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by joshua dyer (drumjedi76@gmail.com)

Rated: R   Genre: Horror   User Review:

The powers terrorizing the McAllister estate aren't the only ones seeking peace.

This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express written permission of the author.


A small group huddles around a large elegant wooden table.
Fluttering candles illuminate only fractured pieces of their
faces. A lean teen squirms in his chair. All eyes in the
party turn to SEAN DOUGLAS.
Flickering flames. Dancing shadows
upon the high walls. A
great room, like a cave. Our
circle is joined. Everyone's
here, hand in hand around a
massive round table. My heart's
beating out of my chest.

Going to a campout with some
friends. Lies. Mom's gonna
have my ass. Cameras roll from
their hidden perches.
When you're ready, Sean.
The ghost hunter's brown glare
seems disquieted. His black
hair concealed beneath a matching
knit beanie. Summit
Paranormal Investigations.

My palms are cold and wet. DONNA
turns a perturbed eye
down on me. Probably grossed out
by my sweat.
                       DR. BENSON
If you please.
Dr. Benson's low voice reeks of impatience.
A psychologist. Figures.

I can't help it. My stomach spins
into nauseated knots. I'm only
sixteen! I didn't ask for this. No


                       SEAN (cont'd)
one asked me if wanted this gift.
The stale coldness of this
once elegant estate closes in all
around my skinny body.
Should've worn a heavier jacket
for this.

I clear my throat and close my
eyes. My senses assure me
the others have followed suit.
Deep breaths in through the
nose and out the mouth. My
muscles release.
                       DR. BENSON
      (into recorder)
Subject has begun. Entering
His words bounce around in the empty void.
                       DR. BENSON
      (into recorder)
Breathing appears normal. No signs
of distress.
Dark forces. Too many to count.
One shoves its way forward
into my body.
      (gutteral tone)
Trespassers! All of you. Common
All I can do is watch. I stand
frigid beside my body while these
entities have their way.
Leave my house!
Donna jumps at Sean's side in her chair.
My limp arm falls. Her squeal
betrays her disbelief. College


                       SEAN (cont'd)

The dark man passes. My torso
convulses at the arrival of
      (girlish squeal)
No, daddy. Don't!
It's a little girl. Seven at most.

The smell of daisies and
Do you smell that?
Her button nose searches the room.
Cinnamon rolls?
I sense it too, hot stuff. Sorrow
and misery overwhelm everything.
An older presence jars me.
      (female tone)
Henry, please.
      (internal dialog)
Now, the girl's mother.
You don't know what you're doing.
Sean's terrestrial arms fling out above the wide polished
      (female tone)
Give me our child, Henry!
I'm out of my body. Floating over
the table.


Sweet Christ.
This will put you on the map,
Dougie boy.
Benson's gray head of hair drifts closer. His little red
light blinks.
                       DR. BENSON
      (into recorder)
Subject now speaking in various
voices. Male, female, and young
female child. Note: research split
personality disorder later
Dumbass. You don't have a clue.
PATTY BENSON'S hands fly up over her trembling mouth.
Oh, my God!
My voice. So strange.
                       DR. BENSON
      (into recorder)
Subject is now wailing like a
newborn baby. While humanly
possible, the likelihood is low.
A sharp gust of wind howls around the old dual-pane window
behind them.
My head lulls from side to side.
Eyes clamped shut.
Doug turns his head into the shadows beside him. His
colleague, JAKE, sits mortified behind his camera.


Jake. Please tell me you're still
rolling on this.
The camera jockey grumbles.
A wild sensation of flying.
Sean's whipping arms slap Donna on one side and Dr. Benson
on the other.
Cold water everywhere. Daylight
twinkles on the ripples. Sinking
Dr. Benson jumps out of his chair.
                       DR. BENSON
He's turning blue!
Doug rises from his perch and joins in the mayhem.
Sean! Sean, snap out of it!
Dr. Benson's meaty hand connects with Sean's cheek.
My body is my own again. A watery
bulge plugs up my throat.
Soon, a small fountain erupts from Sean's maw. His torso
reels forward onto the polished oaken table. More fluid
spews out into a large puddle.

Donna shrieks and backpedals, knocking over her chair.
This this is fucked up.
Stinging musty air gets to my
lungs. My vision returns. Watery,
but there.


Doug's hand slaps Sean between his bony shoulders.
Hey. You all right, pal?
I heave my dead weight up on both
elbows. I try to speak, but my
throat is dry as a bone. I nod.
                       DR. BENSON
      (into recorder)
Medium has recovered from trance.
Spewed water all over himself and
the dining hall table. Uncertain
of its origins. McAllister Manor,
9:15 p.m. End session one.
Sean descends a large and opulent staircase from the second
floor of the McAllister mansion.
The putrid reek of fresh coffee
hits me like a ton of bricks at
the bottom of the left staircase.
Its twin sets in silence on the
other side of an indoor fountain.
This place is humongous. I run my
right hand along the wooden
banister. No dust after all these
years. Peculiar.
The kitchen buzzes with light mutterings and activity as he
      (pointing to
       laptop screen)
See it?
Jake nods. You could drive a semi through his mouth. Doug
scratches his frazzled black hair.
EMR waves all over him.
Ghost activity?


Doug takes another hit from his Styrofoam cup.
From the saddle bags under his
eyes, I'd say Dougie's been up
most of the night.
I've never seen magnetic
distortions of that magnitude on
one person before, man.
His cameraman lowers his bloodshot green eyes into his
freckled palms.
We've gotta call in the rest of
the team, Doug. This is legit.
They both turn and stare at Sean like he's grown a third
What's going on?
Doug waves him over.
Come here. You've gotta see this.
Their high-end tablet screen shows
me contorted in a large dining
chair. Everything's in shades of
gray except for a bunch of
twitching bands of color around
      (points to screen)
See those?
Sean nods.
They represent the change in the
magnetic field surrounding your
Doug takes another hit of his coffee.


We all have a little of it around
us at any given point in time.
Jake's stubby finger traces the colored lines on the screen.
Those are changes the magnetism
around you.
Can the Earth do that?
There's gotta be a reasonable
Jake's head shakes in silence.
Someone or something evoked those
shifts in the field.
Doug nods. He bobs his head toward the small table near the
bay windows.
They aren't of the same mindset,
Dr. Benson, Patty, and Donna huddle around a stack of
textbooks and loose papers in the breakfast nook.
I overheard him yelling her name
in the middle of their spat last
night. 'Patty, you're just
overreacting,' he had said.
For such a huge house, it has
thin walls.
'The hell I am,' Patty
had screamed back. 'You spend all
of your time with her!'
Something thumped on
their floor on the other side.
'Donna's my Grad.
Assistant, dear. This is a part of
her thesis.'
On and on, they went for the


                       SEAN (cont'd)
better part of an hour. I had
given up and buried my head under
my pillows around one.
He studies the trio wearing a guise of pity.
Now, they sat in peace. At least,
it looks that way.
Why do you say that, Doug?
The good doctor is a
Para-psychologist, Sean. He
believes that your condition has
more to do with your mind than
external forces.
Sean redirects their attention back down to the laptop.
Then, what about that?
The lines? Benson thinks I'm
wasting my time.
I walk over and pluck a doughnut
from its little white box next to
the sink. Glazed. Nice.
If the lines aren't ghosts, then
what are they?
Your body's distortions, camera
tricks, video editing.
He minimizes the window on the screen.
The list goes on and on.


A small tan envelope icon flashes on the lower task bar.
Doug opens his message.
Whoever Emily is, she's really
excited at the recordings of my
EMR waves, and will be here
tomorrow afternoon.
      (claps hands)
He leans closer to the screen as his hands fly over the
'Bring all of the usual gear. Don't forget the extra-long
extension cords!'
They comin'?
Doug nods and closes the email.
Em and Dylan will be here tomorrow
He snags a small notebook from his satchel and scribbles
down something.
      (to Jake)
We need to scope out this place
and plan a full investigation for
tomorrow night.
Yeah! I'll do a little more
digging in town on McAllister and
see what I can uncover. There's
more to this guy than we're
finding on Google.
Nice. I'm gonna walk the house and
figure out where the hot spots
Sean swallows the last bite of my breakfast and licks his
fingers clean.


Can I come, too?
Jake shrugs.
Why not? Meet me by the fountain
in twenty. I've gotta drop a deuce
I scuttle past Patty's outside
shoulder at the table. She glances
up at me for a fleeting moment,
smiles, and goes back into a pile
of papers.
There has to be a logical
She sounds like she's been backed
into the corner of an argument.
                       DR. BENSON
Two full liters of water, Donna.
He clacks something onto his laptop.
                       DR. BENSON
You saw it as well as the rest of
He could have chugged it prior to
the whole charade.
                       DR. BENSON
Forcing one's self to regurgitate
is possible, of course. The human
stomach can't hold that much fluid
at once, though.


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