EXT. MOUNTAIN TRAIL - DAY
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN RANGE looms like a wall of jagged stone.
Brutal. Ancient.
Mist clings to towering Ponderosa Pines -- thick, low.
Everything is still.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
FOOTSTEPS. In rhythm.
A YOUNG WOMAN (20s), athletic, jogs alone through a dense
pine forest. Earbuds in. Hood up.
Pines lean in.
Branches arch overhead like claws.
She runs deeper.
THROUGH THE TREES
A faint RUSTLE.
Behind a curtain of fog --
Something massive moves, flowing like liquid shadow.
BACK TO JOGGER
She slows. Posture tightens.
She glances over her shoulder --
Only trees. Fog.
Her pace quickens.
THROUGH THE TREES
Her figure appears in fractured glimpses through the mist.
Then --
A LOW GROWL vibrates the air. Deep. Resonant.
BACK TO JOGGER
She stops.
Pulls out one earbud --
Silence.
Her jaw tightens. Eyes dart.
She pulls out the second --
The forest rushes in --
Wind in branches. A distant bird. Her breath.
Then --
Nothing.
She exhales. Laughs. Shaky.
Turns to go --
SNAP.
A branch behind her jerks violently, recoiling from pressure.
She spins --
Eyes wide. Scanning...
Nothing.
Sound DROPS AWAY, drenching the scene in an uneasy, eerie
silence.
She backs up a step --
Suddenly --
WHAM!
A MASSIVE SHAPE explodes from the trees in a blur of CLAWS
AND FANGS.
A shadowy creature SMASHES into her like a wave hitting the
shore.
She hits the ground -- hard.
She screams -- choked, guttural -- then slides into shadow.
The forest exhales.
Then --
Silence.
Stillness.
A single, blood-slick sneaker lies abandoned in the dirt.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
Climbing Memories
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLIFF - DAY
A hand clamps down on a rock face -- fingers straining,
dusted in chalk.
CLARE LOCKWOOD (30s), wiry and strong, ascends a sheer
granite wall. Every muscle taut.
Her face is a mix of quiet determination and weariness.
Sweat beads down her temple, cut by the thin mountain air.
Below her, the world falls away --
The Rocky Mountains stretch endlessly, a dizzying drop into
shadowed wilderness.
Clare pauses. Inhales. Slow, measured.
EXT. MOUNTAIN SUMMIT - DAY (FLASHBACK)
YOUNG CLARE (10) sits beside her father, RAY LOCKWOOD (30s),
a slab of a man, on a sunlit peak high above the clouds.
Her cheeks are red from the cold, eyes wide with wonder.
Below them, the world stretches endlessly --
Pine forests fade into a blue haze.
Ray removes his gloves -- brushes windblown snow from Clare’s
hair.
RAY
Up here. The world stops.
He closes his eyes, listening.
RAY (CONT'D)
And if you listen close enough...
You can hear the mountain
breathing.
YOUNG CLARE
Breathing? Really?
He nods, half-smiling -- coughs. Dry. Harsh. Wrong.
RAY
It’s alive. Everything up here is.
Even the silence.
The sound of the wind deepens -- a low hum that seems to come
from within the mountain itself.
He looks out toward the horizon -- distant, haunted.
END FLASHBACK
Genres:
["Drama","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Cliffside Urgency
EXT. ROCK FACE - DAY (PRESENT DAY)
Clare reaches for the next hold.
CRACK.
A rock dislodges.
She flinches as it tumbles into the void, clattering off
stone until it disappears.
Her phone vibrates on the strap around her arm -- a faint
buzz against the cliff face.
She ignores it.
Keeps climbing.
It buzzes again. Longer than before.
Clare mutters to herself, annoyed.
She shifts her weight --
One hand dangles hundreds of feet above the ground as she
fumbles the phone free.
CLARE
This better be good, Bill.
BILL (V.O.)
(beat)
Fatal attack in Black Ridge. I need
you and Jack on-site now.
Clare’s grip tightens on the stone. Her eyes harden.
CLARE
Jesus, a fatality?
A pause. Only wind hissing through. Then -- a rough exhale.
BILL (V.O.)
Just get up there, Clare.
Clare exhales sharply. Looks down --
Past her boots --
Down the sheer rock wall --
Into the forest sprawling far below.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Into the Wilderness
INT. COLORADO PARKS AND WILDLIFE OFFICE - DAY
A cluttered, wood-paneled office. Maps of the Rocky Mountains
plaster the walls, dotted with pins and markers.
Clare pushes through the door, dressed in field gear.
Her eyes land on JACK COLLINS (40s), a good soldier gone
civilian, sitting with his boots propped on the desk.
A scar at Jack’s throat catches the light -- pale and
twisted, like an old wound that still whispers.
CLARE
You talk to Bill?
Jack lowers his boots, studies her.
JACK
Jogger went missing yesterday.
Found her this morning.
He looks away -- jaw tense.
JACK (CONT'D)
Or what’s left of her.
Clare doesn't blink.
Jack leans back with arms crossed -- sizing her up like he’s
measuring how much weight she can carry.
JACK (CONT'D)
Don’t let it spook you. The
mountains don’t care who you are.
Clare snaps open her rifle case -- slides her 270 Winchester
out with clean efficiency.
CLARE
Then let’s not keep them waiting.
Jack grabs his gear, shrugs into his field jacket.
EXT. WILDLIFE OFFICE - DAY
Only a white CPW Ford truck waits in the lot.
Clare hauls her pack and rifle case into the bed, her
movements controlled and tight.
Jack tosses a beat-up Army duffel bag and rifle case in with
a soldier’s carelessness.
Clare pauses.
Her gaze climbs the tree line -- then higher, to the jagged
peaks beyond.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
Descent into Despair
EXT. MOUNTAIN PASS - DAY
The CPW truck rumbles along a narrow, winding road carved
into the mountainside.
Towering pines and jagged cliffs loom on either side.
INT. TRUCK – DAY
Clare grips the wheel -- gaze focused forward.
Jack, riding shotgun, sips gas station coffee -- the lid
creaking softly between his fingers.
The truck rounds a bend.
Through the windshield, Clare sees --
A massive open-pit mine yawns across the valley --
Black veins of soil and smoke swirl as trucks the size of
houses grind through switchbacks.
Clare slows instinctively, staring.
Her eyes darken with anger.
CLARE
We sell postcards of paradise so we
can pave right over it.
Jack watches a dump truck unload a cascade of raw stone into
the pit.
JACK
Everybody wants their own little
slice of nature. At least the
illusion of it, anyway.
A long, heavy silence fills the air.
Clare’s eyes flicker -- she glances at the treeline through
the glass.
For a moment, it feels like the pines are watching them pass.
Clare's eyes lock on the curves ahead. Focused.
Up ahead, a yellow highway sign appears through the mist --
“BEWARE OF MOUNTAIN LIONS.”
A sudden fear fills Clare’s eyes.
She looks down at the hands on the steering wheel --
On her right index finger -- a pale, linear scar.
She fumbles for her inhaler -- takes a long pull.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Eyes in the Shadows
EXT. BLACK RIDGE - DAY
The CPW truck rattles into the remote mountain town, dwarfed
by the jagged Rockies looming on all sides.
The place feels isolated -- a pocket of civilization clinging
to the wilderness.
A battered roadside sign creaks in the wind --
“WELCOME TO BLACK RIDGE – ELEVATION 9,412 FT.”
As the truck rolls down the only main street, we see --
A strip of cabins, a weathered gas station, a diner, and a
general store with antlers nailed above the door.
The air feels heavy. Quiet. Too quiet.
The truck passes the diner, its neon sign sputtering “OPEN.”
For a split second, the “O” flickers out -- reading “PEN.”
THROUGH THE TREES
TWO YELLOW EYES emerge from darkness.
Watching. Waiting.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
The Uneasy Introduction
INT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE – DAY
Dim. Stale. A room frozen in time. Wood-paneled walls warped
with age.
Behind the desk, SHERIFF BAUER (late 60s), built like an old
oak trunk, leans back in his chair, hat tipped low.
He lifts the brim as Clare and Jack enter.
His eyes are pale, sharp, unreadable.
SHERIFF BAUER
You the wildlife folks?
CLARE
Clare Lockwood, Colorado Parks and
Wildlife. This is Jack Collins, my
partner.
Sheriff Bauer shifts in his chair, nervous.
SHERIFF BAUER
You folks always show up after the
mountain takes its toll.
JACK
Bad news doesn’t RSVP.
Sheriff Bauer stands -- slow, deliberate, like a man who
hasn’t rushed in years.
He studies them for a beat.
The Sheriff’s gaze lingers on Jack -- then slides back to
Clare.
SHERIFF BAUER
Follow me.
He turns toward the hallway leading deeper into the station.
Clare and Jack share a glance as they follow, footsteps
echoing on the warped wood floors.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
Unveiling Horror
INT. POLICE STATION - HALLWAY - DAY
Sheriff Bauer pushes open a heavy door at the end of the hall
--
The air that leaks out is cold. Heavy.
SHERIFF BAUER
Brace yourselves.
INT. MORGUE ROOM - DAY
A cold, windowless chamber. White tile, scuffed and stained.
The fluorescent light overhead hums and flickers, as if it
might give out.
An old steel autopsy table dominates the center of the room.
A body bag lies atop it, zipped shut.
Sheriff Bauer stands grim, one hand braced on the table.
He nods toward the bag.
His fingers linger on the zipper.
Clare sets her jaw. Steps closer.
Sheriff Bauer pulls the zipper...
The sound is long and metallic, slowly revealing --
A torso ripped open, ribs fractured outward.
The face --
Frozen mid-scream -- half-gone, cheek shredded to the bone.
One eye is glassy -- the other missing entirely.
Deep claw marks score across the abdomen.
The room falls still.
Clare swallows hard -- leans in, eyes narrowing.
She traces a gloved finger along the ribcage.
The wounds are jagged and vicious.
CLARE
Cervical vertebrae fractured in
three places... Jugular...
completely severed.
Jack traces his fingers over four deep, evenly spaced gouges
that stretch from the victim’s ribs to her hip.
Clare’s stomach tightens.
JACK
Claw marks appear to be --
Clare calculates the spread in her head.
CLARE
-- Over a foot across...
(to herself)
Doesn’t make any sense.
Clare steps back, processing.
Jack exhales sharply, rubbing his jaw.
Sheriff Bauer shifts uncomfortably.
SHERIFF BAUER
You ever seen an animal do that to
somebody?
Clare's face hardens. In her eyes -- a flicker of doubt.
CLARE
We need to investigate the attack
site before we draw any
conclusions.
Sheriff Bauer moves to a nearby metal filing cabinet and
pulls out a map, laying it on a side table.
He circles a spot on the map -- taps on it with his pen.
SHERIFF BAUER
One mile northwest of the main
trail as the crow flies.
CLARE
We’ll head there now -- make it
before dark.
Sheriff Bauer studies them for a beat, then nods.
Jack and Clare turn toward the door.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
The Watchful Woods
EXT. MOUNTAIN TRAIL - DAY
The midday sun filters through the pine canopy, casting
shifting patches of light across the ground.
Clare and Jack move down a narrow trail, their boots sinking
into the soft earth.
The air grows heavier with each step -- muffled, as if the
woods are swallowing sound.
EXT. FOREST CLEARING - DAY
Jack and Clare step into a clearing -- scarred, silent.
Blood stains the dirt in wide arcs, almost black.
Clare stops.
At her feet --
A PAW PRINT. Massive. Deep. Wider than her boot.
The forest falls silent.
No birds. No wind. Even the insects seem to vanish.
Clare crouches -- traces her finger along a claw groove.
Jack crouches beside her.
JACK
Those aren’t just deep. They’re...
heavy. Like whatever made them was
carrying more weight than it
should.
Clare looks up --
The trees feel closer now.
Watching.
She rises slowly.
Jack's hand shifts toward his rifle -- alert.
Clare’s eyes follow the branch upward into the shadows of the
canopy.
Suddenly --
A FLASH in the tree line.
Gone.
Her breath quickens.
CLARE
It’s watching us.
Jack unslings his Remington 700 -- eyes narrowing at the
dense wall of trees.
JACK
Good. Then we’re not wasting our
time.
The two stand back-to-back in the clearing, dwarfed by the
forest around them and mountains above.
A low growl rolls through the trees. Resonant. Too deep for
any predator they know.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
Predator's Approach
EXT. FOREST CLEARING - DAY
The last light of day bleeds through the trees.
Clare and Jack move in practiced silence, their breath
fogging in the still air.
The woods are still, the silence weighted -- like the forest
is listening.
Jack unloads gear from his pack --
Steel foothold traps, snares, and a sealed bucket labeled
“DEER MEAT.”
Clare unspools a chain, hammering an anchor stake into the
dirt.
CLARE
We’ll line them along the
perimeter. Predators circle before
they come back to feed.
JACK
And if this one doesn’t circle?
Clare doesn’t answer. She’s too focused.
She tightens the chain with a practiced twist.
SNAP.
The steel jaws clamp shut with a sharp metallic crack.
Clare resets it -- hands steady. Eyes less so.
Her eyes flick to the dark between the trees.
Jack kneels beside a fallen trunk, rolling back the lid of
the bait bucket.
The smell hits -- feral, wet, sweet rot.
He spears a chunk of blood-slick meat with a stick -- lays it
in the trap.
WHOOSH.
A bird explodes upward from the canopy -- cawing in terror.
Jack freezes, rifle half-raised.
Clare steadies him with a quiet hand.
CLARE
Probably just a deer.
Jack doesn’t move for a long moment.
His eyes stay fixed on the tree line -- his finger resting
near the trigger guard.
The woods settle again.
A silence too absolute.
Clare looks at him, uncertain.
Then she feels it --
A low vibration underfoot -- barely perceptible, like the
ground itself is exhaling.
Wind stirs the treetops.
Then --
A distant ROAR.
It rolls across the valley. Long. Resonant. Vibrating their
bones.
Every tree in the clearing sways, perfectly in sync.
The roar fades -- but the trees keep swaying like a heartbeat
that isn’t theirs.
Clare's gaze locks into the darkness of the forest.
Her eyes glint with fear in the dying light.
THROUGH THE TREES
TWO YELLOW EYES blink once --
Then vanish into darkness.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
Stormy Reflections
INT. DINER - NIGHT
A small-town diner. Faded linoleum floors.
Clare and Jack sit in a cracked vinyl booth near the window.
Wind howls from outside -- mountains watching from the dark.
SANDY (50s), with kind eyes and nicotine laugh lines,
approaches with a coffee pot.
SANDY
Evenin.’ Coffee?
CLARE
Please.
Jack nods. Sandy pours. The coffee steams like oil.
SANDY
Kitchen’s slow tonight. Storm’s got
folks spooked.
JACK
Storm?
SANDY
First big one of the season.
Rolling down from the Divide by the
afternoon. You two still plan on
being around when it hits?
Clare glances at Jack.
CLARE
Looks that way.
Sandy studies them a beat too long.
SANDY
This about that missing girl?
JACK
Can’t comment on an active case,
ma’am.
Sandy leans closer.
SANDY
(whisper)
Sure. Just hope you find her before
the coyotes do.
Jack forces a smile.
Sandy shrugs -- shuffles off with the coffee pot.
Jack takes a sip. Winces -- then his eyes grow thoughtful --
eyes fixed on the window.
JACK
Do you believe in things you can’t
explain?
CLARE
I believe in evidence.
Jack laughs, pulling at his collar to reveal a cross
necklace.
JACK
My daddy was a preacher. He used to
say, “Fear him who can destroy both
soul and body.”
CLARE
Please don’t start quoting
Revelations. You sound like my
father.
Jack perks up slightly.
JACK
You’ve never mentioned him.
Clare’s eyes drift to her reflection in the window — a pale
ghost in the glass.
CLARE
Not much to mention. He died when I
was twelve. Smoked three packs a
day, thought Marlboros built
character.
(beat)
Wanted me to be a rodeo queen.
Ride a horse named... Starburst
Thunder. Wear sequins. Smile like I
meant it.
Jack leans back, smirks.
JACK
Starburst Thunder. Now that's a
name of destiny.
They share the first real flicker of warmth.
Sandy returns with two plates, setting them down with a
clatter.
Jack leans back, folds his arms -- taking her in.
CLARE
Why’d you leave the Army for...
this?
Jack leans back, his face unreadable.
JACK
I thought the service would give me
a purpose, but after a while... I
got tired of fighting battles that
weren’t mine.
Jack leans closer. On his face -- a look of fear.
JACK (CONT'D)
We trap this thing tonight and can
head out tomorrow before the storm
hits.
CLARE
I get the feeling those traps will
be empty tomorrow.
The diner lights hum louder.
Jack takes another sip of coffee.
JACK
Hope you're wrong about that.
CLARE
Me too.
Wind screams against the glass.
Clare looks out toward the mountains -- their silhouettes
shifting in the dark.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
The Clever Predator
EXT. FOREST CLEARING - DAY
The sky is overcast, a low ceiling of clouds pressing down on
the mountains.
Clare’s jaw tightens as they enter the clearing --
The circle of traps remains exactly where they set them --
UNDISTURBED.
The bait rags --
GONE.
Only damp strings dangle where they were tied.
Jack kneels at one of the steel traps --
The jaws remain cocked, unsprung.
JACK
Impossible...
Clare crouches beside him.
CLARE
Not impossible. Smart.
Jack glances at her, unsettled.
CLARE (CONT'D)
Predators adapt.
Jack points at the soil around the trap.
JACK
See here? It came in from the side.
Didn’t step where we wanted -- used
its muzzle -- maybe teeth, pulled
the rag off clean... Never touched
the plate.
Clare shakes her head, kneeling deeper into the dirt.
CLARE
It's smart. A problem solver.
Jack moves to another trap and kneels.
He brushes pine needles aside to reveal a massive, deep print
beneath.
JACK
Not smart enough not to leave a
trail.
Clare’s gaze turns to claw impressions gouged into damp soil
-- subtle drag marks weave between pines.
Clare rises, brushing dirt from her gloves.
CLARE
If he doesn’t want to come to us,
we’ll go to him.
Jack nods his head -- stands -- rifle ready.
Clare takes her inhaler from her pocket -- takes a deep
inhale.
The forest seems to lean closer -- listening.
Clare stares deep into the forest, uneasy.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
Into the Wilderness
EXT. MOUNTAIN HOUSE - DAY (FLASHBACK)
A clapboard cabin perches on the edge of a vast wilderness.
The Rocky Mountains rise behind it like the ribs of an
ancient, slumbering god.
YOUNG CLARE (11) steps off the back porch, boots crunching
over dead pine needles.
A satchel slung over one shoulder, a hunting knife nearly
half her size strapped to her hip.
YOUNG CLARE
I’m gonna go check the traps!
From inside the house --
CLARE’S DAD (O.S.)
You know the rules. Bring your
knife. And don’t forget the
forest’s rules --
YOUNG CLARE
-- I got it, Dad.
She pats the handle of the knife like it makes her
invincible.
CLARE’S DAD (O.S.)
Good girl. Don’t be long.
She heads into the trees.
The air shifts.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
Lessons of the Forest
EXT. MOUNTAIN FOREST - DAY
Sunlight spears through the canopy in fractured shafts.
The cabin disappears behind a wall of trunks.
Clare slows. Her breathing grows shallow.
A faint RUSTLE.
She places her hand on the knife.
Then another sound --
A whispering scrape, like teeth grinding just beyond the veil
of trees.
She draws the knife -- fast. Careless.
The blade nicks her finger.
YOUNG CLARE
(whisper)
Shit.
Blood beads along her skin, running in a perfect crimson
thread.
Then --
A GUTTURAL SNARL rips the silence open like fabric.
Clare freezes.
Then --
From the brush --
Something emerges --
A MOUNTAIN LION. Massive. Ten feet nose to tail.
Its tawny fur bristles -- amber eyes glowing like molten
coins in a black forge.
It paces, slow -- a ghost made of muscle and instinct.
The beast’s tail slices the air like a whip.
It’s breathing -- thick, wet.
A low growl vibrates through Clare’s chest like a second
heartbeat.
The forest leans inward.
Every tree seems to watch.
Clare’s fingers shake.
The knife dips.
She swallows a scream. Trembles.
The lion crouches --
Legs coil.
Then --
It lunges at Clare like a speeding bullet, jaws gaped --
BANG!
A rifle shot cracks like thunder.
The lion jerks mid-air --
Then collapses in a heap with a wet thud.
Still.
The forest exhales.
Birds return in a distant flurry.
CLARE’S DAD (30s) steps from the trees -- a face carved from
stone and shadow.
His rifle smokes faintly in his hand.
He walks over to the beast, nudges it with his boot.
Dead.
Clare doesn’t move.
Blood trickles down her hand, dripping onto pine needles
below.
Her eyes stay locked on the corpse.
Clare’s Dad kneels beside her, one hand firm on her shoulder.
CLARE’S DAD
Never go this deep alone. You’re
not ready yet.
She nods -- barely.
CLARE’S DAD (CONT'D)
These woods. They’ve got rules.
And sometimes, the mountain sends
things to test you.
Her gaze shifts back to the dead lion --
Its jaw hangs slack, but its eyes still seem to watch her.
EXT. MOUNTAIN FOREST – DAY
Clare and her father walk back through the trees in silence.
Each step feels heavier.
She steals one last look behind her --
The shadows -- no longer just shadows.
They breathe.
CLARE’S DAD
You stood your ground. Next time,
you’ll be ready.
Clare says nothing.
She looks down at her bleeding finger -- exhales. Heavy.
Shaky.
The blood pulses with her heartbeat, soaking into the earth.
END FLASHBACK
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
Into the Ominous Woods
EXT. FOREST TRAIL - DAY (BACK TO PRESENT)
Thick clouds gather over the mountains. The jagged peaks look
like shark teeth.
Clare and Jack move in silence -- breath smoking in the cold
air.
Jack moves methodically through the thick underbrush.
The trees grow denser, their branches heavy.
CLARE
You sure you know where you’re
going?
JACK
I was a tracker in the Army for
fifteen years. I’m sure.
CLARE
Bet that comes in handy.
JACK
Yeah, unless what you’re tracking
ends up tracking you.
Jack’s gaze is fixed ahead --
The mountains loom ominously.
Clare slows down -- eyes narrowing.
Up ahead --
The trees open up into a meadow.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
The Blighted Meadow
EXT. MEADOW - DAY
Trees thin -- trunks arching like cathedral pillars.
Clare and Jack push through the last row of pines -- stop.
A wide, open meadow unfurls before them --
Once pristine -- now defiled.
Something black stains the ground, spreading outward in veins
and spirals like oil slicks.
The silence is profound.
Clare steps forward first, boots crunching.
Then she sees them --
Dozens of carcasses --
Elk, moose, bear, and wolf -- scattered across the field.
Antlers jut upward like thorns from the ground. Fur fused
with bone.
Bodies twist -- inverted. Locked in poses of agony.
Jack moves beside Clare, swallowing hard.
They walk deeper into the clearing.
The air grows heavier -- thick, sweet, metallic.
Clare kneels beside an elk --
Its eyes -- gone -- just sockets filled with a black resin
glistening like tar.
She leans in. The tissue gleams -- wrong.
Jack crouches over another corpse --
The animal’s hide shimmers -- stretched thin, translucent --
like waxed paper.
Underneath, something moves --
A ripple, faint but unmistakable.
JACK
What in the fuck?...
He presses the butt of his knife against the hide --
It yields. Soft. Sponge-like.
A black fluid seeps from the puncture -- sizzling faintly as
it hits the ground.
CLARE
Don’t touch it.
Jack stumbles back.
The smell hits -- sweet and chemical, like burnt sugar mixed
with bleach.
Clare turns, her face lit with horror and awe.
Her gaze catches something further ahead --
A mound of black fur. Huge.
A BLACK BEAR.
She approaches slowly, her shadow stretching across its
massive body.
The torso has been ruptured outward -- bones bending back
like a ribcage forced open from within.
She circles it.
Freezes.
Looks down --
The bear has TWO HEADS.
Both half-formed, fused at the neck, one mouth frozen mid-
snarl.
CLARE (CONT'D)
Jack.
Jack joins her, face pale.
They stare down in mute disbelief.
A crow lands on the bear’s back -- pecks once at the exposed
flesh.
Instantly, the bird convulses --
Its wings thrash --
Feathers burst loose in a storm of blood and guts.
Clare’s breath catches.
Then --
A faint shimmer.
From the wound, a cluster of translucent filaments rises --
Slow, deliberate, almost graceful.
They twist upward in spirals -- like smoke made of glass
threads and pollen.
SPORES.
Tiny, golden. Drifting weightless into the cold air.
Jack steps back, instinctively holding his breath.
The particles wobble and scatter, catching sunlight through
the trees.
Clare’s eyes lock on them, horror dawning.
CLARE (CONT'D)
Airborne.
One of the spores lands on her glove -- etching a dark spot
into the fabric.
Behind her, the wind picks up -- carrying the rest into the
trees.
Then --
A distant ROAR.
A wave moves through the forest, synced perfectly with the
sound.
Jack grips his rifle tighter.
Clare stares into the forest, lost in her own head.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
17 -
Echoes of Mutation
EXT. MOUNTAIN LAKE - DAY
Jack and Clare emerge from the trees. A lake sprawls out
before them --
The surface shimmers with a rainbow slick of oil, swirling in
unnatural hues of blue, green, and black.
A chemical sheen ripples with the slightest breeze.
Dozens of dead fish float belly-up. Bloated. Grotesque.
Some have extra fins, others double jaws -- some just gaping
holes where eyes should be.
Jack kneels at the edge and prods a swollen fish corpse with
a stick.
The flesh collapses instantly, dissolving into a gray soupy
mush.
Clare crouches beside him, pulling a latex glove from her
pocket.
She picks up a tiny, malformed fish -- it has two heads fused
at the neck.
Jack looks at her -- sharp.
SNAP.
A loud crack echoes through the underbrush --
They whirl around, rifles raised --
Only silence. Stillness.
Suddenly --
A DEER steps from the tree line --
It’s gaunt, skin patchy -- fur falling away in strips.
Three grotesque sets of antlers sprout at odd angles --
One curves backward, one juts sideways; another spirals into
a knotted crown of bone.
Its eyes glow faintly yellow in the dim light.
Its lips peel back slightly, revealing --
Sharp, malformed teeth.
It stares at them. Not afraid. Not curious. Just... wrong.
It takes one slow, deliberate step forward.
Jack steadies his rifle.
The deer twitches violently -- its head jerks unnaturally.
Bones pop under the strain of some invisible force.
Suddenly --
It emits a scream --
Not a bleat, not an animal sound, but a horrific, guttural
human-like WAIL.
The noise ricochets through the forest.
Clare flinches, her hand flying to her ear.
Jack stumbles back, rifle raised, shaken.
The deer lurches, convulses -- then bolts into the trees.
Its twisted antlers crash through branches as it disappears,
leaving silence in its wake.
The clearing -- deathly quiet again.
Jack exhales -- breath shaking.
JACK
That's not a sound nature invented.
Clare looks back at the lake. Mind racing.
CLARE
The infection isn't necessarily
killing them. It's rewiring 'em.
Her words hang heavy in the air.
Jack keeps staring at the treeline where the deer vanished.
The clouds darken overhead.
A winter storm presses closer.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
18 -
The Buried Threat
EXT. MOUNTAIN SLOPE - DAY
Storm clouds churn overhead, shadows racing across the
ridgeline.
Jack and Clare push through tangled underbrush into a
clearing at the base of a craggy slope.
Half-buried in the earth --
A rusted STEEL DOOR juts from the hillside.
The frame is cracked, bent with age, but the faded stencil
lettering is still visible --
“U.S. ARMY – RESTRICTED”
Jack stops cold.
Clare brushes away vines with her glove, exposing --
A yellowed “BIOHAZARD” sign.
Her breath catches. She fumbles for her inhaler -- takes a
deep inhale.
The metal door is buckled, one corner bent inward like
something forced its way through -- or out.
A black gap yawns inside, the air leaking cold and still.
Clare steps closer.
She glances back at the woods -- the trees are still.
Listening.
CLARE
So this is where they buried it.
Clare looks at the sign again.
CLARE (CONT'D)
Maybe this is where it ends.
She pulls a flashlight from her pack. Clicks it on.
She pushes the door wider with her shoulder.
The metal groans.
The door creaks open --
Darkness.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
19 -
Echoes of the Past
INT. ARSENAL - CORRIDOR - DAY
Flashlights cut through the darkness as Jack and Clare step
into the corridor.
Concrete walls sweat with condensation. Rust streaks like
blood down the seams.
Rotted warning placards peel off the walls --
"NO ENTRY – HAZARDOUS MATERIALS."
Clare’s light finds an overturned drum in the corner, its lid
corroded through.
A puddle of oily black liquid stains the floor, burning
faintly with a rainbow sheen.
CLARE
This place looks like it flooded
decades ago.
Jack sweeps his beam farther. He stops.
JACK
Clare. Look --
Jack flashes his beam to reveal --
A stack of skeletal remains lies half-collapsed against the
wall.
Not buried, not entombed -- some wear tattered fatigues.
The stench of rot and chemicals lingers in the air.
Clare covers her mouth with her sleeve.
Clare shines her beam at the door at the end of the corridor.
INT. BIOSAFETY LAB - DAY
The door swings open to reveal a decaying laboratory, half-
swallowed by vines and rust.
Jars clouded with sediment line the shelves.
A massive observation window, cracked but intact, overlooks a
containment cell filled with black moss spreading like veins.
CLARE
A lab. Not storage -- research.
Clare wipes condensation from an old command console.
Jack sweeps his flashlight across a collapsed viewing
station.
JACK
Old school hardware. Pre-digital.
Still humming.
CLARE
These consoles are tied to the
mainframe. Maybe there's something
left.
She flips a cracked toggle.
BUZZ.
A nearby monitor flickers. Static.
Then --
BEEP.
ON THE MONITOR --
PROJECT APEX – CLASSIFIED - DATE REDACTED
Jack and Clare exchange a glance.
She hits play --
BEGIN ARCHIVAL FOOTAGE - BLACK AND WHITE
Crude and chilling.
– Black-suited HAZMAT SOLDIERS haul cages of animals.
– Inside one -- A colossal MOUNTAIN LION.
– TITLE CARD: "DR. RAY LOCKWOOD – Lead Biochemist"
Clare stares -- frozen.
CLARE (CONT'D)
(barely a whisper)
Dad...
END ARCHIVAL FOOTAGE
BEGIN CAMCORDER FOOTAGE
Handheld, shaky.
DR. MALCOLM GREAVES (50s) stares into the lens, pale and
sweating.
Behind him -- sirens flash inside a sealed steel corridor.
DR. GREAVES (V.O.)
Log fifty-one. Breach event.
The footage glitches.
He coughs. Blood hits the lens -- black, tar-like.
DR. GREAVES
It thinks in waves --
The footage glitches again.
Greaves pans the camera, revealing --
A cracked containment chamber.
Inside --
A shifting, sinewed mass of organs, bone, and shadow --
pulsing with a golden glow.
Static flares. More flashes --
– A SOLDIER screams as veins burst from his eyes.
– A mass of fused corpses pulses like a living altar.
Back to Greaves -- his face slack --
The monitor screen cuts to BLACK.
END CAMCORDER FOOTAGE
BACK TO LAB
Silence.
Clare steps back from the console, pale.
Jack lowers his rifle, stunned.
JACK
You never mentioned you're father
wore the uniform.
CLARE
He was a scientist, not a soldier.
Jack moves to a dusty filing cabinet. Opens it. Inside --
Old lab logs.
He takes out a water-damaged logbook. Opens it --
JACK
"The spore infection has shown
incredible results in amplifying
neural activity in animal brains."
Jack turns the page --
JACK (CONT'D)
Looks like they used Human DNA as
some kind of binding agent... so
humans are immune to it.
Jack turns the page again. His eyes widen. Something on the
page strikes fear in him.
He freezes.
Suddenly --
Whispers echo from the hall.
Jack drops the file.
Metal scrapes.
They turn -- rifles raised.
Jack kills the monitor --
Darkness rushes in.
Thick. Heavy. Alive.
Something brushes past the doorframe -- wet, dragging.
A silhouette lingers just outside the glass window.
It shifts unnaturally -- like a shadow underwater.
Jack shoulders his pack -- backs away from the door, tense.
Genres:
["Horror","Sci-Fi","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
21 -
Pursuit in the Shadows
INT. CORRIDOR - DAY
Clare and Jack sprint down the corridor.
Their footsteps echo into the dark.
Above them --
A BULKY, OUTDATED SECURITY CAMERA hangs crookedly from a
rusted bracket.
Its lens -- cracked but functional -- slowly swivels.
A small red LED blinks steadily -- mechanical, indifferent.
The light pulses like a heartbeat. Watching.
The scraping rises to a fever pitch.
From the darkness behind them --
TWO YELLOW EYES ignite. Unblinking.
Then --
A massive creature charges from behind them -- its enormous
limbs echoing like a drumbeat.
Massive claws rake across concrete walls -- sparks fly.
Another set of eyes flickers behind the first.
Then another.
The corridor shakes with the force of pursuit.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
22 -
Fleeing the Darkness
EXT. ARSENAL - ENTRANCE - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)
Clare and Jack burst out of the steel door, stumbling into
the open air.
They scramble across the slope, panting, weapons raised.
Behind them --
The dark mouth of the arsenal looms.
Then --
MULTIPLE SETS OF YELLOW EYES IGNITE IN THE DARKNESS.
Not two. Not four. Dozens.
Yellow eyes glow -- shift -- multiplying in the shadows like
a blooming fungus.
A chorus of growls rises -- inhuman -- hungry.
Jack and Clare freeze for a beat, stunned by the impossible
sight.
Jack’s shoulder's tense. Rifle steady.
Then --
They turn, racing down the mountain trail.
The storm breaks overhead --
Snowflakes rain down sideways, carried by the wind.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
23 -
Shadows of the Past
INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Snow slams against the windows in thick sheets.
Sheriff Bauer sits behind his desk, rolling a toothpick
between his teeth, eyes heavy-lidded but sharp.
Clare and Jack stand across from him -- posture rigid, the
air between them thick with tension.
CLARE
There's an arsenal up there,
Sheriff. What was it really?
Sheriff Bauer doesn’t answer right away.
He just stares, long and flat, as if he’s weighing how much
truth she deserves.
He exhales through his nose.
SHERIFF BAUER
Some things don't stay buried. They
wait.
Sheriff Bauer tilts back in his chair. The old wood creaks.
His hand drifts across his desk to an old silver flask.
He unscrews it, takes a slow drink, never breaking eye
contact.
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
Back in the Cold War, they built
something up there. Army boys
rolled in -- trucks, fences,
floodlights. Said it was “storage
and testing.”
(beat)
Then one winter -- they vanished.
No trucks. No men. Just... gone.
Clare stills.
CLARE
Vanished?
Bauer nods -- slow, deliberate.
A flicker of something old in his eyes.
SHERIFF BAUER
Whole damn operation wiped clean
overnight.
JACK
What were they testing?
Bauer shifts his toothpick -- jaw tight.
SHERIFF BAUER
Nobody ever said. But people
talked. Said there was a breach.
Something got out. Then the Army
sealed the place and hauled what
was left to NORAD -- thirty miles
east of here.
Clare frowns.
CLARE
And nobody’s been up there since?
Bauer lets the toothpick fall --
It lands with a soft tick against the table.
SHERIFF BAUER
Depends what you mean by “nobody.”
Every few months...
(MORE)
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
black trucks come through. No
plates. Always at night.
Clare and Jack exchange a look, unsettled.
The wind screams outside --
Windows tremble like they might shatter.
Bauer leans forward, voice lowering to a rasp --
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
Whatever’s still up there --
they didn’t bury it deep enough.
The lights flicker...
Then DIE.
The fire becomes the only light, throwing wild shadows across
their faces.
JACK
(under breath)
And there goes the power.
The office is swallowed in silence, except for the wind
tearing at the building.
Clare clicks on her radio -- static.
She pulls out her cell -- dead.
Jack checks his. Nothing. They turn toward Sheriff Bauer.
SHERIFF BAUER
Storm’s taken the lines. We're on
our own now.
A powerful gust shudders the entire building.
Then --
A sound rises under the storm. Low. Guttural. A growl. Not
close, not far. Moving.
Jack grips his rifle tighter, scans the window...
The growl echoes again, closer now.
A chorus of branches snap in the dark.
Clare takes a step toward the window -- stops short when she
sees Sheriff Bauer’s face -- not surprised.
He’s pale, jaw set, eyes locked on the storm outside -- like
he’s been waiting for this night for a long time.
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
Folks around here talk about the
spirits in the mountains, warning
us to stay out. But I think maybe
the spirits were never the problem.
Maybe it was us all along.
CLARE
Superstition may comfort you,
Sheriff, but it doesn't make it
science.
SHERIFF BAUER
Keep your science. The mountains...
they've got a long memory. And
sometimes they send things back
that we're not ready for.
Sheriff Bauer grabs his twelve-gauge from behind the desk,
racking it with a metallic snap.
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
The diner’s got backup generators.
We can hole up there till mornin.
Jack exhales, chambering his rifle, but his eyes never leave
Sheriff Bauer.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
24 -
Night of Terror
EXT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE - NIGHT
The storm rages, a howling whiteout devouring the street.
Snow blasts sideways in violent sheets.
Clare, Jack, and Sheriff Bauer burst from the office, rifles
clutched tight.
Their boots sink into drifts, breath fogging instantly in the
frozen air.
JACK
Stay on me! Don’t lose sight!
They push forward, bent against the gale.
The diner’s neon sign glows faintly through the storm --
A trembling red beacon half-swallowed by snow.
From above --
A low, guttural growl cuts through the wind. Almost human.
Clare freezes, whipping her rifle around.
Snow whirls so thick it blinds her -- nothing but white.
Then --
A MASSIVE SHADOW LAUNCHES FROM THE ROOFTOP
A shadowy beast pounces on Sheriff Bauer in a flash --
sending him through the air.
The beast’s razor claws tear into his throat --
His body collapses to the snowy ground --
The twelve-gauge spins into the blizzard -- vanishing.
The beast pins him -- claws elongating into barbed hooks, and
drives through his chest --
The snow beneath him instantly flowers red.
Clare and Jack whip up their rifles.
BANG! BANG!
Muzzle flashes strobe the storm.
Both rounds hit the beast -- blood mist bursts into the snow.
But the beast barely flinches.
Its head tilts unnaturally, neck bones popping --
It fixates on Clare -- staring.
Sheriff Bauer thrashes beneath it, blood pouring from his
wounds.
SHERIFF BAUER
(choking)
Help -- help me.
The beast ROARS, the sound splitting the night like a
thunderclap.
Its claws rake downward --
Splitting Sheriff Bauer’s coat, flesh, and ribs in one
effortless motion --
Blood sprays across the snow in arcs, steaming in the cold.
His scream curdles into a bubbling gurgle.
The beast lowers its head -- bites into his skull with a wet,
horrifying CRUNCH.
A toothpick falls into the snow, stained red.
Then --
Stillness.
Clare’s hands shake on the rifle.
Her breath catches in her throat, eyes wide with shock.
Jack grabs her arm, yanks it hard.
JACK
He’s gone! He’s gone -- let's move!
The beast lifts its gore-slicked muzzle, releasing a low,
resonant GROWL.
From the swirling white all around them, other growls answer.
Shadows shift in the blizzard.
Yellow eyes ignite in the dark.
Clare and Jack sprint toward the diner’s flickering neon glow
-- their figures swallowed by the storm.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
25 -
Diner of Despair
INT. DINER - NIGHT
The door slams open -- wind howls in, carrying flurries of
snow.
Clare and Jack stumble inside, soaked, pale, streaked with
Sheriff Bauer’s blood.
The door whips behind them -- they throw their weight into it
-- force it closed.
Behind the counter, Sandy freezes mid-pour.
WALTER (70s), a hunched old miner with cataract-clouded eyes,
sits behind the counter.
BILL (60s), broad, scarred, whiskey in hand, looks up from
his booth in the corner.
SANDY
You two look like you saw the devil
and shook his damn hand.
CLARE
Lock all the doors. Now.
The words hang in the air like smoke.
Bill chuckles darkly, shaking his head.
BILL
Storm spooked you that bad? Hell,
girl, it’s just weather.
Jack slams a bloodied hand on the counter with a sick SPLAT.
Cups rattle. The room stills.
JACK
Sheriff Bauer’s dead.
A silence falls. Deep. Suffocating.
SANDY
How?
Clare hesitates, eyes darting to Jack.
CLARE
Mountain lion. But not the kind you
know.
A shadow passes over the frosted window -- massive, fluid,
predatory.
BILL
I've hunted worse than a rogue
mountain lion, sweetheart. They
bleed and die just like us.
The fluorescent lights flicker, buzz, then dim.
The diner hums with static and tension.
THUD.
The wall shudders.
Cups jump -- silverware clinks.
SANDY
(whisper)
What was that?
THUD.
Then --
A slow, dragging scrape -- metal against metal -- moves down
the outer wall. Deliberate. Patient.
Jack raises his rifle.
Sandy bolts the doors.
Bill mutters curses under his breath -- does not move from
his booth.
Walter drags a chair, wedging it beneath a window.
Through the frost --
Two yellow eyes glow faintly, moving along the window like
lanterns in fog.
Then --
The lights DIE.
BLACKOUT.
The hum of electricity disappears.
Silence hangs heavy.
Then --
CLICK.
A lighter flickers in Jack’s hand -- the small flame
illuminating his hard features.
JACK
Stay silent. Don't move.
The lighter's flame quivers as he steps forward.
Somewhere in the dark --
A fork drops.
The metallic sound is deafening.
The kitchen door cracks open just an inch.
A draft of cold air snakes through.
Snowflakes scatter across the floor.
Then --
SHHHK.
A scrape against the window glass.
For an instant -- three sets of glowing yellow eyes appear in
the window.
Then darkness swallows them.
Clare raises her rifle.
Her pulse pounds in her ears, syncing with the groan of the
wind outside.
Jack edges toward the kitchen door, rifle raised, lighter
trembling.
Through the kitchen door’s crack --
A faint shimmer of fur and the sound of wet breathing.
Then --
The flame flickers out --
Darkness consumes the room.
Then --
The sound of something dragging metal. Slow. Heavy.
Jack sparks the lighter again --
The glow reveals a crouched shape, enormous -- hunched
between steel racks.
Its maw glistens with teeth dripping black saliva.
It looks up --
SNAP.
The lighter dies again --
Darkness.
Silence.
Stillness.
Suddenly --
The beast bursts from the kitchen in an explosion of motion.
Clare fires --
BOOM!
The blast blows apart the pie carousel --
Glass rains down.
The beast slams into a booth near Bill --
Claws carve through vinyl and wood like tissue.
Bill sits still. Silent.
Then -- unsheathes a large hunting knife.
He stands up -- lunges for the beast --
He plunges the knife into the creature’s haunch -- the blade
biting into its hide.
The beast ROARS.
It swipes -- catches Bill’s arm.
Bill’s body slams into the wall -- arm hanging by threads of
flesh.
SANDY
Oh my God!
Clare fires again --
BOOM!
The round hits -- the creature’s shoulder bursts in black
spray.
Before the beast can react --
Jack grabs a fire extinguisher -- unleashes a blizzard of
white --
The lion reels, momentarily blinded, its tail whipping,
smashing cups and plates.
CLARE
Take cover behind the counter!
Sandy sobs into her sleeve as she and Walter crawl behind the
counter.
The room falls silent. Still.
Then --
THUMP.
From above.
Snow falls from the rafters.
THUMP. THUMP.
JACK
Shit. They’re on the roof.
The ceiling groans.
Beams SNAP.
Suddenly --
A LION crashes down in a blur of SNOW AND CLAWS.
Another crashes down from above.
WALTER
We can’t stay here! We need to go
to the old mine tunnel. It’s just
past the gas station.
Bill groans in the wrecked booth, half-conscious, blood
seeping from his shattered arm.
BILL
He’s right. The mine tunnel ends at
the radio tower. We can call for
help there.
Clare and Jack exchange a grim, wordless look.
CLARE
We’re gonna die if we stay here.
Jack reloads.
JACK
Then let’s get to the mine tunnel.
The lions pace in the shadows.
BILL
Leave me --
-- In a flash, a lion pounces on him, engulfing him in one
brutal SNAP.
Bone cracks -- blood spraying the glass.
CLARE
Don't think! Just run!
Jack hurls a chair toward the beast. Fires as he moves --
BOOM! BOOM!
The blast blows out the front window --
The cold rushes in -- the neon “OPEN” sign flickers like a
dying heart.
They shove through it, Sandy and Walter first, Clare and Jack
behind.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
26 -
Escape from the Alpha
EXT. MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS
The group bursts from the broken window into the whiteout
storm.
Wind shrieks like a banshee, snow blinding.
Jack shoves Sandy and Walter ahead of him, rifle raised.
Clare freezes mid-step.
Cold sinks into her bones -- not from snow, but from
something darker.
She turns slowly toward the diner...
Through the blowing snow and flickering neon haze, it stands
--
THE ALPHA.
Towering. Primeval. Wrong.
Vast as a transport truck. Waiting like a judgment.
Molten gold eyes burn through the blizzard --
Its head -- crowned with BUFFALO HORNS, flashes red from the
dying neon sign.
Its fur writhes in the wind --
A shifting tapestry of shadow and sinew, like it's stitched
from nightmares.
A cauterized surgical incision runs vertically down its
chest, sealed with metal sutures -- half-rusted.
The beast lifts its head --
Time stops.
The air grows thick, viscous in Clare’s lungs.
Snow hangs mid-fall.
Then --
The Alpha inhales.
Its chest blooms outward, ribs cracking like trees in the
wind.
It ROARS.
Windows SHATTER.
The neon sign detonates, flaring like a dying star.
Glass rains down in fire-laced shards.
From the broken windows of the diner --
LIONS SPILL OUT.
EXT. GAS STATION - NIGHT
The group stumbles past the dark, snow-buried pumps.
Walter points with his lantern.
WALTER
Tunnel’s there -- just down the
hill!
The group pushes into deeper drifts.
From the rooftops, SHADOWS lunge -- lions bounding across
snow-laden beams, following like specters.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
27 -
Into the Depths of Doubt
INT. MINE - ENTRANCE - NIGHT
The noise of the storm fades -- replaced by the rhythmic drip
of melting snow and the distant groan of ancient beams.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Clare leans against a wall, catching her breath.
Her face is pale, eyes unfocused -- half adrenaline, half
shock.
Jack kneels near the entrance, checking his rifle, hands
trembling.
The tunnel breathes. Alive. Watching.
Mineral veins shimmer faintly along the walls -- veins of
light woven into ancient stone.
Jack glances at Clare.
JACK
You always this calm when hell
breaks loose?
Clare gives a wry, flat smile, but it never reaches her eyes.
CLARE
No. Just too tired to panic.
Jack exhales.
The silence stretches -- oppressive.
He reaches up and touches his cross -- the chain worn, metal
dulled by years of sweat and fire.
JACK
"Be still, and know that I am God."
CLARE
Faith is for people who can’t stand
the silence.
JACK
Maybe the silence is how God
listens.
They lock eyes -- not romance, but recognition
Behind them --
A loud CRACK echoes from deeper in the mine -- just a beam
settling... maybe.
They all freeze.
The sound fades.
SANDY
I can’t stay down here. I can’t...
I can’t breathe.
Clare kneels by her, gripping her shoulders.
CLARE
We don’t have a choice. This is the
only shelter we’ve got.
WALTER
This mine runs deep -- two miles or
more. Cuts all the way to the radio
tower on the south ridge.
(beat)
Might be our only shot.
The silence returns.
Jack eyes Sandy and Walter -- really sees them for the first
time.
JACK
Do you two pray?
Sandy blinks -- startled.
Walter shifts uncomfortably.
SANDY
I used to. My grandma made me fold
my hands so tight they ached. Said
the tighter you hold on, the faster
God hears you.
(beat)
But I stopped. Long time ago.
JACK
Why?
SANDY
Because people like my grandma kept
dying. And then my son got sick
with cancer and left this world
when he was just six.
She takes a deep breath. Holds her arm to her chest.
SANDY (CONT'D)
Why would I worship a god that
would take him away from me?...
Walter clears his throat.
WALTER
I prayed one night in sixty-
eight... The first night I really
prayed. I was in a foxhole near Khe
Sanh. Prayed I'd make it home.
(beat)
Been a church going man ever since.
Jack nods -- solemn.
Another drip lands on Clare’s cheek -- thick, black.
She wipes it off slowly, smearing it between her fingers --
It glistens, alive.
She turns to Jack.
CLARE
Let's keep it moving.
Jack shoulders his rifle, but his eyes linger on Sandy.
JACK
You stay close. No matter what you
believe in... just believe we walk
out of this.
Sandy nods, barely.
They gather their gear.
Somewhere deep below, the mine groans again.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
28 -
Echoes of Dread
INT. MINE TUNNEL - NIGHT
Jack lifts a lantern, illuminating the tunnel ahead --
Old mine carts, rusted rails, wooden beams half-collapsed.
The air grows heavy, dense with dust and something metallic.
A faint hum rises from deeper inside -- a vibration through
the rock.
Clare presses her palm against the wall -- it’s warm.
Faint whispers seem to curl out of the stone itself -- voices
layered within the wind.
Clare shuts her eyes tight.
When she opens them -- Jack’s watching her.
JACK
You okay?
CLARE
Thought I heard a voice.
JACK
Wind likes to pretend.
Walter coughs, wiping his mouth.
Sandy curls tighter, muttering prayers under her breath.
A soft vibration moves through the floor.
A distant growl -- low, guttural -- rolls from deeper in the
tunnels.
Then -- a second growl. Closer.
CLARE
Move faster.
Walter grabs his lantern.
Jack raises his rifle.
The light dances on their faces as they press deeper into the
mine, shadows elongating behind them like claws.
The tunnel breathes like a lung exhaling beneath the earth.
SANDY
Feels like we're walking through
something alive.
Jack raises his rifle -- scans every dark opening.
JACK
Keep your eyes forward.
Clare pauses.
The tunnel walls glisten with something black and wet -- like
oil but thicker, veined with faint luminescence.
She runs her hand along the stone -- jerks her hand back --
The residue moves, crawling across her glove like living tar.
They push deeper.
Clare freezes.
Her light falls on a half-buried wooden crate, swollen with
rot and webbing.
The faded lettering is barely visible --
“DANGER - HIGH EXPLOSIVES.”
Jack crouches beside her, brushing away grime.
JACK (CONT'D)
You thinking what I’m thinking?
Clare pries the lid open with a rusted crowbar -- the wood
splinters --
Inside --
Sticks of dynamite, wax casings bloated with age.
SANDY
You sure that stuff won't take us
with it?
CLARE
Safe's not the goal. The boom is.
Jack sniffs one, grimaces.
JACK
Sweating nitro -- she's volatile,
but alive.
Clare and Jack fill two canvas sacks, hands trembling as dust
motes dance in the beam of light.
The air tastes faintly of sulfur and decay.
A faint scraping echoes down the tunnel.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
29 -
The Heart of the Mountain
INT. MINE CHAMBER - NIGHT
The tunnel widens into a massive chamber --
Walls streaked with black residue glimmer faintly gold under
the lamplight.
Clare stops dead --
Dozens of ELK CARCASSES sprawl across the cavern floor --
Frozen mid-motion, as if they’d collapsed in agony at once.
Their eyes are milky white.
Their flesh is bloated -- streaked with strange ridges
beneath the hide.
Sandy clutches her chest, sobbing.
Walter drops to a knee, crosses himself.
WALTER
Holy God in heaven.
Jack steps forward, his boots crunching bones buried in the
dirt.
He kneels beside one elk -- its ribcage caved outward -- bone
splintering out like spears.
The flesh around the wound -- black and webbed, pulsing
faintly beneath frost.
Jack presses his gloved fingers to the wound -- the skin
twitches beneath his touch.
He jerks back.
The lantern flickers.
Clare covers her mouth.
The stench is overwhelming -- blood, rot, and something
sweet, chemical.
Walter’s lantern flame elongates, bending toward the center
of the chamber.
Clare follows the light --
Then she sees it --
A MOUND of fused corpses -- elk, deer, bears -- melded
together by hardened sinew and bone --
They twist into a pulsating mass -- the size of a small
house.
It breathes.
The group stares, paralyzed by awe and horror.
The MOUND's surface ripples, wet and glistening.
Antlers and limbs jut out at impossible angles.
Beneath the translucent tissue --
Shapes move -- something still alive inside.
A POP echoes --
One of the bodies shifts.
A jaw falls open, releasing a hiss of fetid air.
Walter stumbles backward, clutching his chest.
Jack steadies him -- but his face is pale.
Clare steps closer, her breath fogging the air.
Her eyes go distant -- scientific instinct warring with
primal terror.
CLARE
The heart of the mountain. A
hive... one mind, a thousand nodes.
Her flashlight trembles in her hand.
She leans closer.
Beneath the tissue, something moves --
A thick root-like tendril presses upward through flesh --
toward the surface.
It breaks through with a wet snap --
Black fluid spills out, reeking of metal and decay.
Clare staggers back.
The ground shakes.
The MOUND shudders.
Jack yanks her away -- the MOUND SPLITS open.
A massive cavity unfurls from the center --
Inside --
Hundreds of tangled sinewy cords pulse like veins, threading
through carcasses.
Glowing veins extend outward -- through the rock -- as if
feeding the entire mountain.
The chamber trembles.
An elk twitches -- head jerking, mouth opening in a soundless
cry.
Then another.
And another.
Their limbs spasm -- cracking bones, rising like marionettes.
The MOUND exhales -- a hot, wet breath.
Spores drift into the air -- shimmering like golden dust.
Clare inhales sharply --
Her pupils dilate. The world tilts...
Sound distorts...
Every drip --
Every breath --
Stretches into deep, distorted echoes.
A heartbeat -- not hers -- throbs in her ears.
Through the haze --
Her father stands across the chamber, smiling faintly.
CLARE’S DAD (V.O.)
The tree remembers what the axe
forgets.
She blinks --
He’s gone.
Jack’s shouts, distant -- muffled --
He pulls Clare back.
JACK
Don’t breathe that in!
Clare coughs, choking -- black residue on her lips.
Her flashlight beam catches movement --
Tendrils retract, sliding back into the earth like serpents.
The MOUND slumps, as if retreating -- watching.
Jack drags Clare away.
The cavern shakes.
The ceiling groans -- cracks, raining dust and ice.
Then --
The tunnel collapses behind them.
The roar of shifting rock and snapping timber chases them
like thunder.
Clare stumbles, dizzy -- her vision swimming in a faint
golden haze.
Jack hauls her forward, shouting over the noise.
JACK (CONT'D)
Don’t stop!
The MOUND’s heart pulses, faster and faster --
The group runs full tilt -- coughing, stumbling, lights
slicing through smoke and dust.
From somewhere in the mine tunnel --
A ROAR -- a sound deeper than thunder, shaking the earth.
SANDY
I can’t -- I can't keep up.
JACK
Just a little further. You can do
it.
They round a bend -- reach a fork.
The left tunnel slopes downward into waterlogged blackness.
The right tunnel rises gently -- the air is colder, tighter.
Clare stands frozen, her eyes scanning the walls.
She touches the stone -- her breath fogs gold.
! ! ! CLARE
Left is safer -- that ridge is
breathing wrong.
Walter steps forward, lantern in hand.
! ! ! WALTER
I worked these tunnels for forty
years. Right leads out. Trust the
rock, not your gut.
Clare doesn’t move. Her jaw clenches.
! ! ! CLARE
It’s not stable. It’ll collapse.
Walter looks down the tunnel --
He hesitates.
Then --
He reaches into his coat and pulls out a small photo from his
wallet --
It's a picture of a young boy, smiling beside a rusted truck.
He tucks it back into his pocket -- tightens his grip on the
lantern.
! ! ! WALTER
Got a grandson in Gunnison --
Spencer. Seven. If I don’t walk
out, tell him his granddad kept his
word.
Heavy silence.
! ! ! CLARE
! ! You have mine.
He turns -- then ambles up the right tunnel.
The shadows eat him quickly.
Then --
CRACK.
A tremor ripples through the stone.
The ceiling weeps dust.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
30 -
Trapped in the Dark
INT. MINE TUNNEL - NIGHT
Walter moves steadily, breath rasping.
The tunnel squeezes inward, stone tight like a throat.
His lantern flickers.
Then -- a low, rhythmic groan.
He stops. His eyes are wide.
The wall beside him pulses -- just slightly -- as if
something has shifted behind the rock.
CRACK.
A spiderweb of fissures shoots up the wall.
The floor dips.
Walter turns back -- runs.
BOOM.
The ceiling gives --
Rocks tear free like teeth.
A massive slab crushes his leg with a sickening CRUNCH.
Walter howls, pinned --
He tries to drag himself backward -- nails scraping stone.
He reaches for the photo in his coat -- pulls it halfway out
-- looks at it.
WALTER
(whisper)
Love ya, Spence...
The mountain groans.
Then --
Silence.
The photo flutters from his hand -- vanishing in the dust.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
31 -
The Living Mountain
INT. MINE TUNNEL – NIGHT
The tunnel narrows, forcing Jack, Clare, and Sandy to climb
on hands and knees through a steep incline.
The stone tightens like a gullet, slick with condensation.
Walls close in with every foot forward.
Above them --
Drips of black water fall in intervals -- rhythmic and wrong.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Each one echoes like a countdown.
Clare’s boot slips in a shallow puddle --
It ripples. Not outward -- inward, waves contract toward her
as if pulled by a pulse.
Her hand drifts to the wall beside her.
Beneath her fingertips, the rock quivers --
A subtle but unmistakable pulse.
A second heartbeat, layered beneath her own.
Thicker. Deeper.
She gasps -- her head jerks back as if struck.
Her vision flickers gold --
The darkness around her warps at the edges like melting
celluloid.
CLARE
(whisper)
It’s syncing.
JACK
Clare -- hey. Hey! Look at me!
He grips her shoulder, trying to anchor her.
But she doesn’t look at him. She looks at the walls.
CLARE
It’s breathing.
(beat)
The whole mountain.
A low groan rises from deep below --
Something alive.
The tunnel expands -- walls push outward, as if inhaling.
Then --
A violent exhale.
And suddenly --
CRACK!
A JAGGED BONE-LIKE SPEAR bursts through the tunnel wall with
sickening force --
It skewers Sandy through her lower abdomen --
Her scream rips the air apart.
She’s lifted a foot off the ground, impaled mid-stride.
Her eyes widen -- blood pouring from her mouth.
JACK
Sandy!
He spins, raises his rifle --
BOOM! BOOM!
Muzzle flashes light up the tunnel in violent bursts of
orange.
Bullet impacts spark against stone, but the bone doesn’t
retreat.
Sandy convulses -- pinned like meat.
Clare scrambles to her, grabbing her hand.
CLARE
No -- no, no, no -- stay with me.
Sandy’s blood pours fast. Too fast.
She grips Clare’s sleeve with white-knuckled desperation.
SANDY
You promised... we’d walk out of
here...
CLARE
We will -- just stay with me --
Sandy’s body jerks violently --
The bone twitches inside her, twisting.
Her face distorts -- eyes go black.
SANDY
(distorted)
We remember...
Clare recoils.
The tunnel walls ripple, stone softening into muscle.
The spear twitches -- then begins to withdraw, pulling Sandy
in.
CLARE
No -- No!
She grabs Sandy’s arm, but the mountain is stronger.
Sandy screams again -- not fully human now.
Her body gets dragged -- inch by inch -- into the wall.
Her hands claw at the air -- nails scraping bloody crescents
into the stone.
JACK
Clare -- let her go!
Clare holds on -- eyes wild, desperate.
SANDY
(in Clare's Dad's voice)
In here. The world stops...
With a final, grotesque jerk -- Sandy's gone. Swallowed.
The wall seals shut with a wet, organic sigh.
Veins pulse once -- then vanish.
From the sealed stone --
Sandy’s scarf flutters down like falling ash. Blood-soaked.
Torn. Still warm.
It lands at Clare’s boot.
She stares at it.
Frozen.
Shaking.
Her breath hitches -- then breaks.
CLARE'S DAD (V.O.)
It's alive, everything up here is.
The voice is inside her skull now. Echoing --
Too close. Too intimate.
Jack crouches beside her, a hand on her shoulder.
She doesn’t move.
Silence returns.
Dense.
Clare folds the scarf, slowly -- reverently -- and tucks it
into her jacket.
Then she rises.
Her gaze drops -- and for the first time, we see it --
Her eyes.
In the shadows, something faint glimmers beneath the surface
of her irises --
A pulse of molten gold -- like distant embers under a sheet
of frost.
Clare blinks.
When her eyes open again -- it’s gone.
Or hiding.
CLARE
Let's move.
And they do -- disappearing into breathing darkness.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
32 -
Into the Darkness
INT. COVE – MINE SHAFT – NIGHT
Dust floats in the air like ash.
Jack and Clare wedge themselves into a narrow stone recess --
A dead-end crevice, half-collapsed and barely wide enough to
breathe.
The walls sweat. Water drips through the ceiling, the sound
rhythmic, like an organic clock.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Clare sits hunched, her back to the wall, shivering. Her arms
hug her chest. Her breath stutters, catching in her throat.
Jack kneels beside her, reloading his rifle with hands that
aren’t steady anymore.
CLARE
How deep do you think we are?
JACK
Too deep to matter.
(beat)
It’s just pressure now. Earth
pressing in like it wants you back.
Clare gives a shaky laugh, more a breath than a sound.
CLARE
You make everything sound biblical.
JACK
Everything down here is.
A long silence. The kind that listens back.
CLARE
I used to think silence meant
safety. Now it just sounds...
hungry.
Jack turns his eyes toward her -- really looking now.
JACK
You ever prayed, Clare?
CLARE
Not since I was a kid. I used to
think faith’s what people cling to
when science stops making sense.
(beat)
Now... I'm not so sure which one's
lying to me.
JACK
Maybe faith’s not about truth.
Maybe it’s the thing that lets you
keep walking when both of them go
quiet.
Clare looks at him -- the flickering lantern paints his face
in amber and shadow.
CLARE
Jack... I’m infected.
JACK
How do you know?
CLARE
The vision. The pulse. We thought
only animals could catch it...
(beat)
But I feel it inside. Something...
Jack closes his eyes -- doesn’t flinch -- doesn’t doubt.
JACK
I saw your father’s name in the lab
log.
(beat)
He didn’t just engineer the signal.
He used his own DNA as the binding
agent.
Clare lets it sink in.
CLARE
My blood.
JACK
He built a firewall -- a key.
Thought only he could open the
door... but he made another version
of himself without realizing.
Her jaw tightens. Eyes glassy.
Silence weighs heavy.
CLARE
So I’m the doorway.
JACK
And maybe you’re the one person who
can shut it.
The words hang.
The mountain groans softly -- distant, but intimate.
Clare grips the stone behind her --
The wall pulses -- subtly -- as if it’s breathing beneath her
skin.
CLARE
They didn’t just poison this place.
They woke it up.
JACK
How do we stop it?
CLARE
We sever the connection. Use the
dynamite to create an avalanche --
cut off its oxygen, bury it deep
enough to break the signal.
Jack nods -- removes his cross necklace.
He holds it for a moment, then presses it into Clare's palm.
JACK
In case you forget which parts of
you are still human.
Their fingers linger -- close enough to feel each other’s
heat in the cold.
Then --
A distant sound echoes from the tunnel --
Low. Guttural. Like something exhaling wet breath through
hollow lungs.
They freeze.
A GROWL comes from the tunnel.
Jack tightens his grip on the rifle -- knuckles pale.
A second growl. Closer. Throaty.
Something massive shifts in the dark beyond their cove.
Two yellow eyes ignite in the dark -- just beyond the
lantern’s reach.
Jack grabs her arm.
JACK (CONT'D)
This is the part where we don't
look back.
They rush from the cove -- swallowed by blackness, footsteps
pounding like a heartbeat.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
33 -
Sacrifice in the Shadows
INT. ESCAPE HATCH LADDER - NIGHT
The tunnel trembles with the distant roar of lions, echoing
like thunder through bone.
Jack and Clare reach the base of a rusted ladder.
It climbs upward -- a relic bolted into the stone.
JACK
Climb. Go!
Clare hesitates -- then climbs.
Her slick, trembling hands grip each rung.
Jack follows.
Every step CREAKS.
The air tastes of rust and blood.
The roars grow closer.
Something moves below --
Fast. Heavy. Alive.
A low growl rolls up the tunnel, vibrating through the metal
ladder.
Clare looks down --
Yellow eyes bloom in the dark. Dozens. Watching. Advancing.
JACK (CONT'D)
Don’t look down. Just go!
Clare climbs harder, boots scraping steel.
Jack’s flashlight swings wildly -- the beam slicing over
shapes in the dark --
Sinew. Claws. Teeth flashing wet.
Then --
A lion leaps --
It hits Jack mid-ladder -- raking its claws deep across the
back of his legs.
Blood spatters the rungs.
JACK (CONT'D)
Faster, Clare!
Clare reaches the hatch, tries to pry it open --
It won't budge. It's frozen -- sealed by ice.
CLARE
Come on!
Clare sobs, pounding on the hatch with every muscle in her
body.
Jack looks down --
The lion below him crouches again -- shoulders twitching,
ready to leap.
Another lion prowls behind it --
Tail flicking, jaws gnashing in anticipation.
He releases one hand and pulls a knife from his belt.
The blade gleams faintly in the flickering light.
The first lion lunges --
Jack drives the knife into its skull as it collides with him
--
The impact slams him against the ladder.
Bone cracks.
The lion’s momentum tears the blade free, tearing Jack with
it.
He loses his grip --
SLAMS backward, spine-first --
And falls into the nest below.
CLARE (CONT'D)
Jack!
The tunnel erupts in a cyclone of snarls --
A dozen YELLOW EYES blink open at once.
The swarm collapses in on him, a blur of fur and claws.
Clare can only watch -- helpless -- through a veil of dust
and blood spray.
Claws rake across Jack’s ribs.
Teeth sink into tendons.
His boots kick, slipping in crimson.
He fights, snarling back at them like one of their own --
then rips a stick of dynamite from his belt.
Fumbling. Bleeding. Teeth at his throat.
He pulls a lighter from his pocket -- lights the fuse --
SPARK.
JACK
"And the earth opened its mouth and
swallowed them."
His arm flails upward, the dynamite in one hand, the other
bloodied, trembling.
JACK (CONT'D)
(rasping)
Bury it, Clare.
SNAP.
His arm breaks sideways --
Sucked down into the maelstrom of flesh.
BOOM!
The blast hits like a freight train --
The tunnel walls shudder -- the hatch quakes.
A roar of flame and ruptured meat swells beneath her.
The howls turn to screams, then silence -- the kind that
rings.
Clare blinks. Smoke fills her lungs.
She slams her shoulder against the hatch -- once -- twice --
CRACK!
The hatch splits open.
A shaft of moonlight cuts through the dark --
Sharp. Silver. Cold.
She gasps, crawls up toward the moonlight.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
34 -
Echoes of Grief
EXT. MOUNTAIN WILDERNESS - NIGHT
Clare slams the hatch closed behind her — the boom of metal
against steel echoes like a gunshot through the frozen air.
She collapses into the snow, hands shaking violently.
Gasping. Choking. Grieving.
Her breath clouds the air, each exhale laced with a faint,
unnatural golden shimmer.
Beneath her, the mountain shudders —
Alive.
A low, rhythmic thrum pulses up through the ice and stone,
like a sleeping beast shifting in its sleep.
CLARE
Jack...
She leans forward, presses her forehead into the snow,
muffling a ragged sob.
She turns her head, still half-buried in snow, and stares
back at the sealed hatch.
She sits up, face pale, skin cold.
Her hands tremble as she holds them out in front of her.
Tiny black veins pulse beneath the surface, threading like
roots. Foreign. Wrong.
She watches in silence.
She grips Jack’s cross necklace, now around her neck —
fingers curled around it like a lifeline.
The mountain groans in the distance -- distant, vast,
eternal.
She rises slowly. Not steady. Not whole. But upright.
One last look at the hatch.
Then she turns, limping into the snowstorm, the night
swallowing her silhouette.
Her breath trails behind in golden clouds.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
35 -
Struggle Against the Storm
EXT. MOUNTAIN WILDERNESS - NIGHT
A whiteout blizzard rages -- snow tears sideways like knives.
The world is reduced to blur and noise.
Clare staggers through knee-deep drifts, her parka shredded,
face ghost-pale.
Her eyes -- rimmed red, glassy -- flicker with faint golden
veins creeping toward her pupils.
The storm’s howl swallows her footsteps.
Up ahead --
A skeletal silhouette looms through the chaos --
THE RADIO TOWER.
Bent, skeletal, trembling in the wind.
Clare stumbles -- drops to one knee.
Snow cakes her gloves.
She forces herself up and limps toward the tower --
Each step feels heavier, as if gravity itself resists her.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Survival"]
Ratings
Scene
36 -
Into the Abyss
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
The wind hits a new pitch -- more scream than howl.
Clare emerges into an unnaturally flat expanse -- a frozen
lake buried beneath drifts.
Her flashlight beam cuts through flurries, its weak cone
swallowed by the storm.
She coughs violently, doubling over -- one hand pressed to
her chest.
Her breathing wet now -- rattles with fluid.
Then she sees it --
Faint pulses of yellow light beneath her skin.
Veins glow faintly along her wrist.
Clare stares at her hands, horrified.
The wind gusts violently.
She trudges forward, ice groaning under her boots.
CREAK.
She stops, breath caught in her throat.
The sound echoes again --
Long. Low -- like a massive lung exhaling beneath her.
Clare lowers her flashlight toward the ground.
The beam glides over the surface --
ICE WEBS CRACK BENEATH HER IN A LIGHTNING PATTERN
WHOOSH.
Clare plunges into darkness.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
37 -
Descent into Darkness
INT. UNDERWATER - CONTINUOUS
Shock hits Clare like a bolt of electricity --
Her lungs seize -- her screams lost in a burst of bubbles.
Freezing water wraps her like a coffin.
Her flashlight tumbles away, its beam spinning, illuminating -
-
Pale human faces frozen in ice, mouths open in eternal
screams.
She kicks upward, muscles seizing, fingertips scraping at the
under-ice surface.
The cracks glow faintly. Her flashlight's beam fades.
The infection burns in her veins -- a warmth that shouldn’t
exist.
Her mind fractures between panic and fever.
Her thoughts distort, echoing in her skull like whispers.
She punches the ice, desperate, hands bleeding.
Her lungs convulse. Her body spasms.
She claws upward --
Hits harder --
Then --
The ice breaks open.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Survival"]
Ratings
Scene
38 -
Emergence from the Abyss
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - CONTINUOUS
A HAND BURSTS THROUGH THE ICE.
Clare drags herself out, gasping, retching water.
Steam rises from her body despite the subzero air.
She collapses on the surface, trembling violently, coughing
up black fluid laced with flecks of gold.
Her breath fogs the air -- the vapor faintly shimmers.
For a moment, she lies motionless.
Then, slowly, she lifts her head.
The storm has quieted -- not ended, but muffled, as if the
world is holding its breath.
The radio tower looms ahead --
Skeletal, half-encased in frost, cables whip like snakes in
the wind.
Clare crawls toward it, her hands leaving bloody handprints
in the snow that glow faintly yellow before fading.
The wind shifts.
A deep, rhythmic rumble rolls beneath her --
Not thunder, not avalanche. Something alive, breathing.
Clare crawls the final yards to the base of the radio tower.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Survival"]
Ratings
Scene
39 -
Nightmare on the Mountain Ridge
EXT. MOUNTAIN RIDGE - NIGHT (DREAM SEQUENCE)
Clare opens her eyes.
She’s ten years old, bundled in a red winter coat, her small
hand clasped in her father’s.
They stand on a high, snow-covered ridge.
The world is breathtaking --
Frozen peaks glow under a violet aurora.
The air feels clean, sacred.
Her father -- younger, in his army parka -- looks down at
her, warm and alive, his breath fogging in the twilight.
CLARE'S DAD
This is what we made, Clare. Let me
show you.
He walks ahead, leading her up through the snow.
Each step she takes, the snow deepens.
Her small boots sink until she can barely move.
CLARE'S DAD (CONT'D)
Come on, kiddo. Don’t fall behind.
She tugs at his hand -- but his grip feels different --
Harder. Clawed.
Clare looks down --
The hand she holds isn’t human --
It’s rough, veined, covered in patches of fur and cracked
hide.
She looks up --
Her father’s parka hood whips back, the fabric snapping in
the gale --
Then she sees it --
His face --
A ruin of man and beast -- half-human, half-lion -- the merge
imperfect, horrifying.
Golden eyes burn beneath the hood, molten and wild, pupils
quivering like candle flames in a draft.
His lips pull wide --
Teeth spill past the edges of his mouth --
Too many, too sharp, glistening like wet glass in moonlight.
Clare stumbles backward --
The ridge beneath her feet moves.
The snow ripples -- the mountain breathes, pulses.
Black veins spiderweb beneath the surface, glowing faintly
like embers.
The horizon bends.
Her father’s shape towers now, spine arched, limbs distorting
--
Then --
The mountain splits open.
A roar shakes the sky.
Clare SCREAMS.
END DREAM SEQUENCE
Genres:
["Horror","Fantasy"]
Ratings
Scene
40 -
Climbing the Abyss
EXT. RADIO TOWER BASE - NIGHT (BACK TO PRESENT)
Clare jerks awake, gasping, clinging to the bottom of the
ladder.
Her breath steams in the freezing air.
The radio tower looms above, skeletal and endless.
She blinks, trying to shake the dream --
But her fingers tremble unnaturally, twitching with delayed
spasms.
Black veins pulse faintly beneath her skin.
She looks at her hand --
The faintest trace of dark fur clings to her palm before the
snow melts it away.
Clare pushes herself up, body shaking.
Her face hardens -- half fear, half resolve.
She climbs.
The mountain hums beneath her -- a deep, living vibration.
Snow drifts swirl around her like ghosts.
Her breath glows faint gold in the dark.
She climbs faster, the infection pulsing through her veins
like molten light.
Wind howls through the twisted metal ribs of the tower.
Below her --
Ice fractures in slow, seismic groans.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Survival"]
Ratings
Scene
41 -
Desperate Transmission
INT. RADIO ROOM - NIGHT
A control room measuring ten by ten feet.
The air is thin. Cold. Heavy with rust and mold.
Clare steps into the narrow space --
A single metal chair sits in front of a battered radio unit.
She brushes snow and grime from the control panel, revealing
faded stenciling --
“U.S. ARMY - EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM”
The radio -- a clunky relic from another era -- all knobs, no
screens.
A cracked frequency dial glows faintly orange.
She hesitates. Takes a breath. Then flips the toggle.
The unit hums to life -- low, guttural -- like the mountain
itself is listening.
She leans into the mic.
CLARE
This is CPW Officer Clare Lockwood
requesting emergency evac from the
Black Ridge radio tower.
I repeat -- emergency evac.
A hiss of static fills the air.
Then --
A cold, mechanical voice crackles through, distorted by
distance.
MILITARY OPERATOR (V.O.)
Copy that, Officer Lockwood. Help
is on the way. Stay where you are.
The sound of her name through the static feels alien --
distant, wrong.
CLARE
Who is this? What -- what unit?
MILITARY OPERATOR (V.O.)
Hold your position. Do not attempt
to leave the area.
The radio clicks dead.
Clare’s trembling hand lowers the mic.
The light on the console flickers red -- then goes black.
Silence.
Clare stares at the lifeless console. Her breath stutters.
One blink. Then two.
Then the tears come -- quiet, like she's afraid the mountain
might hear.
She presses her palms to the console. Her forehead follows.
A raw sob tears out before she can stop it.
She sinks to her knees. Shoulders shaking.
She bites her lip to keep from screaming.
The walls seem to pulse -- slow, golden -- like the thing
below is breathing with her.
Clare gasps like she’s been hit.
Then --
Stillness.
She sits upright. Slow inhale. Slow exhale.
Tears still streak her face, but her spine straightens. Her
eyes sharpen.
Not broken. Hardened.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
42 -
Containment Breach
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
Through the blizzard, six figures emerge --
Faceless beneath hazmat helmets, rifles raised.
Their headlamps sweep over the snow like hunting beams.
They move with eerie synchronization --
No shouting, no coordination, just silent precision.
INT. RADIO ROOM - NIGHT
Clare watches from the window, eyes narrowed.
Then she spots it --
The mine hatch at the edge of the clearing --
Open. Steam rises from it like breath.
The hazmat soldiers stop near it, exchange a look.
Something trembles beneath the snow around them.
The first soldier looks up --
He spots Clare in the radio room window.
Then --
BANG!
Glass EXPLODES inward.
Clare dives for cover as gunfire rips through the cabin --
Bullets whine off metal.
She crawls behind the desk, glass slicing her palms.
Her infected veins pulse brighter under the skin, responding
to her adrenaline.
CLARE
This isn’t a rescue. This is
containment.
A sudden ROAR shakes the tower.
Suddenly, the gunfire below stops.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
43 -
Night of the Golden Lions
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
Snow whips in horizontal sheets, devouring all light and
sound.
The hazmat soldiers trudge forward through the white void --
Six ghosts in yellow suits, flashlights cutting thin tunnels
through the storm.
Each step is tentative, sinking an inch deeper into the snow
than the last.
The low vibration beneath the ground grows stronger --
A tremor, rhythmic, like a heartbeat buried miles below.
SOLDIER 1 (MUFFLED)
You feel that?
SOLDIER 2
Must be --
CRACK.
The word dies in his throat.
The earth shifts beneath them -- a shuddering groan like the
mountain exhaling.
They freeze.
SOLDIER 3
Wait -- hold posit --
BOOM!
The ground ERUPTS in a geyser of snow --
TWO MASSIVE LIONS EXPLODE UPWARD.
The beast’s eyes flare gold -- molten and ancient.
A lion lunges at SOLDIER 1 --
The lion's jaws snap his helmet in half.
Bone splinters, flesh peels.
His body folds backward, spine arching until it breaks clean.
SOLDIER 2 opens fire --
Muzzle flashes strobe through the whiteout.
The second lion moves like vapor -- one moment solid, the
next a blur.
In a flash, the lion smashes into SOLDIER 2 like a freight
train --
Its claws cleave through his armor like wet paper.
His torso separates from his legs -- his upper body flung
into the storm --
Blood arcs in perfect ribbons before vanishing in the wind.
The remaining soldiers fan out, panicked, beams flailing
wildly across the storm.
INT. RADIO ROOM - NIGHT
Through a cracked pane, Clare peers out, quivering.
The flashes of gunfire strobe across her face, revealing
veins of gold crawling along her neck.
She watches the soldiers dissolve into chaos.
Clare grips the window ledge, nails splitting.
She wants to look away -- but can’t.
Her reflection in the glass stares back at her --
She's pale, feverish -- veins glowing faintly beneath the
skin.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
44 -
Confrontation in the Blizzard
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
SOLDIER 3 staggers to his knees, chest heaving.
His visor is cracked -- we see the reflection of the tower’s
faint light across his terrified eyes.
He lifts his rifle, hands trembling.
Snow shifts behind him.
He spins, fires --
Nothing.
Then he hears it --
A low, wet sound -- like something breathing through water.
He turns slowly --
Behind him --
The snow rises in a perfect, circular mound.
It splits open like a wound --
A lion emerges --
This one even larger, its hide split by glowing fissures that
pulse with yellow light.
Its mouth opens -- a wet, gurgling rasp.
Drool steams as it hits the snow.
The soldier backpedals, slips.
In a flash, the lion’s paw slams down on his chest.
Armor collapses. Bone implodes.
The storm howls in circles.
SOLDIER 4 crawls free, dragging his shattered leg through
crimson slush.
His respirator hisses with every breath.
Behind him --
Shapes move under the snow, circling, restless.
He collapses, choking, trying to reload.
Something vast rises behind him -- a silhouette more
monstrous than the others --
THE ALPHA.
It stands completely still, massive, towering, matted fur
rippling in the wind.
The eyes are not fully animal. Not fully human -- they're
something else entirely.
It pauses. Studies him.
Through the blowing snow, we see the creature’s face --
Mangled yet majestic, fur matted with frost and flesh.
Its chest moves with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Its breath glows faintly golden.
The soldier turns -- barely able to lift his weapon.
The Alpha lowers its head to his level -- inches from his
mask.
Steam mingles between them.
Then --
A sound.
Not a roar. Not a growl.
A human sigh, warped and drawn through a throat not meant for
speech.
The soldier’s eyes go wide.
He shakes his head in disbelief.
The Alpha's jaws snap open and devour his head in one,
shattering bite.
Blood mists across the storm.
The blizzard resumes its rage, erasing everything in white.
All that remains -- the sound of the wind and the faint,
rhythmic pulse beneath the snow.
INT. RADIO ROOM - NIGHT
Clare flinches back from the window, shaking.
Her veins shimmer like threads of liquid gold.
Her pupils flicker, narrowing to feline slits.
Her reflection in the cracked glass catches her eye --
For the first time, she doesn’t fully recognize it.
Her skin glows faintly beneath the surface.
Frost blooms along her jawline, veins pulsing like roots.
She presses her trembling fingers to the glass.
EXT. RADIO TOWER - NIGHT
The blizzard knifes sideways.
The tower sings -- metal ribs shrieking in the gale.
Clare bursts out of the radio room.
She looks down at her hands --
Raw -- split skin laced with faint golden threads crawling
under her knuckles.
She breathes through the pain. Focused.
CLARE
No more running.
She slings a canvas satchel with the dynamite over her
shoulder and steps down onto the ladder.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
45 -
Climbing Through Shadows
EXT. MOUNTAIN RIDGE - NIGHT
The snow churns sideways -- a white ocean swallowing sky and
ground alike.
Clare climbs through it --
Staggering, half-blind, her breath catching in shallow gasps.
Gold light pulses beneath her skin like bioluminescent roots
spreading through her bloodstream.
Her boot slips on the ice --
She drops to one knee.
She looks at the ridge ahead --
An impossible slope disappearing into a white abyss.
The wind shifts.
Suddenly --
Shapes stir in the snow --
Faint, translucent figures emerge, climbing right beside her
--
Her father, his coat heavy with frost, and Jack, wearing his
army uniform, their faces blurred, hollow-eyed, but kind.
They climb with her -- silent, steady.
She digs her boots into the slope, pulling herself higher.
A low growl ripples through the blizzard -- distant but
growing closer.
She freezes, the wind slicing her face raw.
JACK (V.O.)
"For dust thou art, and unto dust
shalt thou return."
Clare grasps the cross necklace around her neck, holding back
tears.
CLARE
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Her breath comes in ragged bursts, each exhale trailing a
faint yellow mist.
Clare staggers upward -- slips again.
Her palm slaps the ice -- her infection flaring.
Steam rises where she touches, the surface melting beneath
her hand.
She looks up --
For a moment -- the storm stills.
Snow falls gently, suspended in the air.
The mountain exhales, and everything breathes with her.
Her body and the mountain -- no longer separate.
A single tear crystallizes on her cheek -- glowing gold.
Then the moment breaks --
A distant ROAR shatters the calm.
The mountain shakes beneath her boots.
Clare clenches her jaw, trudges forward.
Her eyes -- now bright, feral gold.
Behind her --
The ghosts of her father and Jack fade into the white abyss.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
46 -
Avalanche of Desperation
EXT. RIDGE - NIGHT
The ridge rises in jagged terraces, a black spine under white
fangs of cornice.
Wind screams along the rock, peeling snow into banners.
Clare climbs --
Boots scraping ice, breath shredding her throat.
The infection thrums with each heartbeat, a hot coil in her
chest.
LOW GROWLS roll in the whiteout -- behind, then left, then --
Everywhere.
EXT. RIDGE - LIP OF THE CORNICE - NIGHT
A narrow shelf.
Clare crawls, belly to ice, peering over --
An open bowl, heavy with loaded snow --
The perfect avalanche face.
She claws at a fissure, revealing --
A thin blue seam of hard ice buttressing the slope --
A weak plane.
She shoulders off the satchel, working with shaking hands --
She tucks three sticks of dynamite into a natural crack --
Then snakes an old blasting cord into the crevice.
A shadow moves in the white below --
Then another.
YELLOW EYES blink, then disappear.
Clare forces her breathing to stay steady, but her chest
wheezes, wet.
She pulls her inhaler from her pocket -- hesitates, drops it
--
It disappears into the whiteness beneath her.
She coughs -- black flecks spit into the snow, blooming gold
before fading.
She digs for her lighter.
It slips -- skittering to the edge.
She lunges -- catching it between bleeding fingers.
Clare lights the fuse of the blasting cord.
Sulfur sparks -- hissing.
Clare dives behind a toothed outcrop and clamps her jaw --
grasping her hands around the cross on Jack's necklace.
A heartbeat. Two. Ten.
Nothing.
Wind shrieks.
Then --
BOOM!
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - NIGHT
A cathedral wall of snow peels from the mountain in slow,
apocalyptic grace.
For one impossible second, the slab hangs -- a frozen sea
rearing --
Then it collapses --
The avalanche drops -- accelerating into a torrent of rocks
and ice --
A white tide engulfs the bowl in a cacophony of crashing
rocks and ice.
Then --
Silence.
A new landscape -- smoothed, flattened, erased.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Survival"]
Ratings
Scene
47 -
Clare's Reckoning
EXT. RIDGE - NIGHT
Clare staggers up, coughing, half-laughing.
Suddenly, her smile dies --
A shape coalesces in the white --
THE ALPHA.
Its eyes burn deep metallic gold, pupils narrowing, widening.
It takes one step --
The ridge dips under its weight.
Clare steps to the edge of the cornice. Looks down --
Fear and sadness cloud her eyes.
She closes her eyes -- one step away from falling to her
death and ending this.
Then --
Something inside her pulls her back from the edge --
An animal instinct.
She must survive.
She turns to the Alpha, raising her knife --
The Alpha lowers its head -- then tilts it in an almost human
curiosity.
Thump... Thump... Thump...
The Alpha's eyes pulse rhythmically -- in sync with the
mountain.
ALPHA
(in Clare's Dad's voice)
The mountain remembers, Clare.
Her gut flips.
CLARE
Come take me, you son of a bitch.
I'm the Apex now.
The Alpha lunges -- a white blur.
Clare drops, the wind of its claws shearing her hair.
It misses her -- slamming into a rocky outcrop.
The Alpha ROARS -- pivots with terrifying grace.
Clare staggers up. Ready.
The Alpha pads toward her, breathing slowly.
Clare grips the knife tightly in her hand.
She lunges -- not at the beast --
Past it, toward the cornice lip she just blasted --
She slides on her belly --
Snatches a shattered length of blasting cord still half-
frozen in a crack.
The Alpha pounces --
The cord jerks taut across its forelegs --
It stumbles, skids, claws flensing ice.
Clare whips the cord around its neck and yanks --
Rides its back like a bull as it rears, bellowing steam.
The cord slices -- skin peels, revealing --
Luminous tendons flexing like harp strings.
The Alpha rolls --
Clare lets go -- tumbles over the cornice edge --
She clings to the top of the cornice with one hand, her other
hand holding her knife.
She pendulums in empty air, feet kicking.
The abyss roars beneath her.
Above her --
The Alpha peers down, steam pouring from its mouth.
Its chest rises. Falls. Listens.
Suddenly --
She bursts upward, clearing the cornice lip --
A one-armed pull-up fueled by rage --
And drives her knife into the Alpha’s jaw hinge.
CRACK.
The hinge pops.
The beast roars -- softer, wounded.
Clare rips the knife free and slams the blade into its throat
seam --
Up and in.
Black-gold blood geysers.
It splashes her face, eyes, lips.
The Alpha convulses -- pins Clare under one paw --
Clare's ribs crunch.
The veins under her skin flare bright --
Gold lightning crawls up her neck and temples.
Clare’s pupils contract to slits.
For a heartbeat, she sees as the Alpha sees --
- The ridge as a warm vascular map.
- The mountain’s heart pulsing beneath.
She shudders -- fighting herself.
The Alpha’s eyes blow wide with sunburst gold.
It rears -- flings her aside like a rag doll.
The Alpha staggers --
Blind, boiling from within --
It charges her by sound --
Clare surges up -- wrapping both hands around its neck.
She wrenches with everything human and not.
SNAP.
A terrible, decisive pop.
The great head of the Alpha lolls.
Its body folds, kneels.
Then --
The beast slides -- slow and regal, over the edge.
Clare collapses on the cornice lip, blood steaming off her in
mist.
Then --
Stillness.
Silence.
Genres:
["Horror","Survival","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
48 -
Embrace of the Wild
EXT. RIDGE - MORNING
The storm thins. The black sky bruises to indigo.
Clare lies curled on the rock, her eyes open to the colorless
world.
The gold in her veins dims, then brightens, as if deciding.
She looks down the valley --
The avalanche path is a white tongue licking the timber.
No movement.
Her fingers spasm -- nails lengthen. Razor fine.
Her breath fogs gold.
Thump... Thump... Thump...
Her veins answer, pulsing in sync.
She claws at her throat --
Skin webs with black threads glinting amber -- then it
recedes.
Her pupils flicker, from round to slit to round.
Her teeth ache -- roots lengthening with tiny, murderous
pains.
She catches her reflection in a shard of blue ice jutting
from the cornice --
Her eyes are golden, predatory, ringed with frost --
A woman and an animal nested in the same face.
She takes a step -- wobbles --
Drops to one knee.
Her hands touch the snow -- steam rising where her skin meets
the ice.
When she lifts her palms, the prints glow faintly gold before
they fade.
Clare rises.
Then --
Her posture changes --
Her hips lower, shoulders angle -- weight shifts forward.
Efficient. Predatory.
Pain recedes, replaced by a clear, violet focus.
She walks into the treeline -- each step softer than the
last.
The wind stills.
The trees lean.
Then --
She drops smoothly onto all fours --
Her fingers splay in the snow.
Her nails -- now claws -- black at the tips.
The ground is warm.
It throbs faintly -- a pulse beneath her palm.
Clare’s breath slows... deepens... matches the rhythm.
Her chest rises and falls in time with the mountain.
Her breath curls in slow, intelligent ribbons, coiling like
signal smoke.
She raises her head --
Her eyes catch the light --
Her pupils narrow -- molten gold, predatory, alive.
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP...
The pulse of the mountain. Her pulse.
CLARE
(whisper)
I hear it now, Dad.
She inhales -- her breath merging with the mist, syncing to
the mountain’s rhythm.
Then --
She tears the cross from her neck, metal flashing before
vanishing into the dark pines.
Her eyes slit —- luminous, feral.
She crouches. Moves. Silent as snowfall.
We glide behind her --
The forest bows, bends, breaths in unison.
JACK (V.O.)
And I looked, and behold a pale
horse -- and her name that sat upon
it was Death... and Hell followed
with her.
She runs faster --
A blur of muscle and light.
A shadow reborn.
JACK (V.O.)
And power was given unto them...
to kill with sword, and with
hunger, and with death... and with
the beasts of the earth.
The world ascends.
Trees collapse into streaks of motion.
The Rockies swell upward -- vast, alive --
Veins of molten gold pulsing beneath the snow.
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP...
A ROAR tears through the valley --
Half mountain, half woman --
The sound of nature reclaiming its crown.
FADE OUT.