idea sharpened.
FUSION EDDIE
I never left, Riley. I've always
been watching you. Seeing you.
The rafters SNAP like ribs.
Frost fans across the panes --
Rows of YELLOW EYES blink alive from outside.
A SHADOW peels off the far wall --
Sue, flickering. Perfect hair. Perfect skin. Her smile is
half maternal -- half wolf.
SUE
Tonight... the house collects
again.
Riley’s eyes cut --
Sigil, phone, mouth.
RILEY
You feed it. For what -- beauty?
Sue steps into the half-light.
For a blink, bone shows under the glow.
SUE
For time, dear. For a life where
men don’t bruise and grief doesn’t
wrinkle.
The phone RINGS -- backwards, wet, like metal dragged through
meat.
FUSION EDDIE
Answer it, Riley. Time to finish
the game.
He steps. The boards sink like wet snow.
RILEY
(to herself)
Name it. Claim it. Fight it.
She flicks the lighter -- a flame shivers.
She stares at her bloody thumb, at the doll, at the phone.
Eddie lunges at Riley --
She SPLASHES FLAME --
Fire licks Ethan’s borrowed face.
The knot HOWLS, voices duetting in static and charm.
Riley smears her blood across the doll’s matted lips.
The doll QUIVERS.
SUE
You can’t close what you didn’t
open, dear.
RILEY SPRINTS AT SUE.
They COLLIDE --
Air wrinkles -- the fabric of the room draws tight.
Riley’s knife flashes. She NICKS Sue’s forearm. DARK BLOOD
worms out like ink.
Riley crams the hair doll into Sue’s palm, SMEARS Sue’s blood
over it -- CLAMPS her fingers shut.
The sigil FLARES.
The doll’s hair WRITHES, braiding up Sue’s wrist, elbow,
shoulder like a needle pulling a seam.
Sue jerks.
Her glamour FLICKERS -- something gaunt and ancient beneath.
SUE (CONT'D)
Hold the line!
The FUSION staggers -- splits. Re-knits.
GARY/DEAN/ZANE peel -- then slam back together.
Eddie stands alone. Hungry.
Riley plants a boot on the chalk ring -- drives Sue toward
the mouth, inch by inch.
She heels Sue across the sigil -- yanking her wrists down.
Hair threads gouge into Sue’s veins like barbed wire, pulling
her toward the mouth...
Suddenly --
FLOORBOARDS EXPLODE.
From the seams, SKELETAL ARMS wrapped in hair burst up --
Three HEADS rise, crowned in braided mats --
JANE. CHRISSY. MEGHAN. Their eyes glass-marble, smiles
cracked with ice.
They move with hunger and grief, hair coiling like eels.
They swarm Riley -- gentle and merciless, knocking her off
her feet.
Riley gags as hair slips between her teeth.
Riley screams, kicking, dragged on her back toward the MOUTH.
Her nails dig into the floor -- desperate.
The air pulses with breath. The dark ahead opens wider.
SUE (CONT'D)
(laughing)
The house protects me. Who protects
you, Riley? Who loves you? No one
can love a broken soul like yours.
But this house can...
Riley thrashes -- burning a coil of hair with her lighter.
Screams ECHO up the strands, traveling from skull to skull
like a current.
The girls recoil, but only enough to take a deeper breath.
SUE (CONT'D)
One hundred years ago, I made a
bargain. I made a pact. Not with a
priest or a prince... but with a
Demon. Asmodeus. The demon of lust
and one of the seven kings of hell.
His want -- broken females. So I
gave it what it craved. Broken
girls with their soft, foolish
dreams. In return, it gave me time.
Youth. Beauty... Power.
Sue steps closer, almost whispering in Riley’s ear.
Sue’s face flickers -- gaunt and monstrous.
SUE (CONT'D)
You think you can win? There is no
winning. Only feeding.
And tonight... you’re the feast.
Riley’s breath finds the count. In four. Hold. Out six.
She turns to the 1975 girls.
RILEY
You don’t belong to this house or
to her. Let me set you free.
A HUM swells beneath the boards. The black flames quiver.
The 1975 girls’ whispers soften -- their hair loosens from
Riley’s mouth.
Their gazes tilt to Sue -- a recalibration.
The MOUTH widens, hungry.
Riley BITES the pad of her thumb -- fresh blood wells.
She smears it across the sigil with her hand -- it buckles,
chalk peeling back like shedding skin.
RILEY (CONT'D)
Jane Dawkins. Chrissy Salters.
Meghan Siebert. I release you.
The pink phone on the board FLATLINES -- a high, steady tone.
Wind REVERSES -- a TEARING VACUUM.
Dream Boys WARP, their smiles cracking like porcelain.
Eddie claws floorboards -- reaches up as he slips --
RILEY (CONT'D)
I choose who gets to see me.
EDDIE
(soft, almost kind)
See you in the dark.
He's ripped away -- shredded into hair and teeth as the MOUTH
drinks.
Riley kneels down by Sue, still wrapped in hair.
For the first time, a deep fear flickers in Sue’s eyes.
RILEY
You fed it us. Now it’s time to
feed it you.
Riley turns to the 1975 girls.
SUE
No. Hold the line. Do not break the
circle!
The 1975 girls are no longer under her control.
They watch on -- still. Silent. Free.
Riley plants her feet -- anchors her breath.
With both hands, she drags Sue to the edge of the mouth.
Hair SUTURES through Sue’s chest like barbed floss.
Her eyes cloud like antique glass.
Hair pours from her eyes, nose, and mouth.
RILEY
Return to sender, bitch.
Riley hurls Sue into the MOUTH --
The MOUTH CLAPS SHUT like a book.
Sudden quiet.
Black flames gutter out.
The pink phone -- cracked, embering -- glows once. Then dies.
Riley sprawls on her hands and knees, her chest sawing.
The floor beneath her palm feels warm.
Somewhere below, the house EXHALES.
Locks CLACK open.
Riley staggers upright -- lifts the hair doll --
Now just dead hair and dried blood.
She pockets it like an evidence bag.
Riley stands at the hatch.
She looks back at the missing girls --
The girls smile softly -- then sink through the seams of the
house.
Riley touches her scar.
Inside her pocket, the dead doll’s hair, almost imperceptibly
-- quivers.
Riley inhales -- in four. Hold. Out six.
Then lowers herself down the hatch.
EXT. SORORITY HOUSE - MORNING
Snow crews shovel in silence, their breath rising in white
plumes.
TWO POLICEMEN tape flaps in jagged gusts.
Red and blue lights strobe across the Tudor façade.
EMTs hover around Riley.
She sits slumped, a blanket around her shoulders.
Her hands tremble -- fists still clenched.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
37 -
Flickering Shadows
EXT. AMBULANCE - MORNING
Riley sits on the bumper. A PARAMEDIC leans close, shining a
penlight into her eyes.
PARAMEDIC
You’re lucky. Hypothermia’s the
real monster tonight.
Riley isn’t listening.
Her gaze is fixed on the house --
At the faint glow in the attic window.
The paramedic clicks the penlight off.
PARAMEDIC (CONT'D)
You’re gonna be fine. Just a couple
of bumps and bruises.
A COP waves Riley toward a waiting cruiser.
Genres:
["Horror","Supernatural","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
38 -
Echoes of the Past
INT. POLICE CRUISER - MORNING
Riley slides into the back seat. The door shuts with a padded
thunk.
The air smells of melting snow and burnt coffee.
She leans her forehead against the plexiglass divider.
Her reflection stares back -- hollow-eyed.
In the rearview mirror --
ETHAN sits in the seat behind her -- his smile gentle.
Riley’s breath stops.
She spins around --
The seat -- empty.
The police radio CRACKLES.
Static builds, shifting into a dial tone.
Then --
RING.
Riley shuts her eyes tight, forcing her breath into rhythm.
She inhales -- in four. Hold. Out six.
The ring cuts off -- abrupt.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
39 -
Awakening Terror
INT. CAMPUS LIBRARY - NIGHT
Riley is asleep, slumped over an open textbook. A pool of
lamplight bathes her face.
A hand gently squeezes her shoulder.
LIBRARIAN (V.O.)
Ma'am?
We're closing up. Didn’t you get the message -- semester
finals are over.
Riley jolts awake, breath shallow -- eyes darting around as
if expecting something terrible.
Instead --
Quiet. Soft humming lights. Rows of tidy bookshelves.
A lone LIBRARIAN (60s, kindly) stands by her side.
LIBRARIAN
Ma'am? Did you hear me? You don’t
have to go home, but you can’t stay
here.
Riley sits up slowly, realizes --
It was all a dream.
Her shoulders sag with relief. She runs a hand across her
forehead.
RILEY
Right. Yeah. Sorry.
The librarian nods, shuffling off toward the front desk.
Riley packs up her stuff, sliding papers and pens into her
bag.
She closes her textbook -- but something slips out,
fluttering to the floor.
Riley freezes.
A POLAROID PHOTO, face down.
She hesitates — then picks it up.
Her face drains, eyes full of terror.
Insert Photo: Riley asleep at the library table -- up close.
Too close.
Riley’s hands tremble.
She spins around -- eyes scanning the darkened aisles of the
library.
Empty.
Quiet.
She looks at her phone --
"ONE NEW MESSAGE."
She presses play and puts the phone to her ear --
ROBOTIC VOICE (V.O.)
This is an automated call from the
Victim Information and Notification
Everyday service. Please listen
carefully. Offender Ethan Rowe has
been released --
Riley hangs up, her face hallowed with terror.
Somewhere, faintly --
RING.
FADE OUT.