Sample from an early draft of my attempt at a slow-boil horror script. I like the concept, but not sure about the main character yet. Needs a lot more exploration and work.
INT. suburban home - MORNING
Smiling benignly into a bathroom mirror, a 35-year old BUSINESS MAN dabs the cut on his cheek with a towel spotted red. Puts a band-aid over the small cut, adjusts his tie, puts on his coat, and pulls the cuff over a bandage on his wrist. The ding of a microwave sounds in the distance. He checks himself in the mirror and walks into the kitchen.
Humming; broken dishes and utensils strewn across the kitchen; shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. He pulls from the microwave an "I Love You" cup steaming with coffee, sips it, rinses it out, and puts it away. Car keys from a wall hook, slipping once, but the squeaking stops as he treads into the hall, leaving blood-soaked footprints in the white carpet. A skewed family portrait hangs on the wall.
EXT. suburban HOME - MORNING
The garage door opens, the car pulls out into the morning air. It rolls down the driveway, stops, then pulls on to the street of an idyllic suburban neighborhood, steam swirling in the garage's gaping mouth.
The road joins a busy street; commuter cars fill the lanes as traffic pours onto the pulsing freeway.
EXT. CITY - AFTERNOON
The afternoon passes in the city; people toil in their jobs, children play in schoolyards. The sky, a churning ocean of light and shadow, autumnal leaves cascading to the ground in mounds of yellow and gold. As the day comes to an end, nine-to-fivers litter the highways.
DISSOLVE TO:
ext. bar parking lot - evening
Cars fill the parking lot of a bar just off the freeway. A large red neon sign flickers to life against the dusk sky. The MAN'S car is parked in full view beneath it.
int. bar - evening
The bar is full of businessmen. Blending in with the other patrons yet oblivious to them, the MAN sits at the bar, scratching the bandage on his wrist, his tie hanging loose, his sleeves rolled up, empty beer glasses in front of him.
At the bar next to him, a middle-aged business man, DONALD McKenzie, orders a drink. Paying the bartender, he exposes a photo in his wallet.
man
(To DONALD)
Your family.
Donald
Excuse me.
man
That picture in your wallet...
DONALD looks at the picture before putting it away.
Donald
Yup, that's my family.
The MAN fishes out his own wallet and displays pictures of his wife and children.
man
This is my wife, Judith, my two little girls, Kristen and Sarah. They're six and eight. And this is my son Kenny--he just turned five.
Donald
Oh yeah? My oldest is five.
DONALD swigs his beer, while The MAN runs his fingers over the faces of his family. He sits the picture on the bar.
man
Do you live around here?
donald
No, I'm out from Rockridge, I'm just in town for the show. Yourself?
man
Just passing through.
Donald
Thought so. I can always tell the travellers from the locals. My name's Donald.
DONALD reaches across to shake the MAN's hand.
Donald (cont'd)
You travelling on business too?
man
No. I don't like to travel. It takes me away from my family.
ext. bar parking lot - night
The parking lot has thinned of cars. More semis and motorcycles fill the lot. Traffic has died to a trickle.
int. BAR - night
Fewer suit-and-ties remain. The bar clientele is becoming more colorful. Loud music pounds from a jukebox. Empty beer bottles and coffee cups are stacked in front of them.
Donald
Sounds like you got a good thing going. You thinking about having more kids?
Man
Yes. I love kids.
Donald
Man, I have a hard enough time handling just two. I don't know how you do it.
(Looking at his watch)
It's late. I need to head back to my hotel--I have to be up early for this damned show tomorrow. If I wasn't up for this raise, I would blow the whole thing off.
man
I'll walk out with you.
Donald
Where are you headed.
man
Home.
The two men leave the bar. As the bartender stacks their glasses, he notices the MAN's family photo lying forgotten under a glass. A ring of moisture from the glass encircles the family. He glances at it then tosses it in the waste.
ext. BAR - NIGHT
DONALD climbs into his car and closes the door. He starts the engine; outside, the MAN taps on the glass. As DONALD unrolls the window, the MAN leans inside to whisper something to him. Steam unfurls from the exhaust into the night air. The red neon sign crackles loudly, illuminating a glittering cloud of mosquitoes. The sign flickers with a brief violent spasm, then resumes its intense, unrelenting glow.
dissolve to:
ext. suburban HOUSE - night
The house is bathed in a flickering red luminance. Swathes of light from police sirens wash across the neighborhood like search lights. Investigating police officers swarm around the house. Curious neighbors crane to see around the bustle of activity while others host the platoon of news reporters clogging the street. Flashes of white light flicker inside the cordoned off house, as coroners record the grisly scene. Huddled on the doorstep, wrapped in a blanket, a frightened young girl gives information to two interviewing officers.
fade to:
ext. BAR parking lot - dawn
The neon sign is off. The parking lot is empty, except for a single car in the same spot from the previous night, now covered with a coat of frost.
ext. freeway - morning
A white 4-door Sedan races along the freeway, unimpeded by the traffic that clogs the opposite lanes.
int. donald's car - morning
Humming to himself with a benign smile, DONALD regards his family photo perched on the dash.
Donald
I do love my family. Very much.
The car takes an off-ramp.
ext. suburban house driveway - morning
A minivan occupies a driveway of a nice suburban home. JULES, a middle-aged woman dressed for work, with short black hair, struggles to buckle her two children in the car. JACK, 5, in shorts and T-shirt, plays with a toy airplane, getting it tangled in his mother's attempts to buckle him in. His younger sister, STEPH, 3, with long beaded hair, sits in the seat next to him in a colorful sun dress, unbuckling her own seat belt to win her mother's attention. DONALD'S car pulls into the driveway. The kids scramble out of their seats through their mother's legs to greet him. Throwing her arms up in resignation, JULES greets him too.
Children
Daddy!!!
Jules
Don! What are you doing home so soon?!?
DONALD leaps from his car to meet their embrace, then smothers his wife's astonishment in a crushing hug.
Donald
I missed you all so much. I can't tell you how much I love you.
Jules
We love you too dear. But shouldn't you be at the show?
Donald
I don't care about the convention. I care about only you. I don't want travelling to come between us anymore. C'mon kids, get back in the car. You too, Jules. I want to take my family out and have some fun.
children
Yaaahh!!
Jules
Hon, it's a school day--and a work day. I have to go in...
Donald
Other people can go in, but today we're going to have the time of our lives. You name it: the amusement park, a movie, arcades, the ball game...
Swayed by his enthusiasm, they all pile into the van, the kids cheering as they drive off. The Sedan sits alone in the driveway.
ext. amusement park - dusk
A still Ferris wheel is silhouetted against the setting sun. The amusement park is shutting down. DONALD and his wife amble along the empty thoroughfare. Satisfied and exhausted, they each carry a child passed out in their arms, along with various prizes and concessions. DONALD smiles at JULES.
Jules
Don, did something happen? You're seem so much happier.
Donald
No. You just mean so much to me. I want you and the kids to be happy from now on--nothing else really matters anymore.
Jules
If this is about the fight we had last week, I thought we worked it out. I don't want you to miss the show just because...
Donald
It's not about that, I promise. Look, if I told you it's because my boss gave me the raise after all, would that make you happy?
He answers her questioning look with a confirming smile and an awkward shrug.
Jules
Honey!! You got the raise? Why didn't you tell me?! I know how hard you've been working towards it.
She hugs him with the children sandwiched between them.
Jules (cont'd)
C'mon let's go home and tuck the kids in.
DISSOLVE TO:
ext. SUBURBAN HOUSE - MORNING
The morning sun glints off of the car windshields. Sprinklers kick on, casting a fine spray across the lawn.
INt. bedroom - morning
JULIE's sleeping face crumpled in the bedding; DONALD sits awake watching her, his face frozen in a benign smile. She wakes and see's the time with sudden alarm.
Jules
Oh my God! I'm late. Donald, did you hear the alarm go off?
JULES bounds out of bed and scrambles into the bathroom.
Donald
I turned the alarm off last night.
Jules
What?!? I can't believe you did that. I have a meeting this morning.
The water hisses loudly as she starts the shower.
Donald (O.s.)
Let's stay home with the kids today.
Jules
Hon, you know I can't do that.
Donald (O.s.)
Go in late then.
Jules
I am going in late, thanks to you. Come to think of it, so are the kids.
Can you take them in for me? I can still make it to my meeting if I hurry.
She jumps into the steaming shower, emitting a brief scream. DONALD's form stirs in strange positions under the bed cover.
INt. living room - morning
DONALD waits for his wife at the door. He's dressed in a robe. The children are sitting at the table, dressed in PJ's, waiting heavy-lidded for their breakfast.
Jules
(To her husband)
You better hurry.
Donald
We'll hurry. I love you.
Jules
I love you too trouble-maker. I really do (hugs him). I'll see you tonight after I stop by the store. Bye kids. Have fun at school.
JULIE hurries out, jumps in the van and speeds off in a breath of wet leaves. DONALD turns back to his children.
Donald
Get dressed kids. We're going out for breakfast!
stephanie
Yaaahh! I want waffles!
Jack
No, pigs in blankets!
dissolve to:
Int. Suburban house - day
The phone rings through an empty house. An answering machine picks up.
Co-worker (v.o.)
Hi Julie, this is Frank. Have you heard from Donald? We missed him at the show yesterday. His hotel told us he checked out and went home. Could you have him give us a call when he gets back? Thanks.
INT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - DAY
The front door rattles before flinging open against the wall, the keys dangling from the lock. Worn out from a long day's work, Jules fumbles her way in the darkened room, groceries in both arms.
JUles
Hey, where is everybody? I need some help with the groceries here.
She gropes for a light switch and turns on the light.
Donald & the kids (together)
SURPRISE!!!
She jumps back against the wall in shock, groceries dropping to the floor.
JUles
God, you guys gave me the start of my life. What is going on here?
Balloons and decorations adorn the dining room, behind which lay an unfathomable mess in the kitchen. She scoops up the fallen items.
Jack
We wanted to surprise you.
JUles
Well it worked. Can someone give me a hand? Whose idea was it to make me spill the groceries?
Donald
The kid's wanted to throw a surprise party for you. They thought you would like it.
Stephanie
We made cake.
She watches as their smiles fade to disappointment. On the table, a strangely improvised meal is set out, the crowning achievement, a candy-laced mound of brown frosting topped by a donut arc. Sighing with a half smile, she sets the bags on the table, lowers herself in the chair, wary of the dish before her.
Jules
Alright, you monsters. Let's eat.
DONALD and THE KIDS scurry to their chairs. She picks up her fork and picks at the dish.
Jules (cont'd)
So what are we about to eat?
Donald
I have no idea--the kids made it.
The kids beam with pride.
INT. bedroom - NIGHT
Removing her ear rings, Jules stands by the bed in a night shirt. She straightens the out bed, still a mess from the night before.
JUles
Honey, did you check the messages on the machine today? Your boss called.
In his underwear, DONALD splashes cologne on himself in the bathroom before dimming the lights and crawling into bed.
Donald
Yeah, I straightened it out with him. I cancelled the rest my appointments to take the week off.
JUles
The rest of the week? But what about the vacation we agreed to take. I thought you were going to save your vacation days...
Donald
Don't worry, we'll still take the trip. I just want to be with you and the kids.
JUles
Is that why you didn't take them in today? The school also called Don, for the second day in a row.
Donald
I'm sorry. It's just that I really need your love right now. The kids' too.
JUles
Why? What's wrong, hon?
Donald
I wasn't promoted, Jules--I was fired.
JUles
Oh no. Why-Why didn't you just tell me?
Donald
I didn't want you to worry.
JUles
Oh, baby. If I worry, it's because I love you. You don't have to lie to me. C'mere. Everything will work itself out.
She pulls DONALD inter arms. He seems to melt.
EXT. BAR PARKING LOT - Morning
A tow truck is winching up the MAN's abandoned car. The driver tosses his cigarette, climbs into the cab and pulls out of the empty lot in a cloud of exhaust, the car in tow.
ext. downtown - day
ELLE,33, an attractive woman with pixie-cut brown hair, light skin, wrapped in a long coat and scarf, darts across a busy street, armed with a slice of pizza in one hand, a cup of splashing hot coffee in the other, the morning edition rolled under her arm. Ignoring honking, irritated drivers, she bolts up the stairs into a building.
int. downtown newspaper building - day
Dodging past people, with the pizza stuffed in her mouth, she dismisses complaints with the wave of her free hand and bolts into her office, slamming the door behind her.
Int. EllE's office - DAY
She drops the morning's edition on a pile of papers cluttering her desk; the sounds of the frenetic activity outside muffled behind the door. She plops in her chair, unwraps her scarf and clips an article written by ELLE STRAFORD from the morning edition, pinning it onto a bulletin board cluttered with more of her printed articles.
She downs her coffee and turns to a monitor freckled with post-it notes. She furiously types at the keyboard, completing the day's article, while behind her the door inches open.
Before she can read the writing back to herself, she is interrupted by a voice:
male voice (o.s.)
My, my. Without the benefit of the spell-checker, Elle, you would by wholly unemployable in any writing profession.
Elle
Don't you have something better to do, like work?
She spins around in her chair to face RANDY smiling down on her.
Randy
Already done, honey. Unlike some people who never get to work on time, I actually meet my deadlines.
Elle
Well then why don't you seek kudos for your attendance record from somebody else, while I try to meet mine. Go tell Marty, he appreciates promptness.
Randy
I have a better idea my nocturnal friend, you can tell Marty yourself. He wants to see you in his office pronto.
Elle
I see you've climbed the ladder to corporate errand boy.
Randy moves towards the door, turns and gestures like a bad actor.
Randy
Though I do not take pleasure in that burden, it does on such occasions as this give me great joy to see you in trouble. Go now to your fate you wretched creature. Better to face its fury young before time fans its flames any higher.
Elle nudges her co-worker out the door on her way out.
Elle
Don't be such a drama queen. We still on for lunch?
Randy
Of course we are. You want to hear about my fiasco date with that guerilla don't you?
INT. editor's office - day
Elle pushes past the large door into a spacious office. Sitting in a wide vinyl chair, behind a large cherry desk is MARTY, the editor, a bald and stocky man, glasses perched low on his nose, his stubby fingers hammering away on a keyboard. Filing cabinets line the walls behind him like a barricade, stacked with boxes and lose reams of paper. Two monitors bookend the desk. An empty ashtray filled with mints sits within arm's reach of the chair.
Elle walks straight in and rests her knuckles on the desk, peering down on him. Marty glances up at her over his glasses, an stern expression carved in his face.
ElLE
Hiya Marty. I was just going to see you about my hours. I really need...
Marty
Have a seat Elle.
He motions to a small wooden chair next to her. She looks at it for a moment.
ElLE
Ah, c'mon Marty, you know I hate this chair. It makes me feel small.
He waits unblinking for her to sit.
She perches down on its edge, leaning forward with her hands gripping the desk. She cranes her up neck to see Marty behind the large monitors.
MARTY
Remember that little series you wrote on the importance of community a while ago? I want you to do a follow up story on it. We're going to take...
ElLE
You mean the 4-shooter we ran back in March? Are you serious? I had to beg you to take me off of that piece. Marty, is this really about my hours? If it is I...
MARTY
Elle, I want you to pick it up the story as...
ElLE
Okay, if you really want to dig it up, give it back to Jam, not me. You know I hate the sentimental stories. Can't I do something else. What about last night's news. I know Jake is on it, but I could run an editorial...
MARTY
You know Elle, if you would ever take the time to shut up, you might actually get what you want. Here's Jake's file...
He hands her a folder that she has to stand and reach all the way across the desk to get. She looks at it in astonishment.
MaRTY (cont'd)
I want you to pick the series up as a look at the collapse of community. I want a new story. Pull the archives for the last few years and dig up other stories like this. God knows we have enough.
Smiling, Elle peeks through the files like a kid.
ElLE
Sure. Yeah. Okay. What about Jake? I'm not taking this from him am I?
MaRTY
We're going to run parallel stories. He'll continue to cover last night's news, but I want you to go with this as an investigation into the wider effects this has on the survivors and the community. Is that alright with you, or should I give it to Jam?
He stares at her a moment from above his glasses.
Marty (cont'd)
That's what I thought. Now get to work.
Marty goes back to his task. Elle turns and heads to the door, but before she walks out, Marty stops her.
Marty (cont'd)
Elle, I like my writers to feel small. It puts them in their place. If you come in late again this week, I'll fire you.
ElLE
You got it, boss.
As he glances up at her from his work, she smiles at him then closes the door behind her.
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