Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - 9 Hours of Dark, Chilling Stories

Episode Date: December 7, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #nosleep #paranormal #creepy #DarkHorror #ChillingTales #MidnightTerror #FearUnleashed “9 Hours of Dark, Chilling Stories” delivers a marathon of fear — a haunting collection of terrifying tales that will grip your mind and twist your sanity. From ghostly whispers in abandoned houses to psychological horrors that crawl beneath your skin, each story plunges you into an unending night of dread. Perfect for horror lovers who crave the slow burn of fear, the eerie silence before a scream, and the darkness that never truly ends. horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, chillingstories, darktales, hauntednarratives, supernaturalhorror, truehorrorstories, ghostencounters, nightmarishstories, fearcollection, terrifyingtales, eerieaudiobook, spookynarration, horrorcompilation, midnightwhispers, shadowstories

Imagine a place where you can escape for a day. Get immersed in a world of rooms, inspiration and expertise, where you can lazy luxury accommodation. And kids can feast from 95 sets. Tickets are free to everyone and include all the attractions. You've just imagined a day out at IKEA. Ikea the wonderful every day. I've been thinking we need to talk to him about it.

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Get the facts about vaping and nicotine. I.e. forward slash vaping from the HSE. In France's royal court during the late 1600s, a scandal of staggering proportions shook the aristocracy, exposing secrets, poisons, and illicit love affairs. Marie Madeline Marguerite Di Aubrey, better known as the Marquise de Brin Villiers, became one of history's most infamous figures for allegedly orchestrating a series of poisonings aimed at eliminating her family members and freeing herself from her troubled marriage. Her story, both grim and fascinating, paints a vivid picture of deceit,

trail, and the lengths to which one would go for wealth and independence. Hashtag hashtag the Marquis' tumultuous beginnings. Born in 1630, Marie Madeline was the eldest daughter of Antoine Drew Diabri, the Lord of Offmont. With her mother passing away during childbirth, her father became solely responsible for her upbringing. He raised her to be the epitome of a noble woman, refined, educated, and well-versed in the expectations of high society.

Known for her grace, charm, and intelligence, Marie Madeline seems to be a bit of her name. destined for a life of prestige. Yet, beneath her polished exterior was a life filled with secrets, scandal, and dark ambitions. In her early twenties, Marie Madeline was married off to Antoine Goblin, the Marquis de Brinvilliers. Outwardly, their marriage appeared perfect, a textbook match for noble circles. But behind closed doors, the Marquise endured an existence far from blissful. The couple's relationship was strained from the start, with both taking lovers openly in flaunting their dalliances in public. While extramarital affairs were not uncommon among the aristocracy, Marie Madeline took it a step further, flaunting her romances

with expensive gifts and scandalous public appearances. Meanwhile, her husband developed his own vices, spending recklessly on gambling, fine wines, and a series of fleeting infatuations. As their marriage soured, Marie Madeline found herself drawn to a man named Jean-Baptiste Godin de Saint-Croy, a handsome soldier. Their affair soon became the talk of. of Paris. But for the Marquise, John Baptiste was not just a lover, he was an accomplice, a confidant, and later, a critical component in her plan to escape her marriage and secure her fortune. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the seductive appeal of poison. Their passionate affair took a dark turn when Marie Madeline's father discovered the relationship. Fearing the scandal

it might bring, he used his influence to imprison John Baptiste in the Bastille. This incarceration, however, had unintended consequences. While imprisoned, John Baptiste met an Italian named Exelai, a man reputed to be a master poisoner. In the confines of the Bastille, Exelai taught John Baptiste the art of creating nearly undetectable poisons, a skill that would prove invaluable to the Marquis's plot. Upon his release, John Baptiste shared his newfound knowledge with Marie Madeline. Together, they conceived a plan to eliminate anyone standing in her way of inheriting her family's wealth. In 17th century France, women often had limited financial autonomy, relying heavily on male relatives or husbands for economic stability. If her father,

brothers, and husband were gone, Marie Madeline stood to inherit an immense fortune, offering her the independence she longed for. Her ambition grew as she entertained the thought of not only murdering her family, but also of savoring the twisted power it granted her over life and death. She began experimenting with poisons, initially on her servants, baiting the fatal substances into sweets and confections, which she would then instruct her maids to taste. When these maids grew ill and ultimately perished, doctors were quick to attribute their deaths to natural causes, dismissing any notion of foul play. Hashtag hashtag hashtag a plot takes shape.

Having successfully tested her poisons on unsuspecting servants, the Marquis and Jean-Baptiste shifted their focus to Marie Madeline's family. She first targeted her father, who, despite his high social standing, was not immune to the poison laced within her meticulously prepared confections. His death seemed natural, a tragic but seemingly ordinary passing for a man of his age. Next came her brothers, who were poised to inherit the family's wealth and, consequently, obstruct Marie Madeline's claim to the fortune. Each fell prey to the same fate, succumbing to mysterious illnesses after enjoying their

sister's gifts of homemade pastries. As her family members died one by one, Marie Madeline's wealth and social standing continued to rise, drawing little suspicion from those around. her. However, when the time came to target her husband, fate took an unexpected turn. By this time, Jean-Baptiste had distanced himself from Marie Madeline, having found a new lover and grown weary of the Marquis's murderous inclinations. She was left to devise her plan alone, and just as she attempted to poison her husband, he became aware of her intentions and halted the plot. Some sources suggest he learn of her scheme through rumors or by witnessing the suspicious

deaths surrounding her. Fearing for his life, he reportedly fled Paris, abandoning his wife and their toxic marriage altogether. Hashtag hashtag the downfall of the Marquise. With her family gone and her husband estranged, Marie Madeline could have stopped. Yet, intoxicated by the power she wielded over life and death, she continued her killing spree, poisoning those who inconvenienced her,

sometimes for reasons as trivial as amusement. Meanwhile, John Baptiste, aware of her misdeeds, preserved their correspondence, including incriminating letters and vials of poison. These would become crucial evidence in her eventual downfall. When John Baptiste passed away unexpectedly, officials conducted a search of his residence. Among his belongings, they discovered a red leather-bound box filled with damning evidence, vials of poison and letters implicating the Marquise in numerous murders.

The discovery ignited a full investigation, which led to a massive scandal involving some of France's most influential families. Authorities issued an arrest warrant for Marie Madeline, but by then, she had already fled France, evading capture by retreating to England. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the escape, capture, and trial. Marie Madeline's escape marked the beginning of a year's long pursuit. French authorities requested her extradition from England, but she narrowly escaped again, this time finding refuge in a convent in Leash.

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Boots. Selected store is worth price based on standard selling price of individual items while stocks last offer ends 24th December. I've been thinking, we need to talk to him about. He might not listen to me. But yeah, as good a time as any. Okay, I'll give it a go. If he ever takes those earphones out. Vaping is harmful.

to your child's health. Nicotine addiction can affect their concentration, sleep, and moods. They're much more likely to smoke when they're older too. So take a deep breath and talk to them today. Get the facts about vaping and nicotine. Visit hse.a.e. forward slash vaping from the HSE. Law enforcement had no authority to arrest her. Determined not to let her escape justice, one of the investigators disguised himself as a monk, infiltrated the convent, and ultimately dragged her back to France to face trial. Back in Paris, her trial was nothing short of sensational, with tales of her crimes shocking the public. Her former servant testified in detail about her methods,

describing how she would bake poison into pastries and ensure her victims consumed them. Marie Madeline's dark past was laid bare, with details of her scandalous love life, rumored incestuous relationships, and the abuse she endured as a child. The revelations horrified the public, fueling both fascination and outrage. Marie Madeline's attorney attempted to defend her, but his efforts were futile. The evidence against her was overwhelming, and her fate was essentially sealed before the trial began. The court charged her with multiple counts of murder, with accusations of being a serial killer and even an arsonist. Her sentence was one of the most brutal, death by execution.

Hashtag hashtag hashtag the legacy of the Marquis de Brinbilliers. On July 16, 1676, Marie Madeline was executed in Paris, bringing an end to one of the most chilling sagas of murder and betrayal in French history. Her death did little to quell public interest, and for years afterward, her case was referenced as a cautionary tale of corruption, power, and unbridled ambition. The Marquis de Brinvilleers became a symbol of France's dark fascination with poisons and intrigue. Her story not only inspired other infamous poisoners but also heightened public awareness of a widespread issue, the silent, invisible threat of poison as a tool for murder in both aristocratic and common circles.

Her case, known as the affair of the poisons, led to widespread investigations. and convictions across France, even reaching the highest ranks of the court of King Louis the 14th. This marked the beginning of a dark era where poisonings, both real and alleged, became almost commonplace in the court, with nobles living in constant fear of betrayal and death. Marie Madeline's story reminds us of the lengths to which individuals will go to secure their fortunes and the depths of human depravity that can be hidden behind a noble title. Ultimately, Marie Madeline's life and actions became a legend, a tale of ambition gone awry, where wealth, power, and influence were pursued at the cost of human lives.

Hers was a cautionary tale in the annals of history, a grim reminder of what people might do when driven by unchecked greed and desperation. The story of the so-called affair of the poisons is a fascinating chapter in French history, filled with intrigue, betrayal, and the darker side of human ambition. At its heart is the tale of Madame de Montespan, once the beloved mistress of King Louis XIV, who fell from grace amid rumors of sorcery, potions, and even attempts to poison the king himself. Her story, along with that of her supposed accomplices, speaks to a time when superstition and political ambition could blend dangerously, leading to suspicion, torture, and swift punishment.

Madame de Montespan's life began on October 5, 1640, in a prominent French family. Raised among the nobility, she was groomed for a life of service and high status. She eventually entered the court of Louis XIV, serving as a lady-in-waiting to the queen. Known for her striking beauty and sharp wit, Madame de Montespan quickly caught the attention of the king, whose romantic pursuits were famously prolific. Their passionate affairs spanned over a decade, during which time Montespan gave birth to seven of his children and enjoyed a life filled with luxury, influence, and privilege. Yet this relationship, which had granted her so much power, would ultimately be her undoing.

The affair came at a time of immense social and political tension in France. The court at Versailles was a place of constant rivalry and backstabbing, as courtiers vied for the king's favor and sought to advance their positions. Madame de Montespan's rivals whispered accusations of witchcraft and poison. This was not an unusual rumor, as magic, mysticism, and the occult were surprisingly common in the 17th century, even among the nobility. However, Montespan's alleged involvement went deeper than simple whispers and would become one of largest scandals of Louis XIV's reign. At the height of her influence, Madame de Montespan

supposedly sought the services of Catherine Monvoysen, more commonly known as Lavoison. Lovoison was a fortune-teller and self-proclaimed sorceress who worked in Paris, selling charms, potions, and other mystical services to wealthy clients. Her reputation was infamous, she was known to conduct black masses, in which clients supposedly prayed to dark forces for favors. It was rumored that she would go to any lengths, including sacrifice official offerings to fulfill her client's desires. Love Boysen's clientele was not limited to the poor or uneducated, she catered to the elite of society, who sought her help for matters of love, power, and revenge.

Monty Span, perhaps out of desperation to secure the king's affections, is said to have visited Lavoison on several occasions. According to some accounts, she asked for love potions to keep the king loyal to her. But when her... It was Christmas in Dublin, and Puss was in boots where he found better than half-price fragrance star gifts, including Longcom La Viebe A Belle Rose Extraordinaire Odepartfum 50 mil, was 120 euro,

now only 56 euro. Don't miss out. Shop in store or online. Gift happily ever after. Boots. Selected stores while stocks last offer ends 24th of December. And now a look at the forecast. We're seeing lots of wind, plenty of sunshine to come and a long-term outlook that's bright for Ireland. at air grid our forecast is for a sustainable energy future

we're upgrading the electricity grid so every home business and community can benefit we're powering up ireland learn more at airgrid dot i e i've been thinking we need to talk to him about he might not listen to me but yeah as good a time as any okay i'll give it a go if he ever takes those earphones out Vaping is harmful to your child's health. Nicotine addiction can affect their concentration, sleep, and moods. They're much more likely to smoke when they're older too.

So take a deep breath and talk to them today. Get the facts about vaping and nicotine. Visit hse.i.4.vaping from the HSE. Beauty began to fade and younger women caught the king's eye. Monty Span allegedly became more desperate. Witnesses claimed that she sought even darker solutions to secure her position, requesting services that would ensure the king's loyalty or eliminate her rivals. Things took a darker turn when Lavoison was implicated in the broader affair of the poisons,

a series of arrests and trials involving high-ranking individuals accused of using poison, witchcraft, and the occult to achieve their goals. The investigation was ordered by Louis XIV himself after he heard rumors of plots against his life. Hundreds of people were questioned, and dozens were arrested, including fortune-tellers, poisoners, and alchemists who had dealings with the Aristons. Under torture, Lovevoison and her associates provided names and detailed descriptions of their clients, including Madame de Montespan. They described the various potions and rituals conducted at Montespan's request, implicating

her in a conspiracy to use magical means to control the king. The accusations were shocking, some claimed that Montespan had even been the altar, in black masses, a disturbing image that fueled the hysteria surrounding the case. Though Madame de Montespan was never officially charged, the scandal effectively ended her influence at court. She was quietly removed from the king's inner circle, and her reputation was permanently tarnished. While many others involved in the scandal-faced imprisonment, torture, or execution, Montesbans' noble status likely protected her from the same fate. Nevertheless, she was forced to spend her remaining years isolated from society,

retreating to a convent in her later years, where she reportedly sought penance for her supposed sins. The affair of the poisons remains a controversial and highly debated part of French history. Did Madame de Montespan truly engage in dark rituals to maintain her power over the king? Or was she merely a scapegoat, a victim of the intense rivalries and intrigues that characterized the court of Louis XIV. Some historians argue that the accusations against her were exaggerated or even fabricated by her enemies. The court, eager to eliminate rivals and secure their own positions, may have used the case as a convenient excuse to get rid of an unpopular figure. Whatever the truth, the affair of the poisons reflects the volatile nature of the time. It was an era in which superstition and fear of the unknown could lead to extreme actions,

where the boundary between science and magic was often blurred, and where those who dared to defy social norms could easily be branded as witches or sorcerers. Madam de Montespan's story is a reminder of how easily lives could be destroyed by rumors and accusations, and how power, once gained, could slip away just as quickly. Looking back, it is difficult to separate fact from fiction in the affair of the poisons. The records from the trials were destroyed, and much of what we know comes from second-hand accounts and hearsay. What remains is a fascinating tale of ambition, love, betrayal, and superstition, one that continues to capture the imagination centuries later. Manuela Gonzalez Cano was born on October 14, 1960, into a large Spanish family.

She was the fifth child of the Gonzales-Cano couple, and by all accounts, her childhood was a happy one. The family emigrated from Spain to France in search of a better life. Some sources say they settled in Grenoble to work in the local minds. Outwardly, they seemed like a tight-knit and cheerful family. During her teenage years, Manuela struggled with insecurity. She was shy and self-conscious, often feeling unattractive and insignificant. By the time she was 15, most of her friends had boys. friends, but she had no romantic interests. She believed no one noticed her, which only deepened

her feelings of inadequacy. However, things took a dramatic turn when she was 16. At a local fair, she met Gilbert Menya, her first great love. According to her, it was love at first sight. After a beautiful courtship, the two married in 1978. Three years later, they welcomed their only daughter, Virginia Menya. On the surface, they seemed like the perfect family, close, love loving, and happy. But in 1983, tragedy struck. Gilbert was hospitalized due to what was described as poisoning. He underwent tests and surgery on his esophagus and spent three months in a coma.

The cause of his condition remained a mystery. Miraculously, Gilbert recovered, but soon after, he asked Manuela for a divorce. The reasons behind their separation remain unclear. Whether it was a loss of love, infidelity, or something else, the details were never made public. Despite the divorce, they maintained a cordial relationship for the sake of their daughter. They continued to meet as a family and appeared to get along well in public. Following the divorce, Manuela moved on with her life, taking up various jobs, including roles as a cashier, saleswoman, and stock clerk.

However, rumors began to swirl that she had also become a prostitute. These whispers remained unconfirmed until 1984, when a man accused her of theft and attempted murder. This was how her darker side came to light. In 1984, at the age of 25, Manuela met a 55-year-old jeweler named Michelle Garson. Michelle was a well-established professional with wealth and status. The two began a transactional relationship with Michelle allegedly paying Manuel for sexual... It was Christmas in Dublin, and Puss was in boots where he found better than half-price premium beauty star gifts, including Liz Earle Ultimate Skincare Collection, worth a hundred and 19 euro, only 44

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dot slash vaping on HSE On HSC However, on October 11th, 1984, Michel collapsed after drinking tea

during a meeting with Manuela in his store. A customer found him unconscious and called for an ambulance. Michel was rushed to the hospital, where doctors discovered a significant amount of sedatives in his system. He survived, but when he returned to his shop, he found that a check worth 80,000 francs had been cashed by Manuela. It's unclear whether Michel had willingly given her

the check earlier or if she had stolen it. Michel claimed that during their meeting, they had simulated the sale of a gold bar worth 80,000 francs, for which he wrote her a check. Manuela cashed it, but she allegedly wanted more. According to reports, she planned a second meeting, offered him tea-laced with sedatives, and attempted to steal another check. In 1985, Manuel was convicted of theft with violence. However, the specifics of her sentence,

whether she served prison time, received probation, or paid a fine, remain unknown. By the following year, she was free and back to living her life. In 1986, Manuel met Francois Colazo, a family man who worked in a bar. According to his daughter, Maria, Francois was a loving father and a good man. He was deeply in love with Manuel, and their relationship seemed harmonious. A few weeks into dating, they decided to move in together.

But on the night of April 28th to 29, 1989, Francois's life came to a tragic and suspicious end. He was found dead in his garage, having apparently taken a large dose of sedatives and inhaled car exhaust fumes. The circumstances of his death were. bizarre. The autopsy confirmed that the sedatives alone would have been enough to kill him. Adding the car fumes seemed unnecessary. Even stranger, Francois was found in the passenger seat rather than the driver's seat, making it awkward for him to have started the car.

Despite these oddities, Manuel told the police that Francois had been depressed and had taken his own life. Francois's family didn't believe her, but the case was closed without further investigation. Manuela moved on, packing her belongings and relocating to Brignoud, where she became a driving instructor. In Brignaud, she began a brief but intense romance with a man named Bruno Delpec. They met when Bruno enrolled in her driving school to get his motorcycle license. Bruno described Manuel as having two distinct sides. To the world, she was shy, sweet, and pleasant. But in private, she was passionate, dominant, and wild.

Bruno found this duality irresistible. However, their relationship ended abruptly. Soon after, Manuela met Tieri Le Chevalier, a divorced man with children from his previous marriage. Tieri was described as kind, generous, and completely devoted to Manuela. He adored her and did everything to make her happy. Outwardly, their relationship seemed perfect. Between 1990 and 1991, Manuel opened her own driving school. Financially, the couple was thriving.

Manuela's business was successful, with plenty of clients and a solid reputation. But in early 1991, Manuela met another man, Daniel Kano, and Sparks Flew. The two began an affair, unbeknownst to Tieri. Manuela eventually confessed to Tieri, telling him she no longer loved him and wanted to be with Daniel. In April 1991, she asked Tieri to leave their home, telling him she'd call the police if he didn't. That weekend, Manuela went away with Daniel. When she returned, she found Tieri dead. Tieri's body was discovered in a storage room owned by Manuela.

The scene was strange. He had taken sedatives and set a fire, leading to his death. Manuel called the police, claiming Tieri had taken his own life out of heartbreak. However, Tieri's ex-wife, Chantal, told the police that Tieri had expressed fear of Manuela before his death. He had reportedly said that if anything happened to him, it would be her doing. The investigation revealed that Thierry had taken out a 25,000 franc loan to help Manuela set up her driving school.

With his death, the loan didn't need to be repaid. Despite these findings, Manuela was released due to a lack of evidence in Daniel's alibi that they had been together that weekend. Manuela and Daniel married in 1997. Daniel was a kind and loving man who had a son named Nicholas from a previous marriage. He had many interests, including rugby, nature walks, and breeding exotic Australian finches. The couple bought a lovely home in Villard Bonneau and appeared to be happy. Both shared a love for gambling and frequently visited a local casino.

However, gambling took a toll on their finances. By 2005, their debts began to mount. That year, Manuela was arrested for fraud related to her driving school. She had been issuing licenses illegally in exchange for money. She was sentenced to 10 months of probation, fined 50,000 euros, and banned from teaching for five years. They're finery... T'was Christmas in Dublin. And Puss was in Boots

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When he found out, their relationship became strained. In 2007, Manuela collapsed at the bottom of her staircase and was diagnosed with depression. She was prescribed sedatives, but her family noticed she rarely slept and seemed constantly alert. Despite her struggles, she maintained a charming and sweet exterior, hiding her inner turmoil from the world. Things escalated in September 2008, when a fire broke out in their home. Daniel woke up to find their bedroom engulfed in flames. Manuela claimed it was an accident caused by a candle he had lit in memory of his late mother. However, Daniel insisted he had placed the candle outside the bedroom, making the fire's origin suspicious.

The insurance company ruled at an accident, and the case was closed. On October 31, 2008, a neighbor jogging near the train tracks discovered a burned-out car with a body inside. The vehicle was identified as Daniels, and the body was confirmed. to be his. He had been heavily sedated before the fire, and the case was ruled a homicide. Manuela became the prime suspect due to her history and the financial benefits she stood to gain from Daniel's death. She was arrested and eventually sentenced to 30 years in prison in 2012, a conviction upheld in 2016. What do you think? Was justice served, or is there more to this story? Introduction. Technology has played a transformative role in shaping the world as we know

it. From early inventions such as the wheel to the cutting-edge advancements in artificial intelligence, humanity has continuously strived to develop tools that make life easier, more efficient, and more interconnected. The impact of technology extends across multiple dimensions, including communication, healthcare, transportation, education, and entertainment. This paper explores the profound influence of technology on modern society, how it has evolved over the years, and what the future holds for technological innovations. The historical evolution of technology. Technology has been a fundamental part of human civilization. The earliest tools made of stone and metal paved the way for agricultural advancements,

allowing humans to cultivate crops and domesticate animals. The Industrial Revolution marked a significant shift, introducing machinery that revolutionized production processes and enhanced economic growth. The 20th and 21st centuries witnessed rapid technological advancements, from the invention of the telephone and automobiles to the rise of the internet and artificial intelligence. Each technological breakthrough has contributed to societal progress, shaping the way people live, work, and interact. The digital revolution and the Internet age,

the advent of the Internet in the late 20th century brought about a digital revolution that changed the world in unprecedented ways. The Internet has facilitated instant communication through emails, social media platforms, and video conferencing, shrinking the geographical barriers that once limited human interactions. Businesses have leveraged the power of e-commerce, enabling consumers to purchase goods and services with the click of a button.

Moreover, digital banking and online transactions have redefined financial interactions, making transactions more accessible and secure. Artificial intelligence and machine learning. Artificial intelligence, AI, and machine learning, ML, have taken technological advancements to new heights. AI-powered systems are now capable of analyzing vast amounts of data, making predictions, and even performing complex tasks that traditionally required here. human intelligence. From chatbots that assist customers online to self-driving cars that enhance road safety, AI is transforming various industries. The healthcare sector, for instance, has benefited from AI in medical diagnostics, where machine learning algorithms can detect diseases more

accurately than human doctors in some cases. The impact of technology on health care, medical technology has significantly improved the quality of health care services. innovations such as telemedic surgeries and wearable health devices have enhanced patient care and medical research. Telemedicine allows patients to consult doctors remotely, reducing the burden on health care facilities and increasing accessibility, especially in rural areas. Advanced imaging technologies, such as MRI and CT scans, enable early detection of illnesses, leading to better treatment outcomes. The development of vaccines, including the rapid response to the COVID-19 pandemic, highlights how technology plays a crucial role in public health.

The role of technology in education. Education has undergone a digital transformation with the integration of technology into learning systems. Online learning platforms, interactive e-books, and virtual classrooms have made education more accessible and flexible. And now a look at the forecast. We're seeing lots of wind, plenty of sunshine to come, and a long-term outlook that's bright for Ireland. at air grid our forecast is for a sustainable energy future we're upgrading the electricity grid so every home business and community can benefit we're powering up ireland learn more at airgrid dot i e t was christmas in dublin and puss was in boots where he found better than half price on electrical beauty including number seven ultimate cordless mirror was ninety-nine euro ninety-one Now under 39 Euro99

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constraints of traditional classroom settings. Artificial intelligence is also being used in personalized learning, where adaptive algorithms tailor educational content based on a student's learning pace and style. This ensures that students receive individualized support, enhancing their academic performance. Transportation and smart mobility. Transportation technology has evolved significantly,

leading to the development of electric vehicles, high-speed trains, and autonomous cars. Electric vehicles, EVs, are becoming increasingly popular due to their environmental benefits and advancements in battery technology. Companies like Tesla are pushing the boundaries of innovation, making EVs more efficient and affordable. Additionally, self-driving technology is poised to revolutionize the way people travel, reducing traffic congestion and enhancing road safety. Smart cities are also integrating transportation technology, with intelligent traffic management systems improving urban mobility. The entertainment industry and digital media, technology has reshaped the entertainment industry, providing new ways for people to consume and create content. Streaming platforms like Netflix, Spotify, and YouTube have revolutionized how audiences access

music, movies, and television shows. The gaming industry has also seen significant advancements, with virtual reality, VR, and augmented reality, AR, enhancing gaming experiences. Social media platforms have become a major source of entertainment, enabling users to share content, engage with influencers, and participate in digital communities. The future of technology, emerging trends. The future of technology holds exciting possibilities, with innovations such as quantum computing, biotechnology, and space exploration gaining momentum.

Quantum computing has the potential to solve complex problems at an unprecedented speed, revolutionizing fields such as cryptography and data analysis. Biotechnology advancements, including gene editing and personalized medicine, could lead to breakthroughs in treating genetic disorders. Meanwhile, space exploration is expanding with private companies like SpaceX working toward human colonization of Mars and advancements in satellite technology enhancing global connectivity. The ethical and societal challenges of technological advancements, while technology offers numerous benefits, it also presents ethical and societal challenges that must be addressed.

Concerns about data privacy, cybersecurity threats, and job displacement due to automation are some of the pressing issues. The rise of AI raises questions about ethical decision-making, as algorithms may reflect biases present in training data. Additionally, the digital divide remains a challenge, with some regions having limited access to technology, exacerbating social and economic inequalities. Governments, businesses, and policymakers must work together to create regulations that ensure ethical technology use and inclusivity. Conclusion, technology continues to shape the modern world, driving progress across

various sectors and improving the quality of life. From the Internet and AI to advancements in healthcare and education, technology has revolutionized how people interact, learn, and work. However, with these advancements come challenges that require careful consideration to ensure responsible and ethical use of technology. As humanity moves forward, embracing innovation while addressing ethical concerns will be crucial in creating a future where technology benefits all of society. The evolution of technology is an ongoing journey, and its impact will continue to define the world for generations to come. I like to think that I take my personal safety very seriously.

I don't stand too close to the road while waiting for the walk signal. I have my location shared with my sister and mom. I keep my wits about me when I'm out in public, and I try not to dawdle after getting into my car. If I had only been more diligent about that last rule, I might not be in the situation I'm in now. Early this morning, just after midnight, I was sitting in my parked car outside of my favorite grocery store. I was exhausted from picking up a friend's evening shift, and so I stopped to grab dinner on my way home from work. The store is in an isolated part of town, but I had never felt unsafe in the area. Then again, I'd never been so late at night.

The second I exited the store with my purchase, the old cashier closed up shop for the night and turned off all the lights in the building. For some reason, I did something I never do, I started eating in my car. as a precaution i try not to linger in isolated parking lots especially as a young woman who often has to run and now a look at the forecast we're seeing lots of wind plenty of sunshine to come and a long-term outlook that's bright for ireland at air grid our forecast is for a sustainable energy future we're upgrading the electricity grid so every home business and community can benefit We're powering up Ireland. Learn more at airgrid.e.

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for you and can't learn with you. That's not not next do you know, but there's a few earach to do you know.

Okay, I'm three last. Do you know Paul to the foresight to the forese did I'm at Tunchin

on the Nourd, a gulah, and on the number to call. I'm a chance at the back and he had a-of-the-of-

that's taring in all of Rine and Lauerlo-in-O-in-Ow inove. Find the furiky-fav-a-pollag's nicotine, thurkir-h-safeaping, on H-S.E. Parents after dark. Maybe it was the hunger, or maybe the fact that,

due to a recent breakup, my house hasn't felt all that welcoming in the past few weeks. In any case, I was in no rush to return home. I pulled up an episode of the terror on my phone and settled in to eat. I enjoyed a few minutes of blissful peace and quiet before a shout pierced through the night. I looked up from my phone and was surprised to find a woman standing in front of my car, waving her arms at me.

My car was parked right in front of the store, facing towards the building, and there was only a thin sidewalk separating my vehicle from the store's exterior. I hadn't seen her coming at all, it was like she had emerged from the brick wall before me. She rounded my car, coming to a stop beside the driver's side window. She then started pointing at the ground, the universal signal four, roll your window down. Fat chance, I thought. Though she looked sane and kemped, I had no clue what her intentions were. In fact, I felt pretty vindicated in always locking my car doors immediately after entering.

The woman, perhaps seeing I was making no move to exit my vehicle, then told me something no one wants to hear, hey. She shouted. there's someone in your back seat. My mouth went dry. Time seemed to slow as a thousand horror movie scenes raced through my head. I could almost feel the piano wire digging into my neck, the barrel pressing into my temple. I undid my seatbelt and prepared to launch myself out of the car. Now that the intruder knew I was aware of their presence, would I even have enough time to run? With one hand on the door handle, I stole a glance into the rear-view mirror and saw, no one.

My car is a compact hatchback, meaning there is very little room for a person to hide in my cabin. Even in my exhausted state, I would have noticed someone upon looking into the mirror. My terror fading to confusion, I turned around in my seat, surveying the cabin with my own eyes, and confirmed that there was no one in my backseat. Click. When I turned back around, the woman had taken another step closer to my car. Her body was barely a foot from my door and her fingers were wrapped around the handle. There were a few more deep clicks as she tried, unsuccessfully, to open the locked door.

I raised my gaze, and she gave me an odd smile, as though she and I were sharing a private joke. For the first time, using the faint glow of the street lamp, I took a closer look at the woman's face. Her skin was stretched tightly across her skull, making her thin mouth and nostrils appear as though they've been cut onto her. Her eyes were deep-set and ovate, and her teeth seemed both too small and too numerous. I allowed myself a brief moment to gawk at the face before me and then I threw my car into reverse and high-tailed it out of the lot. For a few, disheartening seconds, the woman held on to the door, keeping in step with my vehicle as I backed up. Luckily, she soon let go, and I drove away, my mind racing with the realization that the woman was trying to bait me out of my car.

Even more disturbing was the fact that it had almost worked. I wondered if she had others with her that I simply hadn't seen, and what she had wanted from me. I hoped I had narrowly escaped a robbery as opposed to something much more sinister. I got back to my house twenty minutes later. Still shaken from my encounter, I rushed inside the house. house and made sure that all of my doors and windows were locked. My exhaustion did little to soothe my nerves. My mind played tricks on me as I got ready for bed, conjuring up flashes of the woman's

face in the dark corners of my house. Once I finally fell asleep, my fears followed me from the waking world. I had a long, vivid nightmare, most of which I've either forgotten or is irrelevant to this account. All I know is that when I jolted awake some hours later, it was a long, it was a long, you to the sound of a frantic banging on my front door. I sat up in bed, unsure if I was still dreaming or not. My alarm clock read 417. It was far too early for someone to be knocking on my door unless there was some kind of emergency, which, given the forcefulness of the knocks,

there may have been. Slowly, I rose from my bed and inched towards the entryway. I had never before been in such a situation, and was at somewhat of a loss as to how to react. I didn't smell a fire, thankfully, but that didn't mean all was well. Suddenly, I heard a man's voice calling out my name in a questioning tone. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't immediately place it. Who is it? I called back. This Christmas on Sky, you can turn a silent night into stoppage time delights. An old mince pie into a stunning try. And a winter chill Into an alley-pally thrill

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Boots. Subject to availability selected stores offer in 6th of January 2026. I've been thinking we need to talk to him about. He might not listen to me. But yeah, as good a time as any. Okay, I'll give it a go. If he ever takes those earphones out. Vaping is harmful to your child's health.

Nicotine addiction can affect their constant. concentration, sleep, and moods. They're much more likely to smoke when they're older too. So take a deep breath and talk to them today. Get the facts about vaping and nicotine. Visit hse.i.4.vaping from the HSE. Brian answered the disembodied voice and relief washed over me. My neighbor, Brian, lived in a house across the street. We weren't close exactly, but I often saw him walking down the block with his dog, Bailey. I turned on the entryway light, but as I was still in my sleepwear, I didn't want to open

the door unless I had to. Instead, I called back to him. What's the matter? Well, he began. I heard his voice crack, and he cleared his throat. Do you have someone over right now? What? I asked, my heart skipping a beat. No, I don't. Why do you ask? Well, the The dog had to go out, and while I was in the yard with him, I thought I saw someone in your front window. Someone who didn't look, quite right. I stilled, feeling as though I were in some terrible dream. Turning around and glancing down the dark hallway, I wished I had turned on more lights

on my way to answer the door. She followed you home, I thought. She's in your house with you right now. I was ready to bolt out the door into the cold, but by some miracle, I had just enough press presence of mind left to consider my neighbor's words more carefully. Something was wrong. I stepped away from the door. Are you all right, Brian?

He cleared his throat again, and when he next spoke, his voice sounded slightly different from before, as though he were testing out a new timbre. Of course, I just got a bit of a cold here, but I still wanted to check in on you. My voice wavered as I voiced a question to my neighbor, but, your dog, isn't it a girl? Brian didn't respond. My mind reeled in the torturous silence, trying to discern whether the threat was outside the door or inside the house with me. After a full minute of complete stillness, the handle to my front door began to move. It rotated downwards as far as it could before the lock stopped it, then shook as the person on the other side of my door pulled on the handle.

This happened several more times as the person tested my lock, and then there was a powerful bang. as though someone had rammed into my door with all their might. After that, there was silence again. I stood frozen in place for another minute. I had no people, but I worked up the nerve to walk into the living room and peer through the blinds into my front yard. In the distance, walking down the street away from my house was a figure. Although I couldn't see the face, something deep within me knew it was the same person who

had tried to open my car door. I watched her walk away into the quiet night until she disappeared from my view. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep for the rest of the night. I split my time between roaming the perimeter of my house, looking for anything suspicious, and sitting in my kitchen running the events of the night over in my mind. The most likely explanation was that I'd been dreaming. After all, I'd nearly been baited into opening my door to a potential criminal just hours before, so it made sense that I'd have a nightmare about a similar situation.

Then again, I had never, in my entire life, had a dream so vivid. Maybe, somehow the woman really did follow me home. She easily could have stuck a tracker on my car, but how in the world did she know Brian's name, and how had she impersonated him so well? The sun is setting now. I haven't left the house all day, I've been too haunted by the idea of someone, or multiple someone's, trying to draw me out into the open. No matter how many times I check the house, I still feel as though I catch glimpses of the woman in my periphery, of her beady eyes

and uncanny smile. I suppose I should try to get some sleep now, impossible as that seems at this point. I just needed to jot this down before I went to bed, in case A, anything happens to me, and B, do you ever think about blindly trusting the warnings of a stranger? It all started in the summer of 1982, with a 19-year-old girl named Carol Compton. She was sweet, charming, and had a childlike innocence that made her instantly likable. Her smile could light up a room, and she was the kind of person everyone enjoyed being around. Carol worked as a waitress at the Trump Thumb Hotel in Ayrshire, Scotland, where she met an Italian man named Marco Vichelano. Marco was the complete opposite of Carol, mature, outgoing, and determined. He was a man of the world, someone

who knew exactly what he wanted. The two hit it off quickly, and soon enough, they were in a whirlwind romance. The love between Carol and Marco was brief but intense, lasting only a summer. Marko had to return to Rome to fulfill his mandatory military service, which was required by law back then. Some people said that Mark... This Christmas on Sky, you can turn a silent night into stoppage time to lights. An old mince pie into a stunning try and a winter chill into an alley-pally thrill with over 50 Premier League games

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while stocks last offer ends 24th of December. I've been thinking, we need to talk to him about it. He might not listen to me, but yeah, as good a time as any. Okay, I'll give it a go. If he ever takes those earphones out. Vaping is harmful

to your child's health. Nicotine addiction can affect their concentration, sleep, and moods, they're much more likely to smoke when they're older too. So take a deep breath and talk to them today. Get the facts about vaping and nicotine. Visit hse.i.4-slaping from the HSE. Poe viewed Carol as a summer fling, a short-lived romance that would eventually fade away. But there were others who believed that Marco was genuinely in love with Carol. Whatever the case, Carol was heartbroken when Marco left, but she was determined to follow him.

Carol packed her bags, left everything behind, and moved to Rome to be with Marco. However, life in Italy wasn't as glamorous as she had imagined. Marco already had his life in Rome, his family, his friends, and a routine that was hard to disrupt. Carol, on the other hand, had nothing. With no family to rely on and not much experience, she had to find a way to support herself. It was then that she decided to work as a nanny. Carol, with her sweet demeanor and childlike qualities, was perfect for the job. She quickly found work with one of Italy's wealthiest families, the Ritchie family.

The Rikas were a deeply religious Catholic family, and their home was filled with religious symbols, crucifixes, paintings, and statues of the Virgin Mary. They had very specific requirements for their new nanny. Firstly, they wanted someone who was either Catholic or at least respectful of their faith. Secondly, they needed someone who was polite, well-mannered, and available 24-7, including holidays. Lastly, because Carol was Scottish, they wanted her to teach their children English. At first, everything seemed fine. Carol was doing her job as expected, but strange things began to happen in the Ritchie household.

One morning, while Carol was playing with the children, something unsettling occurred. As she passed by a painting of the Virgin Mary, the painting suddenly fell off the wall. Rosa, the maid, saw this and immediately became alarmed. She believed that the painting had fallen because something dark was inside Carol. Instead of thinking that it was simply a mistake, like a poorly hung picture or an accidental bump, Rosa insisted that a demon must be inside Carol. Carol, of course, laughed it off. She didn't believe in anything supernatural and thought Rosa was overreacting.

But things only got worse. Rosa was convinced that Carol was possessed and forced her to pray to a atone for her sins. Carol complied out of politeness, but Rosa wasn't satisfied. When the Ritchie family returned, Rosa told them what had happened and accused Carol of harboring evil spirits. She claimed that if Carol stayed in the house, something terrible would happen. But the Rick is, skeptical as ever, dismissed Rosa's claims. They reasoned that the picture falling could simply be due to the hook being loose or the vibrations from the house. They even praised Carol for doing a great job with their children and assured her that there was no

reason to worry. But the Rikis had an upcoming trip to the Italian Alps, and they decided to take Carol along. They owned a two-story house in the Alps, which offered breathtaking views of the mountains. But what was supposed to be a relaxing getaway soon turned into a nightmare? Multiple small fires broke out, and the situation became increasingly strange. Some sources claimed that small fires were happening randomly, burning things that didn't seem to matter much, like branches or papers. But the last fire was far more serious. The second floor of the house was completely destroyed by fire. The firefighters who responded to the scene said the fire originated in the room of the two-year-old child, Scott Ritchie.

They also mentioned that the fire might have been caused by an electrical fault. But the Ritchie family had enough of the strange occurrences and decided to fire Carol. Carol was devastated. She couldn't believe she was being blamed for something she didn't cause. However, she didn't let it bring her down and quickly found another job as a nanny. The new family she worked for was the Chichini family, but here things would take a much darker turn. The Chichinis were a powerful family who lived on the island of Elba. Carol's new role was much more demanding.

Not only did she have to look after the children, but she also had to care for the grandmother, a deeply religious woman who had strict views about the younger generation not respecting tradition. It didn't take long for strange things to start happening in the Chichini home. Carol began hearing odd noises coming from the walls, thuds, scratching, and whispers. She thought it was just rats, but the grandmother insisted that couldn't be the case. She had lived in the house her entire life and had never had a rat problem. The noises continued, and things began to escalate. Religious objects, crucifixes, statues of saints, paintings, would fall when Carol walked past them. Objects would appear

and disappear mysteriously, and sometimes things would even fall from the ceiling. Books, silverware, and other items would seemingly levitate before crashing to the ground. The grandmother grew increasingly suspicious of Carol. She started calling her Striga, which is the attack... This Christmas on Sky, you can turn a silent knife into stoppage time delights. An old mince pie into a stunning try. And a winter chill into an alley-pally thrill. Luke the new Glitla.

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alien word for which. The grandmother believed that something evil had taken hold of Carol's heart, and that was the cause of all the strange occurrences. Carol, of course, found all of this ridiculous and laughed it off. But then something terrifying happened. One afternoon, after putting the children to bed, a fire broke out in the room of little Agnes Chechnie, just three years old. The family rushed to rescue her, and fortunately, she and her brother were unharmed. But the damage was done. The Chichini family was convinced that Carol was to blame. The family called the police, accusing Carol of starting the fire and attempting to kill their children. Carol was arrested and taken to the prison in Livorno.

While in prison, she lost everything. She learned that her once great love, Marco Vichelano, had turned his back on her. When she asked the authorities about him, they informed her that Marco no longer wanted anything to do with her and that he believed she was a witch. Carol's world came crashing down. She was also bombarded with media attention. Newspapers all over the world ran stories about her, with headlines like, The Nanny who was called a witch. The scandal became so large that it felt like her life was being turned into a circus. The case quickly turned into a media frenzy. While the Scottish press mocked the entire situation, the Italians were convinced that Carol was indeed a witch. Many people

demanded that she be sentenced to life in prison. Rumors began to spread, with some claiming that Carol could start fires with her mind or that she was invoking the devil. The case became so sensational that it started resembling the witch trials of Salem, but in modern-day Italy. While Carol languished in prison for 16 months, the public seemed more interested in the spectacle than in the truth. Throughout her imprisonment, Carol was subjected to numerous interrogations, most of them focused on her supposed involvement in black magic. The guards and her fellow inmates were so terrified of her that they moved her into solitary confinement. They believed that if she stayed with the other prisoners, she could burn them all with just a glance.

Meanwhile, outside the prison, the investigations continued. The police went through Carol's history and found that before working for the Chechnie family, she had worked for the Rick is, and that's when the strange incidents had started. But the most puzzling case was the fire that broke out in the Chechnie home. While the fire in the Alps had an explanation, faulty wiring, the fire in Agnes' room had no clear cause. It started in the middle of a mattress, and despite extensive investigations, no one could explain it. Despite the lack of concrete evidence, the rumors about Carol's supposed witchcraft only grew stronger. During her trial, various paranormal experts, including well-known

demonologists and exorcists, offered their assistance. One of them, a healer named Carol Levina, declared that Carol was possessed by the spirit of a 17th century which who was forcing her to kill people. She even tried to exorcise the spirit from Carol during the trial. Another paranormal expert, Diane Plier, who had been involved in the infamous Enfield Poltergeist case, also offered his help. However, Carol rejected all offers of help. She insisted that she wasn't possessed and that she had been falsely accused. As the trial went on, more people came forward to defend Carol. The most important testimony came from Mrs. Saney, the grandmother of the Chichini children. She admitted that her own mother was a smoker and often left burning cigarette

buts near wooden furniture, which could have caused the last fire. Another crucial witness was Teresa Hunter, a former nanny for the Chichini family. She had worked for them before Carol and claimed that the family treated her terribly, especially the grandmother. She also said that the electrical wiring in the house was often overloaded, causing small fires. In the end, Carol was acquitted of all charges, and the case was dismissed. The judge, acknowledged the lack of evidence and called the accusations of witchcraft absurd. After 16 months of imprisonment, Carol was finally freed. However, she left Italy behind and returned to Scotland.

She never went back to Rome or the Chechnie family, and the memories of her time there haunted her for the rest of her life. She never spoke about her experiences again, and the public eventually forgot about her. Carol Compton disappeared from the spotlight, and her story faded into obscurity. Some say she moved to a quiet village in the Scottish Highlands, while others believe she simply disappeared off the grid. Whatever happened to Carol, the story of her trial became a cautionary tale of superstition, media hysteria, and the dark side of public perception.

The bizarre events of that summer in Italy would always be a mystery, and many wondered if Carol had been an innocent victim of a world that had become obsessed with witchcraft and the paranormal. When it comes to tales of witchcraft and the dark times associated with it, one particular incident stands out, a moment that should make anyone shudder. Picture this, a religious figure boldly claims that a local woman is a witch, asserting that he can see it in her eyes. Despite her husband's fervent protests, declaring that his wife is honorable and would

never engage in a pact with the devil, the accusations persist. This wasn't just some isolated incident, it was part of one of the most notorious which hunts in Spain's history, the witch trials of Zagramerti. In the early 17th century, more than 300 residents of this small village We're accused of heinous acts, sacrificing baby. On the many nights of Christmas, the Guinness Storehouse brings to the Christmas nights at gravity. This Christmas, enjoy a truly unique night out at the Gravity Bar. Savour festive bites from Big Fan Bell, expertly crafted seasonal cocktails,

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because this is the beginning of some truly chilling tales. The belief in witchcraft has been around for centuries, documented as far back as the code of Hamarabi, where laws against witchcraft existed. One particular law stated that if a noble accuses another of witchcraft without proof, the accused must throw themselves into the river. If the river claims them, their accuser seizes their property. However, if they survive, the accuser faces execution, and the survivor inherits the accuser's wealth. Similar laws were also found in ancient Egypt, but real

witch hunts only began with the rise of Christianity. The Bible, particularly the Old Testament, firmly condemns magic and calls for the persecution of witches. For example, Leviticus 19 verse 26 warns, you shall not practice divination or soothsaying, while Exodus 22 verse 17 states bluntly, you shall not allow a sorceress to live. The first witch hunts emerged in the 11th century with the inception of the Inquisition, but their method of hunting was rather peculiar. The Inquisitors weren't solely focused on witchcraft, they were primarily targeting heresy, anyone who held beliefs outside the Catholic faith was committing a grave sin and could face execution. The Inquisition sought out individuals who strayed from the faith, widows living

alone, mentally ill persons, and particularly women knowledgeable about medicinal plants. The overwhelming targeting of women can be traced back to biblical narratives, where Eve, the first woman, is often blamed for bringing sin into the world. Thus, the church viewed all women as potential sinners. In a time when freedom of thought and knowledge were seen as threats, the church aimed to eliminate those who deviated from its doctrines, extinguishing ancient pagan traditions and imposing Catholicism through fear. To fully grasp this dark period, one must mention that the Malius Malthacarum, or the hammer of witches. This influential treatise outlined the foundations of witch hunting and claimed that disbelief in witchcraft

was a crime on par with heresy, often punishable by death. The result? A widespread panic took hold of society, with citizens accusing one another of witchcraft, leading to brutal witch hunts that decimated populations in some towns by as much as 40%. Now let's take a journey to France in 1609, under the reign of Henry IV, a time marked by social upheaval due to the war between Catholics and Huguenots. In this volatile environment, various Christian cults thrived and religious morals had gained substantial power. However, in the rural regions, particularly the Lower Pyrenees and the French Basque country, traditional pre-Christian practices were still very much alive, an obvious affront to the Catholic Church.

To address this, Henry IV tasked a high-ranking state official, a jurist named Pierre De Lanker, with organizing and overseeing trials against those who were not Catholic. The location chosen for this witch hunt was nothing less than the village of St. Gendaluz in the Viscountcy of Labourd. Once there, De Lanker initiated one of the most brutal witch-hunts in history, purging the country of alleged witches and wizards. Approximately 200 men, women, and children were judged, tortured, and 80 of them were burned alive in public squares. The king aimed to instill terror in the populace, if you bore a strange

mark or gestured inappropriately, you risked being accused of witchcraft. The atmosphere became so oppressive that many fled, seeking refuge across the border, hiding in small mountain villages, hoping to start anew. One of those towns that became a haven was Zugramerti, a peaceful village of around 200 residents nestled in the floral community of Navarre. The locals primarily engaged in farming and livestock. In late 1608, a 20-year-old named Maria de Chimine decided to take refuge in Zugramurdi. She had spent part of her childhood there before returning to France with her parents. Now, witnessing the growing hysteria in Labourd, she packed her bags and returned to the village where she hoped to work as a servant and rebuild her life. However, what historians

find most disturbing is what happened next. Upon arriving in Zugramerdi, Maria told everyone she encountered shocking stories. She claimed that for a year and a half, she had been a witch, part of a French coven, performing dark rituals, invoking demons, and flying on a broomstick. Maria recounted her experiences with vivid detail, and when pressed for the names of other witches, she didn't hesitate to name them, including Maria de Jurenia, another respected local woman. Once the news reached the accused, Maria de Jorenia vehemently denied the allegations, asserting that she had never met Maria de Chimine.

Unfortunately, Maria's elaborate tales and numerous details led to her. the entire village to believe her. Soon, panic ensued as accusations flew from neighbor to neighbor, targeting many individuals, including Miguel de Guaburu, Estefania de Iriarte, and Graciana de Baroneckia. This last accusation complicated matters because Graciana's husband, Jonas de Guaburu, wasn't about to stand idly by while his wife faced execution. He traveled to the Erdach's monastery and detailed the terrifying which hunt plaguing Zugurimerdi, demanding that the Catholic Church intervene. However, Frey Felipe de Zabolita, the parish priest of Zugramurdi, was not pleased with Jonas complained to Erdachs. Upon his return, he summoned Jonas and Graciana

to his presence, and with shocking audacity, he declared that Graciana was a witch, claiming he could see it in her eyes. Jonas was indignant, insisting that his wife was honorable and would never make a pact with the devil. Nevertheless, Frey Felipe was convinced of her guilt. He forced her to wear religious relics, imposed a story. Sola upon her, and pressured her into a confession. Terrified and cornered, Graciana confessed to everything, fearing the fate that awaited her in the flames. According to Church doctrine, witchcraft wasn't hereditary, it was a collection of beliefs

and knowledge passed among witches during their gatherings. However, among the first ten accused, seven belonged to the same family, leading Frey Felipe to report to the Holy Office in Lagrano. By then, a wave of panic had swept across the Basque region, especially in the northwestern part of Navarre. The Holy Office dispatched Inquisitor Juan Vallé Alvarado to investigate the matter. But this inquisitor was not one to accept mere apologies. He gathered all sorts of bizarre accusations, leading to the incrimination of around 300 individuals.

Out of these, 40 were deemed especially dangerous and transported to the Lagrano prison, where they faced brutal interrogations. On February 9, 1609, several Zugaramurdi villagers appeared before the Lagrano Tribunal, desperate to present their cases and plead for mercy. They arrived in tattered clothing, speaking a language that many could not understand, tired and worn down. Among these prisoners were Graciana and her two daughters. They sought justice, claiming they were not witches and had confessed only due to social pressure. Sadly, honesty was of no use in such dire circumstances.

Once in the hands of the Inquisition, the best tactic was to confess quickly to whatever they demanded. Yet, the guide who had brought them from Zugaramerti had the audacity to insist that he believed they were indeed witches, that they had proven their guilt during the journey. The chaos intensified as the Inquisitors commenced their ruthless interrogations. Unlike the earlier proceedings in Zugramurdi, there would be no mercy in Legrano. Every single prisoner faced torture for five long months until they confessed to a plethora of horrendous crimes, renouncing God, blaspheming, worshipping the devil, sacrificing their children before baptism, and even feasting on human flesh.

If this seems terrifying, wait until you hear what happened next. They were not only coerced into confessing these atrocities, but they were also forced to name other supposed witches still in Zugramurdi. Many of these alleged witches were under 14 years old, making them easy, targets for this sadistic game of accusations. With enough confessions to fuel a bonfire, the Inquisition returned to Zugramurdy to execute the accused. On the day of their arrival, the village was eerily quiet.

They called out the names of those deemed witches, and each individual appeared before the tribunal. The terrified villagers were brought to a large tree where the Inquisitors hung them, all while proclaiming that the victims deserved their fates. When the dust settled, an unfathomable eighty innocent people have been executed in public burnings, while many others had fled, forever changed by the fear and dread of those days. The world may have moved on, but the horrors of Zugurimerdie remain etched in history, a chilling reminder of what happens when fear reigns and reason is cast aside. My boots crunched over damp leaves as I followed the winding trail deeper into the woods.

The air smelled of moss and earth, thick with the scent of rain that had passed through earlier in the day. I was supposed to stick to the main path, but curiosity had gotten the better of me. The forest was quiet. Too quiet. I had hiked these woods before, but I had never seen this clearing. The trees parted around it, their skeletal branches curling inward like fingers. The grass was overgrown, patches of wildflowers dotting the landscape.

But none of that mattered, because in the very center of the clearing stood a window. Just a frame. No glass. It was tall and weathered, the paint long stripped away by time. It looked like it had been ripped from an old house and placed here, upright, with no walls to support it. My stomach twisted. Something about it felt, wrong. I stepped closer.

From this side, I saw only the forest beyond. Trees stretched toward the sky, the same as before. But when I moved, just slightly, so that I was directly in front of it. I stopped breathing. Through the empty frame, I saw my bedroom. Not just a bedroom that looked like mine. My bedroom. The familiar bookshelf stood against the far wall, overflowing with half-read novels and trinkets.

My desk, cluttered with notes and empty coffee cups, sat beside it. The curtains were drawn, the dim glow of my bedside lamp casting long shadows over the walls. And there, lying in bed, was me. I stumbled back, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs. My mind scrambled for a rational explanation, but nothing made sense. I wasn't dreaming, I could feel the cool air on my skin, the dampness from the earlier rain still clinging to my jacket. I took another step forward, peering through the frame again.

The scene hadn't changed. The figure, I, was still there, curled under the covers. My chest rose and fell with steady breaths, my head turned slightly toward the window. But then, as I watched, I opened my eyes. Not the me standing here. The me in the bed. I stared at myself, and myself stared back. The figure in the bed didn't move.

Just lay there, eyes wide, locked onto mine through the window in the forest. A chill ran down my spine. I raised a shaking hand. The me in the window raised one, two. I turned my head slightly. So did they. I was about to step back, to run, when something changed. The figure's lips parted. A slow, stretching smile spread across its face.

Too wide. Then, ever so slightly, it shook its head. I gasped and stumbled backward. My foot caught on a root, and I hit the ground hard, my hands scraping against damp earth. The moment I was out of view, the connection broke. I couldn't see the bedroom anymore, just trees, rustling slightly in the wind. My breath came in ragged bursts. I pushed myself. up and bolted, not stopping to look back. But as I ran, new, horrifying thought crept in, what if, when I got home, I wasn't the one waiting there? I ran. Branches whipped at my arms as I pushed through the undergrowth, feet slipping on the damp earth. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my breath ragged. The forest felt darker now, the trees

pressing in, shadows stretching longer than they should. I kept expecting to hear footsteps behind me, but the woods were silent. Too silent. No wind. No birds. Just my own panicked breathing. I didn't stop until I reached my car. It sat where I had left it, parked at the end of the trail, half hidden by the overgrown brush. My hands shook as I yanked open the door and threw myself inside, slamming it shut behind me. For a moment, I just sat there, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

My mind raced, trying to make sense of what I had seen. It wasn't possible. It had to be some kind of trick. Maybe I had inhaled something weird in the woods. Maybe there was some logical explanation, an optical illusion, a hallucination, anything other than what my gut was telling me. That I had just seen myself. And that it, whatever it was, had seen me too.

I forced a deep breath and turned the key. The engine rumbled to life, breaking the awful silence. My headlights flicked on, illuminating the trees ahead, casting long, skeletal shadows across the dirt path. I didn't look back. The drive home was a blur. I kept checking my rearview mirror, expecting to see something on the road behind me. A shape in the distance.

A figure standing in the middle of the street. But there was nothing. Just the empty highway stretching out behind me, the headlights cutting through the darkness. By the time I pulled into my driveway, my nerves were raw. My house looked the same as always, porch light glowing softly, curtains drawn over the windows. Familiar. safe. But the moment I stepped out of the car, I hesitated.

What if I was already inside? The thought sent a shutter through me. It was irrational. Impossible. I had just imagined it. Right? I swallowed hard and walked up to the front door. My hands were clammy as I unlocked it and pushed it open.

The house was quiet. I stepped inside, locking the door behind me. My ears strained for any sound, any sign that someone. or something, was here. But all I could hear was the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the distant ticking of the clock in the hallway. I let out a slow breath. Everything was fine.

Still, my skin prickled as I made my way down the hall. My bedroom door was closed. It hadn't been when I left. I stood there, staring at it. My pulse pounded in my throat. What if I opened that door and saw myself lying in bed? I reached for the handle. turned it. Pushed the door open. The room was empty. The bed was neatly made, the curtains

drawn, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows over the walls. Exactly how I had left it. My breath shuddered out of me. I felt stupid now, standing there in my own bedroom, shaken over nothing. I was exhausted. My mind was playing tricks on me. I closed the door behind me and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my face with my hands. The image of that thing in the window was burned into my brain. That smile. The way it had shaken its head, like it knew something I didn't. I needed to sleep.

I crawled under the covers and reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up. And then, every nerve in my body went cold. Because there was a notification. A photo. A new air-drop request from an unknown sender. My breath hitched. My thumb trembled as I opened it.

there, staring back at me, was a photo of my bedroom. Taken from the doorway. I whipped my head toward the door. It was still closed. But I wasn't alone. I couldn't move. My fingers clenched around my phone, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts. The photo on the screen, it wasn't possible.

I had just walked into my room. The door had been closed, locked. But someone, or something, had been standing right there, taking a picture. I forced myself to look up, my eyes locked on the bedroom door. It was still closed. The brass handle gleamed in the dim light, perfectly still. No one was there. At least, no one I could see.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. My mind raced through explanations. A prank? But who? The woods were miles away from anything, and I had been alone all day. A hacker. But how would they have taken that picture? My hands shook as I tapped the screen, heart-hammering as I checked the airdrop sender.

Unknown. Of course. I tapped the photo, zooming in, searching for anything, a shadow, a reflection, something that would give me a clue. But it was just my room. Empty. Like the photo had been taken a second before I entered. A cold sweat prickled down my spine. I needed to check the house.

I slid out of bed slowly, my bare feet touching the floor without a sound. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to stay put, to pretend I never saw the photo. But I couldn't ignore it. I crept to the door and pressed my ear against it. Silence. Not even the hum of the refrigerator now. Just a thick, unnatural stillness. I turned the knob.

The door creaked open. The hallway was empty, bathed in soft shadows from the nightlight in the wall. My living room was just beyond, the kitchen tucked to the right. The air felt wrong, like the house was holding its breath. I stepped out. Every instinct told me something was here, something unseen, watching. The floor was cool under my feet as I patted down the hall, scanning every dark corner, every doorway.

The front door was locked. The windows were shut. Nothing seemed out of place. But then I noticed something. The curtain in the living room. When I had left earlier that day, it had been open, letting in the soft afternoon light. Now it was drawn. I stared at it, dread pooling in my stomach.

I took a step forward. Another. I reached out, hesitating just before touching the fabric. A single breath of cold air brushed against my hand. Then, the curtain twitched. I stumbled back, heart slamming against my ribs. For a moment, nothing happened. The curtain hung still.

Just fabric. Just my imagination. Then, slowly, the fabric parted. And behind it, there was nothing. Not a wall. Not a window. Just a pitch black void. I choked on a breath, my legs locked in place.

That wasn't my window. It wasn't anything. Just an endless, empty dark. Then, from that darkness, something moved. I didn't wait to see what it was. I ran. I tore down the hall, feet barely touching the floor, throwing myself into my bedroom and slamming the door behind me. My hands fumbled for the lock. Click. I backed away, panting. My phone was still

clutched in my hand, the screen glowing in the dim light. The photo was still open. But now, there was a second picture. My stomach turned to ice. I didn't there drop this. I didn't take this. But there it was. A new photo, taken from the same doorway. Except now, I was in the bed. And standing over me, was a shadow. Not a person. Not a shape I could define. Just wrongness. A smudge of black, featureless, leaning over my sleeping body. The air in my lungs turned to stone. My gaze darted to the bed. It was empty. Untouched. I looked back at the photo. And this time, the shadow's head had turned. It was looking at me. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to scream, to move, to do something, but all I could do was stare at the photo.

At it. That shadowy figure, that formless, wrong thing was no longer just standing over my sleeping body. It was facing me. My fingers felt numb as I lowered the phone, forcing myself to look at my room. The bed was still empty. The doorway was clear. There was nothing there. But that didn't mean I was alone.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my ears straining for any sound. The house was silent. Not the normal, peaceful quiet of the night. This silence felt heavy, suffocating. Like something was waiting. I needed to get out. I turned, grabbing my bag from the chair. My car keys were inside.

I just needed to make it to the front door, get in the car, and drive. Anywhere. I reached for the doorknob. The second my fingers touched it, a sound, soft, a creak. Like weight shifting on the floor behind me. I froze. The bed was empty. I had checked.

I knew it was empty. But something was there now. I turned my head just enough to glance at my phone screen. The photo had changed again. The shadow wasn't over my bed anymore. It was standing right behind me. I spun around, nothing. But my mirror, the mirror on the far wall, the one across from my bed, it wasn't empty.

I was there standing, staring, but I wasn't alone, a shape loomed behind me, not quite touching, not quite human, just a mass of blackness, shifting, twisting, watching. I barely had time to think before the lights flickered, then went out. The darkness swallowed me whole. I gasped, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. My phone, the only light left, flickered too, the screen distorting. static warping the image. I could still see my reflection. And the thing behind me. It was closer now. So close that if it had a mouth, it could whisper in my ear. I couldn't breathe. I squeezed

my eyes shut, my fingers curling so tightly around my phone it hurt. This isn't real. It couldn't be. I had to move. I forced myself to take a step back, reaching for the wall, for the door, for anything solid. My fingers found the handle. I turned it. The door wouldn't open. Something pressed against my back. Not a hand. Not a body. Just pressure.

Like the air itself had thickened, molding around me, holding me in place. My reflection twitched. My reflection smiled. My reflection wasn't me anymore. The lights flickered back on. And I was alone. The pressure was gone. The room was silent again.

My legs nearly gave out as I stumbled away from the mirror, shoving my phone into my pocket, trying to catch my breath. I had to go. I didn't care if the door was locked. I would break a window, run barefoot into the woods if I had to. But when I turned back to the door, it was open. Just a crack. And from the dark hallway beyond, something laughed.

A dry, rasping, inhuman sound. I didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe. Then, the door creaked open. And I saw it. Not a shadow this time. Not a reflection.

Something real. Something that had been waiting. And it was smiling at me. I ran. I didn't think. Didn't look back. I ran. The hallway stretched ahead of me, warped by shadows that flickered in the dim light.

The walls felt too close, the air too thick. The thing behind me, whatever it was, was still there. Watching. Waiting. But it wasn't stopping me. That was worse. I didn't care where I was going, just that I had to get out. Out of the house.

Out of the town. Away from whatever had stepped through that window in the woods. My hand slammed against the front door. Unlocked. I didn't hesitate. The night air hit me like a shock of cold water, but I didn't stop. My car was pointless. key still in my bag, bag still upstairs, and I wasn't about to go back.

The only place left to go was the one place I never should have been in the first place. The woods. I sprinted across the yard, my lungs burning, my legs screaming. I didn't care. The trees loomed ahead, dark and endless, swallowing the last bits of moonlight. My chest tightened at the thought of stepping back into them. But I had no choice. Because something was behind me.

I heard it. A slow, dragging step. Not running. Not chasing. Because it didn't have to. I hit the tree lean at full speed, branches clawing at my arms, twigs snapping beneath my feet. The deeper I went, the quieter the world became. Like it was holding its breath. I didn't know where I was going.

My phone was still in my pocket, but I wasn't about to slow down and check the time. Or the messages. Or the camera. Not after what I had seen. The clearing. That was the only answer. I had to find it again. I pushed forward, lungs burning, feet aching, my mind screaming at me to turn back, but there

was nothing to turn back to. The laughter followed me. That dry, rasping sound. Closer now. I bit down on a whimper, refusing to look back. I wasn't fast enough. It was always right there. A root caught my foot.

I hit the ground hard. Then shot up my arms, my palms scraping against rock and dirt. I gasped, trying to push myself up, and then I saw it. A head, in the distance. The window. Still standing in the clearing. Still wrong. Still showing something I knew wasn't real.

I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the way my body ached, the way my breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. I had come back here for a reason. I didn't know what it was. But something did. The laughter stopped. And I knew, without looking, it was standing right behind me. I didn't want to turn around.

I knew it was there. I felt it. Close enough that if I moved too slowly, if I hesitated for even a second, it could reach out and, no. I couldn't think about that. The window was in front of me. Still standing in the clearing. Still impossible.

The scene inside hadn't changed. My bedroom. Exactly as I had left it. Except for one thing. The figure in my bed was sitting up now. I could see its head tilt toward me. A shadowy blur, just out of focus. I didn't have time to think.

I ran straight for it. My body slammed into the frame, and for a brief, impossible second, I thought I'd just crash through it. Fall forward into nothing. But instead, the world snapped. A cold rush of air sucked the breath from my lungs, like I was being pulled through a vacuum. My ears popped, and everything went silent. My vision fractured, like looking through broken glass, flashes of movement, color, but nothing

that made sense. Then, I hit the floor. Hard. My limbs tangled beneath me, and I gasped as the air punched from my chest. The world spun. My head throbbed. The silence stretched out, thick and unnatural, pressing in from every direction. I forced myself to sit up, blinking against the disorientation.

then I saw it. I was home. Or, it looked like home. I was sitting on my bedroom floor, facing the bed. The sheets were rumpled, just like they had been when I left. My phone was still on the nightstand, it screened dark. The window in the wall showed the same quiet neighborhood street. For a second, I almost believed it. Then my eyes landed on the door. It was wrong, slightly too tall. The edge is too sharp. And the shadows beneath it, they moved. A slow, pulsing shift, as if something on the other side was breathing. I pushed myself to my feet. My hands were shaking. I didn't know what I had expected, but I knew this wasn't right. I turned back to the window, hoping, praying, that I could step through it

again. But it was gone. Just a blank wall. Like it had never been there at all. A soft creak behind me. I spun around, heart slamming against my ribs. The door had opened. Not all the way. Just enough to show the darkened hallway beyond. And in that hallway, something stood waiting. Not moving. Not breathing. Just watching.

I swallowed hard. My throat was dry, my pulse hammering in my ears. I wasn't in my house. Not anymore. And whatever was in here with me, it knew. I didn't move. Neither did it. The figure in the hallway was just standing there, its shape obscured by shadows.

Too tall. Too still. Then, it tilted its head. A slow, deliberate motion. Not human. Not natural. Like it was trying to understand me. Something deep inside me screamed to run. But I didn't. Because behind me, from the wall where the window should have been, a voice whispered,

Don't, I stiffened. My breath caught in my throat. It was my voice. I turned my head slightly, just enough to see the mirror hanging on the far. wall. Except, it wasn't just a reflection. I was standing in it. My reflection was looking at me, but its lips were moving on their own. Don't run. It wants you to. The thing in the hallway took a step forward. I flinched. My reflection didn't. It plays by rules. The whisper came again. Play back, rules. I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Everything here was wrong, but it had

structure. The window had worked like a portal. The door had opened when I acknowledged it. And this, thing, was waiting for me to react. Like a game. I looked at my reflection, meeting my own eyes. What do I do? I mouthed. The other me smiled. Not a reassuring smile. Not comforting. It was a grin full of knowing. Use the board, I frowned. The board? I glanced back at the room. My room. Everything was identical to how I'd left it. My bed, my phone, my desk, then I saw it. My chessboard. It was set up on my desk, mid-game. The last match I'd played against myself. White's move. I didn't have time to question it. I walked toward it slowly, forcing my breathing to stay even. Behind me, I could hear the thing in the hallway shifting,

it's movement slow, patient. Waiting. I reached the desk and studied the board. My last move had left my queen exposed. If I was playing against myself, I'd take it with a knight. I lifted the black knight and moved it. As soon as I let go, the door slammed shut. A gust of air rattled through the room, making the walls tremble.

I turned back toward the mirror. My reflection was nodding. Good, the ground beneath me shuddered. The wall stretched, as if it was a wall stretched, as if it was. if the entire room was breathing. The air grew thick, heavy, pressing in on me. Another piece had moved on the board. Not by me. Black Pawn, two spaces forward. My turn again. A sick realization settled in my stomach. I wasn't playing alone. I turned toward the door. The thing in the hallway, whatever it was, was still there. Except now, it was smiling too. I exhaled slowly

and faced the board again. If this was a game, I had to win. I didn't look up from the board. I didn't dare. Whatever was in the hallway wanted me to react, and I wasn't going to give it the satisfaction. I studied the pieces, my hands clammy as I reached for my next move. Pawn to E4.

I let go. The second I did, the entire room lurched sideways, like the floor itself had tipped. I staggered, barely keeping my balance as my stomach twisted from the shift. My desk dragged itself a few inches closer to the mirror. The air pulsed like a heartbeat, thick and suffocating. Behind me, I could hear the thing move. Its footsteps didn't match the floor.

Like it wasn't walking on wood, but something else entirely. Something wet. Something alive. I clenched my jaw and looked at the board. The next move had already been made. A night, creeping closer to my king. I swallowed. It was testing me.

I slid my fingers over a bishop, considering my options. If I took the knight, I'd expose my queen. If I moved my queen, I'd leave my king vulnerable. Every move had a consequence. I glanced at the mirror. My reflection was still watching, but its expression had changed. No more grin. No amusement.

It looked worried. That made two of us. I shifted my bishop forward, threatening the night. As soon as I let go, the room shuddered again. The door to the hallway slowly creaked back open. And the thing in the shadows stepped inside. I gripped the edge of my desk so hard my knuckles turned white. It was closer now.

I still couldn't see its face, if it even had one, but its shape was wrong. Its limbs were too long, its spine curved unnaturally. And worst of all, I could hear it breathing. Deep, wet gasps. Like it was trying to taste the air. I forced my eyes back to the board. The game wasn't over. I could still win.

The pieces rattled. Another had moved, on its own. The night was now right next to my king. I was running out of time. My reflection in the mirror shook its head. Wrong move. A chill crawled up my spine. I turned back to the board, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I had to think. Had to be smart. If this was a game, there was always a way out. I looked at my pieces. Then I looked at my opponents. And finally, I realized, I wasn't playing to win. I was playing to survive. The rules have been clear from the start. Every move I made changed the room. Changed what was coming for me. But if I didn't move, if I refused to play, what happened then? The thing in the room took another step closer. I clenched my fists. Then, for the first time since the game started, I did nothing. And the room went. silent. The silence pressed in on me, thick and absolute. I didn't move. The thing in the room didn't either. The only sound was my own heartbeat, hammering inside my chest like it was trying to escape. I kept my hands in my lap, fingers curled so tight they ached. My eyes flicked to the board. No new moves. The pieces remained frozen where they were. The night still

loomed over my king. A checkmate waiting to happen. But it hadn't happened yet. The thing in the room shifted. I could hear it, the slow creak of weight pressing into the floor. The wet, dragging breaths, just behind me now. Close enough that I could feel the air change. Feel the cold creeping over my skin. I kept my eyes down. If I reacted, I'd lose.

My reflection in the mirror still watched, but something had changed. It wasn't mirroring me anymore. It was moving on its own. It raised its hand and tapped a finger against its temple. Think. I swallowed. Then, slowly, I leaned forward and stared at the board. There had to be something I was missing. The game was still going. The thing in the room was still waiting. Waiting for me to make the next move. I studied the pieces. My opponent sighed. And then, I saw it. The one piece I hadn't been paying attention to. The king. Not my king. There's.

I inhaled sharply. This wasn't about surgery. survival. It never had been. It was about winning. And there was only one way to do that. I reached out, slow and steady. The thing in the room lurched forward. I ignored it.

My fingers closed around my queen. I moved her. The second I let go, checkmate. The room convulsed. A sound ripped through the air, something high-pitched and wrong, like metal scraping against bone. The walls blurred, folding in on themselves like paper. My desk split in half, the mirror cracked, and the thing in the room, it screamed.

Not a sound of pain. A sound of rage. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the edge of the table as the world collapsed around me. And then, silence. A different kind this time. Not heavy, not pressing. Just, empty. I opened my eyes.

The board was gone. The room was normal again. And I was alone. At least, that's what I thought. Until I saw the mirror. The reflection inside it. It was still playing the game. And this time, it wasn't me sitting in the chair.

This story is true. I'm a homeless writer who is hell-bent on telling the stories of the streets. All names have been changed, but the truth is still there. Thank you for reading. Stacey was in the kitchen apologizing again. That meant that she would be put out in a few minutes. She smoked heroin from a piece of aluminum foil, heating the dope from underneath the foil with a lighter ore, for best results, one of those small butane torches that have grown

so popular lately. The goal was to heat it just to the point that smoke would start rising, being careful not burn it, and then inhaling that through a straw, the body of a pen, or a rolled up piece of paper would serve the purpose if nothing else. This is called hot rails or hot railing it. A lot of people who did hot rails didn't consider themselves to be addicted, no matter how many times they had that foil in hand every day. I pointed out to people all the time that if your every waking moment is dictated by dope, then you are addicted. It can be any pleasure or feeling that you can administer to yourself, chocolate, sex, gambling, or eating. We all know someone who always has a cup of coffee or can of soft drink

in their hands or within reaching distance at all times. A constant treadmill or circular behavior. Get your fix, do your fix, locate your fix, get your fix, do your fix, locate your fix, locate your fix, and on and on it goes until death to you part. If you wake up and take inventory so you'll know how to plan your day, then you're an addict whether you like it or not. Stacey was one of those who figured she wasn't an addict because she smoked rails and didn't shoot anymore. She just liked it a whole lot, so much so that she would even put a price tag on her body if that's what it took to get more. Man, is Nick around? If not, then call him and tell him that he can come get her, or we let the first dude we see walking down the street walk her home.

Reckon he'll get that message. I'm sorry, I'm making too much noise, ain't I? She sounded so profoundly sorrowful in her apology that you couldn't really be mad. She sounded like she was apologizing for every terrible thing throughout history. Someone had done a real number on this girl, with damage too deep to cure. Even the process of putting on her shoes was like a day at the circus. Come on, damn it, Stacy, get your shoes. Tommy was starting to completely lose his patience with her, and that might not end well.

I heard the notification alert on Tommy's phone. He read off the text to me, please don't hurt her. I'll be there in ten. Tommy looked like Atlas after he set the world down, relieved. He better hurry, or I can't promise not to hurt her. You would hurt me, Tommy? Serious. What did I do?

I am so sorry. Nobody's hurting anybody. Got that? Just find your shoes, or Nick said he'll take Bethany back to the shack. I said in an attempt to focus her energy. It didn't seem to be working. What made Stacey different was her sadness, as though some event in her life had bonded to her very soul with such a weight

that it forced her body to move with a sluggishness of a worn-out pack animal who has known better days. Something from her past was constantly pulling her back, and every step forward that she took was a life-draining struggle. Something back there wanted her to come face it, to stand up and give a closure. But Stacey was fighting tooth and nail to remain in the present, so she smoked her rails, did her tricks, conned her cons, and told herself over and over that she would never go back there. Yet it was clear to everyone that knew her that the only way forward for her would be to go

back. Start from the starting point. When she was just where she wanted to be, then she could get comfortable enough to sit and enjoy being in the moment, but when she passed that line of just right, that anchor from the past somehow appeared where only she only she could see it, and she would start begging it for forgiveness, for some measure of comfort. But the Beast wasn't there for redemption, just to feed itself off her sorrow. Her anguish would become overpowering.

No matter what she did, it would never be enough for the Beast. You couldn't even talk to her over her constant apologies, which would get louder and louder until she was wailing about how sorry she was for everything. For being born, for being there, for getting too high, for existing in the present. She sounded like someone was beating her, so I had no choice but to make her leave. No sleep and many times tempers would flare. but not even the threat of bodily harm would dampen her tamber or pull her through her hysteria. The act of putting on her shoes would take an hour or more, like a toddler getting ready to go

somewhere that they really didn't want to go, like the dentist office, to bed early, or maybe awake. When Stacey wasn't too high, she was easy enough to get along with, and at times, I caught myself noticing a certain attractiveness about her. Standing all of maybe five foot two, with a well-proportioned body, she had long, dirty blonde hair that always put me in the mind of the women you would see at the first woodstock. Her face was dainty and sharp as a ceramic doll, but it was covered in deep scars, like she had been afflicted with smallpox at a young age, or maybe a nightmare of a case of acne. That was definitely the only thing that was a, I guess you could say flaw in her beauty,

for one of a better word, and it made her quite self-conscious, as I suppose it would anyone. Her beauty had been marred to the point of being a disfigurement. But that didn't stop the men from coming around. Some, it seemed, just for the cruelty of reminding her that she was damaged goods. But, goods nonetheless. She never had any problems financing her next high. One clue to her pain came to me in the form of her mother, a short, stocky woman who radiated cruelty. She had sharp, unforgiving features that seemed to come straight from central casting to play

whatever villain that was needed. Face wrenched in a permanent scowl, and even her smile, as seldom as it appeared, was off balance somehow, having more of an appearance of smug satisfaction. than of a humorous quality. It gave no vibe of happiness. Her mother had legal custody of her two teenage daughters and had brought them to the house to spend time with her, according to the stipulations of her visitation agreement, but as usual, Stacy was either running very late, stranded somewhere without a ride, going

to a last-minute job interview, although sometimes she did not even bother to make an excuse and just outright blew them off. When it became clear that Stacy wasn't going to show for this visitation, again, her mother immediately launched into a tirade of what a useless whore of a mother she was, how she could never do anything right, how she was so stupid that she could fuck anything up, and how she could only think about herself, oblivious to how it affected those around her. Then she went into great detail telling that she was sure that any day now she was sure she would be getting the news that she had been found dead in some trap house with a needle hanging out of her arm

in silent testimony to how she lived. Her 14, and 16-year-old daughters are sitting right there, soaking in all the abuse and the foretelling of their mother's death. They tried to act like it didn't really matter, but I knew inside they felt as though they were what didn't really matter. When good old mom decided to inform me of what a sorry example of a human I had staying in my spot, I put it to an end, shutting her down by arguing that she a caring and worthwhile person. For everything negative that she threw out there, I countered with two positives, a game

that Mom wasn't ready for and seemed to make her a bit uncomfortable. So much so that she decided to cut our little visit short and took her little toxic roadshow of venom spewing somewhere else not quite so confrontational. I know from experience that this will be the very mother who will play the sympathy card for years if Stacey does live up to her mom's prophecy. Of course, she will be in need of money to take care of the plans and to get her through her period of intense mourning. I would be willing to wager that she has already figured out how to use GoFund Me like an expert,

you know, if the need should arise. Three days after the visitation attempt, Stacy's daughters decided to call her and let her know that they hated her now and hoped they never had to see her again. They told her that their grandma was right, she was nothing but a dope whore who should die in the gutter, and then hung up on her before she could respond. That night, Stacey decided that she wasn't getting her full money worth by hot railing her dope and went back to the needle after a seven-month tolerance break. Three days after that, she was in the hospital on a ventilator from an overdose. She parleyed that into a three-day vacation from the streets. Just like so many addicts before her,

Stacy hoped to mitigate the damage she had caused by announcing that she was on the path to wellness as of now. She had seen the errors of her ways and would be checking into a treatment center straight out of the hospital to begin her life again. She seemed so sincere that Nick left her because, of course, he did. He stopped by the house on his way to Greensboro, Charlotte, Savannah, Georgia, or maybe to Italy during the period of Leonardo da Vinci was doing his thing. Doesn't matter what he said, really. He made it to the dealer's house on Fifth Street, and was still there when Stacy decided that the rigors of living a clean life would probably be too much to deal with at this time, and that she should probably hold off until she was in a

better place emotionally and financially. Oh well, better luck next time. Stacey fled the hospital while waiting for transport to a treatment center that took all, or even no insurance. Money wasn't even required. Romeo and Juliet were reunited when Juliet arrived at the dope man's house on Fifth Street and found her Romeo cooking up a 20 bag into a couple of shots for the night when his purpose for living walked in the front door with twenty more bucks that her mother had given her to try and get a ride to the treatment center. Her mom said that she would have taken her, but, well, you know. So Romeo and Juliet took a good shot apiece and did what desperate lovers do the world over. They gave each other a shot of heroin, curled up on the

couch and nodded out while watching a nameless and faceless cartoon. Epilogue, some two years later, I ran into Nick while having a crisis night of my own. I had been chased out of my abandoned house by dope dealers who wanted to control the place and turn it into a trap house. I fled to a motel and managed to stay there for almost two weeks before the money went dry, and they sent me on my way. I had been walking with my total weight on my back for over fifteen hours, straight looking for at least a temporary hideout to get rested. Your total weight is when you have everything you have left in the world on your person.

The total of your weight. I had just crossed the bridge over the railroad tracks where I had to talk to myself about the pros and cons of a life continued. I thought I heard my name being psted out of the darkness at the end of the bridge. What manner of beast nocturnal did speak my name? I implored the emptiness. Turned out it was just Nick. Hey, man.

I heard about all the bullshit that happened at the house. You all right? Nah, man. Not by a long shot. I loved that place. I know, brother. Everyone knows it, and we all appreciate what you tried to do. many people just show up out of nowhere and start looking out for people they don't even

know, and don't expect some kind of payback. Hell, at first I thought you were playing some angle or something. A lot of us did. But that was some real shit you were throwing down. I had never heard dot him sound so real before. This was a side of Nick I had never seen before. Sincere. Anyway, you got anywhere to crash.

You look pretty tired. Man, I could really use some random act of kindness right now. You got anything up that sleeve of yours? One of the good things about Nick was his ability to catch the nuance if good banter. Yeah, bro. I got you. Back this way. I've got me a nice bandy all to myself.

I told everyone that a friend of mine cursed it and that spirits walked undead at night there, so nobody out here wants to even go through the yard. Dumbass Hicks. He informed me as he turned from the dark and started into the real dark overgrowth that seemed to be thriving off the neglect of the yard. He led the way around the side of the house and to a back deck that looked older than this state. It appeared that the builder of the deck believed that craftsmanship was a foreign concept

and had used pre-rotted lumber. But, somehow, I made it around in total darkness, up the rotten steps to the deck, and through the smashed glass sliding doors into Nick's very own hideaway. Man, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. Where can I plop? Anywhere you deem ploppable? Wherever my fat ass will fit? Your words.

Not mine, he smiled and added, but, my words would be very similar to the ones you just used. With that, he busted out laughing, obviously very pleased with his clever and sharp wit. It was always a good thing to find someone who could relate to your sense of humor, and no got all mad or offended. Some people out here would have felt that Nick's remark was over the line, and whether he meant any disrespect or not, disrespect was all that would have been taken and that that would have been enough for that person to burn down the world. I plopped with an exaggerated sigh, too grandiose I was to be in a bandy. I looked at him with my best satisfied smile and said, to-shae, motherfucker. A little later Nick asked me if I wanted to some wax his friend had just brought from California and laid on him for free.

I had never smoked wax before and told him so. Ooh, I got me a virgin, eh. Well, come to Papa. Why did you have to make it weird? That's my superpower. You didn't know. You better be asking something. somebody. How long am I good for here? When homeless, you always feel like you've worn out

your welcome before you even arrived. You can stay as long as you want, man. Come back whenever you want. No sweat. Hell, I owe you that much, at least. I could see the wax taking effect in his eyes. Or maybe it was the wax taking effect in my eyes that made his eyes look like that. Just come alone, that's all I ask, he thought for a brief second and then added, make sure you announce yourself though when you come up. Me and Stacy might be in here trying to pollinate some flowers. Dig? Not a problem, I could definitely feel the wax now, and I was glad I stopped at two hits. It felt like a peppy sativa buzz. My mouth became engaged. So, how is the little lady these days? She's good. She was around here earlier. Don't know where she got off to. Dude, I have

never seen as much sadness in a human being as I see in her. I feel bad for her, carrying around all that shit. And then, to have a rabbit honey badger for a mom can't help. She's been like that for five years, bro. Every since she hit her brother with the shot that killed him. I was speechless. Jesus, what a thing to carry with you every day. How does a person get past that? Can a person get past that? Damn, bro. I didn't know about all that. What happened. Hot shot. A hot shot is one that contains a lot more fentanyl than the user is aware of, which can lead to immediate overdose and death. Nah, they had split a 40 of some good shit that Stacy's dealer was slinging at the time, so they had planned on shooting it as

soon as he got home from work and then watched that Motley crew movie together. They were really close like that. But, what she had no way of knowing is that Eric had skipped work and had been partying all day. Doing perks and snorting Roxy's mixed up with coke and eating Zanis on top of all that. May have been some liquor involved at some point as well. I could see Nick's lighter under the desk and realized he was cooking up a shot as he talked, so, needless to say, when she hit him, he just croaked right out. His shit just stopped almost immediately.

She didn't have time to find the Narcan, much less use it. So that's what all the apologizing and saying she shouldn't have been born is all about. Fuck, man. That's a heavy-duty load to be carrying around all the time. Oh, it gets better. Her mom decided that Stacey had killed Eric, the golden child on purpose because she had signed for him to get a car and she wouldn't do that for Stacy. So, her mom goes and tells the cops what she thinks and they came and got her.

Put her under a $1 million bail that no bail bondsman in the area would touch. Every day she's in jail, the cops are trying to beat her down. Telling her that they know it wasn't an accident and that they can prove she meant to kill her. They're calling her a murderer and all this shit. That fucking shit weighs a whole lot on an 18-year-old. She said at one point they had her believing that she killed him on purpose. They beat her down so bad that she'll never stand up straight again. Fucking cops.

Real bad asses bullying some 18-year-old girl into believing that she intentionally killed the brother she fucking worshipped. And, to top it all off, they wouldn't let her go to his funeral. They said they would arrange it, and then, on the very day of his service, they told her that they just decided not to. Fuck, man. That explains a lot. Damn. That poor girl. Yeah, man.

That's one of the reasons I'll always be there for her. I can't just run out on her. I love her. I may not show it like I should sometimes, but I could never add to her pain. Unless she gets clean, right? Unless she gets clean. I watched Nick's head bob up and down for a moment until his conscience just gave up and he slumbered in the arms of Morpheus, leaving me alone with this. this new info running around my brain. Sometimes, it takes years for the critical piece of a puzzle

to be found. For some, like Stacy, that piece will never be found because it was buried without her even being there. How can she be fixed? Can she be fixed? Left to wander in a perpetual state of grief and anguish for a mistake that left no one alive to forgive her. Not even herself. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. INC slash ExtE Dark Void, No Time, Fade in, it was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice, Joseph Conrath, fade to, ExtT, jungle, day, the jungle is still.

Quiet. Except from the faint call of birds and the trees, no other sound is heard. 4. Tie and Nottie storm through. Hand in hand. Exhausted. Force themselves to keep moving. Their legs now give out as both collapse to their knees. Try to regain their breaths. Noddy looks around at the numerous identical trees and vegetation. Noddy, breathless, which? Which way do we go now? T.Y.E. Breathless, I don't. I don't know. We've just got to keep moving. Come on.

They rise to their feet to continue through the jungle. Too exhausted to run. Tai leads the way with Nottie behind. Nottie, why did you do that to Moses? T.Y.E. Noddy, don't ask me that. Noddy, why? Why did you do it? T.Y. I said don't ask me that. A.H. An arrow shoots out from the jungle, straight into Ty's.

back. Nottie, Ty. Nottie rushes to Ty on the ground. She looks back to see Ruben and a handful of FPs, coming straight towards them. Nottie, Sill and T. Tai. They're coming. We need to go. Nottie helps Ty to his feet. Tye, A. H. pushes her away, go. Just run. Nottie, Ty. Please just come, Ty, go. Nottie, no. Come on. Ruben, Suttles, in French, sees them. Nottie tries to drag Thai with her, it's too late.

Two burnt FPs snatch Nottie away from Ty. She screams, as two more force tie back to the ground. One rips out the arrow. Tie, ah. Ruben's now caught up. Ruben, Subtitles, in French, Turn Him. Turn him around. Tai sees Ruben stood over him. His skin is scabbed and fleshy from horrific burns.

He looks monstrous. From his sheath, Ruben pulls out Jacob's sword. The blade is black with charcoal. He puts it into Ty's mouth. Ruben, Silenteed, to Ty, do you know what we do with murderers? Ty stares back and forth from the blade to Ruben. Noddy tries to fight off the FPs, before a machetes held to her throat. Ruben, Sill and Teed, we skin them alive.

Beat. And then, a roar. Races into, F.p. hashtag 2, awe. F.P. hashtag 2's taken off his feet. On the ground, as a leopard tears into his throat. everyone caught off guard the leopard turns to f dot p hashtag three fumbles with his bow and arrow manages to let loose before f dot p hashtag three ah ah the leopard pounces and rips into him rubin subtitles in french kill it kill it one of two remaining fps decides to run so does the other as the leopard continues to devour their fellow private. Ty now moves to Nadi, away from Ruben, who's focused solely on the leopard. Ruben tries to sneak up on it. It sees him. The leopard, mouth-stained red, snarls intimidatingly

at Ruben. Begins to move in, eager to devour him. Beat. Ruben, Silentee come on. Ruben thrusts up the sword to strike. Before the leopard takes him off his feet with momentum. Leave him, the rest to imagination. Ruben O. S screams, H. Ah. Tye and Nottie don't run. They watch this happen. Ruben O. Suntid, in French, H. Help. Tye now bravely goes and takes Jacob's sword. As, Ruben falls silent. His torso ripped apart. Open, stare into nothing. The leopard, having taken his life, turns away, to Ty in Nottie's direction. Ty holds out the sword.

T.Y.E. to Nottie, get behind me. The leopard prowls up slowly to them. Growls. Tie and Nottie look completely helpless. Beat. The leopard now whimpers. Turns its body away from them. Ty and Nottie watch on as the leopard groans and whimpers O.S. accompanied by the sound

of morphing and bones cracking. Tai and Nottie's expressions have now changed drastically. As they now see, Henry crouched down on the floor. Naked. Nottie, Henry. Nottie runs over to Henry. She holds him. Nottie, so entee Henry.

It's me. It's Nadea. I comes halfway over. T.Y.E., dude. You can turn into a leopard. Henry regains consciousness. Yet, he's in pain. T.Y.E., so indeed, why would you do that?

Why would you, save us? I thought you were one of them. Henry, I was never one of them. T.Y.E., well, what the fuck were you thinking, man? First you kill M.O., then you let them. Nottie, Ty. Just leave it. Okay.

If it wasn't for Henry then, Henry, Og. Noddy, Henry. What's wrong? Henry sits up. Stares at his hands as he tries to tense them. Beat. He now realizes he's naked. Henry, I need trousers.

Nottie, Ty, bring him some trousers. Tai pauses at naughty. Nottie, Silentee go on. He gives her a look, as to say, I'm the one who saved you, before he goes over to a dead FP. Nottie, Sileneteed, to Henry, are you in pain? Henry doesn't answer. Continues to stare at his hands, now moves them better. Nottie, Silentied Henry.

Why did you come for us? Henry now looks up to Nottie. She sees the return of emotion to his face. Henry, they were going to kill you. Beat. Tears now form in Nottie's eyes, before she rests her head on Henry's shoulder, a sort of thank you. Ty comes back with clothing from the dead FP. He sees Nottie and Henry together.

Moments later, Henry dresses himself in the F.p's uniform. T.Y. Well. Now what? Beat. Henry, follow me. Henry begins to walk ahead. Leaves Ty and Nottie confused. T.Y.E. Why?

You taking us back to the fort. Nottie, Ty. Don't. Henry, we've been in this jungle long enough. Beat, turns to them, it's about time we left. Nottie and Ty share a look. T.Y.E. You know a way out. Beat.

Henry, follow me. Noddy, Henry. Henry? Henry stops, as Noddy approaches him. He has his back to her. Nottie, Silenteed Henry, look at me. Henry turns round to Nottie. He can barely make eye contact with her. Nottie, Sileneteed, how do you know? How do you know we can find a way out of here? Henry now makes eye contact with her. Stares into those innocent, pleading eyes. Beat. Henry, the jungle is dying. Exte Fort, Day, everything is burnt to a crisp, the walls.

Cabins Huts Smoke still rises from the ashes. Dead F. P's lay scattered on the floor. The idle, however, remains untouched. The pit beneath it. The middle cage. Only slightly burnt.

An arm reaches out from between the bars to try and grab a knife from a scorched F.P. Inside the cage, the arm belongs to Beth. Shuntall beside her. Beth, God. He smells nasty. Chantal, can you reach it? Beth groans as she forces her shoulder through the bars. Yet, the knife is too far away. Beth, Ak. Damn it. Lucian. He lays lifeless against the same pull Ty was tied to. He stares into nothing. A large number of footsteps are now heard coming towards him. The sound of rattling. Beth, shit. Beth quickly brings her arm back in. Chantal, what? What is it? Beth, someone's coming. E.T. Jungle, Day. Henry leads the way

through the forest as Nottie and Tye follow together. T.Y. E. To Henry, how much further do we need to go? Beat. No answer. T.Y. E. So and Tid are we at least close. Henry still doesn't answer. T.Y.E. So and Tid dude. Henry stops. Stairs ahead. As do Noddy and Thai. Noddy, Henry. What is it? Beat. Henry continues, into the trees. Nottie and Ty lose sight of him. T.Y.E. Come on. They rush after him.

Push their way through branch and bush. Beat. They come back on Henry, as he stands next to, a large bulldozer. Windows smashed. Large tracks left in its wake. T.Y. Seen teed, shit. Beat. Noddy, this.

This came from the outside. Henry goes round to the cab. Climes up and pulls the door open to reveal, a dead driver inside. Two arrows protrude out his chest. Nottie and Tynow C. Nottie gasps. Beat. Nottie, who did this?

T.Y. Who do you think did this? It was the force public. Noddy, no. These aren't their arrows. to Henry Henry Whose arrows do these belong to Beat Henry come on

Henry jumps down he follows on the tracks the way the bulldozer came TYeth wait where the hell are you going now Henry stops Henry this entered from the outside Beat we now have a path Henry continues down the tracks

Noddy and Ty share a look of hope to one another, before they hurry after him. E.X.D. Fort, continuous. Lusian now snaps out from his trance. Now here's the coming sounds. Slowly raises his head T.O.C. The tribe's people. The same that took Angela, only now a small army of them. All armed with spears and bows. They halt a few meters away from Lucian. Lucian stares back at the masked faces. Unafraid. He instead begins to laugh. Beat. The laughs turned to hysteria. At the cage, Beth and Chantal retreat back as they see the tall, red figures approach. A handful of the tribes people now stare in through the cage to see them together, terrified. Beat. The tribes people remove their masks. To reveal, all women. Beth and Chantal see the feminine

faces through the bars. Now more surprised than afraid. A small commotion now happens behind them, as someone pushes their way through to the cage. Angela. Angela, Beth. Beth sees Angela searching through the bars. Angela, so indeed Beth. Beth, oh my God.

Angie! Beth throws herself towards Angela. Angela, Beth. They embrace through the gaps. Angela, silenete, oh my God. Are you okay? Beth, Angie. Thank God.

Please. You got to get me out of here. Angela, okay. Okay. Hold on. Angela cuts loose the rope holding the cage door shut. Swings it open. Beth, oh God.

Angie. Angela, Beth. Beth exits out the cage as. her and Angela embrace again. Beat. Beth, up from Angela, slaps her. Beth, angry, cries, where the hell were you? You left me. Where the hell did you go? Angela, I know, baby. I know. I'm sorry. Beth now realizes Angela's appearance. Beth, oh my God. Baby, what happened to you? looks at women, who are all these people. Angela turns her head back to the red women.

Angela, smiles, they're my tribe. Chantal now steps out the cage. A red woman, sees she's weak, helps her out. Chantal stares up at the woman nervously. Lucian continues to laugh madly. Beth and Chantal follow Angela as she tries to find her way through, as all the women's attention turns on Lucian. He now soliloquizes in Latin.

Lucian, Subtitles, in Latin, Father, Forgive Them, for these heathens do not know what evil they do. In French, they believe you to be their mother, as their mothers were raped and slaughtered. The red women now part in the middle so to let an unseen someone come through. Angela tries to see through the narrow red bodies, as, childlike footsteps now come through the gap to Lucian. Lucian, still laughing, as he sees the figure come closer. His laughter now abruptly gives way. Beat. Lucian sees the wot.

Only now, he is Esichy. A wudis. Small breasts and long, braided hair. A staff in hand. Esichy stares eye level with Lucian. He clearly recognizes her. Stunned by what he sees. Before laughs again.

Lucien, Silen Teed, laughs, in French, an abomination. The Woothe signals with her hand, as two tribes women bring Lucian to his feet. They tie his hands behind the pole. Angela now sees what's going on. Lucian laughs no more, as five women stand out to knock their arrows. Lucian, Silen Teed, Hen, Henry. Henry. Lucian searches round the remains of the

camp. Lucian, Subtitles, So Antide, in French, My Son. Exte, Tracks, Later, Nottie and Tai continue to follow Henry on the tracks. Beat. The tracks now come to a stop, end in a U-turn. T.Y. shit. Thai and Nottie see where the tracks end. T.Y. So Antide, to Henry, I thought you said you knew a way out. Henry returns a blank reaction to Ty, before points out his arm. Henry, ahead. Nottie and Ty share in each other's confusion. They now begin ahead to what Henry points at. Now ahead of Henry. Nottie and Ty searched the jungle in front of them. Nottie sees it. Nottie, Thai. Look. Both of them now look. To see, a distant circular light. T.Y.E. Thank God.

A fucking light. Come on. Tie and knotty race towards the distant light. Henry, expressionless, watches them go. He now ambles after them. Exte Fort, Continuous. Lucien, tied to the pole. He panics, mumbles to himself.

The Wutes comes forward towards him. Lucian, subtitles, in French, My Son Shall Inherit the Earth. It is his destiny. The Wutes rips off the buttons from Lucian's shirt, exposes his chest. She steps back, as the five archers now raise their bows in position. Lucian, Subtitles, So Antide, in Latin, and those of false gods and prophets shall not delight in the abundance of his reign. The archers now hold. They wait for the Wudis orders.

Angela, Beth, and Chantal hold their breaths. Lucian, Subtitles, So Antide, in French, His Seed Shall, Wudis, Subtitles, In Ancient Language, Vanquish the Terror. The Archer's Fire Five arrows pierce straight through Lucian's chest and abdomen. Lucien, Og. Beth and Chantal cover their mouths in shock. Angela, however, takes pleasure in Lucian's execution. Lucian struggles to stay on his feet.

Swayes sideways. He collapses down against the pole. Absorbs his final breaths of air. Lucien, Silenteed, winces. Lucian can only manage to raise his eyes, towards the jungle in the distance, as he utters his final words. Lucian, Silentid, winces, Henri. Lucian's body falls limp against the pole.

His blue eyes stare into nothing. The Wutas stands over Lucian's dead body. Her face reveals a sadness. Exte, outside jungle, later, Nottie and Tye stare out at the brightness ahead, in despair. The ripple of a large sum of water is heard in front of them. Nottie, it's just water. Nottie and Ty now stand outside the jungle slash circle in the middle of a small clearing. Ahead of them, a surrounding mass of dark murky water.

A flood. Nothing else remains aside from flood. Loading branches and objects lost to time. The water covers far beyond the horizon. Nadi, Silentee, why is it just water? T.Y.E. This can't be happening. Beat. Henry O.S. You're free now.

Noddy and Ty turn round to Henry at the top of the clearing. The jungle behind him. Henry, Silentied you're free from this place. You can now find a new beginning. T.Y. E. Search is around, but there's nothing left. Where are we supposed to go? Henry points ahead. Ty and Nottie turn back to see a small boat floating in the distance. Henry, Sillantied, you both need to go. Nottie stares back confusedly to Henry. Nottie, Henry. She comes closer to him.

Nottie, Sillantied, are you not coming with us? Henry takes a couple steps back. "'Henry, I can't. I can't.' "'Noddy, Henry. "'What are you talking about?' "'Beat.' "'Henry, we were always supposed to come here you and I. "'But only one of us was ever supposed to leave. "'Noddy, but—'

"'I thought—' "'Noddy looks helplessly back and forth from Ty and Henry. "'Noddy, so indeed I thought we were supposed to be together. "'Remember?' That's why we both came here. Beat, Henry, just come with us. Henry's drawn down into Nottie's pleading eyes. Henry, Nadea.

I just can't. Noddy, well, if you're not going, then I'm not going. Okay. I'm not going anywhere without you. Without the three of us. Henry, Noddy. It's not our choice. Noddy, then we'll have to make it a

our choice. We'll have to make it. Noddy hits and grabs onto Henry. He now holds her as she begins to break down. Nottie, Silenteed, cries, I don't want us to be lost again. Tye cannot help but feel sorrow for Nottie, as she sinks herself into Henry's chest. Henry, Noddy. The whole world is yours now. Yours alone. You can finish what we thought we came here to do. What Moses wanted. You can make your very own utopia. Henry brings Nadi back up. Henry, Sionita Utopia where there is no hate.

No discrimination. No color. No pain. Noddy listens despairingly. Henry, Siontita Utopia where all lives matter. Beat. Tai now approaches behind Nadi. He puts a hand on her arm.

T.Y.E. Noddy. Let's go. Noddy, no. Henry, Noddy, listen. Listen. Henry now holds Nadi's face in his hands as she continues to cry and wail. Henry, Sillantied, listen to me. All the bad things you've experienced in this world. All the bad things. It's all in there. Henry points to the jungle. Henry, Siontied all the evil things our history has made us carry. It's inside there. It's inside me too. Beat, the jungle is dying, Nadia, and I have to die with it.

Beat. Noddy, no. Noddy shakes her head in denial. Her tears glisten in her eyes as she stares into Henry's. Noddy, no. Please no. Henry, I'm sorry. Beat.

T-Y-E, soft, naughty. come on we need to go tie pulls noddy away towards the flood she helplessly tries to stay keeps her eyes on henry emotion has finally returned to henry's face beat tie and noddy now enter the water when henry nadia noddy looks back hopeful henry subtitles so indeed in lin gala you and i share a blood I am always in your heart. Nottie, somehow, understands. Ty again pulls Nottie with him as she turns away from Henry with despair. Ty and Henry hold on each other. Ty nods to him, appreciatively.

Henry nods back. Ty joins Nottie as they now make their way through the water. Henry struggles to hold back his pain. ExtE boat, flood, moments later, now inside the boat. tie rose with a large branch out into the flood's open space. Noddy, heartbroken, stares back to the distant clearing. To find, Henry is no longer there. Exte Fort, later, the idol.

The tribeswomen have tightened rope around its body, where they now heave with all their combined strength. Manage to rip the idol from its roots. It now tilts forward slightly, before, it crashes down into the pit. The idol's head breaks off where the face has now split into two paces. The Wutas stands over the pit. Beat. She turns to face the tribe's women.

All grouped together. Angela, Beth and Chantal amongst them. The Wutas meets their eyes. Then, with a bang of her staff, Wutus, subtitles, in ancient language, the old gods are now dead. All that remains is the spirit of the forest. Ext jungle, they, and F.P's clothes are thrown to the jungle floor. Among the moving trees, Henry, now a leopard, moves quickly through the forest on all fours. He roars in anguish.

Extee Fort Continuous, Wootis, Subtitles, So Indeed, in ancient language, hail the spirit of the forest. Hail the spirit of the forest. The tribes women now join in the Wootis chanting. raise their spears into the air simultaneously. Tribeswomen, in ancient language, hail the spirit of the forest. Hail the spirit of the forest. Angela now passionately joins in the chanting. Angela, in ancient language, hail the spirit of the forest.

Beth and Angela watched this happen around them. They look fearful to one another, before hold the other by the hand. All, in ancient language, hail the spirit. of the forest. Exte, jungle, continuous. The chanting continues, as Henry moves high up in the trees. Leaps with ease from branch to branch. All, V.O, so enteed, hail the spirit of the forest.

Hail the spirit of the forest. Henry now scurries down the trunk and roots of a large tree. Back on the forest floor. He roars out again. All, V.O. so indeed, hail the spirit of the forest. The chanting continues. Henry now races forward. Losing U.S. as he continues through the ongoing trees and vegetation. Until we eventually lose sight of him altogether, as he disappears into the unseen darkness of the jungle.

Fade out. The end, logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. Inc. slash Ext. Dark void, no time. Fade in. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretense, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew, Joseph Conrad. Fade to, Ext. Fort, evening, the bodies of both Moses and Jerome, headless. hung upside down.

Moses' back covered in deep lash marks. Under the bodies are two wooden buckets filled up with blood. Intercut slash Ext Fort, Night. The fort is lit up by torches. In front of the icon, a square pit has been dug, resembles a shallow grave. At the very bottom, a human-shaped cross has been cut into it, as if so a person can be placed inside. Lucian stands over the pit slash grave. shirtless, blood handprints on his body in lines on his face.

Walking towards him now on the fire outlined path is Jacob and Rubin, also shirtless and covered in handprints. They accompany Henry, in the middle of them. Cloaked in black fur. He wears a demonic-looking leopard mask, hiding his face. They now reach Lucian. Jacob and Ruben remove the fur cloak, expose Henry in the nude. Henry's whole body is painted gold with black spots all over.

The grinning leopard face is now adjoined to his leopard body. Jacob turns Henry around to embrace his stiff, motionless stature. Jacob, in ear, time to find out who you really are. Ruben now embraces Henry. Ruben, subtitles, in French, congratulations, brother. Leaving Henry with Lucian, the two follow away on the path to stand within Ingrid in a band of shirtless, blood-painted FPs, watching on at the spectacle. Nottie, Chantal and Beth spectate from the cage.

Nottie's hands squeezed the wooden bars. Tie is sat obliviously against a wooden pole, tied to it by rope around his neck. Henry's blue eyes, behind the feline face. They stare straight through Lucien, into nothing. Lucian, it is time, my child. the pool of salvation. Lucian brings Henry down into the pit. Henry's too far gone to resist. Lucian places him into the cross-shaped hole, as if to be crucified. Two FPs come with the buckets of blood as they begin to fill the pit. The blood forms around Henry's body. Lucian turns

to the spectators. Lucian, still and teed, shouts, what you are about to witness, is the acceptance of one of our own. Boy shall be re-birthed into man. A man who will guide us into a new future. A future that shall last a thousand centuries. It is the will of the Lord. Long may he reign. Jacob, shouts, long may he reign.

All, long may he reign. Beat. Lucian, let us begin. Drums now start to be banged rhythmically by members of the FP. The pit continues to fill with more buckets of blood, now covers most of Henry, spills into his mask. Henry begins to squirm. Lucian squelches back into the pit to hold Henry down. Lucian, Silentee trust me, my child.

Two other FPs pinned down Henry's hands into the cross with the butts of their spears. Lucian now holds Henry's head under the blood, bubbles form. Henry, not so far gone now, begins. to instinctively panic. Lucian, Silenteed, to F. P.S., hold him. Lucian uses his whole body weight against Henry, as his legs kicked desperately. Lucian, Silentee hold him down. Large blood bubbles form out from Henry's mask.

The blood's choking him. He blacks out. Intercut with, a young native woman. In the jungle daylight. A maternal feel about her. Outside her hut, she kneels down to dig a small hole in the earth's ground. She sings in Lingala. She now fills the hole with water from a clay jug.

Continues to sing soothingly. Back to, Henry. Now conscious. Lucian again holds him under. Jacob waves his arms, encourages the FPs to dance. Jacob, to F.P.S. Dance. Dance. The drums rhythm is even faster now, as FPs start dancing to the tribal beat.

Jacob, Ruben, and Ingrid rejoice as this happens around them. Nottie looks on helplessly. Nottie, stop. You're killing him. Beth, so what? Let them kill him. Noddy turns back to Beth. Beth, Silenteed, you saw what he did to a mo.

Lucian still has Henry under the red surface. as he continues to struggle. Henry again blacks out. Intercut with, the Woot. He's in distress. Lafters heard coming from, Jacob and Rubin. With helmets on.

They watch over as 2 FPS nailed the Woot by his hands to a large tree, crucifying him. His small body a few feet off the ground. He's also bleeding from in between his legs. They've castrated him. Lucian is in B.K. He doesn't watch, yet deeply troubled by this. Back to, the young native woman. Her singing continues as she now breaks and grinds down several tiny clay human figures, some white, some black. She mixes the clay sediments into a bowl with water and other ingredients to make a paste. She now molds the paste into two new figures. Muddy gray in color. She puts them to dry on a large, boat

shaped leaf on the ground. Back to, Henry. Conscious again. The sound of drums is even faster. The dancing around now more of a frenzy. Feels very distorted. Jacob, faster. That's it. Faster. Faster the drummer's beat and faster the dancers dance. Henry's body goes limp for a final time. Cut to, int. missionary post 1890s day lucian looks the exact same except cleaner he holds a baby tightly towards him as he scurries past native members of the missionary he comes to a white man in victorian clothing the man gapes at the child lucian take him before they find out lucian hands the child over to the man white man english accent I shall make sure he is cared for. Lucian removes his cross necklace and places it on top the child. The child, a mixed color of skin.

And blue eyes. Cut to, intercut slash int. House, Oldham, England, Day, a seven-year-old Henry. Blue-eyed. Very innocent looking. In the corridor of an attached house. Melt down to him is a middle-aged man. Middle-aged man, now, son.

Who don't we trust? Seven-year-old D. Henry, darkies. Middle-aged man, and why don't we trust darkies? Seven-year-old D. Henry, because they're filth. Middle-aged man, smiles, that's a good lad. Back to, missionary post. The first native woman from Henry's dreams, now with her baby, also mixed color. native woman cries no no she pulls her child away from lucian's grasp refuses to give it over to him lucian it is best for the child

you cannot protect her native woman no the woman runs away into the jungle with her crying baby in her arms now the jungle In the same scenario as before from Henry's dream, as the very same Arab men steal her and the child away. Cut to, Int. Café, London, Day, Nottie and Henry sit across from each other. Nottie has on her hijab. Both look infatuated, unable to take their eyes from one another. Nottie, God. I feel like I've known you forever.

Later, Nottie removes her hijab in front of Henry. cut to the tree with the face it towers over from its pov it looks down upon lucian naked and dirty on his knees he prays to the tree gropes its roots back to the young native woman all the chaos from the montage has now gone only silence remains the woman returns back to singing contentedly as she places two wet gray figures on the boat-shaped leaf She lifts the leaf with the figures inside and places them in the hole filled with water. The leaf floats with the figures inside. Back to, Henry, breathes in air. Lucian releases his weight as Henry rises up from the pit, removes the mask to suck air back into his body. The leopard boy we saw is now inside out, as if skinned. A red anatomy with blue eyes.

The drummers and dancers have all stopped. They watch on. Lucian, for the first time with emotion in his eyes, as he holds Henry's face with one hand. Henry's eyes peer back at Lucian. His whole body jerks with every painful breath. Henry grabs onto Lucian's arm, before sinks forward into Lucian's chest. Lucian catches him, to maternally cradle Henry's head. Lucian, subtitles, in French, My Blood.

Lucian pears down at Henry's face, he appears cleansed, reborn. Henry, subtitles, in French, father. Lucian's taken back. He again stares into those familiar blue eyes. A tear falls down Lucian's bloodstained cheek. Lucian, subtitles, in French, my, my son, beat. Jacob, Rubin and Ingrid have come curiously over to the pit. They peered down to see Lucian, sat in the pool of blood, latched on to Henry, like a father holding his newborn.

Jacob, what on earth? Inc. Lucian's cabin, moments later. Lucian, Jacob, Rubin and Ingrid stand over a seated Henry, wrapped in the black fur, blood stained on his face, as he stares into nothing. Jacob, so and teed so, what did he say? Beat. Henry, he didn't say anything. This confuses them, especially Lucian.

Jacob, well, if he didn't speak to you, what else could he have done? Henry seems to be somewhere else. Henry, he showed me. He showed me everything. Everything I need to know. Jacob, you want to tell us that? Or shall we wait another hundred years? Lucian, Henry.

Lucian moves away from the others. He kneels down intimately to Henry. Lucian, so and he tell us. What did the Lord show you? Henry now looks through Lucian. Henry, he downloaded. He downloaded everything into my mind. Beat.

He showed me who I am. Jacob, yeah. And who is that? Lucian, he's my son. Beat, my son and heir. Ruben, so, it is true. He shares your blood. A tear once more falls down Lucian's cheek. His eyes remain on Henry. Lucian, yes. It is true, and when my time in this evil place comes to its end, he shall inherit

the earth. Everything here shall belong to him. To Henry, for the Lord chose you, Henry, long before you were ever born. Long before the exodus of my seed. Henry shows no emotion. continues to stare into nothingness. Beat. Lucian now bows to Henry. Caresses his feet. Lucian, so enteed, my son. My heir.

Jacob does the same, on his knees, bows. Jacob, long may he reign. Ruben and Ingrid now on their knees. Ruben slash Ingrid, long may he reign. Henry already appears long gone. insanity in his eyes stare into nothing beat henry i have gifts for you all ext cage continuous henry walks from lucian's cabin towards the middle cage noddy sees him come throws herself at the bars shuntall noddy no noddy henry are you okay what did they do to you henry henry stops

Stares blankly at her. This clearly isn't the Henry she knows. Too far gone. His blue eyes the only thing recognizable. Noddy, so enteed, Henry. Noddy reaches out her hand from the cage for Henry, to pull the reel him back. Henry coweres from her, as if she's dangerous. He now turns away to Lucian, Jacob and Rubin.

Henry, in Lynn Gala, to my subjects. My gift to you. Beat. Henry goes away, past the three men. Noddy watches him leave, without a glance back. Jacob and Rubin share a smile. They go over to open the cage, to drag out the BADS girls. The FPs help.

Nottie, A. H. Chantal, ah. Beth, no. Jacob has Noddy. He hands her over to Lucian. Jacob, here, father. This one's for you, Henry O.S, no. Henry, faced back to them.

Henry, silen teed, Jacob. That one's yours now. Beat. Noddy can't comprehend those words. She collapses by Jacob's feet. Destroyed. Jacob, smiles, well, that's very kind of you, my lord. Henry turns away again,

For good. Jacob, Silenteed, to F.PS, boys. Help me with this one, would you? She's a fighter. Two FPs take Noddy away in the direction of Jacob's cabin. Noddy, screams, and no. No. Ruben drags Chantal towards his cabin as two FPs bring Beth to Lucians. Both scream as they're brought away. Ingrid approaches Ty, tied to the pole. She leans over and kisses his cheek. Ingrid, good night, my love. She leaves to her cabin, leaving Ty, to stare into nothing. Henry now stands by the pit.

He stares up at the icon towering over him, at the face. Entranced by it. Lucian comes behind Henry. He stares at the back of him. Embraces Henry once more. Lucian, good night, my son. Sleep well. Lucian now leaves Henry for his cabin.

Henry, now alone. Remains fixated on the face. Screams continue to be heard behind him. We don't know if he's listening, if still entranced, or just completely insane. As thunder is heard from the distance. Fade out. Int slash Exte. Dark void, no time. Fade in.

I couldn't have felt more of lonely desolation somehow, Had I been robbed of a belief or had missed my destiny in life, Joseph Conrad, Fade 2, Ext Fort, Night, rain now falls upon the camp. The distant thunder is now closer. Tai. Alone. Remains against the pole. Soaked wet.

The flickering torches highlight him as he sleeps amongst the mud. The sound of footsteps now approach. Tai wakes to raise his head at the coming footsteps. He blinks the rain from his eyes to see, Angela. She stands over him. Barely clothed, covered in red paint the rain washes away to reveal tribal markings all over her body, and forehead. Ty stares at the knife revealed in Angela's hand. She comes closer with it.

Before, Angela cuts loose the rope around Ty's neck. Cuts free his hands. Ty looks at them to see the tight marks. now free he brings his eyes up again to angela as she backs away she throws down the knife next to tie before she runs away through the mud back into the darkness tie with us again he stares in the direction angela fled before turns his attention to the knife beside him he grabs it int ingrid's cabin continues ingrid sleeps peacefully in her bed as the rain and enclosing thunder continues outside. The door opens to reveal an orange light. Ty enters. The sound of

his footsteps as he approaches. Ingrid, now awake, turns over to see Ty over the bed. Ingrid, my love. She reacts as if this is a dream. Ingrid, so entie my love, come to me. Tai moves sensuously on top of her. She gently caresses his face, as he runs fingers through her long blonde locks. He moves down to her pale swan-like neck. Feels collar bones protrude out. Then, Ingrid, Sontid A-H, Thunder strikes. Tie wraps his hands around Ingrid's neck. Squeezes tightly. Ingrid struggles desperately. She scrapes Tye's arms and face with her nails. Her legs kick onto the bed. Thunder ruptures again. Unable to even cry out for help, as the life slowly drains from her body.

Her arms fall limp to each side of the bed. Ty stares at Ingrid's now peaceful image, before delicately presents her on the bed. Interlocks her fingers. She now resembles a sleeping beauty. Tai quietly returns to the door. Closes it on the way out. He leaves Ingrid in the thundering darkness, as a white flashing light reveals her lifeless body. Int

Jacob's cabin, moments later, another white flash reveals Nottie in the darkness. Hands tied to the bed next to a sleeping Jacob. She appears lifeless, yet wide awake. The door gives way to the orange light. Let's in the rain and thunder. Noddy turns her head round to the approaching footsteps. She sees Ty, torch in one hand and a bloodied knife in the other. Ty gestures for Noddy to be quiet as a glimpse of hope resurfaces on Nottie's face.

Ty leans the torch down against a small wooden table, next to Jacob's sword. Ty puts the knife down and takes it. Removes the sword from the sheath. Jacob stirs at the sound of blade grazing leather. He now wakes to the orange light, as a white flash of thunder reveals Ty over him. Sword in hand. Jacob, you find. walking an eye, Jacob instinctively reaches out for the chikot on the floor, before Ty cuts his hand

clean off. Jacob, so enteed ah. Ah, Ty covers Jacob's mouth before his screams can bring attention. T.Y. Shut up. Jacob tries to gouge Ty's eyes with one hand. Ty reaches for the chiquot. grabs it. Raps it around Jacob's neck and drags him to the floor to strangle him. from behind. Jacob claws at him with one arm. His face turns red. Kicking his legs, Jacob knocks the torch over on the floor which now faintly catches fire. Nadi sees this and tries desperately to pull herself free. Jacob now turns purple. Tye sees the catching fire and throws him off. Ty goes to Nottie. Noddy, quickly. Tilly cuts Nottie's hands free, and pulls her up from the bed. T.Y.E. Come on. Let's go. They rush to the door to leave,

when, Jacob, Gasps. Jacob. Not dead yet. He tries to pull himself up. Noddy, strength back inside her now. She returns over to Jacob. T.Y. Seon teed Nottie. Jacob goes for his sword on the floor, but Noddy gets there first. Jacob coweres into the corner of the cabin. Nottie now towers over him. T.Y. E. Sientied Nadi, we need to go. The flames have now spread up the walls. Jacob, gasps, do it, you little bitch.

Nottie raises the sword, pauses. She can't bring herself to do it. Ty comes from behind to take the sword from Nottie. Jacob, Sontid, wait. Wait, without his sword. hesitation, Ty plunges the sword into Jacob's stomach, until nothing's left but handle. Jacob, so enteed, groans. Jacob looks down at his own blade inside him.

Holds it with one hand as he coughs up blood. T.Y. to Nottie, come on. Ty and Nottie move quickly and carefully back to the door as flames consume the cabin around them. They leave, discard Jacob to his fate. He pulls out the blade with his remains. remaining hand. Exte Fort, continuous. Now outside, Tai leads Nottie through the rain behind the burning cabin as F.P voices come closer. Nottie, stop. They stop. Nottie, so indeed we need to get Beth and Chon. T.Y. There ain't time. Come on. Noddy Tie, no, Tye, listen.

Listen. Ty grabs Nottie's face. Makes her focus on what he says. T.Y.E. Seon Tid we can't save them. If they catch us now, just imagine what they'll. Jacob, O.S.A. Jacob screams from inside the cabin, now fully ablaze, as more voices spring from the huts. T.Y.E. Come on.

They go again. Now at, the camp entrance. Ty removes the wood blocking the gates. Opens them. Ready to go. Nottie, wait. Wait. T.Y.E. Noddy. There's no time. Noddy. What about Henry? T.Y.E. There is no Henry.

Come on. We need to go. Tai pulls Nottie through the gates. Past the skeletons. Slowly they disappear. Together. Into the gaping mouth of the jungle's darkness. E.X.T. Fort, Continuous. Back inside the fort. Rubin runs out from his cabin to meet the FPs outside Jacobs. Ruben, Subtitles, in French, What Is It?

What Has Happened, Jacob O.S. Ah. Rubin's horrified by Jacob's last dying screams, as Lucian now hurries outside. Lucian, Subtitles, in French, what has happened. Ruben, Subtitles, in French, Jacob is inside. Lucian sees the flames consume Jacob's cabin. Lucian, where is Henry? Lightning strikes. A white bolt comes straight down upon Henry's cabin. Sets it ablaze. Lucian, silenteeth Henry. Lucian races over to Henry's cabin. Before, lightning strikes again. Lucian falls to the ground. He stares as his own cabin is also now ablaze.

He gets back up to continue to Henry's. Ruben panics over to Ingrid's. Ruben, Subtitles, in French, Ingrid. Ingrid Come out of the cab, he's too late. Lightning strikes both his and Ingrid's cabins simultaneously. Blasts Ruben off his feet. All five cabins are now fully consumed as the flames rise over

the entire camp. A look of horror on Ruben's face as he can do nothing but watch. FPs bring buckets of water to throw over the fire, it's no use. We now see, Henry. He spectates from the shadows. Away from the surrounding chaos. He displays no visible emotion. Lucien O.S. Henry. Henry where are you? Moments later, Henry now stands on top the wall over the end. entrance. Expressionless. The continuing chaos ensues down below. A blazing inferno behind him.

Henry stares out at the unseen jungle ahead, into the immense, surrounding darkness. Fade out. To be continued. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. leave behind. Exte jungle, continuous. Moses and Henry exhaustedly continue the escape. Glide around trees and duck under branches. Henry struggles to stay with him. They now come to a stop. Catch whatever breath they can back. Henry falls to the floor. Moses, exhausted, holy shit.

Ro, man. Fuck. Henry, exhausted, What? What now? Moses, we get out of here, that's what. Henry, no. No, you don't understand. We can't leave. Moses. I just, gotta keep moving. Henry, Moses. What about the others? Noddy end, Moses, man, fuck the others. There ain't nothing we can do. breathes. I just left my best friend for dead. So, you do what you want. I got nothing to do with you anyway. Henry, Moses. We have to stick together. Moses, no, we don't. They'll be looking for you. You can lead them away. Moses starts to walk off. Henry, no. You don't fucking understand. We can't leave this place. Moses. There's no escape. Beat. Moses stops. Turns back to Henry. Moses, what the hell you're talking about? Henry, breath back, what happened to the way you came in? When those men made you and the others go through that fence, Moses recollects. Moses, it.

Moses, well, how do you know we can't get out? now looks extremely nauseous. They both do. Moses, so, that's it. We're just trapped in circles. Nah, nah, I ain't believing that shit. That's messed up. Henry, that's messed up. Moses, we just saw a fucking mammoth. In a fucking jungle. Why is this so hard for you to get? Moses, because I can't accept that I'm stuck here, all right? them. With my friends getting raped and killed. Henry, wait, what? What did you say? Moses, what? You telling me you didn't see shit. What that psycho white woman did to tie? What they did to the others? Henry, no. Wait. What did they do? What did they do to naughty? Moses, sympathetic,

you really didn't know. Oh, you dumb motherfucker. Henry, no. Fucking tell me. What did they do to her? Moses. Knows he just opened a can of worms. Henry, Silentee tell me.

Moses, man. What do you think they did? Henry. Hit right in his core. Leans forward. Can't breathe. He now begins to cry, basically dry heaves. Moses, so-and-tee dude.

Come on, we ain't got time for this shit. They're going to catch us. Come on. Henry, cries, oh God. Moses grabs Henry by the shirt. Pulls him forward. Henry walks, in a state of shock. Moses right behind.

He looks at Henry, for the first time, with compassion. E.xt. Jungle, later. Henry and Moses now move at a speedy pace, as far away from Jacob and the others as possible. Moses stops. Moses, so entee this is bullshit. Why we walking if we know we can't escape? Henry, what else are we supposed to do? Find Angela. Moses, you know what? I really hope we do, because that girl knows how to handle herself. Henry, that's if the other tribe haven't gotten to her first. Moses, What other tribe?

Beat. Henry gives Moses a few seconds. Henry, there's this tribe, out here somewhere. Long story short, they're cannibals. Moses, fuck. Henry, well, that's what Jacob told me. Beat. Moses, so, not only can we never escape this jungle,

but now we have to deal with racist colonial slavers and cannibal tribesmen. It's like cowboys and in. Indians in here. Frose arms up, what? Anything else I need to know? Henry scans around the jungle, to think of potential threats. Henry, booby traps. That's how they caught me, Ty and Angela, and whatever.

Jerome stepped in. Beat. Moses looks to the treetops. Moses, did y'all not check the top? Henry, what? Moses, the top the tree. Did y'all not think to check up there? See if you could spot a way out or whatever.

Henry's silence implies they didn't. Moses, so indeed then, what we waiting for? Come on. Moses approaches a large tree, and just like that, starts climbing. Henry, what? You want us to climb up there? Moses, you got any better ideas? You said yourself, we ain't safe down here.

At least up there we can see where we are, look for a way out. Come on. Henry watches as Moses climbs the tree with ease. Skeptical to join him. Moses, C-O-N-T dude. You coming or not? Henry, okay. Hold on. I just.

I'm not good with these sorts of heights. Henry approaches the tree. Extee, tree, moments later. now high up in the tree. Moses climbs with no fear. Henry, however, has a clear case of vertigo, can't stop looking down, sees there a long way up. Henry, so indeed, um.

How much more is there to climb? Moses, I dunno. Half. Beat. Henry, Moses? I don't think I can climb anymore. Moses, whatever. Just stay there.

I'm good. Henry, a right. Cheers. Moses, to himself, pussy. Henry steps carefully onto a large, steady branch. Sits down with his back against the tree. Now far more relaxed, he begins to breathe better. Extee, tree, dusk, Henry remains on the branch, barely able to keep his eyes open. Beat. He becomes alert, as movements heard from the shape. shaking branches above. It's Moses. Having returned, he climbs down. Sits opposite Henry on the same branch. He doesn't say a word. Beat. Moses, silenete I couldn't find shit. Henry, a way out. Moses, the top the tree. It just keeps going and going. That thought dazes Henry. Henry, shit. Beat. just say it, man. Just say it. We're fucked. Henry doesn't want to, but, Henry, yeah. Yeah, we are. Both men now look defeated, and surprisingly calm. Henry, so indeed thank you for killing that man, by the way. I just, couldn't do it. Even when he threatened to hurt naughty. Moses, I don't want to talk about that. Henry, are right.

Beat, well, thanks then for not killing me when you had the chance. Touch his neck cut, I actually thought you were going to do it in all. Beat. Moses, I wanted to. Henry looks to Moses. Henry, huh. Moses, the thought of killing you, it, excited me. And when I killed that guy, I just felt so, powerful.

Shamefully, it was like a drug or something. Henry's astounded by this. Moses, so indeed I was just doing what I had to, you know. What I had to do to survive, to get away, and look where that got me. By the way Henry looks at Moses, we can't tell if he judges or feels sorry for him. Henry, that's why I couldn't kill him, that man. I was that excited by the thought of taking his life that, it completely scared me out of it. Moses turns up at Henry, with relief.

Henry, Silentee-Mate, that's not us that thinks that way. It's the jungle, the circle, I mean. It must bring out our worst impulses or something. Why else would we get turned on by something like that? Moses, shakes head, nah, man. Beat, I think it brings out who we truly are, on the inside. Like when you're high or, intoxicated. This theory worries Henry.

Moses, Silenteed, I'm sorry, by the way. For just being a dick. I get it, man, you just wanted to be with your girl. I get it. Henry, well, I'm sorry I ruined your black utopia. Moses, yeah. Some black utopia, huh? Both men find amusement in this, as if finally on the same page.

Moses, Silenete get some rest, man. I'll keep for a little. first watch. Henry, nah. That's a right. I feel like staying up anyway. Moses nods to Henry. Moses, cool. Moses moves to a more secure part of the tree, to sleep. Henry rests his head back. Sighs. Stares out at the growing darkness ahead, into nothing. Fade out. int slash ext dark void no time fade in the mind of man is capable of anything because everything is in it all the past as well as the future joseph conrad fade to ext tree slash jungle night pitch black barely able to make out henry and moses asleep an orange light now exposes them from down below

Moses slowly wakes to notice it, oh shit. A light. He goes over to Henry. Moses, silen teed, whispers, Henry. No answer, Henry. Still no answer. Moses kicks him. Henry, ugh.

Awake, what. Moses, look down. Henry looks, sees a moving line of orange light. Henry, whispers, oh, Oh shit. Who is it? Moses, I dunno. Henry, well, what do we do? Moses, I dunno. Just stay the fuck quiet. Both men fall silent. Stay extremely still, as if visible from this high up. The orange light slowly evaporates, moving away. Henry and Moses breathe once again. Henry, sighs, thank God. Beat. Movements now heard around them. Creaking of branches underweight. Something's in the tree with them.

Henry and Moses share a look of tension. Moses, it's probably a monkey or something. Then, a purring growl. Heard right above Moses' head. Henry and Moses stiffen. Eyes locked. A look of terror on Henry's face as his eyes wander up, before. Henry, ah.

Moses, oh shit. Henry's snatched off the branch by something. Henry, help. It drags him down the tree by his shirt. Moses, Henry. Something else takes Moses, drags him down also. Moses, silenita shit. Henry collides against numerous branches, scrapes his body all over, Y-E-L-L-L-S in pain and fear. The same happens to Moses. Now at the bottom. bottom. Whatever had Henry now lets him fall to the ground, face first, thud. Henry squirms. Another growl. Henry reacts, crawls back against the roots of the tree. Cornered in. Now heard is the other commotion. Moses falls down too, in front of Henry. The four feet of whatever brought Moses down leap to the forest floor, spots on its hind legs. Henry pulls

Moses back against the tree, as growlings heard once again, from more than one beast. The orange light returns, to reveal under-flamed torches, the force public. They watch on it what's happening, as, from the beast's POV, Henry and Moses, visible from the torches, fear and terror stretched on their faces. Growls continue. Both men now turn their heads away. Eyes shut. Believe this to be the end, as two leopards now arch over them. They snarl with razor teeth. Inches away from their faces. The leopards back off. Henry and Moses slowly open their eyes to see why they haven't perished, as other noises are now heard OS. The leopard sound to be in great agony.

Growns. Sound of bones cracking. Predatorial growls slowly become more and more primate. The sounds now give way to reveal, Jacob and Rubin. They rise from the ground. Naked. Gasp heavily. The F.P.S. torches expose their gleaming white skin. Henry and Moses stare up to them, amazed, do not believe their eyes. Jacob, ain't you in a world of hurt now, boy. E.T. Jungle, Day. Jacob and Ruben march with the FPs around Henry and Moses. hands tied, pulled forward by rope. Moses looks terrified, knows he's in a world of trouble. Jacob, so indeed, to Henry, if only you knew how special you really are, boy,

you wouldn't be running off into the jungle with an asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, and being a gigantic pain in my ass. Well, Lucien's had his patience with you, we all have. When we get back, you're going to find out exactly who you are, if you dare. am like it or not. To Moses, as for you, big boy. Grads his hair, we've got something really special planned for you when we get back. Ain't that right, Rubin? Rubin, I cannot wait. Later, they now pass the dead mammoth, only it no longer has tusks, or much of anything. Basically a fleshy skeleton. Henry stares, haunted by it as they go past. ExtT. Fort, later, the retreat

Turning party and their two captures now enter through the fort's gates to the inside. On top of the wall, the severed head of Jerome. Impaled among the others. Exte Fort, Continuos, they now approach the cabins and cages. Nottie, Chantal and Beth C. Henry and Moses with them. Nottie, relieved, oh, thank God. He's okay. By the cabins is Ingrid.

She strides towards them, towards Henry. Ingrid, you brought him back. Oh, praise be. She inspects Henry's state. Caresses the cuts on his cheek, before she slaps him across the face. Ingrid, Silenteed, why would you leave us? You foolish boy. We are your family.

Why abandon U.S.? Ruben, perhaps he does not like us. Jacob, hey, Jacob points with his knife, into Ty's direction. Jacob, silen teed what's this an asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk doing out of his cage. Ingrid goes to Ty. Ingrid, I set him free.

Jacob, and why would you do that, you crazy bitch? Ingrid, all of you have your whores. Free to roam as they please. She moves behind Ty, who appears zombie-like, as she caresses his shoulders. Ingrid, Silenteed why cannot mine? Jacob, because he'll try and escape. Ingrid, he will not. I swear it.

Jacob, oh yeah. You just wait and see till that happens. T.Y. I'll kill them. Beat. All turn to tie. T.Y.E. Silenteed I'll kill either one of them. No questions asked. Henry and Moses share a look of fear.

and understanding. Jacob, oh, really. Jacob squares up to tie, eye to eye with him. Jacob, so indeed, and why is that? Ingrid, because, he wants to be with me. And I do not want him rotting away in that cage with the others. Caresses Ty, I want him to be strong. Beat. Jacob contemplates this. Jacob, all right. You want your own and ask. Astrosk asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, lover, Ingrid. Go ahead. But don't think he's joining the rest of my boys. I ain't going to have him slit our throats when we're all sleeping. To tie, but, if you truly want out of that cage, boy, you're going to have to earn it. T.Y.E. Anything to be with Ingrid. Jacob, well, ain't that sweet.

Because it's right about capital punishment time for your friend over here. Turns to Moses, and you're going to whip his ass to death. Moses. Beyond terrified. Moses, wait, wait, no. Please. Please, no. Noddy overhears all this.

Noddy, no, no, no. Henry, Jacob, Jacob, what? The only reason you're still alive, boy, is because Lucian thinks you're still the chosen. and I ain't too sure no more. Why else you so clueless to who you really are? You're not even a man. Too scared to kill just a an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk. Henry's truly powerless. Jacob, so enteeed, to f.ps, stretch him out. Moses, no. Please. No. Three FPs force Moses to the ground. Face down. Noddy, no, Beth, please don't do this.

Shantal, stop. Jacob, shut em up. An F.p.p bangs his spear against their cage. Jacob, sileneteed all right, now strip him. Moses, stop. The FPs remove Moses uniform, down to nothing but skin. Jacob, here. Jacob passes tie a chick-a-chicot.

He looks at it. in his hands. Jacob, so indeed, when I give the command, you start whipping, don't you dare stop. Ty gets in position. The screams and pleads continue. Henry, Jacob, please. Don't do this. Noddy, no, Beth, stop, Shantal, stop. Jacob, now strike. Ruben, stop. Stop. Wait. Ty halts the strike. Jacob, to Ruben, what? Ruben, the punishment for desertion is the chikot, but he raised his knife to a white superior. Therefore, we take his hands.

Beat. Jacob, you're right. I almost forgot about that. Moses, wait, what? No. No, no. Ruben passes Ty in F.P.'s machete. Moses begs for mercy o.s, as do Henry, naughty, Beth, and Chantal.

Jacob, to F.PS, hold his hands out. Go on, get him out. Moses, no. Please stop. Jacob, to tie, on my orders. Moses, no, naughty, no, Beth, no, Chantal, no. Henry, Jacob, no. Jacob, and strike.

T.Y. E. Strikes, A. H. Moses, ah. Tye swings the machete down towards the ground, cut straight through both Moses' hands. Takes off some of the wrist. Moses, silen teed ah. Ah. Moses howls in pain. Blood quickly fills the ground around him. For FP struggle to hold down his arms and legs. Henry, fucking hell. Noddy, Shantal and Beth scream with horror, alongside Moses. Henry shuts his eyes at it all. Jacob sees this. Jacob, hey. To F.P.S. make the son of a bitch watch. Two FPs hold Henry's body forward. Jacob, Sientid, to tie, here.

Jacob passes Ty the chickup. Jacob, Sillentid, go on now. finish the job. Ty raises the chikot. Moses screams continue alongside the girls. Moses, oh God. Jacob, now strike, Lucian, O.S. Stop. Beat.

Lucian. Now outside his cabin. He comes down to them, as Moses screams continue. Lucian, silenete Henry must do it. Henry, cries, no. No, no, no, I can't. Henry collapses to his knees. Pleads to Lucian and Jacob.

Henry, Silentee, please, no. I can't. Lucian, calmly, Henry. Look at me. Look at me, Henry. Lucian raises Henry up, as if consoling him. Lucian, Silentid, you must do this. You must prove yourself to us.

Even Lord Christ had to prove his virtue to those not worthy of knowing. Henry, please. Lucian, rages, Henry look at me. Lucian's tone changed just like that. Lucian, still enteed, you will do this, otherwise, you lose ownership of your women. Allowing any man here to do with her as they please. Noddy heard, mortified. Henry, you evil fucking twats.

Lucian, to Rubin, bring her out. Henry, no. No. Rubin stops, as Henry pulls away from Lucian. Wipes away his tears as he tries to regain himself. He goes over to Ty. Beat. Henry holds out his arm, reluctantly signals for the chick-out. Ty looks to Lucian. Lucian, give it to him. Tie hands Henry the chick-a-tichot. He now goes over to Moses, whose screams have turned to silent shock. Moses tries his best to stay conscious. Breates in his own blood that circles around him. He now tries to pray with the stumps of his arms. Moses, stutters, God forgive those who trace pass against us.

Lucian, to Henry, on my order, you shall strike his back. Henry looks down to Moses. Naked and shivering. Sweat gleams off his skin. Henry has the chick-out in position, as he waits for Lucian's order. Beat. Then, Lucian, Silenteed strike. Moses, ah.

Henry strikes the first blow. Moses Y-E-L-P-S back to life. Lucian, again. Henry pauses. Lucian, Silen-Tied again. Moses, ah. Henry strikes Moses again. met by the sound of flesh opening up.

Lucian, again. A third strike. Moses, ah. Lucian, again. A fourth. Moses, ah. And a fifth. A sixth.

And a seventh. Henry's completely lost it. He lashes Moses repetitively, even catches himself. Insanity now present in Henry's eyes. Moses, Silentida. The lashing continues. The blood from Moses' back now splatters upon Henry's dirt-wrenched face. Nottie, Beth and Chantal watch on, powerless to stop this. Nottie, Henry stop. Beth, no, Chantal, stop. Nottie spectates tragically, at the man she loves become a product of all she hates. Ingrid watches alongside Jacob and Rubin. Even she

he's repulsed by this. However, Jacob and Rubin enjoy every second. Lucian watches expressionless, unable to tell how he feels. Moses. He screams no longer. Face motionless. Eyes stare into nothing. His body jerks as Henry continues to strike OS. Henry stops. Beat. Moses's back, completely ripped apart. Henry, or also motionless. Blood covers him like condensation. The only movement comes from his rapid breaths. Nottie, Chantal and Beth have all curled into balls, cry on the cage floor.

Cover their eyes from the horror. Jacob, my! My! He really did it. Lucien slowly approaches Henry. He takes the chick-out from his hand. Henry doesn't notice, seems no longer with us. us. Lucian, good boy. Lucian now goes over to Jacob. Beat. Lucian, sileneteed we cannot wait any

longer. We must prepare him for the ceremony. Jacob nods to him before Lucian returns towards his cabin. Jacob, to f.ps, take him to his cabin. Two FPs take a zombie-like Henry away. His feet move, but his eyes are unblinking. Moses' lifeless body is dragged away O. Dot S, leaving only a trail of blood. Noddy. Alone. Cries continue from behind her. She looks out from the cage, yet, like Henry, she is also now motionless. Now, stares into nothing. Fade out. To be continued. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle.

only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. Exti, Jungle, Day, we're back amongst the jungle, away from camp. Peaceful The distant sound of bird calls, when out from the trees comes, Angela. She limps painfully on a blood-soaked leg, bandaged in a ripped piece of her shirt. She glistens with sweat. She comes to a stop, gasps crisply. looks around at the identical trees and greenery, clearly has no idea where she's going,

before she limps off again. Exte outside Fort Day, the BADS and other slaves have all been brought outside the fort walls. All connected by rope tied around their necks, making a long chain. In three rows they're made to dig in front of the impaled skeletons. Most of the slaves have wooden spades, while others dig with bare hands. F.P soldiers watch over them, whip those who don't dig fast enough with their chichots, hippohide whip. Henry keeps close eyes on naughty, as he stands beside Jacob from afar. Henry, where's Lucian? Jacob, why? You want to ask him something? Beat, he likes to keep to himself

inside his cabin. He don't like me and Ruben much, you see. Henry, why? Jacob, I ain't sure. Might be because we killed all the Negro kids at his missionary post. But, that was all a hundred years ago, I doubt he still holds a grudge. Henry, so, you're all really a hundred years old, then? Jacob, that's right. Something like that. Henry, but, how's that possible? Jacob looks down to Henry.

Jacob, what? Lucian not tell you about that. Henry shakes no Jacob, so enteeed all right Pay attention picks up stick, draws in dirt This is our camp where we're at now Draws big circle

And this is the circle, which we're all trapped in Once you enter the circle Draws line, you can never escape No matter how hard you try No matter how far back you go the way you came in And now you're here for good Henry looks in complete disbelief, yet, it all makes sense to him now. Jacob, so enteed son.

Don't worry, that ain't such a bad thing. Turns out there's a god here, a very powerful god. You've seen him, right? The idol? The idol in the courtyard? That's him. And he's been here for a very, very long time. And as you can see, time don't exist out here, so we look.

live for as long as we want. We're immortal. If anything, we're the gods. Henry observes around, at the slaves, the skeletons and heads on the wall. Henry, what else is in here? Jacob, what's that? Henry, you said that you weren't the only things out here. What, what other things? Intercut with, Angela, still surrounded by jungle. She again comes to a halt, forced to rest against a tree. She sucks air in desperately, almost on the verge of tears. Jacob, Odaress, you're right. We ain't the only things out here. Angela begins to calm down. When, Angela, ah, an arrow shoots out from the jungle, threw Angela's hand and into the tree. Angela clutches the arrow, tries desperately to pull it out, panics, bends the arrow every way. Back to, Jacob,

A long time ago, there was a small, undiscovered kingdom here, right where we stand now. But then, me, Rubin and our boys came along. Back to, Angela, as she fails to remove the arrow from her hand, blood oozes out. Rustlings then heard around her. She alerts instantly to it. Jacob O.S. So entied whoever we didn't kill, we made slaves, and whoever we didn't make slaves ran deep into the jungle. Her hand remains stuck. Angelo looks around her like a cornered animal, when, red silhouts now reveal themselves from behind the surrounding trees.

Rustling continues. Jacob, O. D.S., so indeed we made a whole lot of enemies here. Whoever survived our wrath, they formed themselves a new tribe, well, that's what we call them, the tribe. The silhouettes seem to come from all directions, even out the treetops. They're like red demons. Jacob, O. Duttus, so enteeed evil sons of bitches. They worship the same God as us, but believe him to be a woman, a mother or something. But, they are far worse than us, believe me.

The things they're capable of, you couldn't imagine. The silhouettes can now be seen more clearly. Too clearly. They're extremely tall. Long legs and arms. bodies painted the color of blood with tribal markings, lines, dots, arrows, all over. Black manis around the shoulders. Their faces hide behind monstrous native masks.

Some masks expose their mouths for ears, reveal ginormous round piercings. Others have extremely long, sharp-looking nails slash claws, while others carry spears and bows. Back to, Henry, frighteningly curious. Why? What do they do? Back to, Angela, now surrounded on all sides, as the red figures begin to move in on her. Angela, no. Stay away. In desperation, Angela snaps off the arrow's end, pulls out her hand. With the arrow piece, she tries to defend herself, lunges at one of the tall, red fiends towering over her, she's too slow. The fiend grabs her by both arms, as the others now move in.

Angela, Silenteed, no. Stop. Get off me. Two more figures now grab a hold of her, as they begin to drag Angela away. Angela, so enteed, ah. No. Angela's legs scraped through the ground. Her screams are still heard as she and them vanish back into the green inferno of the jungle.

Jacob, oh that us every damn thing imaginable, they eat the flesh of man, then they'll make shields out of his skin, and in special ceremonies to what they think is their god, they'll even drink his blood. Cut to, Angela. Now in a different part of the jungle, less green and more wood brown. She sits, stares ahead, unblinking. Motion comes only from her heavy breaths. A long red arm comes in, hand as big as Angela's head, to grasp it firmly, as another hand

holds a blade and begins to slice across Angela's forehead. Makes a long, oozing red line. Angela tries her best not to scream, but, the pain is unbearable. Angela, ah. Back to, Henry, unresponsive, yet, from his reaction, terrified beyond belief. Jacob, still enteeed they have a leader, a sort of pagan, voodoo priest. I met him once. Scary-looking thing, he is.

They call him the Woot. Henry contemplates this name, the Woot, as if familiar to him. Jacob, so indeed it's a good thing we found you before they did, son. It's white flesh they love the most. Beat. Henry looks concertedly back to Jacob. Now with the BADS. They dig up the ground with other slaves, appear to make a ditch.

Chantal has to use her hands. Moses digs, yet keeps his attention on Henry, still talking with Jacob. Beth, cries, but, why would she leave? Why without me? Noddy, it would have been too dangerous, surely. Our cage is right next to where they sleep. Beth, but she was in the military. She was trained for that sort of thing.

Chantal, I can't, I can't dig anymore. Look at my nails. Nottie, Chan, here. Passes her spade, it's okay. We can take turns. Nottie now digs with her hands, a natural. Beat. Chantal, is Henry really one of them now?

Nottie, of course not. He doesn't want to be here any more than we do. Jerome, dude seems to be doing pretty good to me. Noddy looks over to Henry, as Jacob now shows off his sword. T.Y. They didn't want to come here, you know. Nottie, what? T.Y.E. Henry and Angela, they didn't want to come after you guys. Only reason they did was because I made them. Moses, my n asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. Beth continues to cry. Nottie stops digging. Nottie, that's not true. Is it? Tye now holds his eyes on Nottie. T.Y.E. I warned you about the guy. Right? Nottie looks over again to Henry, so distant from

her now. When, a male slave comes right behind Nottie, throws her down on her back. Mumbles in Lingala. Still tied by neck, he pulls those tied to him forward as he now tries choking her, as if his life depends on it. Shantal, Nottie, T.Y. Noddy. Noddy. To slave, get off me. Chantal and Ty try to pull the slave off Nadi, but he's surprisingly strong, scrapes Nadi's arms. An F.P on guard comes in, whips the slave over and over. He carelessly catches Nottie, she screams out, left with a gash right through the back of her shirt.

Henry, hey! Henry races over to confront the FP. Henry, Silenteed what do you think you're fucking doing? pushes the F.p off his feet, who drops the chick-out. Henry picks it up. Stands over the F.P, who just stares up at him. Henry, Silentee touch her again, and I'll fucking kill you. Eyes on Henry, the F.p. secretly reaches for his knife, before. Jacob, O. S. Hey. Jacob storms over to the commotion. Jacob, Silen Teed, what the hell's going on? Why has everybody stopped working?

To F. P.S., get them back to work. To Henry, Henry, what's the trouble? The F.p. that whipped Noddy speaks to Jacob in Lin-Gala, points to the slave that attacked her. J.A.B., Silenteed is that true, son. Did this black piece of vermin attack your woman? Naughty, no, he was just confused. Jacob, shut up. to Henry, son, if it did that, then it's got to have to pay the piper.

You already got the chikot in your hand, go ahead. Use it. To f.ps, bring that here, now. Two FPs unloosen the rope around the slave's neck, they bring him over to Henry. Jacob, Soentied hold him out. They hold him down on his front. Jacob, so enteed, to Henry, go ahead, son. Henry, has the chikot in his hand.

He looks down at the slave, helpless. Jacob, so enteeed what's the matter with you? Do it already. Henry, no. I. Jacob, what? Not good enough. All right, here.

Jacob pulls out his sword. Puts it into Henry's hands. FPs move the slave to his knees, facing Henry. Jacob, so enteed use this. Your first act as one of us, taking this monkey's head clean off. Henry, no. No, please. I can't.

Jacob, what do you mean, you can't? Do you want to be one of us or not? Henry, shouts, I didn't ask to be here. Jacob smacks Henry with the back of his hand, right across the face. Henry falls to the ground. Jacob picks back him up. Jacob, look at me. Look at me, you useless fucking Brit.

Henry comes to tears. Jacob, silenteed you're going to go pick up that sword, you're going to cut off that African's head, then you're going to personally hang it up there on top that wall. Do you understand me? Henry, cries, I can't. I can. Jacob smacks Henry again.

This time draws blood. Jacob, look. Look. I'll even make it easy for you. Jacob now marches over to Nottie. He grabs her by the hair. Nottie, ah. He removes the rope around Nottie's neck and drags her forward. Jacob, I'll give you two choices. You either kill that monkey, or I'll whip your an asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, gastrus, gastrus, gastrus, gasterous, gasterous, women till she ain't breathing no more. So, what's IT going to be? Jacob rips the back of Nottie's shirt, exposes her bear, bleeding back. Henry, no, no. Jacob, pick it up.

Pick it up. Henry picks up the sword. He stands back over the knelt slave, now speaks to himself, as if praying. Cries from the BADS are heard in the background. Jacob, Sillanty, that's IT. Do it. Henry raises the sword with two hands. not even sure how to wield it. Noddy scrunches her eyes away, can't watch. Jacob, so

entee do it. Do it now. Do it, or I'll, Moses, I'll do it. I'll kill him. Let me do it. Jacob's brought to silence. Henry stands, eyes closed, unaware he still holds up the sword. Jacob rages over to Moses, raises the chikot in his hand. Jacob, what you say, an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk, asterisk. Moses, I can do it. I can kill him. It can be my initiation for joining your army. Moses cowers, expects to be whipped.

Jacob stops. Jacob, you want to join my ranks. Moses, look at me, man. I strong. I'm fast. I even killed a guy, once. Jerome, what? Jacob, is that right?

Moses, yeah. Back in Atlanta. Jacob, Atlanta. Are you telling me you're a Georgia boy, an asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. Moses, yeah. My dad's a pastor in Woodacre's view. Jacob, shocked, well. How about that?

A Georgia n asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk. All right, let's see what you can do, boy. You say you can kill this monkey. Well, what are you waiting for? Go right ahead. Here. Jacob removes the rope around Moses' neck, who now goes over to Henry. Moses, give me that damn sword.

Jacob, hey, an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk. asterisk asterisk. Don't you dare think about touching my sword. To f.p. You. Give him that. An f.p. gives over his machete to Moses. He now stands over the slave. Moses, to slave, under breath, he shall wipe away every tear. There shall be no more death, mourning or pain, for the old order of things shall pass. Jacob, hey, an asterisk, asterisk Asterisk asterisk, asterisk. Moses looks back to Jacob. Jacob, so indeed I want you to split him right here.

Points to head, right down the middle. You ain't afraid of brains by you, an asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. Moses, to himself, I ain't afraid of nothing. The slave looks up to Moses, shows no sign of fear, as if already embraced death. Jacob, then do it already. Moses. A deep breath. And then, Moses, ah, he strikes down the slave, right between the eyes, splits his head open. Blood sprays all over Moses' shirt and face.

Henry, Noddy and the other BADS look away. Jacob, Woo! That's what I'm talking about. Boy, I wish I had ten of your kind under my ranks. Just imagine what I could do. Nottie, Chantal and Beth are in tears once again. Henry's on the ground, stares ahead at the slave's gaping head, now more acquired to witnessing death. Jacob, so enteed, to F.P, go fetch him a uniform.

To other F.t.s, get them back to work. An F.P pulls a motionless Moses by the arm, back towards the fort. Henry now looks to Nottie, having curled herself into a fragile ball. He goes over to console her. Henry, NAD, Noddy, don't touch me. Noddy flings Henry's hand away, before slowly makes back over to the Tide B-A-D-S. She puts the rope over her neck, and gets back to work. Henry watches Nottie as she resumes digging, before turns his eyes up to see, Lucian.

He stares down at Henry from top the wall. Henry stares back, furiously, why let this happen? Before Lucian disappears out of sight. Jacob O. dot s that Georgia N. asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk will be painting his face white one of these days. Intercut slash int. Cabin, night, Henry, somehow finds sleep. Torches from outside the cabin make him somewhat visible.

Intercut with, a burning native hut in the jungle. Flames wrap fiercely around it. Back to, Henry, now winces with every breath. Back to, the jungle. Intense fire now burns in B.K, as another native woman is dragged away, this time by 2F.P soldiers. She screams out in horror. Henry stirs at this sequence.

Sweat now visible on his face. Intercut with, Henry now dreams of a native village. Huts burn all around. More women are dragged off by FPs, screams and children's cries heard. Directing this horror is Jacob. Beside him, a line of FPs, rifles out. Jacob, so entee fire. The FPs fired directly at a group of villagers, men, women, children, gunned down.

Now, the aftermath. Silence all around. Huts burned to a crisp. Severed hands of the same villagers are thrown into large baskets. The native villagers now lay dead outside their charcoal huts. Shot down slash hacked to death. Every one of them missing hands. Int.

Henry's cabin, morning, bang, bang, bang. Henry wakes in his typical fashion, to hear a gathering outside. On the other side of the door, he sees the feet of an FP knocks again. Exte, Fort, Continuous, Henry steps outside his cabin to meet the FP. He looks down past him to see Jacob, surrounded by his men. All waiting for Henry. Jacob, Soentied, sees Henry, son. Good, you're up.

It's time we showed you how we hunt these forests. You ever hunt anything in your precious England? Exte, jungle, later, Henry, Jacob and the F dot Pee. which now consists of Moses, and also Jerome. They all walk among the trees of the jungle. FPs ahead, all armed with spears, bows and arrows. Henry, to Jacob, what is it your hunting? Jacob, well, that depends.

Henry, on what? Jacob, on what are God's offering on the menu today? Could be antelope. Could just be monkey, or it could be a whole lot bigger. Henry scans around at the seemingly uninhabited surroundings. Henry, concerned, how much bigger? F.p hashtag 3.0.S. To Jacob, boss.

Boss. Jacob, to Henry, son, come on. Jacob heads up front where he's being called. Henry reluctantly follows. Now up front. FPs move aside for Jacob and Henry to see, footprints. Gynormous and round. Jacob kneels down to inspect.

Jacob, so enteed well, I'll be damned. To F.P.S., it's been a while, ain't it? Henry stares at the footprints. Now realizes what they're hunting. Moments later, all quiet as Jacob's hunting party move carefully through low-lying bush. The FPs in stalking mode. Beat. The FPs now come to a halt.

Signal to Jacob. Jacob, silen teed, grabs Henry, whispers, there. You see it? Jacob points ahead. Henry tries intriguingly to see what it is, able to make out movement among the trees, accompanied by snapping of branches. Henry, whispers, what is it? Jacob, just keep looking. Henry looks. Finally makes it out. It's huge, and gray. gives the signal for the FPs to move on. Jacob, Silentee you're about to see something truly extraordinary here, son. The F.P.S., now tiny specks among the jungle, moving ever closer to the behemoth thing in the distance. Jacob and Henry watch on silently in anticipation.

Beat. Then, the sound of faint yells from the FPs, followed by loud agonizing groans from the gray beast, almost heard for miles. The FPs follow the groans and what Henry sees as a continuous line of moving trees. Jacob, so enteed, runs, come on. Henry follows Jacob. Now closer to the action. F.P yells continue.

Arrows are shot alongside the stabbing of flesh. The beast's groans now more shrill and heartbreaking. Henry halts, as he watches on as the beast now falls silent. Cheers from FPs now take up the scene. Henry's P.O.V, the cheering FPs now hold up their spears in triumph, on top of a giant dead animal. On its side. Covered in blood and arrows. On further inspection, this beast has a trunk, large white tusks, and patches of brown fur upon rough grayish skin. It's a mammoth. Henry, holy shit.

Jacob, I know. It's a beauty, ain't it? Never seen a beast this big before. To F.P.S. Good job, boys. Now get to work. You know the drill. F.P's now start to hack off the mammoth's tusks with machetes, getting stuck and pulled out with a struggle. Other FPs cut holes into the mammoth's tough skin, blood leaks out to be collected in buckets.

Others hack off chunks of meat. Moses and Jerome. in awe of the mammoth, try to join in. Ruben O. S. Jacob. Everyone turns to the sound of Ruben's voice, as he pushes through bush and branch with 4F.PS. Jacob, Rubin? What the hell are you doing here? You got the chink.

Ruben, shakes, no, I lost the tracks. The jungle must have changed course. Beat. Jacob, well. She's their problem now. I hope they like the taste of chink. Ruben approaches. His attention instantly on the mammoth. Ruben, pleased, what is this? Jacob, it's a beauty, ain't it? When's the last time we hunted one of these? Moses, get back. All of you. Just get back. Jerome, get back. Moses, out of nowhere, grabs Henry.

holds a knife to his throat as Jerome guards them with a spear. Jacob, what the hell do you an asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, think you're doing. Moses, stay back. I swear to God, I'll cut his throat. He's your golden boy, right? Jacob, listen to me you fucking and I, Moses, no. You listen, N asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk.

You're all going to drop your weapons or I'm going to bleed this bitch out. And I ain't playing. Mimics Jacob, so, what's it going to be? Henry, in pain, a.H. Moses digs the knife deeper into Henry's neck, draws blood. Jacob, all right. All right. If that's how you wanted, an asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk.

To others, all of you. Put down your bows and spears. Go on now. Beat. The FPs and Rubin reluctantly put down their weapons. Moses, right, now all of you. Turn your asses around. Beat.

Nobody moves. Jerome, so enteeed what? You didn't hear the man. Turn your asses around. Jacob, they'll only obey me, you stupid and asterisk asterisk. asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk to others all right you heard m turn around all of you everyone turns around reuben you do not touch him n asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk moses shut up to everyone now all of you on your knees do it jerome do it jacob just do what the n asterisk

asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk say everyone goes on their knees moses a right now that's how i like it to jerome ain't that how you like it rome jerome yeah it is jacob you won't like it when i make you eat your own fucking entrails an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk moses shut up silence now takes over Everyone remains still, eyes meet. Henry, at the mercy of Moses' knife, has no idea what's going to happen next, genuinely fearful for his life. Then, Moses, so indeed Rome now. Moses and Jerome run for their life. Henry sees them go, instinctively joins after them, without thinking, now the time to escape. Jacob, turns around, after them.

Every F.P rises quickly to their feet, pick up weapons and follow in the three's direction. Moses, Jerome and Henry, they leg IT as fast as possible. Moses, to Jerome, just run. Don't look back. Moses and Jerome are now well ahead of Henry, lags behind. FPs seem faintly in the background, on Henry's heels. Moses and Jerome now leave Henry to the wind, when. Jerome falls, bitch. Jerome's foot falls straight into a small bamboo-like trap.

Wooden spikes pierce through. Jerome, Silentida. Jesus Christ. Moses stops. Turns back to Jerome. Moses, Rome. Moses now has a decision to make, to stay or run. He sees the FPs right behind Henry. He makes the decision. Moses, so indeed I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry. Jerome M.O. Moses, runs, I'm sorry. Henry now races past Jerome. Slows down and looks back to him, yet also chooses to continue. Jerome, cries, H. Jerome's foot. Two spikes have gone straight through, one into the ankle. looks excruciating. Jerome, Sillanty Jesus helped me. To be continued.

Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. Exte Fort, Continuous. Now inside the fort walls. Henry, Ty and Angela peer around at multiple thatched huts, resemble termite mountains. resemble termite mounds. The ground has been dug up for pathways, connect to each hut. There are also more F.P soldiers, they stare at the new arrivals, especially Henry.

The trio now see four wooden cages. The insides crammed full with Condolees men, women, and children. The children clenched the wooden bars like encaged animals. A short white man rampages out from one of the huts. He wears similar clothes to Jacob, as he holds a Congolese woman by the neck. He throws her onto the floor. She cries out as 2F.p drag her away. The short man sees Jacob.

Ruben, Subtitles, in French, Belgian accent, Jacob. How was the hunting? Jacob, why don't you look for yourself? What do you see here? The short man, Ruben, notices Henry. He appears in awe of him. Ruben, in French, oh my God. In English, is this him?

Jacob, it has to be, don't it? Just look at the eyes. Ruben studies Henry's face closely. Jacob, so indeed where is the old-timer, anyway. Moments later, everyone now moves further inwards, past the huts. In the fort center are, five wooden cabins. all decorated in ivory cleaner and better made than the huts doors thatched roofs the middle cabin is twice as big as the others beat henry turns his head to something the sight of it stops him in his tracks a tall wooden idol the idol displays an elongated body with a thin neck for the idol's head is the exact same primitive face from the dead tree in fact this is the dead

tree. Now carved into an idle. The roots can still be seen at the bottom. Henry stares at the idle face, seemingly entranced. Noddy, O.S. Henry. Henry, broken from the trance, looks around for the familiar voice. Chantal, Henry. Guys, Moses, guys, Jerome, guys, over here, Beth, Angie. Henry, Ty, and Angela now turn to the voices. to see, three more wooden cages. Again, full of Congolese. And in the middle cage, are all five BADS members. Henry, Noddy. Angela, Beth. T.Y. Guys. Henry starts towards the middle cage, before two FPs quickly tackle him to the ground, hold him face down in the dirt. Noddy, Henry. Henry, H. Noddy.

to two FPs, hey, watch it. Do you know who this is? Bring him up. The FPs bring Henry back to his feet. Jacob, so enteed what's up, boy? Where you running to? Henry, my friends are in there. Jacob looks over to see the BADS in the cages. Jacob, you're friends with those N asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk in there. Beat, I'm starting to think you ain't who I think you are, boy, and if you ain't. Pulls out knife, I'll personally dispose of you myself. Woman, O.S. Jacob. Everyone turns to the far-off cabin. From its entrance stands a woman, Ingrid.

Blonde hair. Tall. She wears a white, late Victorian-like dress. She comes over to them. Ingrid, Silenteed, Swedish, accent, who is this young man? Jacob, you know, I ain't too sure. Who do you think this is? Ingrid slowly approaches Henry. She stops in front of him, to caress his cheekbones with her fingertips and study his blue eyes. Ingrid, it is him. I know it is. Jacob, well, we can't

know that until we bring him to Lucian. Where is he? In his cabin. Jacob dragged, Henry away to the middle cabin. Ingrid, by herself, catches Ty's eye. Jacob, Silenteed, to F.P, put those two with the rest of them. Ingrid's eyes stay seductively on Ty, as he and Angela are brought to the cages. Ty looks back helplessly to her. Now at the middle cabin. Two Congolese women sit outside the door. Jacob, Silentied hey an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk in french where is lucian one women points inside the cabin says something in lingala jacob so entee'd hey lucian get out here i got something for you henry waits anxiously for lucian's revelation as do jacob

reuben and ingrid movements now heard from inside the cabin the door opens footsteps heard on deck, as Henry sees the man now stood ahead of him, Lucian. An old man. Late 50s. A long dark gray beard. White clothing. A bulk of an individual. He stares down from the deck at Henry, without much expression.

Lucian, French accent, lieutenant. Will you not explain to me who this is? Jacob, Father Lucian. This is Henry To Henry This is Father Lucian To Lucian, we found Henry and his friends this morning, got themselves stuck in a hole

Lucian, and where are his friends? Jacob, in the cages Just some an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk and a C. asterisk asterisk asterisk Lucian now moves down to Henry. Beat Henry observes Lucian's appearance, his godly beard, his weathered skin, and his deep blue eyes. Lucian, in French, are you French?

Like me? Henry's clueless. Jacob, laughs, hate to break it to you, father, but Henry hears an Englishman. Lucian, from his face, is both surprised and disappointed. Lucian, you are English. Henry nods. Lucian, silen teed, That was perhaps to be expected.

Regardless, we shall soon find out who you are. Henry looks back to Jacob, for any sign whatsoever to what's happening. Lucian, Silentee would you do me the honor of joining me in my cabin, where we can talk more privately. Henry says nothing, before timidly walks away from Jacob to follow Lucian inside. Intercut slash int. Cabin, continuous. Henry enters.

Lucian is over by a wooden table. Lucian, Silentee, please. Won't you join me? Henry goes over hesitantly. Sits down. Lucian, pours, would you like some refreshment? Cautious, but parched, Henry takes a cup of water from Lucian and drinks the whole thing. Henry, wipes mouth, thank you.

Beat. Lucian, I must apologize for the surge of flies in my can. But you should soon become accustomed to them. Beat. Henry remains silent. Lucien, so indeed so, tell me. What brought you to this ungodly side of the world, from godly England? Henry, looks around cabin, I, um, I dunno.

Beat, a holiday. Lucian notices Henry's ripped, dirty clothing. Lucian, I see you wear similar clothing to the American. clothing to the American and asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk we found some days ago. Do you know them? Henry nods. Henry, they're my friends. Lucian, intrigued, contemplates this. Lucian, yes. The Black American. Descended from slaves, and alas, slaves once more. Henry becomes concerned by this, slaves. Lucian, silenied what was the year of our Lord before you chose to venture into this place. Henry, 2020. Lucian, in French, pardon.

Henry, it's 2020. Lucian gasps at this. Lucian, subtitles, in French, to self, the year 2020. So, it has truly been a century. Beat. Henry, are you a priest? Lucian, what makes you think that I am a priest? Henry, the man, with the mustache. He kept calling you Father, Father Lucian. Lucian thinks carefully about his answer. Lucian, in French, yes. In English, I was a priest.

Henry, afraid to ask, but what would? What would God say? The dead bodies? The people in the cages. What would God say to that? Lucian, I believe he welcomes it. When one life is destroyed, another is created. Henry, but, what about?

Thou shall not kill. Lucian, for a brief moment, appears unsettled, before finds amusement. Lucian, I believe we speak of different gods. You talk of the Christian God, whom I once vowed to serve. But he is no loner, my lord. My lord is here. In the circle. We are his worshippers.

His followers. And in return for our service and offerings, he gives us eternal life. Eternal divinity over the Africans. Henry's clueless, unable to process this. Henry, what other God? Allah? Lucian gestures, no. He now points outside the cabin.

Lucian, look out there. Tell me what you see. Henry goes over to the window shutters. He opens them slightly, peeks out. Lucien, Silentee, do you see the idol of the court? Henry sees the idol, F. P's walk by it. Lucian, Silen T, that is our God. We pray and worship him, as one would pray and worship the cross.

There are many names for him. Lieutenant Jacob's men call him, Tor, the god that births animals for the hunt, and, Nicole, the all-powerful. I believe the slaves simply call him, the god of death and blood. Henry quivers at that last name. Lucian, Silenteed and he has brought you here, to us. To live among your own. Henry turns from the window, back to Lucian.

Henry, what? Beat. Lucian, it was predestined. Henry, but... I don't even know you people. I've never even been to this country, before. I've never. Intercut with, flashback, Henry, in his apartment. Henry, Silenteed, on phone, in other words. I'm African. Noddy, now in her apartment. Noddy, did her

results say anything else? Back to, present, Henry, things for him now add up. Henry, I want to leave, please. I won't, I won't tell anybody about this place. Lucian, concerned, my son. You cannot leave this place, even if I permitted it. Lucian lets that stay with Henry. Lucian, silen teed, but, do not worry, my son. It shall all be revealed to you. Lucian stands, goes round to Henry, puts a hand on his shoulder.

Lucian, silen teed in time. Points up, he shall reveal himself to you. He shall reveal you to yourself, as he has done with me. Lucien now moves to the doorway. Lucien, Silenteed in the meantime, you are free to wander the camp, as long as you do not try to escape. We have built you your very own cabin, and you are free to enjoy any women here to your pleasing. As Lucian gestures to show Henry out, Henry, my girlfriend's here. Lucian stops, stares blankly at Henry. Henry, she's in one of those cages. Can she? Look, if you let her out, I guarantee I won't try and

escape. Beat. Lucian ponderes Henry's request. Lucian, which one? Exte, outside cabin, continuous. Henry rushes from Lucian's cabin, past Jacob and Rubin, they watch Henry with intrigue. As Henry approaches the middle cage, he hears strange noises from the outer cabin. like a women's whale. At the middle cage, an F.p guards the BADS inside. Noddy sees Henry approach, rises to her feet, as do the others. Noddy, Henry. BADS, Henry.

Hey, Henry. What the hell's going on? The F.p bangs the cage with his spear, tells them to get back. Henry backs off, before goes straight up to Nottie. Henry, my God. Noddy. Noddy, hen. Henry kisses her passionately through the wooden bars.

Henry, holds her face, thank God. Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Noddy. Noddy, almost in tears, afraid to answer. Moses, hey. What's going on? Why the hell they keeping us in here?

Beth, yeah. What's going on? Henry's now the one afraid to answer. Notice as Angela sat down, disengaged with everything. Jerome, bro. Tell us. Noddy, Henry, please. Tell us anything.

Henry gives himself time to answer. Henry, they, um, Moses, what? Beat. Henry, they said that you're slaves. The B-A-D-S are rattled. Moses goes weak in the legs. Chantal, overwhelmed, oh my God. Beth, what?

Jerome, those motherfuckas. Noddy, Henry. What do you mean we're slaves? What does that mean? Jerome, what do you think that means? Chains. Shackles. Back whipping.

The whole fucking shabang. Moses, is that why your white ass ain't in here? You over-privileged motherfucker. Beat. Henry, naughty. That doesn't have to happen with you, okay? You can be out here with me, they said you could. You'll be safe.

I can protect you. Moses, you motherfucker. Jerome, that's how you gonna do us. Jacob, O. That's son. Jacob and Ruben come over to the commotion. Jacob, so entee you don't let those fuck. and asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk talk to you that way to f dot p get em back the f dot p jabs them back with his spear henry no no this one her she's a loud out lucian said so henry points to naughty jacob sarcastic is that so

Henry, yeah. She's my. Paws is, she's my concubine. Nottie's shocked by Henry's words. Concubine. Jacob, really? This one. Jacob takes a better look at Nottie. Jacob, so enteed well, how about that? She is a beauty, ain't she? To f.p, all right. Open the gate. Let this one out, will you? The F.p opens the gate. Nottie, no. Henry's taken back by Nottie's defiance, even Jacob stays put. Nottie, sillenteed I'm staying in here.

Henry, Nottie, it's okay. You'll be safe out. Noddy, I don't care. I'm staying here with my family, and I'm not going to be anyone's concubine. Henry stares at Nottie, pleads her. Jacob, boo-wee. How about that? This n asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk S got a pair of big ones on her.

Believe me, I should know. To f.p, all right, let's shut her up. The f.p closes the cage. Jacob, so enteeed Henry. I think it's time we show you to your hotel suite. How that sound. Jacob pulls Henry away with him, as Henry turns back to naughty. Henry, Noddy, Noddy, I'm sorry.

Noddy watches as Henry's escorted away. They keep their eyes on each other. Moses, you see. All of you, you see. I told you that motherfucker should never have come. And look at him now. We're locked up in here, no better than slaves and he's out there with his own fucking kind. Nottie peers out the cage, motionless.

naughty it's not his fault moses not his fault naughty wake up your boyfriend's a fucking racist just look at him naughty devastation takes over her moses so enteed o dot us all close and personal with m it makes me sick the door to the outer cabin bursts open two fps drag tie out shirt ripped They bring and throw him back into the cage with the others. Jerome, Ty. Are you all right, man? Shantal, Tai. It's okay.

We're here for you. Tai's silent, motionless, like Nottie. Ingrid comes out from the outer cabin. She adjusts her dress, appears satisfied. Moses, that evil bitch. Nottie's attention is now on Ty, tears. in her eyes. She grabs his hand, gives tie a hint of a smile, as if to say, it's okay. Fade to, in-slash-E-T, dark void, no time. Fade in, we live as we dream, alone. While the dream

disappears, the life continues painfully, Joseph Conrad, fade to, E-T, jungle, day. In the dimly lit jungle, a native woman walks, carrying a baby in her arms. The woman cries out hysterically, In Lin Gala, she appears to talk to someone, maybe her god, or maybe just herself. Her child looks sickly pale, as it joins in the crying. Rustlings now heard around them. The woman stops. Her eyes red from tears. She scopes around in circles, paranoid.

She tries quieting her baby, which makes an excruciating noise, giving up their whereabouts. the rustling continues beat the woman then turns to a man grabs her wraps his arms around her waist she screams out in fear two more men come out from the trees to help control her all three men wear long white robes and turbans on their heads their faces covered up where only their eyes are seen one of them rips the baby from the mother's arms She screams out for it, while the other two drag her away into the jungle. Cut to, int. Henry's cabin, day, Ruben, O.S. Henry. Henry wakes.

Startled, to see Rubin above him. Ruben, so entee get up. Jacob wants to see you. E.X.T. Fort, continuous. Henry follows Rubin on the pathway towards the huts, where waits Jacob, FPs around him. They all turn to Henry as he approaches. Henry stops, waits for Jacob to speak. Jacob, did you happen to hear any commotion last night, son?

Everyone eyes Henry, as if interrogating him. Henry, no, no, I. I didn't. I didn't hear anything. Jacob stares intensely at Henry, suspicious even. Jacob, well, ain't that a shame. Jacob and the FPs move aside, to reveal two F.P soldiers laid in a pool of blood. Henry becomes woozy from the sight of this.

Jacob, silenteed these two were supposed to be on watch last night. We found them this way this morning. This one's been stabbed to death with his own damn knife, and this one's had his brains bashed in. Useless fucking monkeys. Beat. Henry, who, who. Jacob, who did this? Well, we ain't exactly the only things out here, son.

And you might a thought we were bad. Two FP start to drag away one of the dead ones, when, f.p. Hashtag one, uh. A long, agonizing groan comes out of the dead f.p, not dead yet. Jacob, so entee damn it. The son of a bitch is still breathing. To his men, get him up. The two FPs sit F.p. H.T.1. Upwards. He's barely even conscious. Jacob, so enteeed, look at me. Look at me. Who did this? Who did this? Was it them?

Did they do this? No reply. F.p. hashtag one instead look straight ahead, at Henry. Lock's eyes with him. Jacob, so enteeed hey. Jacob grabs F.P hashtag 1's head, makes him stay on him. Jacob, so entee'd look at me, you fucking monkey. I will carve out your skull and use it to drink your own blood if you don't tell me who did this. F.p. hashtag 2, into scene, Lieutenant. Lieutenant. Jacob turns to F.p. hashtag 2.

Jacob, what? F.p. hashtag 2, subtitles, in Linuton. Gala, a slave has escaped. The white woman. She has gone. Jacob, white woman. What in God's name are you talking about? E.T. Fort, middle cage, moments later, at the BADS cage. Jacob, so enteed, stomps cage, get up. Get up. Where is she? Where's the C. asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. Beth, cries, we don't know. Moses, we do know, man. Two of your guys took her last night, and they never brought her back.

Jacob now puts the pieces together. Back to, the pathway, where f.p. hashtag 1 is now carried away towards a hut. Jacob, to f.ps, hey, you bring him over here now. The two FPs do just that, at Jacob's feet. Jacob, so entee put him down. Jacob, a hand on his sword handle, removes the blade from the sheath, sharp and curved. With one strike, Jacob lobs off the head of f.p hashtag 1. It rolls around on the floor.

Henry, having witnessed this, tries his best not to throw up, from the shock of it. Jacob, so enteed, to f.p, put it up with the others, would you? to Ruben, Ruben You better go find that see asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk. To be continued. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. Int slash Ext Black Void, No Time, Fade in.

We couldn't understand because we were too far, and could not remember because we were Travelling in the night of First Ages, those ages that had gone, leaving hardly a sign, and no memories, Joseph Conrad, fade to, Ext, jungle, day, Henry. Eyes closed. He lies unconscious on the ground. Beat. Something shakes him, as sound now returns into Henry's ears. Angela, O.S. Henry. Still out.

Shook again. Angela, silenete Henry. Henry's eyes open. He looks up to see Angela and knelt above him. Tai stood not far behind. Angela, Silenteed come on. Get up. Henry, dazed, what happened?

Did I faint? T.Y. Yeah. You did. Beat. Henry regains himself, as if from a long sleep. Angela, can you remember why? Henry, um. The heat?

Angela, do you remember where we are? Henry, looks around, we're in Africa. Congo. Beat. Angela, two minutes ago, we crossed over the other side of that fence. You remember that? We had to go through thick bush to get in, and Ty moaned like a bitch all because he scraped himself. Is it coming back to you?

Beat. Ty rubs his scraped arm. Henry, afraid, we're on the other side. Of the fence? T.Y. E. Oh, yeah. So where's the fence at? Where's the bush we just came from? Henry takes a good look around.

Notes how much darker this side is, yet no sign of the bush or fence anywhere. Henry, it's not here. Tyrone, yeah. No shit. Henry, well, where is it then? Henry looks to Angela for confirmation. Angela, yeah. It's true.

Doesn't make any sense, but it's true. Henry again scans around, sees their right. Right bang in the middle of the jungle. Henry, in denial, bullshit. You must have moved me. Angela, Henry, it's the truth. We're not lying to you. Henry, no.

This ain't. fucking right. W-H-Y is it different? T-Y-E, dude, just chill. Henry, no. Wait, ah. Fuck. Holds head, U-G-H. I must be having a trip or something. Beat. T-Y-E, to Angela, great. Now what the fuck do we do? Angela, wait, so you both choose to venture in here, yet you're making me in charge. Ty and Henry look helpless to her. Angela, so entied, sigh, fine. Here's what I think, if the same thing happened with the others, if this exact same scenario happened, then I think they would have gone the way they think they came in. Which is why we need to walk that way. She points in the direction the bush should be. Angela, so indeed either way, will be closer

to the others or closer to the bush. But one thing's for certain, we can't stay here. I mean, seriously, what the fuck? Henry, but, what if they didn't? Angela, what? Henry, what if they chose to carry on instead? You never know, they might have. Angela, why would they?

This is clearly a fucked up place, so why not go back? T.Y.E. Annoyed, guys. We don't have time for this. Aright. So, what is it? That way or that way? All look to each other, undecided. E.X.T. Jungle, later that day, in a different part of the jungle.

Identical trees all around. Henry, Ty, and Angela move among them, momentarily vanish and reappear behind the trunks. Henry, calls out, naughty. T.Y.E. calls out. Noddy. Moses. Rome. Henry, Noddy. Angela, to Henry, Thai, hey, guys. Angela comes back to them, having gone on by herself. Henry, did you find anything? Angela, shakes head, nothing. No tracks, human or animal. It's like this jungle's never even been

walked in before. It just. It doesn't make sense. T.Y.E. And what happened to us before, did. Henry, no, she's right. Listen. Beat.

All listen. Hear nothing. Henry, still indeed there's no birds or anything. On the other side, that's all you could hear. T.Y.E. insects too. Henry, yeah, that's right. Bloody mosquitoes were killing me on the other side, but here, there's nothing. Angela, so, what we're saying is, this side of the jungle's completely uninhabited.

Why the fuck would that be? Henry, and why throw Noddy and them lot in here? Why not us too? T. Why, what? That's not obvious to you. Henry, what? Beat. Ties dumbfounded by Henry.

He walks on, leaves. Henry Clueless. Henry, so enteeed what? Ext Jungle, Night. All three now sit around a made campfire. Stare into the flames. Exhausted. Silent. Henry studies the fire closely. Determination still present in his eyes. Ext. Jungle, Day. The search continues. There may be no animals, but the humidity is still clearly felt. Henry struggles, lags behind Ty and Angela. Henry then collapses, down against the trunk of a tree. Fatigues conquered him. Ty and Angela stop. Angela, Henry, come on. We have to keep moving. Henry, I. I can't, seriously, I. Henry removes the straps from his backpack, declares he's staying put.

Henry, silen teed, I just need five minutes or I'll die. T.Y.E. You're fucking unbelievable. You know that, right? You're the reason we're in this mess. So, why don't you take some fucking responsibility for it and get your ass up? Henry, Ty. Seriously. Just fuck off.

Angela, guys, we don't have time for this. T.Y.E. to Henry. Nah, nah, you listen. Listen. I'm sick of guys like you, who won't follow shit through. Oh, naughty. We need to get naughty. Yet when shit gets too tough, you'll just back out. Henry, well, I'm not the one who wanted to run back to Kinshasa, am I?

T.Y. Hey. I was just doing what I thought was best for naughty. Henry, best for naughty. There it is again, naughty this, naughty that. naughty that. What's this obsession you have with her? I mean, seriously. Angela, guys. T.Y. What? She didn't tell you. It comes out. By Angela's look, she knows what Ty refers to. Henry, what the fuck did you just say? Angela, Ty, shut up and walk. To both, we are not doing this now.

T.Y. E. You know what? Just fuck it. Tai walks away. Henry, hey. Henry gets up, after Ty. Henry, silentee tell me what? What hasn't she told me? Beat.

No reply. Tai walks on, amused. Henry, hey. I'm talking to you, dickhead. Henry aggressively shoves the back of Ty, who stops. Turns around to Henry. T.Y. Dude. You do not want to get physical with me. Henry, but that's not what you said to Nottie, though, is it?

Tai, now visibly angry. Angela, guys. Seriously. Henry, so indeed at least now I know why you've been giving me a hard time, you and the other two. Just can't stand to see a white guy dating a black girl, can you? Tai squares up to Henry. T.Y.E. What the fuck do you know about? us. You don't know shit what we've been through. Henry well, I know one thing that's for certain, once you go white, all the rest are shite. Bam! Ty tackles Henry to the ground, with a hard thud. On top of him. Throws punches. Henry, Silentee come on, then. Angela, guys. Henry and Ty grapple on the ground. Henry gets on top. Tie gouges his

fingertips into Henry's eyes, blinds him. Tie back on top. T.Y.E. you motherfucker. Tie transitions into a headlock. Henry struggles, becomes red in the face, until, Angela rips tie away from Henry, who now struggles to regain breath. Angela puts Ty in a back arm lock as she throws him against a tree. Tie, Siontee A-H.

Get the fuck off me. Angela, shut up. I told you, we weren't doing this. I'm not here to measure your dicks. If you two assholes can't be level-headed together then I'm just going to leave you here. Understand. To Henry, Henry, understand. Angela looks back to Henry, on the ground.

He sucks Aaron desperately, before his attention turns to the dead leaves around him. Angela, so enteeed, let's tie go, Henry. Henry doesn't hear. He pushes against the surface beneath him. T.Y. E. holds arm to Henry, dude, what the fuck's wrong with you? Henry begins to brush away the dead leaves with his hands, as Ty and Angela come back to him, watch over. Henry sweeps away the final dead leaves to reveal a red, rust-eaten sign over a metal fence. Now a part of the jungle floor. It reads, danger. Restor deor. Henry, read sign, danger. Angela, read sign, restor door. Henry slowly turns up his head to Angela. Their eyes meet. Beat. Angela, so enteed, keep out. Exte, jungle, morning, tie in

Angela, asleep next to an extinct fire. Henry is still awake, stares through the rising smoke. A sound is heard. Faint, but Henry picks up on it. He looks around to see where it comes from, as it slowly rises in pitch. Henry, what the fuck? Henry moves over to Angela. Wakes her. Henry, silen teed, low voice, Angela. Angela, wake the fuck up. Angela, awake, what is it? Henry, there's a sound coming from somewhere. Angela listens. She hears it, now alert. Angela, where's it coming from? Henry, I dunno. Beat. Angela, okay. Wake up, Ty. Henry kicks Ty awake.

T.Y. E. Ah, what? Henry, get up. There's a sound from somewhere. Tai listens. The sound far more audible, like the agonizing groans of several people. T.Y.E. What the hell is that? All three now on their feet. Angela, it's coming from that direction. The groans, now increasingly louder, as if piercing right through them. Angela, silenteed come on. Let's get out of here. The three move away from the sound, leave their packs. Moving backwards, right into, a swarm of native people.

coming towards them. Out from the trees and bushes, almost from nowhere. Dozens of them. Men, women, children and elderly. Thin to the bone, malnourished and barely clothed. Growns exodus from their gaped mouths. Henry, oh shit, Angela, fuck. Thai, Jesus Christ.

They amble towards Henry, Ty and Angela, arms stretched out to grab them, zombie-like. The three run in the other direction, only to find they're now completely surrounded on all sides. Henry, sileneteed fuck. The swarm continued to move in. They grab them. Claw at their faces and clothing. Henry, Ty and Angela try to break free, but too overwhelmed. Mass moans continue.

Henry, being pulled this way and that. Shirt ripped. He peers round at the undead faces, to realize, they're begging, women raise their crying babies, plead for them to be taken. Henry notices several of the men have no hands, instead, reach out with half-arms. All three are no longer visible, swallowed whole by the hands and arms. When, bang, bang, bang, bang. Angela, somehow able to crawl to her backpack, fires away at the people around.

round, kills several. Rest move away, to reveal Henry and Ty. Angela goes to them. Angela, come on. This way. Henry and Ty follow close on Angela's heels, as she fires her remaining rounds, throws the empty handgun as a last resort. They continue to move through the swarm, brush hands and stumped arms along the way. Angela, so indeed come on. Now free from their grasps, Angela, Ty and Henry retreat into the jungle. The swarm left to watch them leave, some walk after them, some not realize they've gone. Exte, jungle, continues, still on the run. T.Y. What the fuck was that? Angela, I don't know. Henry, did you see? Some of them were missing. Henry slash Angela slash Thai. Ah. All three fall through the ground.

Tye almost avoids it, but is overbalanced as the floor shatters beneath them. Leaves and branches break their long fall. Henry, Sontid A-H. Fuck. My arm. T-Y-E, fuck. Beat. They're now the ones who moan.

Angela, are you guys all right? Henry, ah, yeah. T-Y-E, I guess so. Looks around, where the fuck are we now? Angela looks up. She sees there in a very wide and deep hole. Angela, shit. We've fallen into a trap.

Henry, a trap. What sort of trap? Angela, I don't know. An animal trap. T.Y. looks around hole. What were they hoping to catch? An elephant? Beat.

The three stir painfully. T.Y. Sealenteed at least now we know why this place was fenced off. Fucking zombies, man. Angela, they weren't zombies. But, I think it's a contagion of some kind. Henry, well, if you knew they weren't zombies, then why did you mo half them fucking down? Angela, they were attacking us.

Henry, what with? Their babies? Beat. T.Y. Great. What the hell are we supposed to do now? Angela, I don't know, but we can't be in here for more than three days. Not without water.

T.Y.E. laughs, that's great. That's just great. Go into the jungle to save your friends. End up dying in a fucking hole in the ground somewhere. Beat. Then, groans, they return gradually, from above. They shrieked down into the hole. T.Y.E.

Sientied, to Henry. Hey Oliver. Good news. Your friends are back. The groans again become increasingly louder. T.Y.E. Silenteed, over moans, to Henry, you want to ask them to throw down a piece of rope or something. Extee, whole slash jungle, night. The moaning's far louder now, right above them. Henry, Ty and Angela go crazy over it, cover their ears. The three can barley be seen in the dark. Beat. There is now an orange light, drains down into the hole. All three look up to notice as the light flickers upon their faces. It seems to be fire, like people carrying torches. T.Y.E. So enteed, oh my God. There's people up there. To people, hello. Henry, hello,

Angela, hello, Thai, hello. Bear yells stir the moans above them. Angela, can anyone hear us? There's no reply. Moans continue. Then, another sound is heard, deep, purring. Quickly transitions into a loud and aggressive roar. The moans now give way for Y-E-L-L-S of pain and immense screaming. Followed by the tearing of flesh.

The flickering eyes of the trio become wide. Hands clutched over their mouths as the sound of the onslaught completely takes over. Henry, Angela, and Ty huddle together, beyond terrified. Fade out, ink slash Exte, dark void, no time. Fade in. They were conquerors, and for that you want only brute force, nothing to boast of, when you have it, since your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others, Joseph Conrad. Fade two, Exte, hole, mourning. All three are now asleep against the side of the hole. Beat. of rope drops down from above. Henry wakes to notice it. He wakes Ty and Angela. Henry, guys.

Guys. Look. Tie and Angela see the rope, instantly alert. T.Y. Thank God. I thought we were gonna die down here. Ty crawls to the rope. Angela, wait. We don't know who's up there. Eat. Ty stops. Henry, to outside hole, hello. Angela, Henry, shut up. Beat. Man, oh, that's, yeah.

A voice. All three look to each other. T.Y. to man, who's that? Man, O.D.S, it's all right. I'm an American. Tye, to Angela, Henry, an American. Henry and Ty leap quickly to fight over the rope.

Angela, wait. You guys. I don't think we should go up there. T.Y.E. Why not? Do you really want to die down here? Henry starts to climb. Beat. T.Y. Seen Tid dude, come on.

Hurry up. Henry uses all his strength, still aches from the fall. Angela watches worrisomely, not sure. about this. Henry's now nearly out the hole, as two sets of dark arms grab and pull him back onto the surface. Henry, exhausted, thank God. Henry flattens on the ground. Beat. He rolls over so to observe his saviors. Henry sees, a white man. The man towers above Henry. Mid-40s. Thick mustache. He wears a cream-white colored set of colonial-white. clothing. A sword and scabbard around his waist. Man, southern U.S. accent, well, well, well.

What do we have here? Henry's taken back by the man's appearance. He now sees behind the man, ten men. All black. In dark blue clothing. Barefoot. They hold spears as if they were rifles. Their faces are expressionless. One face is painted white. Ty and Angela now join Henry on the surface. Two of the men in blue help them out. Man, Silentied, oh look. And the man has himself some company. Ain't that nice. Tie and Angela are now taken back. Clearly expected something else. Man, Silentied, to Ty, so, what do we have here? A half an asterisk asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk thing. And to Angela, what are you supposed to be?

Some kind of C. asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. Angela, excuse me, man, to his men, get M. The men in blue grab tie and Angela. T.Y.E. struggles. Hey. Get off me. Others come in to hold spears to their bodies, keep them still. The white man turns his attention back on Henry. man my it's been a while since i've seen a new white face around here let's take a look at you the man comes in close to inspect henry who backs away the men in blue hold their spears out to stop henry from retreating man so indeed hey hey hey hey it's all right son all i want is a better look is all the man now holds henry's head still inspects his face closely.

Henry's deeply uncomfortable. Man, so enteeed well. You definitely have the old man's eyes. Hard to make out an exact resemblance. Tie and Angela, spears on them, look on. Confused as to what's happening. Man, so enteed where you from, boy. Beat.

No answer. Henry stares blankly at him. The man then comes close again. Man, silen teed, intimidating, I said, where you from? Beat. Henry, London. Man, London, huh? Thinks, hmm.

That might just work. The man turns Henry round to his men. Man, so indeed boys. I think we found him. This just might be the one. The men in blue now reveal expression. slightly in awe. Henry, the one. The one what? Who? Who are you people? Man, oh, that's right. I must apologize, I ain't even introduced myself. My name's Lieutenant Jacob Lewis.

Former 6th Georgia Infantry Regiment. Former French Foreign Legionary of the Algerian Provisional Regiment, and current lieutenant of the force public. T.Y.E. Concerned. the force what? A force public soldier jabs his spear into Ty's ribs. Ty, Silentee A-H. Ty falls hurt to the ground. Jacob, to Henry, and who might you be, son? Beat. Henry appears afraid to give his name.

Jacob, Silenteed well, whatever your name is, y'all better along come with us. Get some food into you. How's that sound? Moments later, they all know. now move away from the hole. Henry walks by Jacob up front. Ty and Angela in middle. Force public around them. They now pass a body, of one of the natives. They see it's been utterly torn apart. Blood and ribcage visible, the aftermath of the night before. Ty, oh, fuck. Angela, turns away, Jesus. Henry stares at the corpse, has clearly never seen a dead body.

before. Jacob, yeah. There are some dangerous beasts around these parts. Exte, jungle, later, Henry, Ty and Angela, exhausted, been walking a while. Jacob and the force public, F.P, have barely made a sweat. Jacob, so enteed, to Henry, he's been waiting a long time for you, you know. Henry, Jacob, our leader, Lucian. Stubborn old son of a bitch. But seeing you might just make his day. That is if you are who I think you are. Henry, who do you think I am?

Jacob, oh, I can't tell you that, but don't worry, you're bound to be him. We don't get many whites through this jungle. In fact, you're the first one to come through here in a hundred years, and I don't think Lucian can wait a hundred more. Sinister, so, you better pray your hymn. Henry displays a mixture of confusion, but also fear, as they continue through the jungle. Exte, Jungle, Day, Henry, Ty, Angela, Jacob and his FPs now follow on a pathway. Ty's eyes squint at something up ahead. T.Y.E. What is that?

Up ahead, a large brown structure. Noise is heard coming from it. Henry, Ty, and Angela try to make out what it is. The sound is now closer, as the party continue forward on the pathway, where the structure is revealed to be, a fort. Jacob, welcome to your new home, the three of you. The fort consists of high wooden walls, made of tall logs. On top the walls are thin, wooden spikes. Angela now begins to notice the details.

Angela, oh my God. As does Ty. Tie, oh shit. Ty and Angela try to flee in the direction they came. The F.p grab hold of them. T.Y.E. Seen Teethed, terrified, N.O. No. What the fuck?

On the spikes, every single one of them displays a severed head, impaled on top. Horrifying, distorted faces, as if their last emotion was excruciating pain. More F.P soldiers' guard on top the walls. Now in front of the walls, on both sides of the fort entrance, are far more spikes. Only this time, it's a mass impalement of skeletons. Dozens of them. Scured on long, sharp pieces of wood, protrude out the ribcage, breastplate, neck, jaw, and skulls of the victims. Flies hover everywhere. The buzzing is maddening. Henry, fucking hell. Henry two tries to get away, before Jacob grabs him. Jacob, son, it's all right. It's all right. Those heads don't bite from up there.

Even closer to the fort now. Henry, Ty and Angela forced forward. Henry tries to avoid his eyes, but can't resist. He stares at the tortured heads above the entrance. Beneath them, the F.P guards look down upon him, as the party now enter through the entrance gateway. Angela, this is the heart of darkness. This is the actual heart of darkness.

To be continued. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. Exte, Jungle, later that day, Moses now leads the way, map in hand, as the group now walk in uncertainty. Each direction appears the same. Surrounded by nothing but spaced out trees. Moses, silent eat hold up. Stop. Moses listens for something. Beth, what is it? Moses, shut up. Just listen. All fall quite to listen, to birds singing in the trees.

Falling droplets from the again dormant rain. And something off in the distance, a sort of swooshing sound. Moses, Silentee, can you hear that? T.Y. Yeah. What is that? Moses listens again. Moses, that's a stream. I think we're here. Guys, this is the spot. Noddy, underwhelmed, what? This is it. Moses, of course this is it. Look at this place. It's a jungle paradise. Beth, Relieved, A. H. Shuntal, thank God. Jerome, I need a lie down. Everyone collapses, throw their backpacks off, except Angela, watches everyone fall around her. Moses, wait. Wait. Just hold on. Moses listens for the stream once more. Moses, still indeed it's this way. Come on. What are you waiting for?

Moses races after the distant swooshing sound. The entire group moan as they follow reluctantly. Exte stream, moments later, the group arrived to meet Moses, already at the stream. Moses, Silenteed this is a freshwater source. Look how clear this shit is. Points, look. Look. Everyone follows Moses' finger to see, silhouettes of several fish.

Moses, Sileneteed we can even spear fish. Henry, is it safe? safe to swim. Moses, what sort of questions that? Of course it's safe to swim. Henry, a right, then. Henry, drenched in sweat, like others, throws himself into the stream. Splash. Moses, hey, man. You scaring away all or fish. The others jump in after him, even Jerome and Ty. They cool off in the cold water. A splash fight commend. Everyone now laughing and having fun. In their utopia.

Ext jungle slash camp, night. The group sit around a made campfire, eating marshmallows. Tents in the background behind them. Moses, Silenteed, to group, we got to talk about what we're going to do tomorrow. Just because we're here don't mean we can just sit around. We got work to do. We need to build a sort of defense around camp, a fire. camp, a fence or something.

Angela, why don't you just build and hide traps around the area? Moses, anyone here know how to make traps? No one puts their hand up, except Angela, casually. Moses, silenete anyone know how to make human traps. Angela keeps her hand up. Moses, silen teed, surprised, dude. To group, aright, well, now that's out of the way, we also need to learn how to hunt. We can make spears out of sticks and sharpen the ends. Hell, we can even make bows and

arrows. Chantal, can we not just stick to eating this? Moses scoffs, too happy to even pick on Chantal right now. Beat. Moses, I think right now would be a really good time to pray. Jerome, what, seriously? Moses, yeah, seriously. Guys, come on. He's the reason we're all here. Moses closes his eyes. Hands out. Clears his throat. Moses, Silenteed our father in heaven, hallowed by your name, your kingdom come.

The others try awkwardly to join in. Moses, Silenteed O.S. You will be done, on earth as is in heaven. Beth, Ite. That's it. I'm going to bed. Moses, damn it, Beth. We're in the middle of a prayer.

Beth, hey, I didn't sign up for any of this missionary shit, and if you don't mind, it's been a hard few days and I need to get laid. To Angela, come on, baby. The group all grown at this. Jerome, God damn it, Bethany. Moses, hey. Don't take the Lord's name in vain. Beth leaves to her tent with Angela, who casually salutes the others.

Moses, Sillanty. well, so much for that. Beat. Moses continues to talk. Noddy turns to Henry next to her. Noddy, hey. Henry, in his own world, turns to her. Noddy, so enteed, are tense ready now, isn't it? Henry, why? You fancy going to bed early? Noddy whispers into Henry's ear. She pulls out to look at him seductively. Beat. Nottie, so enteeed, to group, I think we're going go to bed, too. Gets up, night, everyone. Shantal, really?

You're going to leave me here with these three. Nottie, afraid so. Bye. Nottie and Henry leave to their tent. Henry, yeah, we're, really tired. Moses, seriously. We all slept like two hours ago. How much sleep you need?

Nottie, to Henry, probably all I can get. Tye watches as Nottie and Henry leave together, hand in hand. The fire exposes the hurt in his eyes. Int. Tent, night, Henry and Nottie lay asleep together. Barely visible through the dark. Henry's deep under. Sweat shines off his face and body.

He begins to twitch. Intercut with, Jungle, as before. The spiked fence runs through, guarding the bush on other side. Now on the other side, beyond the bush. We see, the wot. Back down against the roots of a ginormous trunk of a tree. Once again perspires sweat and blood. The woot winces.

Raises his head slightly, before, int. Tent, early morning, zip. A circular light shines through on Henry's face. frightens him awake moses rise and shine henry boy henry squints at three figures in the entranceway realizes it's moses jerome and tie all with long sticks naughty turns over u g h what are you all doing it's bright as hell in here jerome we're taking your little playboy here on a fishing trip naughty well zip the door at least Geez. Ext stream, later, all four men are now in the stream. Knee deep. Spread out in a line against the current. Henry, are you sure this is the right way of doing this?

T.Y.E. What other way is there of doing it? Henry, well, it's just we've been here for like five minutes now and I ain't seen no fish. Moses, well, they got to come some time, and when they do, they'll be straight at us. us. Jerome, it's all about patience, man. Beat. Moses, to Jerome, what are you talking about patience? What do you know about fishing? Jerome, I'm just repeating what you said. Moses, right. So don't act like you, Henry, guys. Guys. Look. There, there's one. All look to where Henry points, as a fish makes its way downstream. Moses, to Henry, get it.

Jerome, to Henry, get it. T.Y.E. to Henry, dude. Get it. Henry reacts, before the current can carry the fish away. Lunges at it, almost falls over, the splash of his spear brings the others to silence. Beat. All four now watch as the fish swims away downstream.

The three B-A-V-S, speechless. Moses, how did you miss that? T.Y.E. It was right next to you. Jerome, I coulda got it from here. Henry, oh, fuck off the three of you. Find your own fucking fish. Jerome, to Henry's ankles, man. Watch out.

There's a snake. Henry, what? Oh, fuck. Henry reacts, raises his feet up, before falls into the stream. He swims backwards in a panic to avoid the snake. When, uncontrollable laughter is hurt around. Jerome, laughing, Och, I can't, I can't breathe. Henry's furious.

Throws his spear sideways at Jerome. Confronts him. Henry, what? Do you want to fucking go? Is that it? Moses pulls Jerome, still laughing, away, while Thai blocked. knocks Henry off. Jerome, mockingly, what's good? What's good, bro? Henry, pushes Ty, get the fuck off. Ty then gets right into Henry's face. T.Y.E. pushes back, what? You want to go? It's all about

to kick off before. Angela, OS guys. Everyone stops. They turn, to Angela, on high ground. Beat. Angela, sileneteed not a lot of fish are going to come this way. Moses, yeah. Why's that? Angela slowly raises her spear, reveals three fish on the end. Angela, your sticks are nowhere near sharp enough anyway. Beat. All four look dumbfounded.

Angela, Silenteed come on. There's something you guys need to see. Jerome, what is it? Angela, I don't know. That's why I need to show you. Angela turns away, out of sight. The four follow out the stream to catch her. Exte, Jungle, Later, Henry, Angela, Ty, Moses and Jerome all stood in open space.

Side by side. They stare ahead at something. From their expressions, it must be beyond comprehension. Jerome, what? In the name of. Fuck. From their POV, a long, wooden, crisscrossed spiked fence. Both ends, never-ending.

Exact same fence from Henry's dreams. Only now, it's covered all over in animal skulls, monkey, antelope, etc. Animal intestines hang down from the spikes. The wood stained with blood and intestine juice. Flies hover all around. Their buzzing takes up the scene. Henry, beyond disturbed, he recognizes all this. Ty catches his reaction.

Angela, now you see why I didn't tell you. Beat. Jerome, to Moses, M.O. What is this? Angela, I think it's a sign, telling people to stay away. The other side's probably a hunting ground or something, belonging to a certain group of hunters. T.Y.E., they can't just put up a sign that says that. Beat.

Moses, when we get back. I think it's a good idea we don't tell nobody. Angela, are you kidding? They have to know about this. Moses, no, they don't. Alright? No, they don't. If they find out about this, they'll want to leave.

Jerome, M. I didn't sign for this primitive bullshit. T.Y.E. Guys, Moses, what did you expect, Rome? We're living in the middle of God damn Africa. T.Y.E. Guys. Moses and Jerome turn around with the others. To see, Jerome, oh shit. Five men. Staring back at them, 20 meters out.

Armed with spears, maches, bows and arrows. They're small in stature. Pygmy sighs, yet intimidating. Our group keeps staring. unsure what to do or say, until Moses reaffirms leadership. Moses, um, to pygmies, shouts, greetings. Hello. We were just leaving.

Going away. Away from here. Moses gestures that they're leaving. The group now move away from the fence, and the pygmies. The pygmies now raise their bows at them. Moses, so enteeed wo. Whoa It's a right

We ain't armed Beat, to Angela, give me that Moses takes Angela's fish-covered spear He now slowly approaches the Pygmys Fish held out The Pygmys Bows become tense, take no chances One P-Y-G-M-Y, the leader, approaches Moses Beat

Moses, so enteed, patronizing, Here, we offer this to you. Beat. The pygmy looks up at the fish. Then back to Moses. Pigmy leader, rough English, you? English. Moses, no. American, African American. The pygmy looks around at the others. Sees Henry, reacts as if he's never seen a white man before. Henry and the pygmy's eyes meet. Then, pygmy leader, our fish. You take our fish. Moses looks back nervously to the others. Pygmy leader, silen teed, to others, you and a welcome. Dangerous. Dangerous you hear. The pygmy points his machete towards the fence, and what's beyond it. Pigmy leader, silen teed dangerous.

Go. No come back. Moses, wait, you. want us to leave. This is our home. Our home. Pygmy leader, go. The pygmy raises his machete to Moses' chest. Moses drops the spear, hands up.

Moses, okay, calm, it's a right, we're going. Moses begins back to the others, who leave in the direction they came. The pygmies all yell at them, tell them to, go, in English and Beela, ban to language. The pygmy leader picks up the spear with their fish as our group disappear. They look back a final time at the armed men. E-X-T camp day. All the B-A-D-S stand in a circle around the extinct campfire. Beth, what if it's a secret rebel base?

T.Y.E. Beth, will you shut up? It's probably just a hunting ground. Beth, we don't know that. Okay. It could be anything. It might be a rebel base, or it might be some secret Congo government experiment for all we know. Why are we still here? Noddy, I think Beth's right.

It's too dangerous to be here any longer. Moses, so, what? Y'all just think we should turn back. Beth, damn right, we should turn back. This is some cannibal Holocaust bullshit. Moses, no. We ain't turning back. This is our home.

Chantal, home. M.O., my homes in Boston where my family live. Okay. I don't want to be here no more. Moses, Chan, since when's anyone cared about a damn thing you've had to say? Chantal, seriously? The BADS now argue amongst themselves. Noddy, wait.

Wait. Hold on a minute. Everyone quiets down for Noddy. Noddy, Silenteed why are we arguing? I thought we came here to get away from this sort of thing. We're supposed to be a free speech society, I get that, but we're also meant to be one where everyone's voice is heard and appreciated. Jerome, so, what do you suggest?

Noddy, I suggest we do what the BADS have always done, what we said we would do here. We have an equal vote. is no. That's bullshit. You're all going to vote to leave. Noddy, well, if that's the majority then, the BADS again burst into argument, for sake of it. Henry just stands there, oblivious. Fixated in his own thoughts. Angela, everyone shut the fuck up. All of you. Just shut up. The group falls silent again. First time they hear Angela raise her voice. Angela, so enteeed, none of you were at all prepared for this. No survival training.

No history in the military. No one here knows what the hell they're doing or what they're even saying. What we saw back there, if it was so secretive, those pygmies would have killed us when they had the chance. B, look, what I suggest we do is that we stay here a while longer, away from that place and just keep to ourselves. If trouble does come along, which it probably will, that's when we leave. Besides, they may have arrows.

Angela pulls from her shorts. Angela, still indeed, but I have this. A handgun. She holds it up to the group's shock, whoa. Jerome, Jesus. Beth, baby. Where'd you get that from? Angela, umbandaka.

A few squeezes of this in their direction and they'll turn running. Henry, loud, can I just say something? Beat. Everyone now turns to Henry, stood a little outside the circle. Henry, still and Tied Angela. Out of everyone here, you're clearly the only one who knows what they're talking about. But, please, believe me. We really need to leave this place.

Tiewe, yeah. Why's that? Henry, it's just a feeling, I got when we was at that, that fence. It just, it felt, it felt wrong, Moses, yeah, you know what, maybe you were just never cut out to be here to begin with, to group, and you know what? I think we should stay. We should stay and see what happens. If those natives do decide on threatening us again, then yeah, sure, then we can leave.

If not, then we stay for good. Who knows, maybe we should go to them ourselves so they see we're actually good people. Intercut slash int. Tent, night, Henry, asleep next to Nottie. Heavy rainfall has returned outside the tent. Intercut with, Henry's dream, the fence, with its now bloodied, fly infested spikes. Now, the other side. In its deep interior, again returns, the Woot.

Still against the ginormous trunk. Only this time, he's crucified to it. Raises his head slightly, with the little energy he has. W.O.T. Sinister, Henri. Back to, Henry, eyes closed, as movements now heard outside the tent. The sound now transitions to the sound of cutting. Henry opens his eyes. Cut to black, E.T. Jungle, Morning.

Fade I.N. Light of the open, wet jungle returns, as rain continues from the night. An unknown individual is on their knees, a wet bag over their head. An arm removes the bag to reveal, Henry. Gagged. Hands tied behind his back. He looks around at, the very same pygmy men, stood over him. This time they're painted scarcely in white to contrast their dark skin. They now resemble melting skeletons. The Pilots. Next to Henry are the BADS and Angela. Bags on their heads also. The Pygmies remove them. Also gagged. In front of them, they and Henry see the spiked fence. Bush and jungle on the other side. They all look on in horror. Their eyes widen with the sound of their

muffled moans, can only speculate what's to happen. The Pygmy leader orders his men in Beela. They bring to their feet, Moses, Jerome, Chantal, Beth and Nadi, force them forward with their machetes towards the fence. One pygmy moves Ty, before told by the leader to keep him back. Henry, Angela, and Ty now watch as the pygmies hold the chosen BADS in front of the now-opened fence. All five BADS look to each other, confused and terrified. The leader approaches Moses, who stares down at the small skeleton in front of him.

Pigmy leader, in English, you go. Walk. Points to fence, you walk that way. The pygmies cut them loose. Encourage them towards the fence entrance. All five BADS refuse to go, they plead. Moses, please don't do this. Pygmy leader, walk.

Pygmy number one, walk. Pygmy number two, in Bila, go. The pygmies can. continue their yells, walk forward slash G-O, and Bila equivalent. Aim their bows at the chosen B-A-D-S to make them go onwards. Henry, Angela and Ty can only watch with anxious dread as they try to shout through their gags. Henry, gagged, naughty. As they're forced to go through the fence, Noddy looks back to Henry, a look of help. Henry, Sillenteed, gagged, naughty.

Angela, gagged, Beth. T.Y. E. Gagged, N-O. The gagged calls continue, as all five BADS disappear through the other side. The trees. The bush. Swallows them whole. They can no longer be seen or heard. Beat. The pygmy leader is handed a knife. He goes straight to Henry, who looks up at him. Henry panics out his nostrils. convinced the end is now. Before, Henry's turned around as the leader cuts him loose. Henry, gag off, naughty. Noddy, Pygmy Leader, in Bela, shut up.

Shut up. The leader presses the knife against Henry's throat. Beat. Pigmy leader, Sientid, to three, you leave them now. They gone. You go. Go to America. Go to England.

No come back. Henry, Angela and Ty stare blankly at the Pygmy leader. Startled and confused. Exte, Jungle, Day, Henry, Ty and Angela, now by themselves. They pace behind one another through the rain and jungle. Angela in front. Tye, so, what are we going to do now? Angela, we go back the way we came from. We find the river.

the river. Go downstream back to Kinshasa and find the U.S. Embassy. Henry, stops, no. Angela and Ty stop. Look back to Henry, soaked, ten meters behind. Henry, so enteeed we can't leave them. I can't leave naughty. Not in there. T.Y. What exactly are we supposed to do? Angela, Henry, he's right. The only thing we can do right now is, is get help as soon as possible. The longer we stay here, the more danger they could possibly be in. Henry, if they're in danger, then we need to go after them, on the other side. T.Y. Are you crazy?

We don't know what the hell's in there. Beat. Henry faces Angela. Henry, Angela. Beth's in there. Angela, contemplates, yeah, well, the best thing I could possibly do for her right now. now is go and get help. So, both of you, move it. Now, Angela continues, with tie behind her. Henry, I'm staying. Again, they stop. Henry, see what I used to be an entire continent away

form her, and if I go back now to that river, it's just going to feel like that again. So, you two can do what you want, but I'm going in after her. I'm going to get her back. beat Angela, all right suit yourself with that Angela takes off beat

not tie he stays where he is his eyes now meet with Henry's Angela realizes she's walking alone goes back to them beat Angela so indeed all right so what is it

you both want to go look for them Tye, his mind clearly conflicted. T.Y.E. Even if we go back now to Kinshasa, it'll take us weeks. And we ain't got time on our side. Beat, I hate to say it, but... I'm going to have to stick with Henry. This surprises Henry. Angela thinks long and hard to herself.

Beat. Angela, a plan would be for you two to go and after them while I go down river and get help. Studies them both, but you'll both probably die on your own. Henry and Ty look to each other, await Angela's decision. Beat. Angela, soanteed, size, fuck it. Extee fence, day, rain continues down. At a different part of the fence, Angela hacks through two separate points, two meters apart,

with a machete. Henry and Ty on the lookout, they wait for Angela's, go ahead. Angela finally cuts through the second point. Angela, Sillantied, out of breath, all right. She gives the green light, Henry and Ty, with a handful of long vine, pull the hacked fence piece to the side with a good struggle. All three now peer through the gap they've created, where only darkness is seen past the thick bush on the other side.

Angela, Sill and Teed remember. You guys asked for this. Henry, in the middle of them, turns to Angela. He puts out a hand for her to hold. She hesitates, but eventually obliges. Henry turns to Ty, reluctantly offers the same thing. Ty thinks about this, but obliges also. Now hand in hand, backpacks on, they each take a deep breath,

before all three anxiously go through to the other side. They keep going. until the other side swallows them. All that remains is the space between the fence and the darkness on the other side. Fade out. To be continued. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. Int.

Room, Boston University Campus, Day, Inside a Narrow, White room, a long table stretches from door to end. All six BADS members, except Nottie, are here, sat talking amongst themselves. Moses stands by a whiteboard with a black marker in hand, anxious to start. Moses, all right. Let's get started. We got a lot to cover. Chantal M.O.

Noddy ain't here. Moses, well, we're going to have to start Wittow. the door opens on the far end, it's naughty. Rather embarrassed, scurries down to the group. Beat. Nottie, sorry, I'm late. She sits. Tye saving her a seat between him and Shuntall. Moses, right. That's everyone. All right, so, I just wanted to go over this. To Whiteboard, remembers, oh, we're all signed up with that Lutheran-African missionary program. right? Else how we all gonna get in? Everyone nods. Beth, yeah. We signed up. Moses, Silenteed and were all scheduled for our vaccinations.

Cholera. Yellow fever. Typhoid. Again, all nod. Moses, Silenteed, at Whiteboard, Aright. So, I just wanted to make this a little more clear for y'all. Moses draws a long S shape on the whiteboard, copies from iPhone. Moses, Silentee this, is the Congo River. And this. Points, this is Kinshasa. Congo Capital City. We'll be landing here.

Marks Kinshasa on S. Moses, Silenit from the airport will get a cab ride to the river, meeting the guy with the boat. The guy'll journey us up river, taking no. more than a few days, before stopping temporarily in Mbondaka. Mark's Mbondaka. Moses, Silenete will get food, supplies, before continuing a few more days up river. Getting off. Draws smaller, S on top the bigger S.

Moses, Silenete here, at the Mongala River. We'll then meet up with another guy. He'll guide us on foot through the interior. It'll take a day or two more to get to the point in the rainforest that we'll call home. But once we're there, it's ours. It'll be our utopia. The journey will be long, but y'all need to remember, the only impossible journey is the one you don't even start.

Beat any questions? Jerome, hand up, yeah. You sure we can trust these guys? I mean, this is Africa, right? Moses. Nah, it's cool, man. I checked them out. They seem pretty clean to me. Shantal raises her hand. Moses, yeah. Chantal, what about rebels? I was just checking online, and... On iPhone, it says there's fighting happening all around the rivers.

Moses, to group, guys, relax, a right. I checked out everything. our route should be perfectly safe most of the rebels are in the east of the country anyway but if we do run into trouble our boat guy knows how to go undetected anyone else beat everyone's quiet then noddy her hand raised moses silen teed sighs yeah naughty yes thanks um this is not really related to the topic, but. I was just wondering if, if maybe. Noddy takes a breath. Just going to come out and say it. Nottie, silen teed if maybe Henry could come with us.

Beat. Silence returns. Everyone looks awkwardly at each other, what? Thai, the most in shock. Moses, Henry. Nottie, my boyfriend, in the UK. moses what the white guy naughty my british boyfriend in the uk yeah beat moses pauses at this moses so let me get this straight you're asking if your white british boyfriend can come on an all-black voyage into africa moses is confused yet finds amusement in this moses sientied what is that a joke

Noddy, no. It's just that we were talking a couple of days ago and I happened to mention to him where we were going and, Moses, wait, what? T.Y. You did what? Noddy, it just came up. Jerome, to Moses, but I thought this was all supposed to be a secret. That we weren't going to tell nobody. Nottie, defensive, I had to tell him where we were going. He deserved an explanation. Moses, so, Nadia. Let me get this straight. Not only did you expose our plans to an outsider of the group, but you're now asking for this certain individual, a Caucasian, to come with us. On a voyage, specifically designed for African Americans, to travel back to the homeland of their ancestors, stolen away in chains by the ancestors of this same individual. Is that really what

you're asking me right now? Noddy, since when was this story? trip only for African Americans. Am I American? Moses, naughty. Save your breath. Answers, no. Noddy, but he's, Moses, but he's white. All right? What, you think he's the only cracker who wanted in on this? I turned down three non-black BADS members asking to come. So, why should I make an exception for your boyfriend who ain't even a member? To Group, has anyone here ever even met this guy? Chantal, I met him, kinda. Nottie, sickened, I can't believe this.

I thought this trip was so we can avoid discrimination, not embrace it. Moses, look, Nottie. Before you start going on about, T.Y.E. to Nottie, it's best if it's just. Nottie, everyone shut up. Nottie shrugs tie off as him and Moses fall silent. She's clearly had this effect on them before. Nottie, Silenteed Moses.

I need you to just listen to me for a moment. Okay. Your voice does not always need to be heard. Chantal puts a hand to her own mouth, O H&O, S-H-E didn't. Nottie, Silenteed this group stands for the bloodhood of African descendants and sympathizers. Everyone here going is a descendant, including me.

My parents were Somalian. When Henry asked me if he could come, I initially said, no, because he wasn't one of us. But then he tells me his sister had a DNA test, and as it happens. Henry and his sister are both 6% Congolese. Which means he is a descendant, like everyone here. Moses, wait, what? Chantal, seriously? T.Y. Are you kidding me?

Nottie ignores Tye, look. I have proof, here. Nottie gives Moses her phone, displays Emily's results. Moses stares at it, worrisomely. Beat. Moses, unconvinced, aright. Show me this and asterisk, asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. Noddy looks blankly at him.

Moses, silenita picture, show me. Nottie gets up a selfie of her and Henry Zooms in on Henry for Moses Beat Moses smiles He takes the phone from Nottie to show Jerome and Ty Moses, Silenteed I guess this an asterisk asterisk asterisk asterisk S in the sunken place

Moses and Jerome laugh as does Ty Moses silen teed to Nottie You're telling me this guy is 6% African No dark skin. No dark hair. No. Big dick or nothing. Noddy, if having a big dick qualifies someone ongoing, then only half the people in this room would be. Beth, oh damn. Jerome Hay. Hey. Tye, over noise, he still ain't a member. Ties outburst silences the room. Tye, seal and teed its members only. Moses, right M.O. Moses, right. Members only. Don't matter if he's African or not. Noddy, he can become a member. African descendants and sympathizers, he's both. I mean, the amount of times he's defended me, and all because some drunken idiot chose to make a remark about the color of my skin, or in my choice in headwear. And if you are this petty to not let

him come, then, you can count me out as well. Moses, what? Tyrone, what? Tys turned his body fully towards Nottie. Shantal, well, I ain't going if Nottie's not going. Beth, great. So, I'm the only girl now. Moses, O.S. What do you care?

You threatened out when I said no to you too. The whole room erupts into argument, as Ty stares daggers into Nott. Nottie. Begs for her attention. She ignores him. Int. Hallway, outside room, moments later. Nottie leaves the room as the door shuts behind. She walks off, as a grin slowly dimples her face. She struts triumphantly.

T.Y. Nottie. Nottie, wait. Ty throws the door open to come storming after her. Nottie stops, reluctantly turns. T.Y. E. Seon Teed, I told you, you were the only reason I was going. Beat. Noddy allows them to hold eye contact. Sympathetic for a moment. Naughty, then you weren't going for the right reasons. With that, Noddy turns away. Leaves Ty to watch her go. Intercut slash int.

Air. Night. Now on a flight to Kinshasa, D.R. Congo. Henry's the only white passenger. Deep in sleep. Beat. Intercut with, a jungle, like we saw before. Thick green trees, and a large bush. Beat. No sound.

Back to, Henry. Still asleep. Eyes crunch up, like he's having a bad dream. Then, back to, jungle, the bush now enclosed in a long, sparkly spiked fence. Defends Emerald Darkness on other side. We hear a wailing. Slowly gets louder. Before, back to, Henry wakes.

Gasps. Drenched in sweat. Looks around to see passengers asleep to the faint sound of the plane's engine, peaceful. Henry regains himself. Beat. Henry now removes his seatbelt and moves to the back of plane. Int. Airplane Restor

restroom, continuous. Henry shuts the door. Sound outside disappears. Takes off his mask and looks in the mirror, breathes heavily as he searches his own eyes. Henry, to himself, why are you doing this? Why is it so important to you? Henry crouches over the sink, splashes water on his sweat-drenched face and hair. Beat. His breathing calms down. Tap still runs. as Henry looks up again. Henry, Silenteed, to reflection, this is insane. Fade 2, int slash Exte, Black Void, No Time. Fade in, we penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness, Joseph Conrad.

Fade 2, E.T. Kinshasa Airport, morning, outside the airport terminal. All the BADS sit on top their backpacks, board out their minds. The early morning's sun already makes them sweat. Next to Beth is Angela Jean. Asian American. Short hair. Pretty with a Marines build. Nadi stands ahead of the BADS, searches desperately through the terminal doors.

Moses checks his watch. Moses, Silenteed were going to miss our boat. Nadia? Noddy, he'll be here, all right. His plane's already landed. Jerome, yeah, that was half an hour at. go. Beat. Tye goes over to Nottie. T.Y.E. Maybe he chickened out. Maybe, he decided not to go at last minute. Noddy, frustrated, he's on the plane. He texted me before leaving Heathrow.

Moses, has he texted since. Chantal now goes to Nottie, to console her. Chantal, NAD? What if the guys are right? What if he, Noddy, Wait. At the terminal doors, a large group, all black, enter outside. Nottie searches desperately for a familiar face. The BADS look onwards in anticipation, especially Thai. Nottie, silen teed, softly, please, Henry. Please be here. The group of people now break away in different directions, to reveal by their self, Henry. Oversized backpack on. Searches a around, lost. Nottie's eyes widen at the sight of Henry, wide as her smile. Nottie, sileneteed Henry. Henry looks over to see Nottie running towards him. Henry, oh my God.

Henry, in disbelief, now runs to her also. Angela, to group, so, I'm guessing that's Henry. Jerome, what gave it away? Henry and Nottie, only meters apart. Henry, babes, Noddy, you're here. They collide. Wrap into each other's arms. Become one. As if separated at birth. Nottie, so indeed, you're here.

You're really here. Henry, yeah. I am. They break to kiss each other, repeatedly. Really has been a long time. Nottie, I thought you might have changed your mind, that, you weren't coming. Henry, what? Course I was still coming.

I was just held up at security. Nottie, relieved, thank God. Nottie again wraps her arms around Henry's waist. Beat. Nottie, Silentee'd come and meet the guys. She drags Henry, hand in hand towards the BADS. They all stand up, except Ty, Jerome and Moses. Nottie, Silenteed guys.

This is Henry. Henry, nervous, hi. How you doing? Beat. Shantal, oh my God. Hey. Shantal goes and hugs Henry. He wasn't expecting that. Shantal, so indeed it's so great to finally meet you in person. Noddy, well, you already know Chon. This is Beth and her girlfriend, Angela. Beth, hey. Angel, A wave, hey. Noddy, this is Jerome. Jerome, nods, sup. Noddy, and, um. Hesident, this, this is Thai. T.Y. E. Hey, man. Ty gets up and approaches Henry. T.Y. Seale, it's nice to meet you. He puts a hand out to Henry. They shake. Henry, yeah. Cheers. Noddy surprised at the civility of this first encounter. Noddy, and this here's Moses. Our leader. Jerome, leader. Founder. Henry, to Moses, nice to meet you. Henry holds a hand out to Moses, who just stares at him, like a king on a throne of backpacks. Moses, gets up, to others, come on. We got a boat to catch.

Moses collects his backpack and turns away. The others follow. Beat. Notties infuriated by this show of rudeness. Henry looks to her, was it me? Noddy smiles comfortably to him, before both follow behind the others. Exte, Kinshasa slash river, later. Out of two small, yellow taxi cabs, the group now walked the city's outskirts towards the very wide

ocean-like, Congo River. A ginormous mass of water. Waiting on the banks by a long boat with a spedengen, a condolese man, early 30s, waves them over. Moses, so enteed, to man, yo. You, Fabrice. Fabrice, subtitle, in French, yes. Yes. Are you all ready to go? Moses, yeah. This is everyone. to get going. Ext Congo River, Day, on the moving boat. Moses, Jerome and Ty sit at the back with Fabrice, controls the engine. Beth and Angela at the front. Henry, Nadi and Chantal sat in the middle. The afternoon sun scorches down on them. The group appear to already be in paradise, the river. The towering trees and vegetation. The wildlife. Beautiful.

Henry pears around at it all, overwhelmed, as Nottie rests blissfully on his shoulder. Exte Congo River, later, still on the boat. Henry looks back at Moses, sunglasses on, enjoys the view. Henry, to Nottie, I'll be back, yeah. Noddy, where are you off to? Henry, just to, make some mates. Henry steadily makes his way to the back of the moving boat. Noddy watches concernedly.

Henry stops in front of Moses, seems not to notice him. Henry, so indeed hey. Moses. All right? I was just wondering, when we get there, is there anything you need me to be in charge of or anything? Like, I'm pretty good at lighting for, Moses, I don't need anything from you, man. Henry, what? Moses, I said, I don't need a damn thing from you.

I don't need your help. I don't need your contribution, and honestly, no one really needs you here. Beat. Henry's stumped. Moses, still enteeed if I want something from you, I'll come hollering. In the meantime, I think it's best we avoid one another. You cool with that, Oliver Twist. Jerome found that hilarious.

Henry saw. Jerome, stops laughing, yeah. Seconded. Henry now looks to Ty, also amused, to see if he feels the same. Ty just turns away to the scenery. Henry, to Moses, suit yourself. Turns away, under breath, prick. With that, Henry goes back to Nadi and Chantal. Beat. About to sit, Henry decides it's not over. He carries on up the boat, into Beth and Angela's direction. Noddy, babes. Beth sees Henry coming, quickly gets up and walks past him, fake smiles on way. Henry halts. Throws his hands up, so much for making friends.

He sits down. The boat's engine drowns out his thoughts. Beat. Angela, oh, da us I suppose I should be thanking you. Henry's caught off guard. Henry, sorry, what? Henry turns to Angela, engrossed in a book, her legs hang out the boat. Angela, well, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't exactly be on this trip. And they say white privilege is a bad thing. Henry, uh, yeah. That's a right.

You're welcome. Beat. Henry, so enteed, breaks silence, what are you reading? Angela, her attention still on the pages. Angela, shows cover, Heart of Darkness. Henry, is it good? Angela yep. Beat.

Henry, what's it about? Angela doesn't answer, clearly just wants to read. Then, Angela, sighs, it's about this guy, Marlowe. Gets a job on a steamboat on this river. Looks up, like, this exact river. And he's told to go and find this other guy called Mr. Kurt. who's apparently gone insane from staying in the jungle for too long or something. Henry processes this.

Angela, silenete anyway, it turns out the natives up river treat Kurt sort of like an evil god, makes them do evil things for him. And along the way, Marlowe contemplates what the true meaning of good and evil is and all that shit. Henry, right. Beat. Henry, sileneteed that sounds a lot like apocalypse now. Angela, condescending, that's because it is.

Henry, concerned, and it's from being in the jungle that he goes insane. Angela, still in book, mm-hmm, beat. Henry, suddenly tense. Rotates around at the continual line of moving trees on both banks. Henry, can I ask you something? Why did you agree to come along with all of this? Angela, I don't know. for the adventure maybe because i somewhat agree with their bullshit philosophy of restarting humanity beat besides i could be asking you the same thing beat

henry looks back to noddy tie now next to her they appear to make friendly conversation noddy looks up front to henry gives a slight smile he unconvincingly smiles back ext mongala river evening days later. The boat has now entered rainforest country. Rainfall heaves down, fills the narrowing tributary. Surrounding the boat, vegetation engulfs everything in its greenness. Animal life is heard, the calling of multiple bird species, monkeys cackle, coincides with the sound of rain. The tail of a small crocodile disappears beneath the rippling water. On the boat. Everyone soaking wet, yet the humidity of the rainforest is clearly felt. Civilization is now confirmedly behind. Ext Mungala River, Day.

Rain continues to pour as the boats almost now at full speed. Curves around the banks. Around the curve, the group's attention turns to the revelation of a man. Waiting. He waves at them, as if stranded. Moses, to Fabrice, there. That's got to be him. Fabrice slows down, pulls up bank side, next to the man.

Congolese Late 20s Dressed appropriately for this environment. Moses, Silentidio, Abraham, right? It's us. We're the Americans. Abraham, in English, yes. Yes.

Hello. Hello, Americans. XT Rainforest. Later that day, rainfall is now dormant. The group move on foot through the thick jungle, follow behind Abraham. Moses, Jerome and tie up front with him. In the middle, Beth is with Angela, who has the best equipped gear, clearly knows how to be in this terrain. At back are Chantal, Nadi and Henry. Henry rotates around at the treetops where sunlight seeps through, heavenly. Noddy inhales, takes in the clean, natural air. Beth, slaps neck, A-H. These damn mosquitoes are killing me. To Angela, Ange, can you get me my bug repellent? Angela pulls out a can

of bug repellent from Beth's backpack. Beth, so enteed, Jesus. How can anyone live here? Noddy, sarcastic, well, it's a good thing we're not, isn't it then? Shantal, to Beth, would you spray me too? There in my damn hair. Beth sprays Shantal. Chantal, Silenteed not on me. Around me. Extee, Rainforest, two days later, the group continue their trek, far further into the interior now.

A single line. Everyone struggles under the humidity. Tie now at the back. Henry, ah, shit. naughty babes what's wrong henry i need to go again chantal seriously again naughty do you want me to wait for you henry nah nah just keep going and i'll catch up yeah tell the others not to wait for me henry leaves the line drops his backpack and heads into the trees the others move on tie and noddy now walk together dragged behind the group. Beat. T.Y.E. He ain't gonna make it. Noddy. Pardon? T.Y. That's like the dozenth time he's had to go and we've only been out here for two days. Noddy, Ty, it's not exactly

like you're running marathons out here. Tye looks around, feels his shirt, soaked in sweat. T.Y.E. Yeah, maybe. Differences though, I always knew what I was getting myself into, and I don't think he really did. Clearly. Noddy, you don't know the first thing about Henry. T.Y. I know what regret looks like. Dudes practically swimming in it. Noddy, stops and turns to tie. Noddy, look. I'm sorry how things ended between us. Okay. I really am. But don't you dare try and make me question my relationship with Henry. That's my business. Not yours, and I need you to stay out of it. T.Y.E. Fine. If that's what you want.

But remember what I said, you are the only reason I'm here. What? You think I'm here for the cause? Hell no. I'm here for you. Beat. Ty lets that sink in. T.Y. E. C-O-N-T-you may think he's here for you too, but I know better, and it's only a matter of time before you start to see that for yourself. Nadi gets drawn up into Tye's eyes. Doubt now surfaces on her face.

Beat. Nottie, I will always cherish what we, rustlings heard. Ty and Nottie look behind, as Henry resurfaces out the trees. Nottie turns away instantly from Ty, who walks on, gives her one last look before he joins the others. Henry's now caught up with Nottie. Henry, breathless, hey, naughty, hey, beat. Nottie's unsettled. Everything Tye said sticks with her.

Henry, oh, that's I swear that's the last time, I promise. Extee rainforest, days later, the trek continues. Heavy rain has returned, is all we can hear. Abraham, in front of the others, studies around at the jungle ahead, extremely concerned, even afraid. He stops dead in his tracks. Moses and Jerome run into him. Moses, yo, Abe. What's up, man? Beat. Abraham is frozen. Fearful to even move. Moses, Silentidio, Abe. Jerome clicks his fingers in Abraham's face. No reaction. Jerome, to Moses, man, what the hell's with him? Abraham takes a few steps backwards.

Abraham, I go. I go no more. Jerome, what? Abraham, you go. You go. I go back. Moses, what the hell you're talking about? You're supposed to show us the way.

Beat. Abraham opens his backpack, takes out and unfolds a map to show Moses. Abraham, here. He moves his finger along a pencil-drawn route on the map. Abraham, Silenteed follow, follow this. Keep follow and you will find. God bless. Abraham, Silenteed, to others, God bless.

He stops on Henry. Abraham, Silenteed God bless, white man. Beat. With that, Abraham leaves. Everyone watches him go. Moses, Shouts, Abe, man. What if we get lost?

To be continued. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave behind. Int. Henry's flat, North London, later, a door. Keys are heard screwing into the lock on other side. The door opens. Henry rushes in, goes straight into the kitchen, puts a plastic bag half full with food next to the refrigerator.

He darts back out the room. Beat. Comes back in with his laptop. Puts it on the table and turns it on. The brightness glares off his face. He's on a video telelphany app, waits for the other end to pick up. Beeping. He waits, still beeping.

Then, naughty, on screen, Henry. Content protrudes from Henry's face. Henry, into screen, all right, babes. How you doing? Intercut with, int. Nottie's apartment, Boston, morning, naughty. Without her hijab. We now see just how beautiful she is. Long, curly black hair flows down. However, bags underline her eyes, presumably hasn't slept. Noddy, into screen, yeah. I'm good, thank you. Just a bit tired, though, it's still very early here. Henry, oh, right. Sorry. Beat, so, um, how's uni going and all that? All right, I hope. Noddy, yeah. Uni's good. Really good. Henry, right. Yeah. Good. Awkward silence. Henry, so enteeed, coughs, you look amazing by the way.

It's been a while since we last talked on here. Noddy, blushes, I'm a complete mess of late, to be honest. You probably think I look hideous. Henry, what? Course not. You're beautiful. Just like the day I met you, Noddy doesn't reply, just stares through the screen, a look of anxiety. Henry, silen teed, off silence, so, how is everyone? How are the bads? Noddy, yeah. No, everyone's great. Everyone's, yeah.

Beat. Small talk is just getting more awkward. Henry, so, um, you said you had something urgent to talk to me about. Noddy again stares blankly at Henry. Nottie, um, yeah. Noddy adjusts herself on the couch slightly, as if only to delay time. Nottie, so indeed that's the thing, I. I don't really know how to come out and say all this.

A look of concern in Henry's eyes. Henry, keeps face, say what? Babes, you know you can tell me anything, right? Nothing's changed. Another beat. Noddy, Henry, that's the thing. It kind of has. Henry's eyes scrutinize on the other end, confused.

Henry, um, he now closes them. Overtinking gets the better of him, shakes it off. Henry, silen t'ois, what do you mean? What's changed? Noddy, well, there's something that I, um, I've been meaning to talk to you about. regarding me coming back home. Henry, hopeful, oh. Yeah, go for it. Tell me. Noddy takes a breath. Nottie, well, the guys have decided that. She isn't sure how to say it. Noddy, so entee the guys,

Moses, Jerome, Tai, Chantal, Beth, they've decided that they're going to live in Africa for a while, permanent actually and size they've asked me to be a part of that beat and i've said yes a stiff silence in both rooms henry what why would you anxious laugh why would you want to do that for i mean did you say africa noddy nods yeah henry why why the fuck would you agree to do that Nottie, Henry, they're my family. They've always been there for me, ever since I first got here. I mean, Shantal and Beth, were practically sisters, and even ties. Noddy halts.

Noddy, so indeed when I'm with them, I feel like I belong. For the first time in my life I actually belong somewhere. I don't need to worry about them judging me because my parents were Muslim or because I'm an orphan. They're the family I chose, and I don't want to lose them. Henry's speechless. In utter shock. Henry, well, when is this? When's this happening?

Beat. Noddy, in a month's time. Henry, and you didn't think of mentioning this to me? I mean, where does that even leave us? Noddy bites her bottom lip, not wanting to say the words. Noddy, Henry, Henry, wait, wait. Whose idea was this? Noddy, Henry, why is that important? Henry, just tell me, whose idea was it? Was it Moses? Noddy, yes. It was Moses. Henry, right, so, you're going to move to Africa, Africa, first of all, and what? Just because some guy who changed his name to Moses tells you to. Noddy, do you know how messed up that sounds? Tears begin to form in Nottie's eyes.

Nottie, white's eyes, well, it's not like I actually want to go. But Moses said, Henry, right, Moses said, Nottie, Henry. Beat, he said we could start our very own utopia together, where we wouldn't be discriminated or even looked at funny again, because, we would be with just our own. Henry shakes his head in denial, can't believe the words he's hearing. Henry, I mean, we're in Africa. Kenya

South Africa Beat. Noddy, the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Henry, where? Noddy, sighs, we originally planned on a beach somewhere in Gabon, so we would be living in paradise, but then we all did a DNA test together, and as it turns out, we're all somewhat descended from the Congo. So, we changed it there and, look, we'll be much safer there anyway, will be more isolated and in a life-supporting environment. Henry's anger now transfers to

desperation. Henry, softly, well, you're coming back, aren't you? Beat. Noddy, I don't know. Henry, but, what about your family? Your friends? Here. Noddy's water-filled eyes imply the answer. Henry, so entee then, what about us? We already have a long this T. Henry this time answers his own question. Henry, so enteeed, this is, this is what you really wanted to talk about, right? Henry's eyes are on his keypad, looking at her now is just too painful. Noddy, I'm sorry. A harrowing silence on opposite ends of the screen. They both sit there. sure what to say or do next. Int.

Nottie's apartment, Boston, later that day. Nottie's laid out on her couch, hijab covers her face. She's displayed almost like a smothered corpse. Beat. The doorbell rings. Nottie gets up slowly, removes her hijab, her eyes red from deep crying. She goes to door and opens it. Reveals, tie.

Beat. From Nottie's appearance, Ty instantly knows what's happened. T.Y. E. sympathetically, hey. Nottie, sniffles, hey. Tai stands in the doorway, as Nottie looks anywhere but him. T.Y. E. enters, opens arms, come here. Ty puts his arms around Nottie, holds her. Nottie stares over Tye's high shoulders at the open door, before Ty closes it with his foot.

in restaurant slash pub london night the place is filled with people eased restrictions barely anyone's social distancing chattering heard all over at a corner table we see four caucasian adults mid thirties three blokes and a woman henry is also among them tired-eyed and emotional drinks till he's numb oblivious to his surroundings darren to friend And, so, you're telling me, that if you got to go into space and be in one of those hibernation pod thingies, and got to see what the world's like a hundred years from now, that you wouldn't take it? Steve, exactly. Darren, why not? Steve, one film, Planet of the Apes.

Darren, yeah. Which one? Steve, the old one, you know, he comes back to Earth-like. I don't know, thousands of years later, but the one. there's nothing left. The three blokes continue their discussion, as the woman with them, Emily. Blonde. Slim, turns her attention to Henry next to her, still drinks his sorrows away. She looks concerned. Darren, oh yes, yeah, but all I'm saying is, what if it's not? What if it's filled with flying cars and shit, or world peace? Emily, to Henry, why don't we make that your last one? Yeah,

brough? No reply. The discussion on the table continues. Beat. Emily, silenteed, sincerely, do you need money? Darren's friends and now burst into laughter, one sprays beer all over. Henry, annoyed, gets up and leaves, almost falls over his chair, brings beer with him. Emily watches him stumble out the room. Int. Moving car, later, Emily drives with Henry next to her in the front passengers. She watches the road nervously as, Henry, Silenteed, why the fuck would anyone want to live in Africa? I mean, South Africa, coarse, or even somewhere cool like Egypt, but in the middle of a

fucking jungle somewhere with mosquitoes and shit. Like COVID wasn't bad enough, she actually has to go and get something else. Emily's eyes stay on the road, yet takes this all in. Henry, Silentied, it's those mates of hers. I just knew, I knew they were going to be trouble. They're basically a no-white's club. Henry takes a break, to hold his head in a daze. Beat.

Henry, silen teed, softly, first it's my job, then it's my girlfriend. There's just... There's just no point anymore. Emily, concerned, oh, come on, Henry, how can you say that? I mean, you're young, you've still got your whole... life ahead of you. Beat, you know what I think. I think she'll come to her senses.

I think she'll realize what a big mistake she's made and she'll come right back to you. Honestly, I do. Henry, nothing to say. He looks out to the city streets and lights. A despairing silence takes over. Emily, Silenteed, changes subject, hey. Did I tell you? Me and Darren got our DNA.

results back yesterday. Turns out we, cause, me and you will be the same, are 6% French. That's, kind of cool, right? Again, met with silence. Emily, Silentidia. So, cool. Beat, it's probably not that accurate anyway. It said we're also 6% Congolese or something like that. Beat. Henry again doesn't react. But then, Henry, turns to Emily, what? Emily, yeah, well, we're mostly English, but... Yeah, that's what it said. Henry, Tsohn, Congolese.

You mean like Congo, Africa. As in the democra. Africa. Emily, oh, shit. Henry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Henry, I need to get home right now. How far are we from the tube? Emily, confused, we're just about there.

Henry, what's wrong? Henry, it's fine. I just need to get home. Moments later, Emily's car pulls over outside an entrance to the London underground. Henry excitedly opens his door. Emily, Henry. Tell me, what's wrong? Henry, it's fine.

I promise. I think I've got this all sorted out. I'll call you tomorrow, yeah. Love you. With that, Henry shuts the door and heads straight into the underground. In't. Henry's flat, North London, later that night. Henry barges in without closing the door, too excited.

Moves to the kitchen and pulls out his phone. Henry, silen teed, to himself, okay. Let's do this. I'm doing this. goes through contacts on phone Henry Silenteed N Where's N Scrolls down to pen

Finds naughty, taps it Henry Silenete okay What's the time Okay, she'll be up His thumb now hovers over the screen In position waits to press call When beat

He hesitates Slides thumb away Reality hits. Henry, silen teed, breathless. Fuck. Henry slaps his phone on the table. Leans over it. Thinking.

Beat. He now goes to the fridge, fishes out a beer and opens it. Int. Henry's bedroom, early morning, Henry. Passed out in bed. Phone and beer cans next to his face. Outside his bedroom window, Night has turned to dawn when, Henry, Soeneteed woe. Henry wakes.

As if from a bad dream. Beat. Now calm, he sinks his head back into the juvei, before a coughing fit brings him back up. Henry, Soenteed, coughs, God. His eyes blink to the time on his phone. Henry, Silentee shit. Henry sits up. Rub's face.

Henry, Silenteed, ugh. She's gonna be asleep by now. Beat. Henry's barely awake or sober enough to think. Henry, Silenteed well. It's now. He opens his phone, instantly on Nottie's number. Henry, Silentied or fucking never.

His finger now hovers over, call, before again hesitates. Still undecided. Then, he put. presses it. Henry. Surprised himself. Henry, Silenteed I did it. Shit. The phone now beeps. Anticipates the other end. Henry, Silentee babes, please. Just be up. Intercut slash int. Nottie's bedroom, Boston, night, same time. It's dark, yet shapes can be made out in the bed. One of them is Nottie, she sleeps rough. Harder to make out the one next to her.

Nottie's phone starts to ring, lights up her bedside drawer. Awake, Nottie turns and reaches for it. Her face scrutinizes over the light, barely sees who's calling. She peers back at the shape next to her. She now gets up to leave the room. Phone still rings. She looks back again to the bed, revealed from the glist. of her phone, is the shape of Thai, fast asleep. Nottie closes the bedroom door in the

hallway. Presses, receive, and puts the phone to her ear. Nottie, silently, on phone, Henry. Cut to, Henry. In his kitchen. Henry, on phone, oh itch, thank God. You're up. Look, I'm really sorry, I know it must be like 4 a.m. where you are right now, but. I just really need to talk to you about something. Back to, Noddy. Moves to the living room. Noddy, Henry, what is it? Are you all right? Henry, yep. I'm completely fine. I'm a little hung over and probably a bit drunk still, but that's just because I was working my way up to what I'm about to ask you. Noddy, ask me what? Henry. Henry, okay. Henry works up the courage. then goes, Henry, so entee would it be at all plausible, if I were to come with you to Africa?

To the, um, what's it called? The something of Congo. Noddy, confused, what? Henry, because I was thinking, what if we're meant to not, not be together? Muddled, I mean, what if you and I are meant to be together, but, how can we be if we're on different continents or if we're not going to see each other again? I mean, you might not even stay there, you might want to come back, but what if you don't? So, that's why I'm asking.

Can I come with you, to Africa? To the, something of Congo. Beat. Noddy is overwhelmed by this. Unsure how to respond. Nottie, Henry. It's not as simple as that. It's not even up to me, this was Moses' idea.

Anyway, it's BADS members only. No, it's not even that, it's only black BADS members who are allowed to come, or members with African heritage. Beat. Henry's stumped. But then, Henry, that's it. That's the thing. That's what gave me the idea to ask about this. Okay, so, last night, my sister took me home, and she mentioned her and her dickhead boyfriend got a DNA.

test done and that, and then she said that her results came back, saying she was six, or something percent Congo, Congolese. Right. Like you and your mates. Nottie's silent on her end. Tries to process this. Henry, still enteeed in other words. I'm African. Nottie, are you? Are you being serious? Because, Henry, Henry, I am dead serious. Look, I'll even get my sister to send you her results, but... You said, how do we know that we're meant to be together, and, what more proof do you need than that? And if that's not enough of a reason to fight for us, then...

What is? Nottie remains speechless. Wide awake now. Noddy, did her results say anything else? Henry, was hoping for a better answer. Henry, um... Yeah. She also said that we were, like, 6% French, or something. Noddy, what, like, exactly 6%.

Henry's excitement turns to frustration. Henry, Noddy, if us not having the same, ancestry isn't enough of a reason then, maybe your answer to this is. Beat. Nottie waits on the other end. Henry, so and T. do you love me, still? Do you still love me? Noddy. Hangs off the end of her couch. Phone to ear. Silent, as she stares into nothing.

Almost to find an answer. Beat. She finds it. To be continued. We begin with the case against the werewolf, Manuel Blanco Romicanta for multiple murders. Allerese, April, 1853. This marked the beginning of the, extensive judicial summary of over 2000, handwritten words compiled in seven volumes. These detail the first trial against a Spanish serial, killer and the only case involving a werewolf tried in a national court of justice. The case of the werewolf, of Alariz seems taken from a movie script, though it has indeed inspired one, as well as several novels. However, in this case, reality far, surpasses fiction. According to the baptismal register of the parish of Santa Eulalia de Eskos, on November 18, 1809, Manuel Blanco was born,

son of Miguel Blanco and Maria, Roma Santa, in the small village of Rigero. From his earliest, childhood, a deep mystery surrounded, Manuel Roma Santa. So much so that, for reasons unknown, he was registered in the baptismal record as a girl and, baptized as Manuel Blanco. As he grew, written accounts describe him as a man, of normal appearance. They say he was, blonde, measured around 1.37 meters, and, according to historians, had gentle, features. On April 29, 1825, Manuel, received confirmation alongside his two, brothers, Jose and Antonio. Around that time, Manuel stood out for his great, versatility and agility in learning. We deduced this from the fact that he held many different jobs, he worked as

a shopkeeper, muleteer, and even a tailor. His life is full of anecdotes, related to his daily activities. It is, even said that he could weave and had no issue performing tasks typical of women, of that era. Perhaps this fact is, directly linked to his intersexuality. In any case, the detail that truly interests us is the following, according to the marriage and death records kept, in the parish of Santa Eulalia da, Esco's Manuel Blanco married Francisco, Gomez Vasquez on March 3, 1831. However, the marriage would be short, lived, as his wife died only three years, later, without bearing children. From that moment on, Manuel would never be the same again. A widower at 24 years of age, he left behind a sedentary life and began to make a living

traveling through Galicia. He started traveling with a mobile store, first across Galicia, then, in other parts of Spain, and eventually, he reached Portugal. On these trips, he learned to move deftly through forests and trails where he would soon commit his heinous crimes. During the time, Roma Santa remained in his homeland, he, behaved appropriately and attracted, little attention. But soon after, beginning his life as a traveling, salesman, rumors began. There was a rumor that while in Castile, he murdered, the servant of the prior of San Pedro de, Rokas. He was also suspected of killing, the traveling salesman Manuel Ferreiro, in 1834. And in 1843, after having promised marriage to Catarina Fernandez, a woman 18 years his senior, he had to flee, Leon, as he was the main

suspect in the murder of Vicente Fernandez, Leon's, constable. Why was Manuel a suspect? Because this man, was about to seize his mobile store due, to a debt Roma Santa owed to another merchant, a debt valued at 600 reels, a small fortune at the time. However, there, was a great lack of evidence in each of, the aforementioned cases. Even so, on October 10, 1844, the court of first instance in Ponferata sentenced him to, 10 years in prison. They wanted to, sentence him to death, but Roma Santa did, not appear, and no evidence surfaced. Following the imposed sentence later, confirmed by the court of Viadolid, Roma Santa fled and hid in Galicia, within the parish of Rebordeco. In Rebordeco, Romo Santa lived and worked, as a day laborer, taking

refuge in the home of Andres Blanco. This man had nothing but good things to say about him. He recounted that, sometimes Manuel would disappear for days or even weeks to go trade in, Portugal, periods during which farming, activity was low, making his help dispensable. He said Manuel brought, contraband goods from Portugal and then, sold them at festivals and markets. Everyone appreciated Manuel for his, friendly demeanor and his great, willingness to help with anything, everything except animal sacrifices, as, paradoxically, he couldn't bear the, sight of the blood of those innocent, creatures. In 1845, Manuel Blanco, Roma Santa became inseparable friends, with Manuela Garcia Blanco, a woman ten, years his senior with a very tumultuous, romantic history.

At 37, she had a daughter out of wedlock, then married, Pasqual Morello and was widowed. She, then married Pasqual Gomez and in 1838 divorced him. In early 1846, the friendship between Roma Santa and Manuela became a platonic love. Around that time, Manuela, accompanied by her daughter Petra, followed Romo Santa. Everywhere, in his sales, on his walks, she, was with him 24 hours a day. In February, of that same year, lacking economic resources, Manuel put her little house in Rebordeco up for sale. She decided to sell it for 60 reels to help.

Roma Santa with his business. Later, on March 30th, Manuel left her home to negotiate with a potential buyer. It was, then that Roma Santa took the opportunity to take Petra, 13 years old, to the Sierra de San Mamede. When Manuelo returned and asked Roma Santa, where her daughter was, he told her he, had sent her to work as a maid in the house of a priest in Santander, a man whom Manuel had spoken about, favorably. on many occasions. Trusting, her beloved Roma Santa's word, Manuela, waited patiently. She waited a full 80 days. Then she, decided to go herself to serve the priest, in Santander, largely to be with her, beloved daughter. Romo Santa not only, encouraged her but also offered to, accompany her. A few days later, Roma Santa returned to Rebordeco, and, when people asked about

Manuela and Petra, he said he had left them, happily in Santander, that they were well, settled and earning excellent wages. No one imagined he was lying in that, this man was a terrible killer. No one imagined he had murdered them, dismembered them, and extracted their fat, or lard, to later sell in his traveling store. No one suspected he had, left their remains exposed in the wild to, attract wolves, wolves who would eventually become his perfect alibi. An alibi that would make him a sinister, legend. Romusanta took the lie to the extreme. Three days after returning, he, told Manuel's sisters that he had, received a letter from her, a letter in, which she said she was very happy and, starting a wonderful new life. After, eliminating Manuela and Petra, Roma Santa,

set his sights on Benita Garcia Blanco, 34 years old, Manuel's younger sister. She had a nine-year-old son, little Paco, and a troubled marriage with a certain, Francisco Nunez in the village of Sotelo, Verde. At the end of 1847, the abbot, Castro of Laza conducted the first, census as parish priest, and he noticed that Francisco Nunez was no longer in, Sotelo Verde, nor were his wife Benita, and son Paco. According to locals, Francisco had gone to Sanzone due to marital problems, but no one knew where Benita had gone, not even her child. They assumed, for lack of a home, she may, have gone to live with family.

This was, when Roma Santa stepped in. Using the, supposed letter from Manuela, which said, she was happy working in Santander, he, claimed he had convinced Benita to travel there with her son to start a new life. He assured everyone he had found her, employment in a house near that of the first priest and that she was now with, Manuela and Petra. This clearly indicates that Benita and her son were the next two, victims of the werewolf of Alarys. Within a few weeks, Roma Santa was, selling sheets, a quilt, and Benita's robe. No one imagined that on March 13th, he had murdered Benita and her son with, blows in the forest. Nor could they imagine he had devoured part of their bodies and rendered their fat, leaving, the rest for the wolves. And to a great extent, they didn't imagine this because, Roma Santa lied so convincingly.

He told, Luis Garcia, Benita's brother, that she, had won the lottery and had enrolled, Paco in law school. To Maria, another, sister, he claimed the woman lived just, two leagues away, in a priest's house. while her son stayed with the priests, nephew. Romusanta had everyone fooled. He kept them under control with his, smooth words. He had them so tricked that, Maria, Benita's 58-year-old sister, began, dreaming of leaving the village. She, dreamed of a new life and told Roma Santa, she wanted to join Manuela, Benita, and, their children. But he told her that to, take a risk, she'd have to make a, saccharacterial.

sacrifice, sell her oxen and all her belongings. For the first two weeks in, Santander, she'd need to fend for, herself. Maria became discouraged and, decided not to go. But that didn't, matter, Roma Santa already had another victim in his sights, Antonia Ruha, Carnaro. With Antonia, Roma Santa began a romance that he didn't hide from, anyone, perhaps because it suited him. Antonio was single, but she had two daughters, Maria, 11 years old, and Paragrina, under three. Not only was she a single mother, making her a perfect victim, but she also had a considerable fortune inherited from her mother, worth 600 reels. To Roma Santa, Antonia seemed, easy to fool, and he was right.

Just a few days into their courtship, Antonia told, the neighbors that made. Manuel had promised to marry her and open a store in Castile. Two days later, she changed her story and, said Manuel had found her work as a maid, in her rents for a widowed master with two children. Then her story changed again, now she claimed she'd be working for the same master as Manuela and Benita. With this background, Roma Santa left on Palm Sunday of, 1850 with Antonia and her daughter Maria. He had previously sold all of Antonia's possessions, keeping the money and, promising to pay later. Two or three, days later, Roma Santa returned to Rebordeco with two goats he had, bought in Rovo. Fortunately, Maria,

Antonia's daughter, had not traveled, with them. She had stayed at her aunt, Josefa's house. Upon returning, Roma Santa stayed with his uncle Luis for, a couple of months. However, Roma Santa, taken possession of her mother's, lands, asked for the girl to join him. He offered her better living conditions, and so she agreed. For several months, the girl was treated well, until the fall, of 1850, when Romassanta proposed taking her to her mother. The girl, in her, innocence, didn't know she had agreed to, a one-way trip. Naturally, neighbors and relatives asked Romisanta for explanations, but he always said they, were doing fine. It was strange that the, only person they ever wrote to.

To be continued. They ask Roma Santa for explanations, but he always says they are fine. It's strange that only they write to him. It's strange that only he has news. What is happening to the women who leave? What is happening to the children? Why do the street vendors passing through Asturius claim to know nothing about these women. Why does no one know anything? Why does only Roma Santa have information? Is he

trying to hide something? Roma Santa must stop now if he doesn't want suspicious glances to turn toward him. And yet he sets his sights on Josefa Garcia Blanco, an unmarried woman of almost 50 years who has a 21-year-old son whose father not even she knows. She is an easy target, and Roma Santa senses it. He begins to visit her day and night until she finally falls at his feet. Once he has conquered her, he makes her the same offer as the other victims. But she is fearful. She does not dare to cross half the world only to find nothing. Roma Santa is very cunning, and in November 1850 he proposes to take her son Jose, 21, first so that he can visit his aunts. If he likes life there, Josefa will join him on the trip. The proposal seems

sensible, and both mother and son accept. A few days later, Jose leaves with Roma Santa toward Santander. The young man is excited, eager to see his aunts. But what he doesn't know is that he will neither find them nor return home. Three or four days later, Roma Santa returns, wrapped in Jose's cloak, a cloak that supposedly the young man had gifted him. The parish priest likes the cloak and buys it for 70 reels. He has no idea that its owner has been brutally murdered, that his fat has been extracted, and his body left to the mercy of the wolves. In Jose's absence, Josefa believes her son has stayed with his aunts because life there is pleasant. But that's not all. Roma Santa assures her that he has secured a job for her son,

as a servant in a rich priest's house, one who pays a gold ounce per year. To make his words more credible, the liar shows Josefa a fake letter from Jose in which he says everything is going wonderfully and he hopes to be reunited with her soon. There was no more time to lose, Josefah had to go meet him. And so, on New Year's Day, 1851, Josefa departs for Santander in Roma Santa's company. She is dressed in a black outfit of wool and linen, a pico apron, a blue woolen scarf, and pretty shoes. As always, Roma Santa returns a few days later and in a nearby village sells all of Josefa's belongings. The height of his audacity comes when Roma Santa does not sell Josef's shoes, but instead gives them to Luis

Garcia Blanco, saying they are a gift from Aunt Josefa for his daughter. Days passed, then weeks and months, and the rumors began to surface. No one trusts this man who makes women and children disappear. A key episode occurred when Jose Garcia Blanco went to dine at Roma Santa's house to ask for news about his sisters. Roma Santa invited him to sit at the table, placed the bread in the center, and took a knife from his pocket, a knife with which he began to slice the bread. It was his sister Josefah's knife. In that moment, everything seemed to make sense in his head.

Before him was no longer a kind grocer, a friendly man, an attentive man. There was a monster, a madman who, just as everyone said, had mercilessly killed his sisters and nephews. Jose couldn't help but stand up and threaten him. He couldn't help but almost beat him. But Roma Santa tried to calm him, tried to pacify him, and the next day, he vanished. In February 1854, Roma Santa was so frightened by the rumors, rumors that said he was a sacramenticus, who lured victims into the forest and removed their fat to sell it in Portugal, along with their belongings, that he decided to create a false identity. He forged a certificate stating his name was Antonio Gomez and that he was from Duramo. With this document,

he applied for and obtained a passport to travel to Castilla. However, fate decided that justice had to be done. On July 2, 1852, Roma Santa was arrested. At that time, it was common for labor patrols to travel to Toledo for the harvest. By chance, three men who knew him saw him walking calmly by the fields. They rushed to alert the authorities, who immediately arrested him. Before the Escalona court, Roma Santa denied everything. He said he had nothing to do with the deaths. But seeing that everyone knew who he was and had identified him, he had no choice but to continue lying. He said that yes, he knew Roma Santa, but not because he was Roma Santa, but because he was his cousin. Hence the striking resemblance.

But his lies were useless. There were countless pieces of evidence and testimonies pointing to him as a serial killer. Roma Santa was transferred to the Varon Court, where he said something truly shocking, something that would turn him into a legend. He admitted to killing 13 people, but claimed it wasn't his fault. He said he suffered from a terrible curse that intermittently turned him into a ferocious werewolf. He claimed the transformations had tormented him for 13 years and had mysteriously

stopped three days before his arrest. In his elaborate lie, he said, I encountered two large, fierce-looking wolves. Suddenly I fell to the ground and began to convulse. I rolled over three times uncontrollably and in a few seconds, I was a wolf myself. I roamed for five days with the other two until I returned to my body, the one you see now, Your Honor. The two wolves with me, I thought they were wolves, but they two changed into human form. They were two Valencians. One was named Antonio and the other Don Gennaro. They two suffered a curse like mine.

For a long time, I went out as a wolf with Antonio and Don Gennaro. We attacked and ate several people, because we were hungry. Clearly, his statement sounded like the delusion of a madman. However, Roma Sant underwent six medical and psychiatric exams, and all confirmed he was perfectly sane. Moreover, it was proven that he sold the personal belongings of his victims. Therefore, he was fully aware of what he was doing. He knew the what, and he knew the how. To top it off, he led the authorities to the locations where he allegedly killed his victims, places where human bones were found. There was no flesh left, no belongings, nothing to

determine who the remains belonged to. But he insisted those were the remains of his victims. He could say their names with total coldness. He could admit it without blinking. Although the sentence accused him of nine murders, he confessed to many more, some of which, according to him, he committed with the help of the other two cursed men. After Veron, Roma Santa was transferred to the Yarry's court,

where he would go down in history as the werewolf of Alarise. The discovery of the remains and his confessions were enough for Roma Santa to be sentenced to death by Garote on April 6th, 18. But first, the sentence had to be reviewed by the court in La Corunia, where it was overturned and changed to life imprisonment. However, after a second inquiry, Roma Santa was again sentenced to capital punishment on March 23, 1854. The case made international headlines. Correspondence from every country and newspaper swarmed to cover it. It was inconceivable to many that a devout Catholic could have committed such crimes, a man won

point three seven meters tall, with a kind face and gentle features. How was it possible that someone like that, someone once so beloved, could have committed such atrocities? At the time of his arrest, the grocer carried a special passport issued by the Holy See, accrediting him as a pious and trustworthy man. That's why many came to believe he was under the influence of a terrible curse. But not even appeals to the Holy Cross could prevent the guilty verdict. A verdict that sentenced into death. The ruling was reported in newspapers across the globe to the joy of the victim's families. Just when Roma Santa's execution was imminent, a letter arrived from Alger's dated July 3, 1853, a letter addressed to Queen Isabel to herself. The letter, written by

the enigmatic Mr. Philip, requested a halt to the legal proceedings against Roma Santa. This man claimed to be a professor of electro-biological anthropology. Philip argued that any human being could suffer from such a condition. He claimed to have hypnotized many serious individuals into believing they were animals, from wolves to chickens. The letter was signed by numerous individuals who claimed to be witnesses of Dr. Phillips' experiments, the enigmatic electrobiologist. To prove to the Queen what he was capable of, and indeed, the letter had an effect.

Philip's arguments were heard and considered by none other than Isabel two herself. Alongside Philip's scientific intentions was Roma Santa's lawyers aimed to reduce the sentence. The lawyer argued that there was no physical evidence proving his client had killed all those people. Because of all this, on May 13, 1854, a royal order commuted the death sentence to life imprisonment. Roma Santa was safe. But Mr. Philip never set foot in Spain, and therefore never experimented on the so-called werewolf. According to Article 94 of the 1848 Penal Code, Life Imprisonment could be served in Spain, Africa, the Canary Islands, or overseas. The Periodico Paratotos reported on October 11, 1876, that Roma Santa had been taken to Seuta, where he lived as a completely normal person behind bars.

Manuel Blanco Roma Santa ended up in Yarra's prison, where it seemed his days would end. Yet, mystery surrounds his death. The Diario Iberia published a brief note about Roma Santa's death on December 28, 1863, and the Diario La Esperanza did so on December 21st of that same year. Both newspapers concluded that Roma Santa had died of stomach cancer. But if we search for his death in period records, we find nothing. It is recorded that he entered Alarie's prison, but there is no record of him ever leaving, neither alive nor dead.

Not in Allerys, nor in Rebordecao, nor in the parish of Santa Eulalia de Gauss is there a single grave with his name. Historians have searched high and low and found no death record from the Alarys prison regarding the grocer, the legendary werewolf. It is exactly as if the earth had swallowed him whole. But now it's your turn, what do you think of all this? Do you believe this man was truly a lichanthrope, or a great liar? The end. Logline, a young Londoner accompanies his girlfriend's activist group on a journey into the heart of African jungle, only to discover they now must resist the very evil humanity vowed to leave

behind. In t. Black void, beginning of time. We stare into a dark nothingness. A black empty canvas on the screen. We can almost hear a wailing, somewhere in its vast space. Ghostly howls, barely even heard. We stay in this emptiness for 10 seconds. Until, fade in.

Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings, Joseph Conrad. Fade 2. Exte, jungle, Central Africa, Neolithic Age, Day. Conrad's words fade away, transitioning us from an endless dark void into a seemingly endless green primal environment. Vegetation rules everywhere. From vines and snake-like branches of the immense trees to thin, spike-ended leaves covering every inch of ground in space.

The interior to this jungle is diom. Light struggles to seep through holes in the treetops, whose prehistoric trunks have swelled to an immense size. We can practically feel the jungle breathing life. Here it too, animal life. Birds chanting and monkeys howling off screen. On the floor surface, insect life thrives among dead leaves, dead wood and dirt, until, footsteps. One pair of human feet stride into frame and then out. And another pair, then out again.

Followed by another, all walking in a singular line. These feet belonged to three prehistoric hunters. Thin in stature and small, very small, in fact. Barely clothed aside from rags around their waist. carrying a wooden spear each. Their dark skin gleams with sweat from the humid air. The middle hunter is different, somewhat feminine. Unlike the other two, he possesses tribal markings all over his face and body,

with small bone piercings through the ears and lower lip. He looks almost to be a kind of witch doctor. A seer. A wot. The hunters walk among the trees. Brief communication is heard in the world. their ancient language, NO subtitles, until the middle hunter, the Woot, sees something ahead. Holds the two back. Beat. We see nothing. The back hunter, hunter number one, then gets his throwing arm ready. Taking two steps forward, he then lobs his spear nearly 20 meters ahead.

Landing, shaft protrudes from the ground. They run over to it. Hunter number one plucks out his spear, lifts the head to reveal, a dark green lizard, swaying its legs in its dying moments. The hunters study it, then laugh hysterically, except the Woot. 3 Ext Jungle, Evening, the hunters continue to roam the forest, at a faster pace. The shades of green around them dusk ever darker. Later, they now squeeze their way through the interior of a thick bush. Hunter number two scratches himself and wails. The Woot looks around this mouth-like structure, concerned, as if they're to be swallowed whole at any moment. EXT, Jungle, Continuos, they ascend out the other side.

Brush off any leaves or scrapes, and move on. Beat. The two hunters look back to see the Woot has stopped. Hunter number one, Subtitles, To Woot, What is Wrong? Beat. The Woot looks around, again concernedly at the scenery. Noticably different, a darker, sinister green. The trees feel more claustrophobic.

There's no sound, animal and insect life has died away. WOT, Subtitles, We Should Go Back. It is getting dark. Both hunters agree, turn back. As does the Woot, 2 U.S., we see the whites of his eyes widen, searching around desperately. Cut to The Woot's P-O-V, the supposed bush, from which they came, has vanished. Instead, a dark continuation of the jungle. The two hunters noticed this too. Hunter number one, NO subtitles, worrisomely, where is the bush? Hunter number

two points his spear to where the bush should be. Hunter number two, NO subtitles it was there. We went through it and now it has gone. As hunters number one and number two argue, words away from becoming violent, the wot, in front of them, is stone solid. Nose, feels something's deeply wrong. Exte, jungle, day, days later, the hunters. Continue to trek through the same jungle. Hunched over. Spears drag on the ground.

Visibly fatigued from days of non-stop movement, unable to find a way back. Trees and scenery around all appear the same, as if they've been walking in circles. If anything, moving further away from the bush. Hunter's number one and number two begin to stagger, cling to the trees and each other for support. The Woot, clearly struggles the most, begins to lose his bearings, before suddenly, he crashes down on his front, face down into dirt. Beat. The Woot slightly and slowly rises, unaware that inches ahead he's reached some sort of clearing. Hunter's number one and number two, now caught up, stop where this clearing begins. On the ground, the wood sees them look ahead at something, he now faces forward to see.

The clearing is an almost perfect circle. Vegetation around the edges, still in the jungle. And in the center, planted upright, lies a long stump of a solitary dead tree. Darker in color. A different kind of wood. It's also weathered, like the remainder. remains of a forest fire. A stone-marked pathway has also been dug, leading to it. However, what strikingly different is that the tree almost three times longer than the hunters, has a

face carved on the very top. The face, dark, with a distinctive human nose. Bulges for eyes. Horizontal slip for a mouth. It sits like a severed, impaled head. The hunters peer up at the face is haunting, stone-like expression. Horrified. Except the Woot, appears to have come to a spiritual awakening of some kind. Beat. The Woot begins to drag his tired feet towards the dead tree, with little caution or concern, bewitched by the face. Hunter No. 1 tries to stop him, but is aggressively shrugged off.

On the pathway, the Woot continues to the tree, his eyes have not left the face. The tall stump arches down on him. him. The sun behind it, gives the impression this is some kind of god. Rays of light move around it, creates a shade that engulfs the woot. The god swallowing him whole. Beat. Now closer, the woot anticipates touching what seems to be, a red human hand-shaped print branded on the bark. Fingers inches away, before, a high-pitched growl races out from the jungle. Right at the wute crashes down, attacking him. Canines sink into flesh. The Woot cries out in horrific pain. The hunters react. They spear the wild beast on top of him. Stab repetitively, stain what we see

only as blurred orange slash brown fur, red. The beast cries out, yet still eager to take the Woot's life. The stabbing continues, until the beast can't take anymore. Falls to one side, finally off the wot. The hunters go round to continue the killing. Continue stabbing. Grunt as they do it, blood sprays on them, until finally realizing the beast has fallen silent. Still with death. Beat. The beast's face. Dead brown eyes stare into nothing, as hunters number one and number two stare down to sea. This beast is now a primate. Something about it is familiar, its skin, its shape, hands and feet, and especially its face. It's almost. Human. Hunters number one and number two are stunned. Clueless to if this thing is ape or

man. Man or animal. Forget the wot is mortally wounded. His moans regain their attention. They kneel down to him, see as the blood oozes around his eyes and mouth, and the gaping bite mark shredded into his shoulder. The wood turns up to the circular sky. Mumbles unfamiliar words, seems to cling on to life, one breath at a time. Cut to, a chameleon in the trees. Camouflaged as dark as the jungle. Watches over this from a high branch. Exte, jungle clearing, night. Hunters number one and number two sit around a primitive fire, stare motionless into the flames. Mentally defeated, in a captivity they can't escape. Thunder is now heard, high in the distance, yet deep and foreboding.

The wot laid out on the clearing floor, mummified in big leaves for warmth. Unconscious. Sucks air in like a dying mammal. Beat. Then, the wood erupts into awakening. Coensides with the drumming thunder. Eyes wide open.

breathes now at a faster and more panicked pace. The hunters startle to their knees as the thunder produces a momentary white flash of lightning. The Woot's mouth begins to make words. Mumbled at first, but then, Woot, Subtitles, So Ante Terror. The Terror The Terror Thunder and Lightning continues to drum closer. The hunters panic, yell at each other and the Woot, no subtitles.

Woot, Subtitles, So Ante Terror. Terror Terror Terror Hunter number one screams at the Woot to stop, shakes him, as if forgotten he's already awake. Woot, Subtitles, So Ante Terror. Terror

Terror Hunter Number 2 tries to pull Hunter Number 1 back. Lightning exposes their actions. Hunter number 2, subtitles leave him. Hunter No. 1, Subtitles Evil Has Taken Him. Woot, Subtitles Terror. Terror Terror.

Terror number one now races to his spear, before stands back over the woot on the ground. Lifts the spear, ready to skewer the woot into silence, when, thunder clamors as a white light flashes the whole clearing, exposes hunter number one, spear overhead. Hunter number one, stiffens. Beat. The flash vanishes. Hunter No. 1 looks down, to see the end of another spear protrudes out his chest. His spear falls through his fingers. Now clutches the one in his chest, as the Woot continues. W.O.T. Subtitles Terror. Terror. Hunter number one falls to one side as a white light flashes again, reveals Hunter number two behind him, wide-eyed in disbelief. The Woot's rantings have slowed down. The Woot's rantings have slowed down. considerably. W. O.T. Subtitles, so entee terror, terror, faint, terror. Paying no attention to this, hunter number two goes to his murdered huntsman, laid to one side, eyes peer into the darkness around the head. Beat. Hunter number two. Still knelt down beside

Hunter number one. Unable to come to terms with what he's done. Starts to rise back to his feet when, thunder. Lighting. Thud. Hunter number two takes a blow to the head. Falls down instantly to reveal the wot. On his feet. White light exposes his delirious expression, and one of the pathway rocks gripped between his hands. Beat. Down, but still alive, Hunter number two drags his half-motionless body towards the fire, which reflects in the trailing river of blood behind him. A momentary white light. Hunter number two stops to turn over. Takes fast and jagged breaths, as another momentary white light exposes the Woot moving closer.

Hunter number two meets the derangement in the Woot's eyes. Seas hands raise the rock up high, before a final blow is delivered. Woot, Sillantida. Thud Stone Meets Skow The Salls of Hunter hashtag 2's jerking feet become still. Beat. Thunders now dormant. The wot, truly possessed. Gets up slowly. Neanderthals his way past the lifeless bodies of hunters number one and number two. He now sinks down between

the roots of the tree with the face. Blood and sweat glazed all over, distinguish his tribal markings. From the side, the fire and momentary lightning exposes his neolithic features. Beatt, The Woot Caresses the Tree's Roots on either side of him, before. W. O. Tid. Subtitles, So Antide, Silent. The Terror Fade Out Title, Asseli, Intercut slash Ext Modern Day, Boston, Massachusetts, 2020, Streets, Afternoon. Fade I.N. We leave the mass of endless jungle for a mass gathering of civilization.

Along Boston Street filled completely with protesting people, of all colors. Most wear masks, deep into pandemic. They chant, protesters, Black Lives Matter. Black Lives Matter. Almost everyone holds or wave signs, they read, BLM, I Can't Breathe, Justice Now, etc. Policemen keep the peace. Among the crowd, a group of six protesters.

Three men and three women. women, all black, early to mid-20s. Two hold up a black banner, reads, B-A-V-S, bloodhood of African descendants and sympathizers. Among these six are, Moses, African-American, tall and lean, a gold-crossed necklace around his neck. The loudest by far, clearly wants to make a statement. A leadership quality to him. Tie Luan. Mixed-raced. handsome, thin, one of the two holding the banner, distinctive of his neck-length dreadlocks. Nadi Hassan, a pleasant-looking, beautiful young woman, short statured and model thin. She's barely visible from her mask and hijab. She takes part in the chanting alongside the others,

when, Ring, ring, ring. Nadi receives a phone call, takes out her iPhone and pulls down her mask. Answers, Nottie, on phone, raises voice, hello. Beat. She struggles to hear the other end. Nottie, Silenteed, London accent, Henry. Is that you? The girl next to her, Shantal Clemens.

Long hair. Well dressed, inquires in. Chantal, pulls down mask, have you told him? Nottie shakes a glimpsing no. Ty looks back to them, eavesdrops. Fixates on naughty. Beat. Noddy, loudly, Henry, I can't hear you.

I'm at a rally, you'll have to shout. Intercut W-A-H. Intercut slash int. Henry's flat, North London, night, same time. Henry, on phone, I said, I was at the BLM rally in the park today. You know, the one I was talking to you about. Henry Stevens Early 20s Caucasian

Brown hair Not exactly tall or muscular, yet possesses that unintentional bad boy persona girls weaken four to accompany his deep blue eyes. In the kitchen of a small North London flat, he glows on the other end. Back to, Nottie The noise around takes up the scene. Nottie, hand over ear, on phone, Henry,

Seriously, I can't hear a single word you're saying. Look, how about we chat tomorrow? Yeah. Henry. Henry, on phone, yeah. All right, what time do you want me to call? Nottie, on phone, okay. Got to go. Bye.

Bye. Henry, on phone, yeah, bye. Love why, Henry looks to his iPhone, Nottie's hung up. He lets out a sigh of disqual. defeat, before carelessly dumps the phone on the table, slumps down into a chair. Beat. Henry, silen teed, to himself, fuck. Henry looks over at the chair opposite him.

A white rally sign lies against it. The sign reads, love has no color. Int Boston Cafe, later that day, at a table, the exhausted BADS sit in a half-empty cafe, people still protest outside. An awkwardness hangs over them. The TV above the counter displays the news. Newswoman, O.S, I know the main debates of this time are racial rights and of course the pandemic, but we cannot hide from the facts. Global warming is at an all-time high. Even with the huge decrease in air travel and the manufacture of certain automobiles, one thing that has not decreased is deforestation. Beat.

Moses, to B. A.D.S. That's it. That's all we can do, for now. A waitress comes over. Moses, silen teed, to waitress. Um. Yeah, six coffees. Before she goes, but, I have mine black. Thanks. The waitress walks away. Moses checks her out before turns back to the group. Moses, Tzu and Tiet at least now, we can focus on what really matters. On how we're truly going to make a difference in this world. No reply. Everyone looks down at the table as to avoid Moses' eyes. Moses, Tzellanteed how we all feel about that.

Beat. The members look to each other, wonder who will go first. Shantal, to Moses, I do know. Struggles for words, it's just feet. feeling, real all or sudden. To group, right? Moses, ignores Chantal, how the rest of y'all feeling. Jerome shit, I'm going.

Fuck this world. Jerome Booth. Sat next to Moses, his lap dog. Beth, yeah. Me too. And Beth Godwin. Shaved head. Athlete's body.

Beth, silen teed, coldly, even though you y'all won't let my girl come. Beat. Moses, naughty. You're being a quiet duck. What you got to say about all or this? Noddy. Put on the spot.

Everyone's attention on her. Noddy, well. It just feels like, we're giving up. I mean, people are here fighting for their civil and human rights, whereas we'll be somewhere far away from all this. Without making a real contribution, Moses gives her a stone-like reaction. Noddy, silen teed, off Moses' look,

it just seems to me that we should still be fighting, rather than, running away. Awkward silence. Everyone back on Moses. Moses, you think this is us running away. To others, is that what the rest of y'all think? That this is me, retreating from the cause. Moses cranes back at Nottie for an answer.

She looks back without one. Moses, Silenteed Nadi. You like your books. Ever read Sun Tzu, The Art of War? Nottie's eyes meet the others, what's he getting at? Noddy, no, Moses, it was Sun Tzu that said, Build Your Opponent a Golden Bridge for which they will retreat across. Well, we're going to build our own damn bridge,

and while this side falls into political, racial and religious chaos, and when global warming finally kicks in. We'll be on the other side, creating a black utopia in the land of our ancestors, where humanity began and can begin again. Beat. Everyone's heard this speech before. Moses, silen teed but, hey. If y'all think that's a retreat, hey, y'all are entitled to your opinions. Free speech and all that, right? Ain't that what makes America great? civilization great democracy

shakes no no that's an illusion not on our side though on our side in our utopia that will be a reality an awkward silence again Jerome retreat is sometimes just advancing in a different direction

right Moses to Jerome right to others right exactly the b a d s look back to each other moses speech puts confidence back in them moses silenteed well what y'all say can i count on my people noddy shantle and tie sat together nod a hesitant yes t y e yeah man no sweat moses opens his hands gestures is this over Moses, good. Good. Glad we're sticking to the original plan. The waitress brings over the six coffees. Moses, silen teed, to group, I got a leak. Jerome, yeah, me too. Moses leaves for the restroom. Jerome follows. Shuntall, to Beth, seriously Beth. We're all leaving our loved ones behind and all you care about is if you can still get laid.

Beth, oh, that's big talk coming from you. Chantal and Beth get into it from across the table, as, T.Y. to Nottie, hey. Have you told him yet? Nottie searches to see if the other two heard, too busy arguing. Nottie, no, but. I've decided I'm going to do it tomorrow. That way I have the night to think about what I'm going to say. T.Y.E. Supportive, yeah.

No sweat. Ty locks eyes with Nottie, tries to make a connection. T.Y. E. So indeed, but, it's about time, right? Underneath the table, Ty puts a hand on Nottie's lap. Nottie reacts, ashamed. Ext. North London, Street, early morning. A chilly day on a crammed shopping street. Henry crosses the road.

He removes his headphones, stops and stares ahead. A large queue has formed outside a job center, bulked with masked people of multiple ethnicities. Henry lets out a depressing sigh. Pulls out a mask before joins the line. Beat. Now in line. Henry looks around at passing, covered up faces. Embarrassed.

Then, ping. Henry receives a text. Opens it. It's from naughty. Text reads, Hey Henry Xx sorry couldn't talk yesterday, but urgently need to talk to you today. When's best for you?

Henry pulls down his mask to type. Excitement glows on his face as he clicks away. To be continued. I had been on the apps for a few months. I was taking a proactive approach. Looking at different bios and upgrading mine as I went. I even posted it on Reddit for judgment. I knew I had to have other relationships beyond just romantic slash sexual.

It had been three years since the last time Vince invited me out with the guys. I would have given up on me too. I said yes once, met Brooke, then went back to acting like no one else was worth my time. When I made the effort to invite myself out this time I was fully prepared to get rejected. Not Vince, though, he was still just as extroverted and inviting as he was years earlier, and for some reason still likes going to Hooters. I went a few times, but finally decided that a weekly bout with XAS, exploding S syndrome, wasn't worth it and began skipping Thursday wings and instead invited Vince to be my Jimbrough.

He was always complaining about being out of shape and I had always been the tall skinny guy, I was ready to try and build a little muscle. I finally got an ideal match, for lack of a better term. Evelyn was 28, recently out of an 11-year monogamous relationship. She was beautiful and extroverted, I for some reason am drawn to these people despite my natural proclivity to the opposite. We had a lot of discussions before finally having to be. that first date. Our biggest focus was making sure we had compatibility in the type of relationships

we were looking for, as obviously we both had E&M in our profiles. She said a huge green flag for me was just my ability to have a conversation, LOL. She had weeded through so much trash just trying to find a few worthwhile matches. I over the years had pretty much the opposite experience, few matches, but the quality of those that occurred was usually high. She wanted to be in this type of lifestyle because she had only ever dated one person. She said her and her previous boyfriend simply grew apart. As the years worn on, they grew further apart. She wanted to expand her social circle, make new friends and go on adventures.

He was shrinking his social circle and preferred to have a few close friends for small typical gatherings. She said she was working up the courage do bring up the idea of an open relationship, when he ended it, citing many of the things that she felt. They were just becoming too different. I told her all about my history, no need to recap that for everyone. I broke it down into a basic statement. I mostly avoided people for 30 years, I was going to make up for lost time. With the history out of the way we talked about what we wanted out of relationships.

She said she wanted to have many casual encounters, and to just see which grew into more naturally. I told her I was looking to create bonds, whether romantic or platonic. After a week or so of messaging we decided to meet. We had a great first date, which saw my gangly ass trying to keep up with her on a bicycle. Followed by, I guess you would say, brunch. It was 10.30 in the morning on Saturday and it wasn't breakfast food. Date ended with our first kiss and I was excited to meet again.

As we parted, I asked if she wanted to meet up again that night. She told me she was seeing someone else later, but we should do something tomorrow. I had pickleball planned with Vince and two other guys from work, so I said maybe later in the week. She accepted that, and I was proud myself, old me would have definitely cancelled on the guys. I'll admit that I did feel a level of jealousy that she was going out with another guy. I sat with that thought and processed it. Obviously it's a natural reaction, it's okay to feel this way, I just found myself wondering why. We both had talked at length about how we wanted to live, and for fuck's sake we'd only been on one date.

I went to a movie that night, alone, to help keep me occupied, the next day I owned everyone on the Peeball courts. Evelyn messaged me that night and we made plans for Thursday. That would be the first time we had sex and the chemistry between us was incredibly strong. I hadn't been this smitten with someone since Brooke first cleaned up my huge beer mess. From there we hit the ground running. We were messaging daily and having one to two dates a week with each other. She had one other guy she was also seeing somewhat regularly. Over the next four months our relationship just kept progressing to more and more overnights with each other.

Her other partner had developed into mostly just a FWB situation, she said they just didn't have much in common other than good sexual chemistry. She had a couple of short hookups that ran their course pretty quick. I wasn't having any more luck with romantic partners but did make a platonic connection with a young woman co-worker. She was interested in pickleball, and with our budding friendship I finally had a partner for local co-ed tournaments. As we needed the five-month mark, I got an unexpected yet welcome proposition from Evelyn.

She asked me to be her official boyfriend. She made it clear she was not interested in changing our dynamic, she still wanted an relationship, which was good because so did I. I was invited to her families for the Easter holiday and she wanted to be able to say, this is my boyfriend. I was down because she said no one was actually religious, it was just a fun holiday in their family, barbecue, egg hunts, and coloring, and by far the best candy holiday, yeah I said it, Halloween is number two. Our relationship was rolling along nicely. We were spending three to four nights together a week at this point, I Love You, was part of the vocabulary, and I was feeling a strong level of

of compersion for her in regards to her other relationships. It helped I had a life separate from her especially since I had no other partners at this time. That's when I met partner number two, and learned this life wasn't all rainbows, butterflies, and hot sex. I had matched with Dana, a 41-year-old woman in a newly open marriage. She was very eager to get out there and meet new people, although I'm going to be honest it really came off as she was really eager to get out there and hook up. Today me would have seen all the red flags but then me was still knew to all of this. Evelyn did have an uneasy feeling about her, but at the same time wanted to be supportive of me because I had a match, which wasn't common. Today Evelyn would

not have held back her opinion. I knew Dana was playing the field, and our relationship was mostly physical, with texting some days. I did make a hierarchical decision that Evelyn was my primary and let Dana know that. She was fine with that. Over the course of six months or so she was trying to meet up with me more often, calling me her, go-to. It was It was also around this time we started to have deeper conversations, and she started sharing more about her marriage. She let me know she hasn't ever been really satisfied with their sex life during the entire fifteen years of marriage and seventeen years together, this really felt like an over-share

at the time. Dana basically came to him and suggested they open up, he was apparently extremely apprehensive. She persisted, and eventually he gave in. She hit the market hard from the word go. He didn't make an attempt until months in, but had made good effort the past couple She started to vent to me that he was making statements about wanting to close, which she was very against, and said if he just put himself out there more he'd be more successful. My morbid curiosity got to me and I asked if he had any successes at all.

She said no, and then asked me what I thought of his bio. This was not what I had planned on us doing this night, but I entertained it anyway. I said, I notice it says, physical relationship only, what's up with that? She replied, it's just our boundaries, use protection, keep each other aware of our dates, no feelings just sex, repeat partners are fine unless you get feelings then you need to end it. I said, maybe that's the problem. She said, what is? I said, well, what can he really offer? I'm not surprised he doesn't have any success, your rules have kind of created a systemic one-sided open relationship. She got really defensive, I don't know what you

mean, he has just as much opportunity as me, he just needs to put himself out there more. I, in my stupidity, replied, Not really, there's a lot of guys out there offering and looking for casual sex. The pool of women doing the same is a lot smaller. I mean, what's the oldest guys you've seen since opening? I don't want you take this the wrong way, but we are an obvious example. You're 11 years older than me. Your husband is 44 right.

And all he can offer is casual sex. How is he supposed to beat out the 25-year-olds who can offer the same thing? She got noticeably pissed off at my logic and decided to cut our time short, saying she wasn't feeling good. I wasn't sure if I'd hear from her again, and when I did, I should have ended things, but again, I was still a nub. Three days later Dana started messaging me again, wanting to meet, she was excited because her husband had a date that same night.

I agreed and things went normalish for about two more months. I did notice that she seemed more agitated as those two months progressed. Then we had the fallout. It was Evelyn and I's designated Thursday date night. We heard a knock at my apartment door which was weird. I looked, saw Dana, and when I opened the door she came barreling in a total mess. We managed to calm her down and ask what was wrong. She told us her husband was going to leave her.

I responded with, I'm really sorry to hear that, but don't you have sister or something that would be better to talk to? She completely ignored my statement and just started spilling the details. Well, that date he had gotten two months earlier, it worked out for him. Their relationship had been growing week by week, when Dana asked him if he had feelings. He admitted he did. She told him per their agreement he needed to end the relationship, they fought and he agreed to end things.

But that didn't happen, he continued to see her, and when confronted told her that he'd rather end their marriage than his relationship with this woman. Now she was here in my apartment interrupting date night. We talked her down off the edge and told her she needed to either go home or go somewhere else. She got angry at me, and Evelyn stepped in and told her she needed to get out. I backed Evelyn up and Dana left in a huff. I apologized to Evelyn profusely, but she just said, don't worry, one of us was bound to have something like this happen eventually. Dana tried calling me later on and I messaged her that her behavior earlier was unacceptable. Then let her

know that I would not be meeting with her ever again. At that point I blocked her. I didn't hear from her again. However, after a year my curiosity got the better of me and I stalked her socials with a burner account. I learned she did end up divorced, and was now engaged to someone else. This was definitely a learning experience for me. Evelyn and I ended up moving in together shortly after that. I was happy to have her as my nesting partner, and once again my only partner. I was at the point where I was ready to put dating on the back burner after the Dana a situation. I had resolved myself that Evelyn and my ever-growing platonic friends group were going to be my priority for the foreseeable future. I told myself that on a Tuesday while Evelyn was

out on a date, the next morning, I woke up next to her, I must have been tired because I don't remember her coming in. I asked her how her night was, she said to me, I want to go to desires next month, can you make that happen? Yeah, babe, I can make that happen. I used to work in a medical procedures unit in a hospital in the Pacific Northwest. It was a typical job, long hours, lots of patients coming in for endoscopic exams, the usual controlled chaos of a hospital setting. Most of the time, it was routine. Patients would come in, get sedated, have their procedure, and leave. Nothing too exciting, nothing too memorable. But every now and then, you get a case that stuck with you. And this? This was one of those cases. We had an elderly gentleman scheduled

for an upper endoscopy that day. He looked like any other patient, frail but sharp-eyed, the kind of guy who had stories to tell if you had the time to listen. While we waited for the doctor to arrive, we made small talk. He was friendly, polite, a little gruff but in a way that made him seem more endearing than intimidating. Then the doctor walked in. And the first thing out of his mouth wasn't his usual, how are we doing today, or ready

for your procedure? Instead, he looked right at us and said, did he tell you his history? I assumed he meant the medical kind, so I started listing off the usual stuff, why he was having the procedure, any relevant conditions. But the doctor cut me off. No, his past work history. He was an undercover FBI agent in the mob. That got my attention.

Oh, I said, processing. That must have been, interesting. Dealing with those mob guys. The patient chuckled, but then his face darkened. He looked me dead in the eyes and said something that still sends chills down my spine to this day. Those guys weren't as bad as those motherfucking politicians. It was the way he said it, calm, certain, like he had seen things the rest of us couldn't even begin to imagine. And then he told us a story. Back in the 80s, he said, he had been

in charge of security for a congressional event. He didn't get into specifics, but the way he spoke made it clear that this wasn't just some random dinner party. It was important. High profile. The kind of place where powerful people whispered in dark corners and made deals that never saw the light of day. At some point during the event, another agent approached him and handed him a phone. Congressman wants to speak with you, the agent said. He put the phone to his ear. The conversation went like this, Congressman, will there be women there? Agent, not sure what you mean, but yes, women are here. Congressman, when I arrive, I want one sent to my room. No older than 13. Right after those words left his

mouth, the CRNA, certified registered nurse and esthetist, pushed the meds, and the patient drifted off into unconsciousness. The room went completely silent. We all just stood there, looking at each other, trying to process what the hell we had just heard. No one said a word. It was like we were all collectively trying to decide if we had imagined it. But we hadn't. We knew what we heard. And then, just like that, the procedure went on as if nothing had happened. Later, when the patient was in recovery, I kept replaying his words in my head. The way he said it's so matter-of-factly, like it was just another story from a long career. No hesitation.

No embellishment. Just a cold, hard fact. Did he have any reason to lie? I don't think so. He didn't even bring it up, the doctor did. And when he told the story, he wasn't trying to impress us. If anything, he seemed tired. like he had carried this weight for decades, and it had worn him down.

Some people might say, oh, he was just some old guy, probably making stuff up. But the way he spoke. I don't think he was lying. At all. This wasn't a conspiracy theory. This wasn't some internet rumor. This was a man who had been in the thick of it, who had seen things firsthand. And what he had seen?

It was worse than the mob. Worse than anything we could probably imagine. Now, I know people are going to nitpick the details. So let me clear some things up. Yes, the procedure was an EGD, isophagostrogasmodoidoscopi. Yes, it was performed by a surgeon doing post-op surveillance, not a gastroenterologist. Yes, elite pedophile rings exist. They always have.

That's not up for debate. And no, this isn't about politics. I don't care what side anyone is on. This isn't about left or right. This is about power. The kind of power that lets monsters walk free while everyone else looks the other way. For the people saying, the FBI doesn't do security for Congress, let me ask you this, are you 100% sure?

Are you assuming you know every single role an agent might have played in his long career? Because I don't think you do. I certainly don't. And that's the thing, we don't know. But what I do know is this, that old man wasn't looking for attention. He wasn't spinning a wild tail. He was just, telling the truth. And that truth?

It was terrifying. So I'll leave you with this. If a retired undercover FBI agent says that politicians are worse than the mob, maybe we should start listening. When Stephen and his family first moved into the big old house on Meridian Avenue, he felt uneasy. The basement, where he was supposed to sleep, wasn't exactly warm or inviting, it felt downright sinister. For the first few days, he managed to stay down there by himself, even though strange noises echoed through the darkness and shadows danced along the walls. Eventually, though, Stephen couldn't take it anymore. The odd sensations and cold drafts that never seemed to fade

just got too intense. Finally, he told his parents he needed to sleep upstairs with his brother. But that didn't go smoothly either. His brother's room was tiny, so to make it work, they dragged the bed from Stephen's room upstairs down to the basement and tried setting up together there. His parents, Carmen and Alan, thought this arrangement might help him get used to the new house. However, one night, Carmen and Alan were jolted awake by the boys' terrified screams. The kids were hysterical. They insisted they'd seen three men standing by the dresser at the foot of their beds, whispering among themselves in low, incomprehensible voices. One of them was wearing a hat, they said, and the men were intensely focused on something,

as if they were negotiating some dark deal. When the boys dared to sit up, the men turned around and looked straight into their eyes. Alan was certain someone must have broken in. He grabbed a flashlight, checked every corner, and searched every room. But there was no one there, not even a sign of forced entry. All he found was a chilling cold that seemed to seep into his bones. It felt like something more than just an empty house. In the days that followed, strange things started happening.

Items disappeared constantly, house keys, car keys, wallets, small but essential things. And it wasn't just the adults feeling on edge. Carmen began noticing something almost every time she went about her day. She could swear she'd hear whispers, like someone was calling her name or humming a tune. Sometimes she'd see shadows dart past her, but when she turned to look, no one was there. One morning, Carmen had everything set out in the kitchen to bake cookies. She measured out the flour, the sugar, the butter, carefully arranging everything on the counter. She turned away for just a moment to preheat the oven, and when she looked back, the counter

was spotless, like she'd never taken anything out at all. The bowls were clean, the counter gleamed, and the ingredients were back in the cupboards, untouched. It was as if the entire scene had been erased. Carmen was spooked but tried to brush it off, thinking she'd just lost track of what she was doing. But it only got worse. One day, while mopping the floor, she noticed the water in the bucket had turned a strange, murky red. She stared at it, horrified, because the floor hadn't been particularly dirty.

Yet the water looked disturbingly like blood. She checked the linoleum, but there was no stain, no source for the red color. Anxiety started to creep into her mind, and she began questioning her own sanity. Though unsettling, daytime incidents were nothing compared to what happened after dark. The house took on a more ominous presence at night. The children were the first to notice shadows, human-like shapes moving in the corners of their vision, sounds of weeping were music that seemed to come from nowhere. They even felt icy fingers brushing against them from beneath the covers. Things soon escalated to the parents.

Carmen and Alan started waking up to the bed shaking at exactly 3 a.m. Their bedroom door would slam shut on its own, the sudden noise jarring them awake night after night. Whatever was lurking in the house seemed to be growing in strength and frequency, feeding off the family's fear. And just when they thought they'd seen it all, that shadows they had spotted earlier began appearing in more tangible forms. At first, they were just dark, misty shapes flitting through the hallways, but soon they became distinct figures.

The family saw a revolving cast of apparitions, from indistinct silhouettes to full-bodied apparitions. Three particular figures appeared most frequently, an elderly man with gray hair, a pale woman with long dark hair, and a young boy dressed in a Superman costume. The presence of the little boy hit especially hard after they learned he had died in a car accident years ago and had been dressed in his favorite Superman's suit for the funeral. Carmen and Alan felt trapped. Moving wasn't an option, they'd chosen the house because Stephen needed medical treatment,

and relocating would mean returning to grueling travel and hospital visits. They were devoted Christians, and their faith was a source of strength. They convinced themselves that God would protect them from harm, reassuring each other that the spirits couldn't truly hurt them. Then Carmen's sister reached out, desperately asking if Carmen could take care of her two daughters during a rough divorce. Carmen agreed, bringing her nieces into a home already strained by its eerie inhabitants. Almost immediately, their electric bill skyrocketed.

Alan, frustrated and trying to save costs, decided to start unscrewing light bulbs in rooms they didn't use. But the strangest thing happened, even with the bulbs removed, the lights would flicker on by themselves. They glowed in empty sockets, making it clear the family wasn't alone. Meanwhile, Stephen's behavior began to shift dramatically. He isolated himself in the basement, refusing to let his brother sleep there anymore, and spent hours with his headphones on, blasting music to drown out the voices he said wouldn't leave him alone.

He started wearing all black, painting inverted crosses on his walls, and talking to himself, muttering about making a deal with the voices that plagued him. One night, things took a tragic turn when the family woke to their nieces screaming. Stephen had attempted to harm the younger girl, and Alan restrained him until the police arrived. Stephen was taken to a psychiatric facility, where he stayed for weeks as doctors evaluated him for possible schizophrenia. But even after Stephen left, the house didn't calm down, it grew more hostile. Invisible forces started tormenting the family in unimaginable ways, attacking both Carmen and the youngest niece while they slept. Carmen was even assaulted one day while she was in the shower, caught off guard by an invisible presence that trapped her in the

shower curtain. No one was safe, not Alan, not even the children. Bruises and scratches appeared on their bodies, and eventually, even Alan, who had clung to rational explanations, started to believe something evil was targeting them. Desperate, they turned to the church. But the local priest dismissed them, telling them that only the unfaithful suffered demonic attacks. Finally, after weeks of pleading, they convinced him to bless the house. Unfortunately, it had no effect, and the spirit seemed to great. Rowe Boulder. One day, a neighbor stopped by with a newspaper under her arm.

She quietly pointed to an article about Ed and Lorraine Warren, paranormal investigators known for helping families haunted by spirits. The neighbor admitted she'd seen strange figures in the family's windows since they'd moved in and suggested they reach out to the Warren's. The Warrens agreed to take on the case and arrived with a seven-member team. Lorraine conducted a walk-through of the house, feeling an intense sense of dread as she moved through each room. The basement was particularly oppressive, and Lorraine sensed a dark, malevolent entity lurking there, something evil and ancient. Over the next two months,

they documented everything, objects flinging across rooms, voices whispering threats, even physical attacks on the team. By the end of their investigation, only two team members were still willing to stay. The Warren's uncovered unsettling records linking the house to a former mortuary worker who had allegedly been dismissed after being caught defiling corpses. This discovery made it clear that whatever was haunting the family wasn't just a spirit, it was something far darker. In the end, the Warrens urged the church to perform an exorcism, which the church reluctantly agreed to. But by that time, the family had reached their breaking point. They decided to leave the house, choosing their sanity and safety over staying in a place

where every corner held a painful memory. Stephen had finished his treatments, so the timing was right. As they packed their belongings and drove away, they left behind a house filled with their pain, their fear, and a presence that no amount of prayer or exorcism could drive away. Years later, Stephen would marry and start a family, but his life was cut short when his cancer returned in 2012. He left behind a legacy of resilience, but the memory of what they had experienced in that house never truly faded. Would you, knowing all of this, be willing to live in a place that had once been a mortuary? This story, though fictionalized, taps into the unsettling idea of what happens when a house holds onto its past occupants, or some

something even darker. The real horror is the question it leaves us with, was it the house, or something already lurking in the family, waiting for the right moment to strike? I linked the full story of my failed marriage above if you want more background. I had been officially divorced for five to six weeks, separated for five to six months. When my ex-wife contacted me. I thought I was ready for that, I wasn't. When she did, I asked for space.

I really didn't know what we were getting at. Honestly, if I had any success in my dating life over that time I probably wouldn't have entertained the conversation. By time we finally talked, it had been over a week. It began with just some really surface level stuff. She had stated that she missed me and was finally beginning to see my perspective on our problems. Initially, I didn't really know how to take that. I decided I wasn't going to be the first to talk.

I had talked a lot at the end of our marriage and was met with stonewalling, gaslighting, minimizing. I was more interested if she really had come to a revelation. It wasn't until the third day that we finally had a real deep conversation. She came out and told me, I realized we didn't end up divorced because of a lack of BJ's or doggy style, it was a lack of effort on my part. She admitted that she focused on that so much during our last months, and felt offended. She told herself I was an asshole for implying I owned her body or was owed it. She kept this narrative to herself because she didn't want to face what I was really saying.

Now that it was over, and the trauma of Kristen's wedding was fresh, it was like a fog had evaporated. She told me she started to realize how slow the progression happened. It started before we even met. She was closing in on graduation, and thought to herself it was time to stop playing around. She always had a thing for the shy, quiet type, and I walked into her life at the right time. She wanted me to know that she really did love me, this wasn't a thing of her settling. I appreciated that and took it as sincere. We went back to talking about the imbalance in our relationship, and she stated she inadvertently

took advantage of my inexperience. If she had a bad day, I'd do little more. If she was feeling stressed about something, I'd pick up slack where I could. Then that would continue. It took time, but before she knew it I was doing 75 to 80% of the stuff around the house, I wasn't going out with my friends or even getting on the games, I was only doing things with her or her friends. The thing was she admitted that at the time, she was blind to this.

all the way up to the point that it became the norm. I then asked about the physical side of the relationship. The reasoning didn't make me feel better, but at least it was there. Brooke told me a story of how when she was heading off to college her mother told her, I'm not naive, so I'm going to give you some advice, have your fun now, be safe, but get it out of your system. Then find you somebody, but when you do you start acting like a wife from day one? I said, are you fucking kidding me, that's the dumbest advice I've ever heard.

She realizes that more now, she even thought that at the time she got it, but after meeting me, and the obvious lack of relationship experience I had, it kind of crept into her. She thought, I need to take it slow with him, not scare him off, minimize my experience. Then just like the other aspects of our life, it grew into complacency. I was feeling good about this conversation, I knew we had a lot more to discuss, but it was going in the right direction, maybe there was something that could be revived. Then she asked me about my dating life, after I answered she seemed like a lot of she regretted the question. Probably because she knew it was going to be asked back.

I hadn't heard much about the wedding up to that point other than it was a disaster, her and Kristen were no longer friends, and she didn't want to talk about it. When it got to the part about Chris, it was hard to hear. I did ask how she behaved during this week and she said, uninhibited. It wasn't a deal-breaker, but I once again needed time to process and evaluate my own feelings. I thought I had my mind ready, but the conversation was short as she wasted no time letting me know about the pregnancy. That was a deal breaker. We both knew it was done at that point. I told her goodbye for the last time. Two weeks went by and I was still evaluating my life. I was

about to turn 30 and didn't want my next 30 years to resemble my first 30. I had been doing the hard emotional work, learning about communication, and relationships for over a year at this point. I had given up every relationship I had, at every step, my whole life. I gave up my friends, all of them, after the pool incident. I made a few new ones, then didn't keep in touch after I left for college, I did the same thing again when college ended. I finally said yes to going out with my coworkers, only to cut them when Brooke came into my life. Now she was gone to, and the only meaningful relationship I still had was with my parents.

This is what I needed. I needed to connect with people. I didn't feel the fear and insecurity I had always had. It was time to take real steps. To build real connections, whether that be romantically or just friends. I had to admit to myself that ever since my therapist gave me that book on E&M, it had been sitting in my mind, just occupying a spot in the back. I made the decision this was my new path.

I did some research and put my app focus into Tinder, OKCupid and field. It took months to get a meaningful match, I kept improving myself in that time. It was worth the weight as it all set me on a life path that just a few years earlier would have been impossible. We went to Pearl, it was a really good time. Leading up Evelyn said she had been fantasizing about seeing me with others. I hadn't really had that same fantasy, obviously I knew she was with others, but I was just indifferent about the actual act.

My compersion came in seeing her happy and being able to be herself. We went into it planning on swinging for the first time. I was excited but nervous about performance anxiety. All my fears were short-lived, and we relaxed into the atmosphere pretty quick on the first day. We did connect with a couple. We were kind of worried our pool would be small, Evelyn is a strictly straight woman, and has no interest in playing with other women, so we did have some worry we would be the odd ducks knowing that, that is pretty common in the lifestyle.

Our worries were quickly proven to be unfounded. We spent a good portion of the week hanging with Jason and Erica. We full swap twice with them, which Evelyn loved and I thoroughly enjoyed. Evelyn even commented how I had this, kid on Christmas, look on my face when we got to the room later. I said, I think you forget that Erica, was only my fourth ever. She laughed and in a cutesy teasing way said, Oh, sweetie, I forget you don't have as much sex as I do, we should have gotten a picture for the scrapbook. I told her, very funny.

It was quite the revitalizing trip, most of time we spent getting physical with just each other. Evelyn had one solo hookup on day for when I drank way too much and told her to, enjoy the night, alone because I was going to sleep it off. We got back from the trip, and had a discussion about including swinging in our lives whenever it fit. I agreed completely, it was much easier meeting a play partner when my GF was doing the finding LOL. Over the next 2.5 years our lives rolled on. We bought a house together and tossed around the marriage talk. Her prior partners all kind of moved on over time, and she was dating less. I was still hanging with friends when possible. I swore I wasn't going to let friendships lapse

and I was doing my best to stick to that, even if the frequency was less. I had made a LDR, long-distance relationship, that started online, we would meet two to four times a year depending on her work travel schedule. I went on a conference trip, and hooked up with woman I met in the wild. When I got back, Evelyn made me a big cupcake that said, first on S, and then took a picture, for the scrapbook. She is such a smart ass. We swung here and there, and all in all had really good experiences with it. Except for one couple. I was making our online connection this time.

I met this couple that seemed a good fit. Evelyn joined the conversation later and agreed they were our vibe. We talked boundaries, let them know Evelyn wasn't by, we were full swap, and all that. They asked if we could do separate room, we didn't normally, but had before so we said yes. They seemed excited and agreed to all the boundaries. We met and had dinner, and got along great. They matched their pictures. We invited them back to our place for some fun.

The plan was Evelyn would take hubby into the spare room, while Wifi and I took the couch. The Wifi seemed to be stalling, asking for another drink, asking random questions about the house for some reason, then she said she needed to use the bathroom even though she just went before we split up. She went down the hall and I waited. I heard a call from down the hall. I ran down to the spare room. Wifie was in there.

Evelyn was fine but seemed confused, she said, are you really tapped out already? I was like, no, we haven't even started yet. I guess Wifi had come down and said I was tapped and wanted to join. Evelyn said no, she not interested in women, and then called for me as it sounded far-fetched. I annoyedly said, really, you two are wife poachers. And desperate wife poachers at that.

Bobby got pissed and said they weren't. I said, yeah you are, and dumb ones, we were very clear up front about what we were up for. Wifi chimed in, I just wasn't sure if you were interested, so I thought maybe we could just pay attention to her, she didn't have to touch me. I was really annoyed now, wasn't sure I was interested, you want me to tie a little flag to my heart on next time. What am I saying? There won't be a next time.

Okay, let me put this nicely. Evelyn interjected, you two fuckers need to get out of it. our house right now." Me, yeah, what she said. They huffed, gruffed, got dressed and left. After this we took some time off from extracurriculars. Evelyn was between partners and logged out of her apps for the time, I was only seeing my LDR, and that was one night every two to six months.

It was about a year of being 99% just us that I proposed. She said yes immediately and we agreed a quick courthouse wedding, and putting all our money on the honeymoon was way more fun. We began our honeymoon in New Orleans. We mostly did touristy trips and messed up the hotel bed. Evelyn said since we were here we had to check out Colette. I was down. We hadn't played in forever. We're enjoying ourselves when Evelyn bumps me and yells in my ear, isn't that your ex-wife? I look at where she's pointing and sure enough there is Brooke. Chris walks up to her a moment later and hands her a drink. Our eyes meet, and I think we both had the most WTF moment of our lives.

Part 4. I had not seen this woman in five years. I'm at Swinger Club in New Orleans a 1,000 miles from home, and there is my ex-wife, wearing a dress that would barely cover my left leg. I hadn't seen her in anything that revealing since she quit Hooters. I think I did a triple take. She was looking back at me with an equally shocked face. Then all four of us began slowly walking towards one another. It began with an awkward hug and a handshake for,

Chris. I introduced Evelyn, it felt good to be able to say, this is my wife. We all made some small talk about the place. They shared this was their first time at a place like this, and first attempt at taking their bedroom life, out of their own bedroom. We said it was our first time in a club as well, but we had been enjoying the lifestyle for a few years. There were some awkward pauses and it seemed like Brooke wanted to say something to me. Evelyn finally piped up and said, Chris, I see your drink is almost empty, let me get you another one so these two can have their five-year-old conversation. He just said, Oh, my God, thank you, if the awkward tension got any worse I was going to start break

dancing. Like that they turned and headed off. Brooke turned to me, you look really good. I said, you too. She then began, I am still really sorry, when I got back from that wedding I just wanted you back, I came to realize how bad I treated you during our marriage. I looked down down at her, it's all water under the bridge now, you got me out of my shell when I was ready to be alone forever, so I thank you for that, and in a weird way without me going to therapy for the problems we had, I wouldn't have the life I have now. We endured one more awkward hug, and our spouses came back over. We all parted ways for a while.

Evelyn looked at me, so what's the plan? I said, well it's a night with single guys, you want to try and make your MFM fantasy a reality. She got really excited kissed me and said, you're the best. She went out and found another married guy whose wife was off doing her own thing. As we partook I noticed Brooke and Chris had come in and were watching. When the other guy was tapped out, Evelyn and I went out to get some drinks. She went to the bathroom and Brooke came over again to talk. She told me her and Chris talked.

He thinks Evelyn is amazing and would be up for swap if we were. I said, and you? She said, I thought we could get, um, closure. I looked at her, she was still stunning. and said, I appreciate the offer but not a chance in hell. Then I laughed, she laughed too, and said, Ouch, rejected, I guess I know how it feels now. We parted ways with a quick hug.

Evelyn and I went back to the hotel. We all became social media friends afterwards, but no real interactions outside of happy B-day messages. Brooke and Chris are still together and have two kids now. Evelyn and I are still together a decade later. We take our open relationship pretty casually, neither pursuing just indulging when the opportunity presents. We still hit the occasional club or resort.

I, however, did have to endure my greatest and most devastating breakup during this time. After years of dominance on the co-ed pickleball courts my partner dumped me for her new boyfriend, my buddy Vince. We still both lament the loss, though. Me because Evelyn absolutely refuses to play, and her because Vince is just terrible. It's 3.19 a.m., and a frantic phone call breaks the quiet of the Silverwood's residential estate in Pretoria, South Africa, a gated community known for its exclusivity and top-notch security. On the line is a hysterical Oscar Pistorius, pleading incoherently with his neighbor Johann Stander. Between sobs and panicked gasps, he explains that he shot someone, his girlfriend,

Riva Steencamp, thinking she was an intruder. Stander, confused and alarmed, rushes over to find a grim scene, Riva critically wounded, her injuries far beyond a simple gunshot. The events of February 14, 2013, would forever change the lives of those involved and ignite a media frenzy, unraveling not just a tragic event, but also the complex life of a celebrated athlete and the woman who lost her life. To understand this night, we must dive deeper into the life of Oscar Pistorius, a man revered as a hero but who carried his share of controversies, and Riva Steencamp, a woman whose light was extinguished far too soon. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the making of a legend. Oscar Leonard Carl Pistorius was born on November 22, 1986, in Santon, Johannesburg.

The middle child of Sheila and Hinky Pistorius, Oscar entered the world with fibular hemimilia, a condition where both fibulae were missing. After months of agonizing decisions, his parents opted for a double amputation below the knee when he was just 11 months old. Despite his disability, Oscar's childhood was marked by determination and an unyielding drive to compete. He thrived in a Christian household where his mother, Sheila, was his anchor, encouraging him to never see himself as different from anyone else. His energy and resilience found outlets in sports, from rugby and water polo to tennis. With the help of basic prosthetics, he competed fiercely, earning respect for his athletic prowess.

Coaches and peers marveled at how he didn't just keep up, he often excelled. But tragedy struck when Oscar was just 15 years old. His beloved mother passed away, leaving a void that he filled with an intense dedication to sports. Initially, rugby was his passion, but a knee injury in 2003 shifted his focus to athletics. By January 2004, Oscar was sprinting, but his basic prosthetics weren't suited for running. With the help of engineers, he was fitted with custom blades designed for speed. These blades became his signature, a symbol of triumph and controversy. Oscar's rise in the world of athletics was meteoric.

He earned gold medals at the 2004 Paralympics in Athens and shattered records in Beijing in 2008. By 2011, he was a national hero, defying odds and representing South Africa on a global stage. His determination to compete against able-bodied athletes culminated in a historic moment at the 2012 Olympics, where he became the first double amputee sprinter to compete in the games. But Oscar's success wasn't without setbacks. Controversy surrounded his prosthetics, with critics claiming they gave him. an unfair advantage. Studies showed conflicting results, but debates about his Blade Runner, fame persisted. On the track, his competitive spirit occasionally bordered on unsportsmanlike, as seen when he accused a rival of using too long prosthetics after a loss. Off the track, whispers

of a darker side began to surface. Hashtag hashtag a complex personal life. Oscar's public persona was one of resilience and charisma, but glimpses of another side occasionally emerged. He was a gun enthusiast, owning multiple firearms and reportedly firing a gun under questionable circumstances at least twice. Friends and acquaintances described him as intense and occasionally erratic, with a temper that flared in moments of frustration. In 2009, he was involved in a domestic incident that raised eyebrows. At a party, an argument escalated after he allegedly kissed another woman in front of his girlfriend. A heated exchange followed, culminating in Oscar slamming a door so hard it shattered, injuring some someone nearby. Incidents like these painted a picture of a man whose personal life was not

as polished as his public image. Despite these red flags, Oscar was frequently seen with beautiful, high-profile women. In late 2012, he began dating Riva Steencamp, a model, television personality, and aspiring lawyer. Riva was everything Oscar seemed to admire, strong, independent, and deeply passionate about her advocacy for women's rights. Though their relationship was relatively new, Reva often spent nights at Oscars home. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the vibrant life of Reva Steencamp. Born on August 19, 1983, in Cape Town, Reva Rebecca Steencamp grew up in a loving household,

known for her adventure spirit and warm personality. A bright student, she earned her law degree in 2005 and worked as a legal assistant while pursuing modeling on the side. Her stunning looks and charm quickly catapulted her into the spotlight, appearing in magazines, commercials, and television shows. But Riva was more than a pretty face. She was a vocal advocate against gender-based violence, using her platform to speak out on issues close to her heart.

She dreamed of making a difference, not just through her career in law, but also by inspiring young women to believe in themselves. Hashtag hashtag Valentine's Day tragedy, the evening of February 13th, 2013, seemed uneventful. Reva sent a message to her housemates, explaining that she'd stay the night at Oscars because it was late. The couple retreated to Oscar's luxurious home, a fortress-like property within the Silver Woods estate. What happened in the early hours of February 14th is a matter of intense scrutiny and debate. Neighbors later reported hearing loud voices, followed by gunshots.

At 3.19 a.m., Oscar called stander, and soon after, emergency services were contacted. When paramedics arrived, it was too late. Reva had been shot multiple times, injuries that proved fatal. Oscar's version of events was that he mistook Riva for an intruder, firing through a locked bathroom door in a state of panic. The prosecution, however, painted a darker picture, alleging that an argument had escalated to violence. The trial that followed became a global spectacle, with every detail of their relationship and the fateful night dissected in courtrooms and the media. Hashtag hashtag a nation divided, the trial revealed the complexities of Oscar's personality. Witnesses described a man who was both charming

volatile, deeply driven but also deeply flawed. The court examined everything from his behavior during previous incidents to the specifics of the shooting, trying to determine whether this was a tragic mistake or a calculated act. In 2014, Oscar was found guilty of culpable homicide, a verdict that many saw as too lenient. After appeals and further legal battles, he was eventually convicted of murder in 2016 and sentenced to six years in prison, later increased to 13 years. Hashtag hashtag hashtag legacy of a tragedy. The story of Oscar Pistorius and Riva Steencamp remains one of the most compelling tragedies of modern sports history. It's a tale of ambition, love, and the darker shadows that often go unseen. For Reva's family, her loss is a wound that

time cannot heal, but her legacy lives on through the causes she championed. For Oscar, the man once hailed as a symbol of perseverance now serves as a cautionary tale about the perils of unchecked ambition and unresolved inner demons. The early morning tragedy, it's 3.19 a.m. on February 14th, and Johann Stander, neighbor to Oscar Pistorius, is jolted awake by a call. On the other end, a distressed Oscar pleads for help. The Paralympian claims to have mistaken his girlfriend, Riva Steencamp, for an intruder and, terrified, shot her multiple times. Johann and his daughter rushed to Oscar's house, only to find a scene far worse than they imagined. Riva is unresponsive, drenched in blood.

The staircase leading to where she lies tells its own grim story, marked by blood trails. Johan immediately calls emergency services. When paramedics and police arrive, they find Oscar inconsolable, repeating over and over that it was all a tragic mistake, that he thought Riva was an intruder. What followed was Oscar's account of that night, but it raised more questions than it answered. Hashtag hashtag-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-asker's version of events. According to Oscar, February 13th was an ordinary day. He and Riva had dinner around 7 p.m. and went to bed between 9 and 10.

But in the early hours, Oscar claimed he was startled by strange noises. Half asleep, he noticed the fan still running and got up to turn them off. Without his prosthetics, he felt vulnerable and uneasy. That's when he allegedly heard sounds from the bathroom. Whispering to Riva to call the police, he grabbed his gun, firing multiple shots at the bathroom door. Then, in the eerie silence that followed, he turned back to find the bed empty. Panic set in. What if Riva had been the one in the bathroom?

He tried opening the door, but it was locked. Rushing to put on his prosthetics, he grabbed a cricket bat to break the door down. Inside, he found Riva slumped over, gravely injured. In his frantic state, he carried her downstairs, attempted first aid, and called Johann for help. But Oscar's explanation wasn't holding up. Questions immediately arose, why hadn't he checked if Riva was in bed? Why did he shoot without verifying who was behind the door? And the autopsy report made things even murkier. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the evidence that didn't add up. The autopsy revealed troubling details. One, bruises on Riva's body, these marks on her back and

head suggested she had been struck with a hard object, possibly a cricket bat. Two, her clothing, Riva wasn't in pajamas but dressed in casual, daytime clothes. Three, bullet wounds, Riva had three gunshot injuries, one to her hip, one to her arm, and a fatal one to her head. Four, the trajectory of the bullets, the shots had passed through the bathroom door before hitting Riva. Five, stomach contents, the autopsy found undigested food, indicating she had eaten around 1 a.m. hours after Oscar claimed they had dinner. Six, the ammunition, the bullets used were designed to expand upon impact. act, causing maximum damage.

This wasn't a weapon someone used to scare off an intruder, it was meant to kill. These findings poked holes in Oscar's narrative. The most damning detail. The bullets. Experts testified that anyone using such ammunition would know the devastation they could cause. This wasn't an act of self-defense, it was a deliberate attempt to kill. Hashtag hashtag Oscar's arrest and the start of the trial. On February 15, 2013, Oscar was arrested in charge.

charged with Riva's murder. The courtroom battle began on February 19, with both the defense and prosecution laying out their cases. Oscar was granted bail after four days in custody and, astonishingly, resumed his training routine while awaiting trial. In March, he was even allowed to travel for competitions. The trial officially began on March 3, 2014, at Pretoria's High Court. Oscar's defense team painted him as a man plagued by anxiety, heightened by his physical disability. They claimed his fear of intruders was amplified by South Africa's high crime rates and that his response to the noises that night was a panic-driven mistake. But the prosecution came prepared, armed with evidence and witnesses that told a far darker story.

Hashtag hashtag hashtag the dark side of Oscar Pistorius. To undermine the defense's portrayal of Oscar as a vulnerable and anxious man, the prosecution delved into his past. One, his obsession with guns, friends and ex-girlfriends described him as reckless and trigger-happy. In 2012, he allegedly fired a gun through the roof of a moving car. In 2013, he accidentally fired a gun in a restaurant and convinced a friend to take the blame. Two, toxic relationships, text messages between Oscar and Riva painted a picture of a volatile romance. In one message, Riva expressed her fear of him, saying, Asterisk, sometimes I'm scared of you and how you react to me.

Asterisk another revealed how his jealousy and possessiveness caused frequent fights. 3. The ammunition, the bullets used were so destructive that experts concluded Oscar fired with full knowledge of their lethal potential. 4. Forensics, the angles of the gunshots and the bat strikes didn't align with Oscar's version of events. The evidence suggested he was wearing his prosthetics when he fired the shots, contradicting his claim of feeling defenseless. 5. Witness testimonies, neighbors reported hearing loud arguments from Oscar's house that night. One witness, Steam Camp's neighbor, claimed the shouting went on for near.

nearly an hour before the gunshots rang out. Hashtag hashtag hashtag what really happened. The prosecution's theory asterisk asterisk. The prosecution argued that the couple had a heated argument that escalated to violence. At some point, Oscar allegedly struck Riva with the cricket bat, leaving her terrified. Seeking refuge, she locked herself in the bathroom. But Oscar, consumed by rage, retrieved his gun and fired through the door, knowing she was inside. The evidence supported this timeline.

The bruises on Riva's body matched the bat, and the gunshot angles indicated Oscar was standing upright, likely wearing his prosthetics. This wasn't a case of mistaken identity or a panicked homeowner. It was murder. Hashtag hashtag hashtag the verdict and aftermath. The trial was a spectacle, filled with dramatic moments. Oscar broke down in court multiple times, and his defense team argued tirelessly that his actions were driven by fear, not malice. But the evidence was damning. On October 15, 2014, the initial verdict was delivered, culpable homicide.

Oscar was sentenced to five years in prison, sparking outrage. Critics argued the sentence was far too lenient for someone who knowingly fired lethal bullets at another person. The prosecution appealed, and in July 2016, the conviction was upgraded to murder, with a six-year sentence. But the legal battles didn't end there. In 2018, South Africa's Supreme Court increased the sentence to 15. years, with time already served deducted. As of now, Oscar remains in prison, but he could be eligible for parole soon. Hashtag hashtag hashtag was justice served. Oscar Pistorius's case has sparked endless debate. Was he a man crippled by fear, making a tragic mistake in the heat of the

moment? Or was he an enraged lover who killed Riva in a fit of jealousy? The evidence seems to lean heavily toward the latter. Ultimately, the justice system delivered a sentence, but public opinion remains divided. What do you think? Was justice truly served? Hey everyone. Today, we're diving into the real story behind the haunting in Connecticut movie, and trust me, the actual events are way scarier than what Hollywood showed us. Buckle up, because this isn't just any haunting tale, it's one based on real-life terror that happened to an ordinary family just trying to get by. It all starts like a classic love story. In 1979, Carmen was working as a waitress at a roadside bar in New York when she met Alan Snedeker, a hardworking guy who spent his days at a stone quarry.

Sparks flew, and in a few short months, they were married. With Carmen's two kids from a previous marriage, they settled into a small New York apartment, happy with their life together. Before long, their family grew with the arrival of little Stephanie, and Carmen decided to leave her job to focus on raising her three children. Life seemed perfect, even though Alan's paycheck was the only one keeping them afloat. They weren't wealthy, but they managed. However, in 1986, everything changed. Carmen's oldest son, Stephen, who was only 13, started experiencing extreme fatigue and regular bouts of sickness. At first, Carmen thought it was just the flu. But one morning, she noticed a strange lump on the left side of his jaw. This was no ordinary flu. She rushed him

to the doctor, who ran some tests and biopsies. The diagnosis. Hodgkin's lymphoma, a type of cancer affecting the immune system. This was a terrifying blow to the family, and Stephen's treatment was going to be intense. At that time, the only place where Stephen could receive the kind of specialized treatment he needed was nearly 300 miles away at the John Dempsey Hospital in Connecticut. Initially, the family tried to make it work with long car rides back and forth, but these trips were tough on Stephen. He'd spend the journey exhausted, sick, and in pain, sometimes having to stay overnight in cheap motels just to rest. Carmen couldn't stand seeing her son suffer,

and eventually, she made a tough decision, they'd move closer to the hospital, at least until Stephen got better. While in Connecticut, Carmen began looking for a place to rent. One day, she came across a beautiful, colonial-style house. It had a huge yard and big windows, and it was in a historic neighborhood in Hartford. It seemed perfect for them. When she saw a for rent sign, she decided to check it out, even though she thought it might be way out of their price range. She walked up, rang the bell, and, although the owner wasn't there,

one of the construction workers who was renovating the place gave her the landlord's number. That night, she called him. To her surprise, the rent was affordable, so she didn't think twice and took the place. Without even touring the inside, she decided this would be their new house. home, hoping it would bring a fresh start for Stephen and the family. The Snedekers moved in on June 30, 1986. Before letting the kids into the house, Carmen and Alan decided to walk through it on their own to get a feel for it. As they entered, they noticed something strange, there were crosses over each doorway. This was a little creepy, but they brushed it off,

assuming the previous owners must have been very religious. As they continued exploring, they made mental notes of where they'd placed the furniture, checking out the layout, the bedrooms, and the living areas. The house was wonderful, until they reached the basement. In one corner of the living room, there was a staircase leading down to the basement. This basement also had an outdoor entrance from the backyard, which was unusual but seemed practical. As they descended the stairs, it was as if they had stepped into a different world. The basement was filled with large rooms, some beautiful and spacious, others dark and eerie.

They noticed some doors with swinging panels, leading to rooms that looked like they belonged in a horror movie. One room, in particular, had walls that were smudged and scraped, with strange dark stains. On the walls, they found surgical tools, hooks, and chains with pullies. In the center of the room was a metal table that looked like it had seen its share of disturbing activities. To make things worse, the room had an overpowering, nauseating smell. Carmen and Allen were uneasy, but they reasoned that maybe the previous owner,

had been a doctor and this was his workspace. Deciding to avoid this room and keep it locked, they figured they'd set up Stephen's bedroom in a different part of the basement, one that was larger and had its own bathroom. Maybe having a big, private room would help lift Stephen's spirits. But when they showed the room to the kids, Stephen wasn't thrilled. He looked around and told his parents he'd rather keep suffering through the long car rides than stay in that creepy basement room. Alan tried to comfort him, pointing out the benefits of having his own space, but Stephen was

adamant. He kept insisting, Can't You See? This house is haunted, the couple brushed it off, thinking Stephen was just being dramatic. But soon, Carmen began to worry about the basement, specifically the ominous room with the surgical tools. She feared that one of the kids might sneak in there and get hurt. So, while Alan and the kids were settling in upstairs, she went down and started clearing out the creepy items, scrubbing the walls, and opening cabinets. Inside, she found metal plaques engraved with names, dates, and loving messages. There were also dozens of crucifixes. This discovery left her chilled.

It was no doctor's office, it had been a funeral home. The thought of her family living in a former mortuary was terrifying. Just as Carmen was deciding to talk to Alan about leaving, she heard a scream from upstairs. It was Stephanie, her young daughter, who was in tears, saying that she'd seen a woman with pale skin and dark hair watching her while she played with her dolls. Carmen tried to comfort her, brushing it off as an overtired hallucination from the stress of moving, and told her everything would look better after a good night's sleep. The family tried to settle in, but that night, Stephen came to his mother, saying he couldn't

sleep. He'd heard voices in the basement, whispers that seemed to come from the walls. Shadows and cold drafts filled the room, and he couldn't bear the strange, haunting sensations that seemed to press in from every corner. Carmen, worried, chalked it up to side effects from his aggressive cancer treatments. She reassured him, walked him back to bed, and hoped for the best. The next morning, the landlord, Mr. Campbell, stopped by. Carmen confronted him about what she'd discovered in the basement, and he didn't deny it.

The house had indeed been a funeral home, the Harrahann funeral home, from 1936 until 1984, before the business moved and the original owner retired. Campbell warned her not to throw away any of the items in the basement, as they were historical artifacts. He suggested they just locked the room to keep the kids safe. Horrified, Carmen called Alan, saying she couldn't bear the idea of living in a house that had once been filled with death. But Alan was practical.

He reminded her that they had finally found an affordable, spacious home, and what mattered most now was the well-being of their family. They decided not to tell the kids about the home's dark history, hoping they could create a safe, happy life there despite the unsettling details. But things didn't stay peaceful for long. Stephen's condition seemed to worsen, not just from his illness, but from the oppressive presence he felt in the house. Shadows, voices, and mysterious cold spots plagued him at night, and he wasn't the

only one experiencing them. Stephanie continued to see ghostly figures, and other unexplained occurrences began. Lights flickered, strange noises echoed, and doors would open or slam shut on their own. The children started waking up with bruises and scratches, and the children started waking up with bruises and scratches, and even Alan, the skeptic, couldn't ignore the growing darkness within their home. Desperate, Carmen reached out to paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, famous for their work on haunted houses. The Warrens agreed to help, but the experiences they documented in the house shocked even them.

They claimed that the house was plagued by the spirits of those who had once been prepared for burial there. The basement, the site of most of the activity, was a portal to unimaginable darkness. The Warrens performed an exorcism, hoping to cleanse the home. but the haunting left a lasting impact on the Snedeker family. For years, they struggled with the trauma of their time in that house. Stephen's health continued to suffer, and the family was forever marked by the horrors they encountered.

What started as an attempt to find peace and healing for Stephen turned into a nightmare that they'd never forget. The true story behind the haunting in Connecticut is far more chilling than any movie could capture, a reminder that sometimes, the most terrifying tales come from real life. It started subtly, barely noticeable at first. First. There were whispers, fleeting shadows, and a chilling sensation that you couldn't quite explain. Most of the time, people brushed it off as their imagination or stress playing tricks on them. But things became impossible to ignore, especially in the kitchen area of

Flight 318. The temperature there would drop so drastically it felt unnatural, and shadows seemed to watch anyone who dared to step into that space. These eerie occurrences traced back to one of the most tragic accidents in aviation history. On December 29th, 1972, Eastern Airlines Flight 401 crashed into the murky swamps of the Florida Everglades. It was a horrifying disaster, claiming the lives of most of its passengers and crew. The Lockheed L. 1011 TriStar Aircraft was the pride of its fleet, a marvel of technology at the time. Spacious, quiet, and incredibly comfortable, it was the kind of plane everyone wanted to fly on. Eastern Airlines had only owned it for four months before tragedy struck.

The ill-fated Flight 401. On that fateful evening, Flight 401 was scheduled to take off from John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York, bound for Miami. The ground staff had prepared everything, and the 163 passengers boarded without incident. But something peculiar happened before takeoff, the captain and co-pilot were nowhere to be found. Confusion rippled through the crew, and the tower decided to replace the entire flight team. Among the newly assigned staff was a flight attendant who had a reputation for having unsettlingly accurate premonitions. This woman had first experienced such visions as a teenager, foreseeing a tragic train accident involving her classmates.

Over the years, her glimpses into the future became more frequent, and she gained a reputation for predicting events with chilling accuracy. So, when she was assigned to Flight 401, a sense of dread washed over her. She remembered a recent vision of a plane crashing into the Everglades, a Lockheed L-1011 just like this one. Worse, the flight's route matched her premonition exactly, New York to Miami. Fate seemed to intervene when she was reassigned at the last minute. The original crew was reinstated, and she didn't have to board the plane.

For her, it was a narrow escape. For others, it marked the beginning of a nightmare. A routine flight turns deadly. At 9.20 p.m., flight 401 took off without any issues. Everything appeared normal for most of the journey, altitude, speed, and cabin conditions were all stable. Passengers were relaxed, enjoying their flight. But at 1132 p.m., just as the plane was approaching Miami, the landing gear indicator malfunctioned. The light, which was supposed to confirm that the landing gear was locked, failed to illuminate. Captain Robert Loft, a seasoned pilot,

contacted air traffic control to report the issue. The decision was made to circle the airport while the crew tried to resolve the problem. They climbed to 2,000 feet and engaged the autopilot. But as the team focused on troubleshooting, an accidental nudge to the controls caused the plane to gradually lose altitude, a fact that went unnoticed until it was too late. In just 70 seconds, the aircraft descended over 250 feet. Warning alarms blared, but confusion reigned in the cockpit. Moments later, the plane struck the swamp. The left wing hit first, followed by the engines and landing gear.

The crash tore the aircraft apart, leaving the wreckage scattered across the Everglades. The impact was devastating, but the swamp's marshy terrain absorbed much of the shock, saving some lives. However, it also complicated rescue efforts. Survivors battled infections from bacteria in the water, including gangrene. In the end, 77 people out of the 176 on board survived. Among the cockpit crew, only Angelo Donadio, an off-duty Eastern Airlines technician, lived to tell the tale.

Strange echoes of the past, while the tragedy-dominated headlines, Eastern Airlines quietly salvaged parts from the wreckage. Components such as ovens, radios, and other systems were installed in other aircraft to save costs. This decision would lead to one of aviation's most chilling legends. Reports of strange phenomena began just months later, particularly on Flight 318, which used many recycled parts from Flight 401. Crew members and passengers alike described a pervasive coldness, shadows that seemed to move on their own, and an overwhelming feeling of being watched. Initially, these incidents were dismissed as overactive imaginations, but they became harder to ignore. One flight attendant, unnerved by the

icy atmosphere in the galley, called a colleague for support. Together, they confirmed the strange drop in temperature and felt as though unseen eyes were fixed on them. A week later, another attendant saw a white, glowing orb in the same area. The orb grew larger, morphing into a face with distinct features, glasses, wrinkles, and all. The apparition was so vivid that the attendant fled in terror. Word spread quickly. Rumors of a haunted plane began to take hold, especially after multiple witnesses reported seeing the ghostly visage of Captain Robert Loft. On one occasion, a flight attendant performing a routine passenger check discovered a man in a captain's uniform sitting in a seat meant to be empty. Assuming he was

an off-duty pilot hitching a ride, she approached him for confirmation, but he didn't respond. When another crew member joined her to investigate, the silent man vanished before their eyes. The shaken crew later identified the mysterious figure as Captain Loft from photos of the Flight 401 crew. Ghostly encounters multiply, Captain Loft wasn't the only spirit linked to Flight 318. The ghost of flight engineer Don Repo also made frequent appearances. His specter was often seen performing routine checks in the cockpit or warning crew members about potential mechanical issues. In one chilling incident, a flight engineer claimed to have encountered Repo's ghost in the cockpit before takeoff. The apparition reassured him that everything

had been inspected and was in working order before disappearing into thin air. On another flight, Repo's face appeared in the reflection of an oven door, startling both the attendant and an engineer who confirmed the sighting. Perhaps the most unnerving encounter occurred during a flight to Mexico City. Repo allegedly appeared to multiple crew members, warning them to watch out for fire. Though the flight proceeded without incident, a mechanical failure during its return leg validated the warning. The whipping was a humiliating experience, and the three pounds were a significant amount of money, though Mary could afford to pay. So, she chose to do so, a decision that did not sit well with Hook. He would rather see his wife assaulted than part with the three pounds, a sum he had plenty of.

This small conflict between Mary and Hook set the stage for a story that would unfold in New England, beginning in the early 17th century. During the first half of the 1600s, many people migrated from England to colonial America, seeking new opportunities and a fresh start. Virginia had settlements as early as 1620, but it wasn't until the 1630s that thousands of people began to migrate to the new world in search of a better life. They were dissatisfied with their lives in England, each having their own reasons, political, economic, or religious. for leaving. Among them was William Pinson, a man who played a significant role in the establishment of New England. In 1630, he founded the settlement of Roxbury, Massachusetts, a key point in the maritime trade. However, the land there was not ideal for farming, as it was rocky and difficult to cultivate. In 1635, William Pinson embarked on an expedition along the

Connecticut River, hoping to find better land. It was then that he stumbled upon a region the natives called Agawam, which meant land flooded by water. This land was fertile and perfect for farming, and it was strategically located between the major ports of Boston and Albany. Pinson decided to settle there and founded the plantation of Agawam, which eventually became Springfield. The region's fertile soil and strategic location led to its success, and soon the settlement began engaging in the lucrative fur trade. Though William Pinson's story is fascinating, our focus today is on someone much less known, a servant named Mary. The details of Mary's life are somewhat unclear, and there are conflicting reports about her

origins. Some sources claim she was born in Gloucestershire, England, in 1628, while others suggest she was born in 1610 in Wales. This confusion arises from the fact that two women named Mary lived around the same time, and their lives were remarkably similar. Both Marys had a connection to someone named Parsons, and both were accused of witchcraft. Our Mary, however, had a turbulent life long before she arrived in New England. It is known that she was once married to a man named David Lewis. Her marriage was unhappy, as her husband pressured her to convert to Catholicism. Although she promised to do so after they were married, Mary ultimately failed to convert, and in 1637, David abandoned her. For a year, Mary searched for him,

joining the Calvinist Church in Wales in the hopes of finding new friends and contacts who might lead her to David. However, despite her efforts, she never found him. It was a little bit of was during this period of searching that Mary became captivated by the sermons preached in the church. These sermons spoke of the New World as a place of divine opportunity, a land where communities could live closer to God, a place where one could dedicate their entire being to him. The idea of this mystical pilgrimage to the New World resonated with Mary, and she decided to leave everything behind and set off for America. Using her contacts, she secured a job and, by a stroke of luck, became a servant to and Smith, the daughter of William Pinson.

At the time, and was pregnant, and many of the new settlers in the area were Welsh, making it easier for Mary to settle into the community. Mary quickly adapted to her new life. She took on the responsibility of caring for Anne's four children, a task that left her feeling both fulfilled and forlorn. She had no family of her own, and her marriage had ended in abandonment. Yet, she dutifully cared for another woman's children, a reminder of her own unfurbed. fulfilled desires for a family. In the summer of 1645, everything changed when Mary met a brickmaker

named Hook Parsons. Not much is known about Hook, except that he was from England and had an odd, though hardworking, personality. He was quiet, focused on his work, and financially secure. In New England, there was a huge demand for bricks as settlements expanded, and Hook was a skilled tradesman in high demand. However, his personality caused some friction. Though he was polite and reserved, he had a short temper. When people tried to criticize him or give him advice, Hook would lash out in anger, making enemies quickly. Hook's talents were recognized by William Pinson, who invited him to work in Springfield, offering him a large plot of land.

Hook accepted, and shortly after arriving, he crossed paths with Mary. Sparks flew between them immediately, and although Mary was still technically married, Hook and Mary soon formed a bond. However, for them to marry, Mary needed permission from William Pinson, as he was the authority in the settlement. Mary argued that she had been abandoned by her husband seven years ago and had lived in isolation since then. According to the religious beliefs of the time, divorce was nearly considered a sin, as marriage was seen as a sacred commitment. However, Mary persisted, claiming she had been abandoned and that she deserved a new life with Hook.

Some sources suggest she also insisted on marrying Hook because she might have been pregnant, and an illegitimate child would have been a scandal. Whatever the true reason, after months of insistence, Mary finally received permission, and she married Hook. They moved into a charming house in Springfield, where their lives seemed to improve. Hook's business thrived, and Mary soon found herself pregnant. The growth of Springfield brought with it prosperity, but also increasing tensions. As the settlement expanded, competition arose, and with competition came jealousy. Hook, driven by an insatiable desire to succeed, began to compete with his neighbors for the best land, the most money, and the most influence.

His envy of others created conflict, and this atmosphere of tension only intensified as their family grew. On August 7, 1646, Mary gave birth to their first child, a daughter named Hannah. Just after her birth, a deadly epidemic of flu and smallpox struck the area. While other children in the settlement fell ill, Hannah remained perfectly healthy, leading the townspeople to question why she was unaffected. This unusual situation caused suspicions to grow, and some of the locals began to whisper that Mary might be involved in witchcraft. In May 1647, these suspicions were confirmed when a woman

named Al-Sayon was executed for witchcraft in New Windsor, Connecticut. Once a woman was convicted of being a witch, others in the community began to wonder if more were hiding in plain sight. Mary was one of the prime suspects. The situation only worsened when, in 1648, Mary became pregnant with their second child and began showing signs of depression and anxiety. Meanwhile, Hooke's obsession with competition and wealth continued. He demanded that Mary returned to work for and Smith, even though they were financially secure. Mary refused. She wanted to stay home with their growing family, but Hook insisted, growing more frustrated

by the day. As tensions rose, Hook began spending more time away from home, immersing himself in hobbies like fishing, hunting, and gardening. This only caused more strain in their relationship. Their fights became louder, and soon the entire neighborhood could hear their arguments. As their marriage became increasingly dysfunctional, their neighbors began to distance themselves from the couple. In 1648, another witch trial took place when a woman named Margaret Jones was executed in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. By now, the community was on high alert for signs of witchcraft, and the growing hostility toward Mary and her family only fueled the rumors.

Hook's volatile temper and increasing isolation added to the suspicion. His frequent arguments, especially with a pregnant neighbor, led to more rumors that he might be involved in witchcraft. When the neighbor fell ill shortly after their argument, the whispers only grew louder. People began to believe that Hook and Mary were cursed and responsible for the mysterious illnesses that plagued the settlement. By the summer of 1648, Mary had given birth to their second son, Samuel. Yet, despite the growing rumors of witchcraft and the increasing tension between the couple,

the Parsons family continued to try to thrive. Hook, however, remained obsessed with his success and his desire to outdo his neighbors, while Mary found herself caught in a web of suspicion, isolation, and despair. The Parsons' story is one of ambition, obsession, and ultimately, tragedy, a tale of how envy, fear, and desperation can tear apart families and communities. It all began innocently enough for Mary, a woman in Springfield, a place where gossip and superstition often run wild. But everything changed when a new name.

neighbor moved into town, Mercy Marshfield. Mercy was everything that Mary wasn't, charming, beautiful, and instantly likable. The kind of person everyone wanted to be friends with. At first, Mary found herself drawn to her, perhaps because of her warmth and grace. However, the more Mary observed, the more she began to suspect something darker. Mary was a firm believer in witches. She had heard the stories, read about them in pamphlets, and had been taught about witches from an early age. So when Mercy came to town seemed to have such a natural connection with everyone, something in Mary clicked. She became convinced that Mercy was a witch, that this lovely new neighbor had brought evil with her to Springfield. Mary's obsession began

to grow. She started to tell anyone who would listen that Mercy was involved in dark, unholy rituals. She's a witch, she'd say, voice lowered conspiratorially, and she summoned the devil himself to Springfield. Mary noticed strange lights at night. near Mercy's land, lights that flickered and danced in ways that seemed unnatural. She began to tell people, her family, and anyone who would listen about the bizarre occurrences she witnessed. But it wasn't just strange lights that set off alarms for Mary. She was particularly fixated on the idea that Mercy might have markings on her body, those marks of a witch that were supposedly visible to those who knew what to look for.

Mary, always quick to jump to conclusions, believed that she was the only one who could see these signs. To her, Mercy's knowledge of witchcraft was undeniable. How else would she know so much about the marks of a witch? Mary would whisper to her friends. Only a witch would know these things. However, as much as Mary tried to convince people, her own paranoia began to unravel. People started to question her. After all, she was the one obsessed with witches. It was becoming clear to others that maybe Mary herself had a problem, not mercy. Maybe, just maybe, Mary was the one who was consumed by dark thoughts. In fact, it wasn't long before people started to notice that Mary seemed a little too

obsessed with the whole thing. Her conversations were increasingly focused on witchcraft, to the point that she began to suspect everyone around her, even her own husband, Hugh Parsons, of being a witch. But let's not jump ahead of ourselves. Let's stay focused on Mercy for now. One night, Mary had a particularly vivid nightmare. In this dream, all her suspicions were confirmed, Mercy was, without a doubt, a witch.

The next morning, Mary couldn't contain herself any longer. She went straight to the authorities and accused Mercy of witchcraft. But Mercy wasn't about to stay silent. She had heard the rumors, and now she saw the truth about Mary. She too went to the authorities, but not to accuse, this time, Mercy filed a defamation lawsuit against Mary. Springfield was split. Some sided with Mercy, the charming and friendly newcomer, while others sympathized with Mary,

who was so adamant that Mercy was involved in witchcraft. The town was divided. The trial became a spectacle. If Mary won, Mercy would be labeled a witch, but if Mercy won, Mary would be publicly humiliated. This is when things took a darker turn. Meanwhile, Hugh Parsons, who had a knack for getting into trouble, wasn't staying out of the spotlight.

In fact, he was making things worse for everyone, especially himself. He had been working for Sarah and Alexander Edwards, a couple that owed him money. He had done some work for them, built them a fireplace, and had agreed to let them pay him later. But as time passed, they kept stalling. Eventually, Hugh had had enough. He went to their house to demand the payment they owed him.

Sarah and Alexander had nothing. They said they couldn't pay him, not at that moment, and even promised they'd pay him later. But when Hugh saw they had a cow, he had an idea. He suggested that they pay him with milk instead of money. Sarah, however, refused. She argued that their cow didn't produce enough milk to cover the debt. This, as you can imagine, sent Hugh into a rage. He yelled, he threatened, and he stormed out of their house.

The next morning, when Sarah went to milk the cow, she discovered that the cow was producing much less milk than usual. Even worse, the milk itself had a strange color. Sarah immediately jumped to the conclusion that Hugh had cursed the cow. She was convinced that he was a witch, seeking reverend. on her and her husband for not paying their debt. The rumor spread through Springfield-like wildfire. Hugh was accused of witchcraft. Now, the town had another problem on its hands. Of course, Mary added fuel to the fire. As if things weren't chaotic enough, she began

telling everyone that Hugh was a terrible man, a witch who cursed animals and did terrible things. She told people that she had been duped into marrying him. In her mind, he was capable of anything. People in the town began to turn against the Parsons family. At this point, the rumors had taken on a life of their own. Hugh had been accused of witchcraft, and Mary, obsessed with the idea of witches, began seeing them everywhere. She believed that Mercy was one, and she was increasingly convinced that her husband, Hugh, was another. Her paranoia reached a breaking point. Then, in the summer of 1649, something happened that made everything even worse. A neighbor named William Branch woke up one morning unable to walk. His legs were

cramped, and he couldn't seem to move. It got so bad that he could barely even stand. He was in pain, and it didn't seem to improve. During this time, William had a dream in which he believed Hugh Parsons was responsible for his condition. In his mind, this confirmed everything. Hugh was a witch. He had cursed him. It didn't take long for word to spread. The entire town was of Springfield believed that Hugh was responsible for William's sudden illness. William was convinced, and so were most of the townspeople. At this point, Mary was more convinced than ever that her husband was a witch, and she began telling everyone that he was the one behind the sickness in the town. Things were getting out of control. Hugh, who was getting

fed up with the gossip and accusations, decided to take matters into his own hands. He went to the authorities and demanded they inspect Mary's body for signs of witchcraft. It was a ridiculous request, but Mary's paranoia had led her to this point, and people were starting to question both her and her husband. Were they both witches? Maybe the whole town was cursed. Meanwhile, the whispers and rumors about the Parsons family grew louder. No one wanted to be seen with them.

They started crossing the street to avoid even walking near them. But then something truly tragic happened. Samuel, the youngest child of Mary and Hugh, fell seriously ill. Hugh was frantic. He grabbed the child out of his crib and rushed outside, shouting for help. But no one came. Not a single neighbor responded. In fact, when they heard Hugh's cries, they shut their windows and ignored him.

Hours later, Samuel died. The town was horrified, but instead of feeling sympathy for Hugh, the people of Springfield believed the worst. They thought that Hugh had killed his son. They didn't think about how no one had helped him. They didn't care about the fact that no one came to his husband. aide. They assumed Hugh had killed his own child. It was a tragic situation. Mary, after the death of her son, didn't stop. She kept spreading rumors. She told everyone

that Hugh was the devil himself. The town was on the brink of madness, and the paranoia was getting worse. But then, something truly bizarre happened. In 1650, Mary found out that she was pregnant again. The gossip about her and her husband reached a fever pitch. The people of Springfield couldn't understand how a woman could continue to live with a man they believed was a witch, a demon, and a killer. But Mary, undeterred, continued to spread her accusations, even as she carried her third child. In the midst of all this, Hugh's troubles didn't stop. The local reverend, George Moxon, hired Hugh to do some work at his house.

But after a few days, Moxon began to complain. He didn't like the work Hugh was doing. This led to a heated argument between the two men, and Hugh left the job. A few days later, Reverend Moxon's children became sick. The town couldn't ignore the rumors anymore. People started to put the pieces together. And then, on March 4, 1651, Joshua, the Parson's son, died. This was the final straw.

People were now convinced that Mary and Hugh had killed not one but two of their own children as part of some dark, twisted ritual. The townspeople had seen enough. The couple was arrested. Mary, by this point, was completely. lost to her delusions. She admitted to being a witch and even claimed to have killed her own child. She confessed to everything. But even then, there was no concrete evidence to support any of it. The authorities believed that Mary's mental state had deteriorated due to the strain of childbirth

and depression. She was sentenced to death by hanging. However, before her execution, Mary died in prison from typhus. It was a sad and strange end to, her life. Hugh, on the other hand, had a different fate. Without Mary's testimony, the case against him fell apart. The witnesses were unwilling to travel to Boston for the trial, and Hugh was released. He spent the next year of living in Boston with his daughter, Hannah. He eventually sold his land and faded into obscurity. What happened to Hugh after that is unclear. Some say he remarried and started anew, while others claimed that he simply vanished from history. Regardless, the story of Mary and Hugh Parsons remains one of the most tragic and bizarre tales in the history of which trials. What do you think? Was it all just

a terrible case of paranoia and mass hysteria? Or was there something more sinister at play in Springfield? The tale begins in the winter of 1922, on a remote farm in Antigamish County, located in northeastern Canada. This region was home to humble, hardworking people, farmers, hunters, and fishers, who knew one another well. Life in this area was peaceful, with no remarkable conflicts. The population was scattered, with small villages, solitary houses, and sprawling farms. When the snow fell, everyone was cut off from each other. One of the most isolated spots was Caledonia Mills, about 24 kilometers from Antigonish. This small community consisted of a few country houses, mills, a post office, and a modest school. The people here were

self-sufficient, living in a world of their own. Caledonia Mills had been established in the late 19th century. The first family to settle there were loggers who built a home. Not long after, the McDonald family moved in, John, Margaret, and their children. Life was good for many years. They managed their livestock, kept their accounts in order, and employed several workers. When John passed away, his eldest son, Alexander, inherited everything. Alexander continued to thrive. At some point, he married Janet. Tradition dictated that the wife would move into her husband's family home, but Janet and Alexander opted for a slight deviation. Living with the in-laws wasn't ideal for them, so they took a piece of the family

land and built a modest house. Their home was a simple two-story wooden structure with a couple of bedrooms and a wood stove. Despite electricity being available at the time, the McDonald's didn't have it. The couple's life carried on peacefully. They welcomed their daughter, Mary, and in 1899, Janet's mother moved in with them. The elderly woman suffered from dementia, and family disputes arose over her care. No one else wanted to take responsibility for her, so Janet stepped in. However, the situation grew dire. Unable to manage her mother's behavior, Janet reportedly tied her to a bed.

Shortly afterward, on April 28, 1890, the elderly woman passed away. Although the official cause was deemed natural, rumors circulated. A neighbor claimed to have heard Janet curse her mother, yelling that she wished the devil would take her. Allegedly, a black dog, a bad omen, was seen in their kitchen that night. Whispers of witchcraft surrounded Janet, but there was no evidence to support such claims. Years passed without incident. Mary grew up, and to prepare for her eventual departure, the McDonald's adopted Mary Helen, a relative's young daughter, in 1910. Their lives remained uneventful until 1912, when strange noises began emanating from.

from their home. Knocks, footsteps, scratching sounds, howls, and what seemed like the clinking of chains filled the wooden house. Alexander dismissed these as common occurrences, perhaps rats or structural issues. Yet, his daughters were terrified, speaking of ghosts and bad omens. Then, small items began disappearing, a necklace, a key, a handkerchief. These petty losses were followed by missing clothes and saddles. Searching the property, the family found a saddle buried behind the tree. They rode it off as a prank or sleepwalking incident. However, the situation escalated. One morning, Alexander went to the barn to tend to the animals and found a slaughtered lamb lying at the door. He was baffled, he had no enemies and couldn't imagine who

might have done it. Over time, other bizarre occurrences plagued the farm. Animals would escape, even when the barn was securely locked. As word spread, strange stories surfaced. Some claimed to have seen a phantom horse near the farm that would transform into a human when approached. Others insisted they saw the McDonald's house in flames, only for the fire to vanish as they drew near. By January 7, 1922, the events took a terrifying turn. That morning, Alexander noticed a large crack near the stove. He spent the day fixing it. That night, after ensuring the house was secure, the family went to bed. Shortly after, Janet woke everyone, claiming she smelled smoke. Alexander investigated but found nothing. The cycle repeated several times until, finally, they discovered

the living room engulfed in flames. Alexander used snow to extinguish the fire. The family endured another sleepless night as objects randomly caught fire, a chair, a piece of cloth, a section of the wall. Exhausted and frightened, Alexander inspected every corner of the house the next day. Despite his precautions, the fires resumed that evening. Even the ceiling of the kitchen burst into flames. Desperate, Alexander sent Mary Helen to fetch neighbors. Soon, free men arrived, Leo McGilifrey, Bray, and Duncan MacDonald. As they helped extinguish the fires, Leo described the flames as peculiar, not like any fire he'd seen before. The neighbors suggested the family leave the house, but relocating wasn't simple. The McDonald's entire livelihood

was tied to their farm. They accepted a neighbor's offer to stay temporarily in his home while investigating the strange phenomena. Meanwhile, rumors of the events spread across the county and beyond. Arnold Beef Woodend, a Halifax journalist, caught wind of the story. He interviewed witnesses and published an article, sparking widespread interest. The case attracted private investigator Peter Owen Carroll, known for his unconventional methods. Carroll arrived in Antigonish in February 1922, ready to unravel the mystery. Peter, alongside Woodend, interviewed the McDonald's and other witnesses before spending a night in the house. Initially, nothing happened.

But past midnight, they heard footsteps on the upper floor. Investigating, they found no one. Later, Peter felt a tap on his shoulder, though no one was there. Over the next nights, they observed more fires igniting without explanation. In March, Walter Franklin Price, a member of the American Society for Psychical Research, joined the investigation. Price was a skeptic who had previously debunked fraudulent mediums. Accompanied by other researchers, he revisited the McDonald House.

Despite their efforts, no conclusive explanation was found for the mysterious fires and other occurrences. The story of Caledonia Mills remains one of Canada's most baffling paranormal mysteries, with theories ranging from poltergeists to environmental factors. For the McDonald family, the events forever altered their lives, leaving a legacy shrouded in fear and speculation. is that in the middle of the trial it began to say that Egyptian spirits got in her body and pushed her to kill, Bill who pushed her to kill and dismembered it so that in this way it's, soul does not smoke, rest. On December 1st, 1991, a beautiful, 23-year-old woman traveled to, home of his ex-boyfriend to make him a, strange request told him that his current, husband of her and that in defense, own had killed him also told him what parts of the husband's body were, in his car but that the rest were in, his apartment told him along. history of very twisted story and the sheik she kept talking and offered 75,000 and two new motorcycles in exchange for we'll throw a cable in exchange for this subject to her to the apartment and will help her get rid of everything there boy said he would help him be pulling

the apartment that i don't know worry and call a friend to give a truck to listen to that the woman relaxed and he marched but at that moment he grabbed the telephone and called the police is there where the sinister case of music today o min nelson was born in 1968 in a town, quite poor located south of Cairo, very close to the border with Sudan of his, childhood of origins we have hardly any, information in fact we do not even know in, what day was born or the name of his parents, but what we know today is that it reached, this world within a family of, structured apparently her father was, a violent person who abused physical and sexually both of her and her. Mother and age of eight submitted her to the genital

mutilation a horrible practice, that unfortunately today in many, countries continue to arrive, to adolescence the mother of Oma, gathered enough forces to do, the bags and flee from home next to her. They finally got rid of their father, but, now they had to look for a home and the, poverty continued to chase them in fact, having no resources ended up living, in a marginal neighborhood of Cairo called, the city of the dead from, reality at origin was a necropolis, the houses were between tombs between, mausoleos and the neighbors were very, accustomed to death for them was, something very normal every day and there, mother and daughter prospered the girl, worked as a nanny as a model and how cashier and at 18 years of age he took a turn and then he

met a man who promised to change his life this subject was a native of the united states and i was in cairo working temporarily in the industry of oil on him there is not much information but it seems that it was enough greater than her her way of seeing life it was completely different but like this omama's mother forced them to contract nuptials convinced his daughter that she was the only way i could prosper and the girl followed her advice couple mary living together and in, specifically two. Texas as expected this, marriage did not last and Oma had to. Looking for life is in a country. Unknown just dominated English, no, I had almost friends and then divorce. He had to look for several jobs worked, as a nanny cashier Amama

of Keys-like model, but the latter did, unfortunately any, employment lasted too much and also the money they paid him was very little like that, that the woman is forced to commit, little thefts from time to time stole, in food stores' shoes and these, crimes little by little they climbing, driving under the influence of alcohol, disobedience to authority but here, comes to the very interesting one and everyone. Crimes involved the payment of several, fines but she could not pay them because I really didn't win. So much money so another way was sought, to enrich and go to Acosta de Los. Men since their first marriage, she broke up with them to, relate to older men then. She and, of course, with good savings, all responded to the same prototype and,

looking everyone ended in the same way, she spent all her money and when I, realize this or already tired, disappeared from their lives and a clear. Example of this was a man named. Robert Hansen Robert and Omama were. Together for a time in, 1990 everything was going well between. They were very affectionate, passionate, and occasionally, they practiced the bondage use strings. Bonds but one night everything took a turn, complete and is that half of one of its. OM Games to Robert took a gun and threatened to kill him if he didn't give him. All his money asked for cash, the pins of the cards, the notebooks, savings asked for everything he had, and Robert dead of fear agreed some. Fuentes say that this robbery did not arrive in, no part that was just an

attempt to end, others that was real and that also, Robert ended up denouncing but to this, we will return back to, quite a while wandered town in town, and finally ended up in the county, Orange, California. His modus superandi was always the same. I was looking for a popular bar asked for a drink, said a nonsense with him. They started to leave and then removed. All the money and that was how in autumn of, 1991 crossed her new husband, William Nelson better known as Bill, met some friends, watching beer and playing pool, when he was supposed to get a, violative ticket and start doing jokes about how much money he had and, how many lands had in the state of. Texas and their omama decided to enter. Action but who this man was,

exactly who was Bill Nelson Bill. He was a 56-year-old speaker and the father of. Five children about their history there is no, just information according to your friends and, relatives Bill was very joking and, in love point that will later be, very important was the type of person that just wanted the best lead a red corvette used cowboy boots and always carried the typical golden buckle in the belt i also enjoyed showing its wealth wherever outside he loved to show off greeting heavy jokes bill was like this and not he cared about the opinion of others without however nobody said anything bad about him said he was a good man a good person but the police records pointed one thing that many people ignored and is that in the eighties when i was still a pilot

discovered that he used his plane to traffic with cannabis with which was temporarily sent to prison. I previously mentioned that Bill was very in love and that also this point. It would be very important and it is that in 1991 Bill was already married but a month after meeting Amma left his woman and married her thing that obviously everyone did not like contract nuptials decion to make your one of, Honeyby Road Touring tiles and Arcs is to meet all, Bill's relatives but it should be said that the vast majority were against. Bill Link was fifty six years old I-23. He was even younger than some of his. Children saw her practically like a girl and everyone said they didn't fit the. I had just known and the following month already.

They had married everything was very fast, very, sudden and another very interesting thing is that according to the witnesses O'Meema requested many things jewelry shoes and bill. He granted it was completely between Embellisado and what she said was going to. Mass on one occasion on this honeymoon. The couple rode along with several. More people were having a good time. The atmosphere was quiet but the horse in which she was, uncontrolled and the girl fell to the ground, hitting the head strongly. Blow that was given was to go urgencies, but the woman refused in resounding. He simply took an aspirin and a drink, Bosca and said it was fine and already. After that the couple moved to Bill Apartment A residence, located at Costa Mesa, Music. California years ago Bill

was a pilot, but after committing that crime he took away, the license and life was sought by buying and selling accessories for computers. For that reason all your apartment, it was full of loose pieces, boxes full of cables, and, once I had to travel through, business however, it seems that Oma didn't care everyone said, she looked very happy and then there. Thursday, November 28th, 1991 in the morning very early Bill, he called Margaret his little daughter to, invite her to dinner but she refused in. Rotundo did not agree with his, marriage did not understand anything and therefore, I didn't want to see them Bill understood, perfectly to his daughter and thought that, Better what could I do was give him space.

They talked for a while to sincere and then, they hung up and from here all the, history is blurred and we only have the Oma witness to try to understand, what happened according to the woman from, who married Bill began to show his violent side and that apparently from. That moment of her physical and mind, Humiliaba constantly reminded her, that he was keeping her pushed her, he hit her, and when he wanted, have a relationship, and that happened the afternoon of that. Day the woman assured that Bill her gave her, in the apartment that tied it and the, tried after stagnating her. But she, in self-defense, he got rid of. Ropes grabbed a lamp and hit him,

in the head seeing that he still had, forces to attack her a plate of, the clothes and also hit her and, from here his mind clouded grabbed, some scissors and began to stab until, who ended his life and what was to. Continuation is a real bath of. Blood sectioned her husband's body. In different parts he cut his head, his hands castrated him and proceeded to, eliminate tests as could pass the, head by the friar and then the, wrapped and put it in the freezer. After that he took the victim's hands and he also passed them through the friar during the next three days cut parts of the body they removed their skin and distributed in bags but the most sinister everything is that the whole set ended missing a lot of weight specifically one hundred one hundred pounds pounds of bill nelson had disappeared but to this point we will return later the neighbor of the nelson subsequently reported that the garbage degree of this family it rang for many days connected one afternoon and remained in operation until the next morning and above all he stressed that this device caused him. Working was such an unbearable noise that he could not help looking at him during several days in that apartment. A real massacre occurred they heard. The Crusher the Crusher.

Neighbors did not know what to think but the day. December 1st everything stopped and is that. Omema no longer knew what to do was. Then when he decided to grab two, garbage bags with husbands remains, load them in their red corbett and go door. By door asking for help alone no, I could with everything was a thin girl, short with little force and therefore called. The door of all his ex to see if. Some could help her between these. Subjects was Richard Gray, but no, it is clear if he called him on the phone or, if it went to his house what we do know is, that he did not believe it and that simply, decided to ignore her for it very early. He went to Jose Alfredo Esquivel's house,

his other ex-boyfriend aparted the Corvette Justo, at the door and then called the bell, but Jose looking out the window no, recognized the car and therefore did not open, seeing that I had no Lema answer. It was one hours and returned there at one. At noon he called the bell in several occasions and finally Jose opened. the man said that Omama was out of. Yes, I was crying very scared very, distressed and that between sobs he told him, who killed her husband in self-defense. At first he heard her, quietly but then the woman. He said he had dismembered him and that part of his body were in a car, asked him to please help him, undo everything and in return, offered a large sum of money

and two new motorcycle someone who is afraid and, that he has killed in self-defense, offers so much for throwing a cable like this, that Jose was very scared, myma that did not worry about anything that he would throw a cable that went to the apartment that would call a friend who I would look for a truck and with this they would collect everything and you would do of the tests and the much quieter woman trusted him and he left but at that time Jose entered at home and called the police on the way to the apartment police intercepted the red corbid of bill and immediately stopped him pyron to the woman to teach what there were in the garbage bags that i had together to her but she didn't know what to say he began to wander to put excuses but then he opened them

and the police showed human organs hear the woman told a very strange story and is that her husband Bill Nelson killed someone dismembered and put it in bags and then he went on a business trip told the agents that he was in Florida and that would soon go home that could capture him to take him before the justice judge it but which is logical not they believed it and asked for an order to register your whole house this is probably one of the mutilations more heinous we have had is one of the most frightening and notorious crimes never committed in orange county there were suitcases and plastic bags, soaked with dark parts of parts, of your body in the pot to fry, I was in the hands of Mr. Nelson, and, when we saw the freezer was the, Mr. Nelson's head with wounds,

Blanca there were suitcases, boxes, and bags, of garbage within which they found parts of the body of the victim was a broken lamp, iron with blood and hair hands, hands in the frying head in the freezer, but the scene did not end. Here in the bedroom the mattress was, blood soaked, and the posts of the bed were broken and in the bathroom there was a human torso build and hung as, if it were a ham in the garbage of, the kitchen was mixed human flesh, with turkey and with blueberry sauce. Autopsy determined that the cause of the death were multiple bruises and, that also had several cuts for everything.

The body but another very interesting thing. Interesting is that the ankles had, ties brands but what they could not, knowing is if the dolls also, I had since the hands had been, cut and these cuts denoted, an unusual precision of precision that, according to experts, I implied that the criminal had done it before. Omin Nelson was officially arrested. December 2nd, 1991 and his judgment began on the first of. December 19th, 92 the defense intended, claimed that she had been the victim of, abuses by her husband and how, since childhood had suffered the same. Mind had in fact collapsed a clear example that Omaima was not. Well, it is that in the middle of the trial it began to,

say that Egyptian spirits got in her body and pushed her to kill, Bill who pushed her to kill him and dismembered it so that in this way it's sole no arrest if there were no, defended my life would be dead sorry what happened but i'm glad there lived i'm sorry i dismembered it psychologist who treated her diagnosed her psychosis and stress disorder post-traumatic and defense based on this said bill nelson had violated and physical injured and psychologically during the two months that were together but here comes the argument of the accusation and that is that to seem like omama being in the psychologist confessed that part of bill's body he had eaten said he dressed in read that combed that it was arranged that he painted his lips and then cooked bill meat with barbecue sauce and turkey remains but worst of all is who wrote the moment as something very sweet and pleasant however in this moment the woman retracted and assured that at no time said there eaten human flesh as just b arrested o'mama was taken to a hospital and once there it was there were evidence of trauma and that cuts that had their body were self inflicted these cuts are caused herself by cutting the body and finally the accusation had a witness key ro

Robert Hansen, the man who, 1990, he denounced it for robbery according to forensic team. What Robert saw could be very, similar to what Bill Nelson suffered and, is that taking into account the scene of the crime happened could be the following. All crime occurred in a bedroom. Main Billy Maima are maintaining relationships and then the woman took out some, ropes and tied it to the bedposts, and that's when he took out a knife end. This woman began to threaten to threaten, to threaten, used to this to tie the, victims to threaten them to get everything, the money and then to disappear but bill would take a joke and there it was when the woman grabbed a lamp and hit but seeing that he did not respond grabbed a iron and continued this struggle was constant and the woman lost the nerves took the knife stabbed her and taking advantage of all this this woman dismembered in january 1993 he was acquitted of murder in the first grade but was declared guilty of second and sentenced murder perpetual chain with a minimum of twenty-eight years in prison being in prison he began to get out with a disabled man who he was was 70 years old exchanged letters. Kostan married and over time, man died and left him everything. He

owned Oma Nelson asked freedom, conditional for the first time in 2006 but this was denied since apparently, being in prison many messes, fighting confrontations not respect, rules someone like that could not be, freedom for what he asked again in. 2011 this time he claimed that there were, found to God who was a person, knew who had fallen in love with, had married that he lost to his last, husband and that he never raised his hand. That did not assume this man to. He wanted mad and as soon as he stayed in, freedom would return to Egypt with his mother. But what did not count is that Margaret Nelson Bill Daughter would make a allegation that would throw all the arguments. For the soils and justice once again, rejected the petition may opt. Again to probation in,

2026 so now is your turn what? You think about the case and you think that in that. Occasion can leave. When police searched the house, they found something very strange in the dashboard of Scott's Volvo. In some sources, it was described as a bag, and in others, a Tupperware container. But regardless of the container, its contents remained the same across all versions. Inside was the bloodstained clothing scot had been wearing when Jarmala was murdered. And, in addition to that, the knife used to stab the woman 44 times was also found. This is the moment when the entire story begins to take shape. If you tell someone you walk in your sleep, no one will believe you at.

first. I used to think that if someone gets arrested, they're probably guilty, but we should educate ourselves. Lois Wilk, Scott's mother. With this premise, the defense team built their entire case around sleepwalking. First of all, let's remember that Scott had a history of sleepwalking. He would get up while still asleep, get dressed, repeat specific tasks. And all of this happened when he was very stressed, not sleeping well, or had something important to do. And during the time of the crime, Scott was under a lot of pressure. He had work matters, church responsibilities, and wasn't sleeping properly. So the stress may have led him to commit a violent act unconsciously. Second, to prove that Scott was really a sleepwalker, they ran a couple of

tests using a device called a polysomniaft. This device supposedly records everything that happens in the body while it's asleep. According to the experts, Scott showed clear signs of sleepwalking, or at least of high nighttime brain activity. Third, they claimed that Scott had no problems with his wife. This could be confirmed by friends and family. Yarm and I didn't even argue or yell at each other. In 15 years, I never once thought about hitting or yelling at my wife, Scott Falator's statement. There were no reports of abuse, no history of fights. They always got along, and even if they disagreed, they quickly resolved things. Fourth, the defense Friends argued that this wasn't the first time someone had killed another person while sleepwalking.

Take the case of Kenneth James Parks, in 1987. He apparently had a perfect life. He was happily married, had a nice house, friends, a job. But beneath all that perfection, chaos was brewing. He was facing financial problems, which he tried to solve through gambling and betting. He thought he could win it all back, but the opposite happened. He gambled, lost more money, and ended up with more debt. To avoid worrying his wife, he didn't tell her.

Keeping it all inside stressed him out even more. Stress, insomnia, dark circles, constant fatigue, and finally, on the night of May 24, 1987, his brain snapped. Completely asleep, he got out of bed, got dressed, got into his car, and drove 20 kilometers from Pickering to Scarborough, specifically to his in-law's house. He got along very well with them and had done that route countless times. In fact, he did it one to two times per week. He had his own key. So he unlocked the door, said hello, and usually laid down on their couch. Their trust was incredible. But inside his dreams, the story was very different. He drove there, parked the car outside, used his key to get in, and in the darkness, walked into the main bedroom, where he beat his mother-in-law to death with a tire iron.

Then, he turned to his father-in-law and strangled him with all his strength. The man didn't die, but Kenneth, still asleep, believed that he had. So, afterward, he got back in the car and drove to the nearest police station, where he said, I think I just killed two people. The officer who attended to him said Kenneth was completely expressionless. His tone of voice was flat and monotonous. Then, after a few minutes, Kenneth seemed to wake up. He got nervous, started asking what was going on, what he was doing there, and when they

told him what he had done, he couldn't believe it. As unbelievable as it may sound, Kenneth Parks was acquitted of all charges. So Scott Faylater's defense wanted to use this entire case in his favor. In Kenneth's case, he routinely drove to his in-law's house, always took the same route. did the same thing, so his actions that night were somewhat explainable. And in Scott's case, he always stored his work clothes in the car's dashboard. He would take clothes, fold them, place them on the dashboard, then put on his pajamas and go to bed. Fifth, the defense had an explanation for what happened the night of the crime.

Scott was nervous, stressed, anxious, he fell asleep in front of the computer. He had church and work tasks pending, and he also had to fix the pool pocket. So, in his sleep, he got up, grabbed a knife, and went to the pool. He started splashing, making noise, and inevitably, Jarmole woke up. She put down her book, got up from the sofa, and went to the backyard to ask him what he was doing. She spoke to him, tried to wake him up. But Scott believed she was an intruder.

So he turned around, confronted her, and finally, stabbed her forty-four times. that, he put on gloves, dragged his wife's body into the water, and drowned her. And finally, to end it all, he went back inside, put on his pajamas, and got into bed, as if nothing had ever happened. All of this could make a lot of sense. But the prosecution wasn't convinced. First, they said the attack made no sense. If Scott had truly been sleepwalking, the entire attack would have lasted five minutes. But in reality, it lasted 55. Second, Greg Coons, the main witness, said that during the attack, Scott spoke to his dog and asked it kindly to stop barking. He knew what he was doing, and who he was interacting

with. Third, some of Scott's co-workers said that weeks before the crime, he had talked to them about Kenneth Parks. He told them about this man who, ten years earlier, killed his in-laws while sleepwalking. So, in reality, Scott already knew about the case. Fourth, they had several hypotheses about what may have really happened. The first is that Scott, while sleepwalking, did indeed stab his wife, but when he stood there looking at her for a full minute, he snapped into awareness. He saw the blood, the wounds, realized what he had done, and decided to go through with it

anyway. He put on gloves, dragged her to the pool, and drowned her. The second hypothesis is that the entire crime was planned. Scott knew about the Kenneth Park's case and intended to use it to his advantage, kill his wife and walk away free. But the reason behind the crime was still a mystery. If they were so happy, why kill her? What motive could he possibly have to murder the love of his life?

The answer to these questions was supposedly right in front of them. Religion. Jarmala had never been comfortable with her husband's faith. She converted out of love, only because he insisted, over and over. But that never made her happy. In recent months, she had stopped going to church, stopped associating with members of the congregation. And on top of that, Scott wanted more children, but Jarmala refused. She was happy with two and didn't want more.

Scott kept insisting. Some witnesses said that in the last few months, Jarmaa seemed very depressed. Apparently, she gained some weight, which made her feel insecure. She no longer wanted to talk about religion, didn't want more children. She was letting herself go, she was depressed, and suddenly, she wanted a divorce. So Scott, pretending to be sleepwalking, killed her. But what's interesting is that this man had no prior criminal record. He was never reported for violence, never showed aggressive behavior.

So convicting him would be a little complicated. Sometimes when I think about it, I wonder, what kind of Jekyll and hide am I? There's no way I could hurt Jarn. I didn't know something like this could be in anyone I've ever known, much less in me. Scott Faylater, in June 1999, after eight hours of deliberation, a jury found Scott Lewis Faylater guilty of murder. At that time, the death penalty was still in effect in the state of Arizona. So if the jury voted unanimously, Scott would lose his life.

But instead, he got lucky. At the last moment, the jury couldn't reach a unanimous decision, so Scott was sentenced to life in prison, without the possibility of parole. So now it's your turn. What do you think of the case? Do you believe Scott really committed the crime while asleep? The end. Quick introduction, I'm 21 now and the contents I'm about to narrate are. from the time period when I was 17 and just a new patriotic recruit as a young revolutionary

militia rebel. For years ago I joined the newly formed Revolutionary Army 2 fight against the military coup and the atrocities and genocides committed by the military, I was just ambitious and patriotic during that time and naive. Anyway, this is a story for another time. After a few months of service under the Revolutionary Army, I was posted in the Chin region of Myanmar in the wilderness which separates the military territory and the territory we control so I had a big duty to fill as I was the first line of defense in case of any invasion. We had wooden towers and wooden shacks in a small concentrated area of the wilderness which was our base. In total we had 20 active fighters and 12 other who often worked inside jobs but were well equipped and trained

like us. For miles it was nothing but trees and rivers, we would often go on patrolling along the lines of the wilderness. On a specific night it was my turn along with my, it means buddy, Buddy is a duo who patrols the territory, we would walk five kilometers on each side and report back any suspicious activity, my buddy, and I always felt chills about the wilderness we were in. We never felt comfortable so we never went past the five kilometers mark as we always felt uneasy, but on that specific night as we were closing on the five kilometers mark, we heard humming we thought it was just the wind as it was always windy there, but in our case both of us instantly felt chills as we walked closer to the five kilometers mark the humming got louder.

Just to be clear just beyond the five kilometers mark is a small cliff which goes down to a river. We reported hearing humming down the river to the main base through our set phone, but we got no response which was weird for us as a set phone never malfunctions. So both of us just stood on the edge of the cliff pointing our flashlight towards the river which was pretty shallow and I kid you not. Narrating this story right now is giving me chills. We both saw a skinless long hair women taking bath in the river humming. I swear to God that day I screamed like a kid and shocked. My buddy, he shook me to stay calm and he decided to point at it with our guns, but the thing was gone. We ran back to base like hell with our guns and

armor which was extra five to eight kilograms. We eventually reached the base and narrated the whole thing to command. They had also brushed off the incident. And we eventually forgot about it after a few weeks, but I fell sick and was bedridden for two months. Thank God I recovered, but the weird part was during my illness a shaman was called to treat me due to my worsening condition. Me personally I don't believe in shamans as a Christian, but the shocking part was he had told my caretakers I was cursed for seeing what I should not have. For a coincidence I thought it was weird, eventually I heard that my buddy, who I was with during the incident had died due to unknown reasons. I wasn't able to meet him due to him being posted to a different place.

I'm now 21 and living in Australia at my aunt's place and I'm planning on continuing my studies here. Thank you, smiley face. The road stretched endlessly ahead, the headlights carving a narrow tunnel through the night. My hands rested firmly on the steering wheel, my thumbs tapping absent-mindedly to the soft hum of the radio. The world outside was quiet, too quiet, with only the occasional of trees rushing past. I hadn't seen another car for miles. This was supposed to be good for us. A weekend away from everything, the noise, the routines, the lingering weight of Sarah's absence. She wasn't gone, of course. Just away for the weekend, out with friends, laughing, unwinding. She deserved that. I told her to go, to enjoy herself. I could handle things.

A camping trip with the kid sounded perfect. Fresh air, s. Morays, a crackling fire under the stars. Yeah. We needed this. Emily was excited, bouncing in her seat even before we left the driveway, her tiny leg swinging. Ryan, well, Ryan didn't complain. That was something. He missed his mom, even if he wouldn't say it.

I felt it in the way he stared out the window, quiet and distant. Maybe this trip would bring us together again, a chance to feel like a family. The clock on the dash glowed 9.42 p.m. The highway had long since faded into winding backroads, the kind where the trees leaned in too close, branches clawing at the edges of the light. The stars barely peaked through the dense canopy above. I glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing Emily's head bobbing as she fought off sleep. Ryan sat on the opposite side, his hoodie pulled up, eyes lost somewhere in the dark woods

outside. Yeah. This was going to be good. We just needed to get there. All right, who's ready for an adventure? I said, forcing my voice to sound lighter than I felt. Emily stirred, mumbling something too soft to hear. Ryan didn't answer. He hadn't said much the whole trip. I sighed, shifting in my seat, and that's when I saw it. A flicker of light appeared between the trees, too bright, too steady to be a firefly. It hovered, unnaturally still, just beyond the tree lean. I blinked, narrowing my eyes. A lantern? Headlights from another car. No, we were in the middle of nowhere. No houses for miles. The light moved. Not flickering, not swaying, but gliding smoothly alongside the car, keeping pace.

My stomach tightened. My fingers curled tighter around the wheel. It wasn't a light. Not really. It stretched, curving into something thin and sharp, something that looked like teeth. A smile. And it was watching us. I kept my eyes on the road, trying to shake off that feeling in my gut.

Whatever it was, I knew it wasn't right. I couldn't dwell on it. We had made it this far, and the kids needed this trip. It was a fresh start for all of us, even if it was just for the weekend. Eventually, the winding road opened up to a wider stretch of land, and I could see the wooden sign up ahead. Cedarwood Forest Campground, it read, the letters weathered but still visible. A familiar relief washed over me. We'd made it. I pulled the car to a slow stop in front of a small wooden, kiosk, where a uniformed officer sat in a folding chair, a clipboard resting in his lap. His eyes were sharp under the brim of his hat, taking in the car and its passengers as I rolled down

the window. Evening, I said, trying to sound cheerful. We're here to camp for the weekend. The officer gave me a quick nod, his gaze flicking over to the kids in the back seat, then back to me. Dollar 30 for the weekend, sir, he said, his voice firm but polite. It's a cash-only campground, but we've got a nice spot right by the lake. You'll find the parking area just ahead.

Just follow the signs to the campgrounds. Enjoy your stay. I pulled out my wallet and handed over the cash, feeling the weight of the night press in on me. The officer gave me a receipt, waved me through, and I rolled up the window, steering the car past the parking area. The parking lot wasn't huge, just a few rows of gravel spaces, each marked with a small, weathered sign indicating the campsites. There were a few other cars parked, mostly older models with gear strapped to the roofs,

tents and coolers already packed beside them. I parked the car in an empty spot, the headlights illuminating the darkened woods ahead. The air felt crisp, the scent of pine trees filling the space around us. All right, guys, I said, cutting the engine. We're here. Let's get everything out and set up before it gets too dark. Emily's eyes lit up as she unbuckled her seatbelt, her excitement palpable. Yay!

I get to sleep in a tent. She shot out of the car before I even had the chance to grab the keys. Ryan didn't say anything at first, but I could see him trying to hide his grin, his green eyes reflecting the excitement. He wasn't one to show too much emotion, but I knew he was looking forward to this trip more than he let on. Come on, Ryan, let's get the tent set up, I said, opening the trunk to grab the gear. Yeah, yeah, he muttered, but I could hear the enthusiasm behind it. The campsite was peaceful, the gentle rustle of the trees above, the faint sounds of distant wildlife. It was nothing like the city noise we were used to. The kids were in their element, running around

and laughing, their voices carrying in the cool night air. We managed to get the first tent set up quickly. Ryan and I worked together, sliding the poles into place, while Emily helped by passing the stakes. She was already talking about what she was going to do the next day, what trail she wanted to hike, what animals she might see. I smiled, tying down the last corner of the tent. There we go. One tent, all set up, I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. I looked at Emily, then Ryan. They were both grinning, happy, for once completely lost in the joy of being outdoors. Can I help make the fire?

Emily asked, her hands clasped together. I want to roast marshmallows. Ryan rolled his eyes playfully but nodded. Yeah, sure, kid. We'll make the best fire ever. I chuckled, starting to feel that sense of relief creeping in. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the escape we needed. It felt like we were finally beginning to unwind, to shake off everything that had been weighing us down.

I stepped back to look at the tents, my kids already making themselves at home in the small space. The night stretched on, and the stars above shimmered brightly, untouched by city lights. A small, satisfying sense of peace settled over me. Let's get the fire going, I said, as I gathered the wood from the wood from the city lights. the pile nearby. We'll make this a night to remember. And for a while, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be. The night was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of wood as I arranged the logs into the fire pit. The kids were chattering away, gathering sticks and small pieces of kindling to help me get the fire going. Ryan was a little more hesitant with the matches,

but Emily was practically bouncing, too eager to wait. I struck the match and held it to the dry kindling. The flames caught quickly and soon the fire was crackling, casting flickering shadows across our small campsite. The warm from the fire felt good, especially after the chill of the night air. Emily was already holding out her marshmallow stick, her face lit up by the orange glow of the flames. I'm going to roast the perfect marshmallow, she declared, her voice filled with determination. I laughed. You say that every time, M. Let's see if you can actually pull it off tonight. Ryan didn't say anything but smirked, pulling out his own stick and skewering a marshmallow. He wasn't one for talking

much, but I could see the peace settling in him too. We sat there for a while, the fire's warmth and the quiet of the forest surrounding us. The sound of the crackling fire and the occasional rustle of the trees above were oddly comforting. For a while, everything felt perfect. distractions, no city noise. Just us. The kind of peaceful moment I had been longing for. But then something shifted in the air, a feeling I couldn't quite place. The firelight flickered, casting longer shadows than it should have, and suddenly, I had the eerie sense that we weren't alone. I looked up, my gaze automatically drawn to the edge of the clearing where the trees started to grow thicker. At first, it was just the blackness of the woods, an impact.

penetrable mass of shadows. But then, I saw it. A figure. It was far away, standing just at the edge of the forest, barely visible in the distance. But the thing that struck me first was its smile. It was too bright. Too wide. It shone through the darkness like it was carved from light itself, cutting through the night like a cruel, mocking mockery of joy. Its eyes, bright and unnaturally white, seemed to pierce through the distance. I could see everything, its grin, its eyes, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make out the shape of the creature. It was like the shadows themselves were swallowing up the figure, distorting it beyond recognition. My breath caught in my throat, and I blinked hard, trying to make sense of it.

Was it real? Was it my mind playing tricks on me? The figure didn't move, just stood there, grinning. I blinked again, and in that instant, it vanished. The clearing was empty once more, the only sound the crackling of the fire. I shook my head, telling myself it was nothing. Just the dark woods playing tricks on me. But the unease still clung to me like a second skin. I forced myself to focus back on the fire, to focus on the kids. Everything all right?

asked, his voice sharp as if he sensed the sudden shift in my mood. Yeah, just, got a little distracted, I muttered, trying to shake the feeling off. Nothing to worry about, but I couldn't ignore the knot that had formed in my stomach. The image of that smile, that unnatural grin, lingered in the back of my mind. I shook my head again, forcing myself to focus on the present. Emily was happily toasting her marshmallow, oblivious to the tension that had settled. into the air. Ryan, too, seemed fine, poking at the fire with a stick, his expression as casual as ever. But even though the firelight was warm, I couldn't shake the chill that had crawled up my

spine. We stayed out there for a while longer, trying to enjoy the moment. But the air felt heavier now, the shadows deeper. The distant woods, once welcoming, now felt suffocating. All right, guys, I said, my voice more clipped than I intended. Let's finish up and head inside the tents. We don't want to be out here too late. Emily pouted but nodded, reluctantly pulling her marshmallow away from the fire. Fine, Daddy. I'll save the rest for tomorrow. Ryan followed suit, tossing his half-eaten marshmallow onto the ground with a flick of his wrist. We doused the fire, stamping out the last of the embers, the air cooling immediately. The night was darker now, the sky overhead almost suffocating in its blackness.

Come on, guys, I said again, more urgently this time, my unease growing stronger. Let's get inside the tents. We grabbed our things and hurried toward the tense, a palpable tension in the air. I could still feel that strange, unsettling sensation clinging to me, like something wasn't right. But we made it to the tents, the zippered flaps a welcome barrier between us and the vathe. empty woods outside. As I tucked Emily into her sleeping bag and Ryan settled into his, the tent felt too small, too closed in. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was out there, something that wasn't meant to be seen, something that was waiting. Good night, kids, I said, forcing a smile, but even my voice didn't sound as convincing as I wanted it to.

Good night, Dad, Ryan mumbled, his voice already half lost to sleep. Night, Daddy, Emily whispered, her eyes already fluttering closed. I lay there in the dark, the sounds of the forest all around us. But I couldn't sleep. Every creek, every rustle of the trees made my heart race, and my mind kept replaying the image of that smile, that unnaturally bright grin. Somewhere, in the distance, I knew it was still there, waiting. The morning light seeped into the tent through the small cracks in the fabric,

casting soft beams across the ground. I woke up first, before the kids. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I just lay there, listening to the stillness of the woods around us. The air was cool but not cold, the kind of morning where you could breathe deep and feel a crisp freshness in your lungs. Emily was curled up in her sleeping bag, her soft blonde hair falling in waves over the pillow. Her breathing was steady, and I could hear the occasional soft sigh escape her lips.

Ryan, too, was still asleep, his sandy hair tousled and his freckled face peaceful in a way that made me smile. I didn't want to wake them up. Instead, I just lay there for a while, watching them, feeling this odd sense of contentment. But there was something else, something I couldn't quite shake. A creeping sense of unease, like a shadow lingering in the back of my mind, whispering that something wasn't quite right. I rubbed my face with one hand, trying to shake the fogginess from my brain. The weird feeling I had last night still clung to me like a thick fog.

That smile. The eyes. The feeling that I wasn't alone out here, even though there was no one around. I shifted slightly, trying not to wake the kids, and pushed the thought away. I didn't want to overthink it. It was probably just the isolation, the one. woods playing tricks on my mind. The quietness of everything. I had to snap out of it. I slowly unzipped the flap of the tent and stepped out, the cool morning air hitting me as I stood up.

I looked out over the clearing, at the small patch of woods beyond. The fog from the night had lifted, but the trees still loomed ominously, their dark shapes reaching up toward the sky. The fire pit from last night was nothing but a pile of ash now, and the camp seemed even quieter than before. I bent down to pick up a stray stick, my hands moving mechanically. As I straightened up, I glanced back at the tent. The kids were still asleep.

They looked so peaceful, like nothing could ever hurt them. And that was the thing that made me feel, off. How could something that peaceful and perfect exist in the middle of such a strange, unsettling place? I tried to shake it off again, focusing on. the present. I leaned against a nearby tree, my fingers tracing the rough bark as I stared into the distance. But then, just like the night before, that nagging feeling returned. The words I'd said yesterday, while driving, how everything was fine, how the trip was going great, how the kids were excited, it didn't sit right. My voice still echoed in my mind,

and it felt rehearsed. Like something I had said before. Over and over again. But I couldn't remember when. I let out a quiet sigh and turned back toward the tent. The kids were still asleep. I almost wanted to let them sleep in, give them the extra time to rest before we started the day. But a part of me couldn't shake the thought that something was wrong. Something beyond the usual fatherly concerns. Something deeper. Something I couldn't explain. As I stood there, lost in thought, I found myself. staring at the trees once more. The woods were still and silent, as though holding their breath. I couldn't help but feel that at any moment, something was going to break the stillness.

The woods were alive, yes, but there was something unnatural about it. It wasn't the peaceful kind of alive. It was a quiet, waiting kind of alive. My hand twitched, and I realized I had been standing there too long. I needed to focus on the kids. On the trip. I was their dad. I was supposed to be their protector. I couldn't let my mind wander like this. I took one last deep breath and started to head back toward the tent,

but then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it, a flicker. Something moving in the distance. The trees shifted, but it wasn't wind. I stopped dead in my tracks. For just a second, I thought I saw a figure, a shape, just a little. at the edge of my vision. I blinked quickly, but it was gone. I rubbed my eyes. What was going on with me? Maybe it was just the fog of sleep or the strange feeling that had been hanging over me since last night. But that wasn't the point. The point was, something wasn't right.

I shook my head and walked back to the tent, trying to clear my thoughts. When I unzipped the door and crawled inside, the smell of damp earth and fabric hit me. The kids were still sound asleep. Emily's soft snores filled the quiet space, and Ryan's face was buried in the pillow, his body curled up like a little ball. I sat on the ground next to them, staring at their peaceful faces. I couldn't help but smile at how innocent they looked. But the smile didn't reach my eyes. I could feel the weight of something pressing on me, something I couldn't explain. I wanted to say something, to shake the feeling off, but instead, I just sat there. Watching. Waiting. Trying to ignore the nagging voice in my head telling me that something

was wrong. That I had missed something. That my words from yesterday, the driving, the laughter, everything, they didn't belong. I wasn't sure what I was doing anymore. But I couldn't leave. I couldn't shake the idea that something was watching us, waiting for us to make the next move. I just hoped I was wrong. The sun was already high in the sky when I finally made my way back into the tent. The kids were still sound asleep, curled up together like they didn't have a care in the world. I smiled at the sight, how innocent they looked. How easy it seemed for them to just slip into peaceful dreams. I stretched my arms overhead, feeling the crisp morning air through the fabric of the tent.

It was time to start the day. I didn't want to rush them, but I also wanted to make the most of the trip. I crouched down beside Emily, gently brushing a few stray hairs from her face. Hey, Princess, I whispered, my voice soft but firm enough to rouse her from her sleep. Time to wake up. Emily stirred, blinking her bright blue eyes as she slowly woke up. A small smile spread across her face when she saw me. Morning, Daddy, she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep.

Ryan was harder to wake. His messy brown hair was tangled in a way that made him look even younger than his ten years. I nudged him, shaking him gently by the shoulder. Hey, bud, time to get up. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Do we have to? I chuckled softly. Yeah, we have to.

But guess what? We've got a whole day ahead of us. We're going to have fun today. That seemed to do the trick. Ryan let out a half yawn, half laugh, and sat up, rubbing his eyes. What are we doing? I grinned, already knowing what I wanted to do next. How about a game of hide and seek?

I suggested, my voice carrying an excitement I hoped they would catch. Emily jumped up instantly. Yes. Let's do it. Can I hide first? Ryan nodded enthusiastically. I'll find you, Emily. You'll never get away from me.

I laughed, shaking my head. All right, all right. Let's get outside. We'll start fresh in the woods. We crawled out of the tent and into the cool morning air. The woods stretched out before us, vast and inviting. The trees were thick, and I knew the kids would have a blast running around, playing their games in the open space. Okay, Emily, you're up first, I said. You hide,

and Ryan and I will count. Emily didn't hesitate. She darted off, already trying to find the perfect hiding spot, her blonde hair bouncing behind her. Ryan counted loudly, his voice echoing through the woods. One, two, three. I grinned as Emily disappeared behind a large tree, her giggle barely audible. Ryan and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to stifle our laughter as we began to search for her. The day was filled with games, tag, racing, and more hide and seek. The kids were full of energy, laughing and shouting as they ran through the woods, their voices carrying through the air. The sounds of their joy made the woods feel less foreboding, less strange.

For a while, I could almost forget the nagging feeling I'd had earlier. By the time the sun started to dip beneath the trees, we were all worn out, our faces flushed from running around. I led them back to the campfire, where we settled down and made our dinner, simple hot dogs and marshmallows roasted over the fire. The smell of sizzling food mixed with the fresh sun. scent of the woods, and for a moment, everything felt normal. After dinner, we all sat around the fire, the flames crackling and dancing in the night air. The sky was clear, the stars twinkling

above, and the moon hung low, casting an eerie glow over the camp. The kids looked content, tired but happy, their eyes wide as they gazed into the fire. All right, I said, wiping my hands on my pants. It's getting late. Time to get ready. for bed. Emily groaned but nodded. Do we have to? I nodded. We'll have another fun day tomorrow, but it's important to get some sleep. We got everything settled, the tent zipped up for the night, and the kids snuggled into their sleeping bags. They were both still full of energy, their excitement from the day not quite ready to fade. Can you tell us a bedtime story, Daddy? Emily asked, her voice soft but hopeful.

Ryan nodded, his eyes already starting to droop. Please, Dad. I chuckled, sitting down on the edge of their sleeping bags. I had a lot of stories to choose from, but something about this moment felt right for an old classic. All right, how about Romeo and Juliet? I said. They both perked up, intrigued by the idea of a love story.

I wasn't sure if they fully under. understood the depth of it, but I figured it might be fun to share. Once upon a time, I began, my voice lowering to a soothing tone, there were two families, the Montags and the Capulets. They hated each other, like, really hated each other. And then, one night, at a big party, two of their children, Romeo and Juliet, met. I could see their faces light up as I began the tale. I told them the story of forbidden love, of how Romeo and

Romeo and Juliet fell for each other at first sight, their love defying the long-standing feud between their families. I skipped over the darker parts, the tragedy of the ending, but focused on the pure connection between the two. Romeo and Juliet couldn't be together, I said, my voice heavy with emotion. But they still fought for their love. They tried to make it work, even when the world didn't want them to. And even though they didn't get the happy ending they deserved, their love.

was remembered for all time. As I finished the story, I looked down at Emily and Ryan. They were both asleep, their faces peaceful, their bodies curled into their sleeping bags. I smiled softly, tucking the blanket tighter around them. I glanced toward the entrance of the tent, my thoughts drifting again to the woods outside. The feeling of being watched, of something lurking just beyond the trees, crept back into my mind. But I pushed it aside. focusing on the warmth of the fire and the peaceful breaths of my children. I had to believe everything was fine. I had to.

I woke up in the middle of the night, my body stiff with tension, my eyes snapping open as I heard it, the sound that didn't belong. At first, I couldn't place it. A low will, distant but unmistakable. It wasn't the usual wildlife noises of the forest. It was a long, drawn-out sound, almost animal. but there was something off about it. It didn't belong here.

It seemed to pierce through the silence, eerie and unnatural. A second will join the first, then another, until they all merged into a horrible, rhythmic cacophony. The more I heard it, the more it felt like a warning. Like the creatures of the forest were trying to tell me something. The noise was growing louder, more frantic, as if something was moving, something large, something that didn't belong. A chill ran down my spine, and I instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around me, my heart pounding in my chest. Suddenly, a gust of wind howled through the trees,

shaking the tent, making the branches creak as though something was forcing its way through the woods. The wheeling noises stopped for a brief moment, leaving only the whisper of the wind, but the eerie quiet that followed was worse. It was as though everything had gone still, waiting. I slowly sat up, trying to calm my breathing, but my skin prickled with a strange, cold sweat. There was something outside, something that made the forest feel wrong, something that was lurking just beyond the shadows. And then, in the silence that followed, I heard the sound again, a wheel, sharper this time, closer, almost as if it was coming from right outside my tent.

My body tensed. I wasn't sure whether it was my imagination running wild or if something. something truly was out there, but I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever it was, it was watching me, waiting for the right moment to make itself known. I lay there in the dark, my mind racing. The strange wheeling sounds from outside seemed to echo through my skull, and every time they paused, I felt as though something was getting closer. It felt like the entire forest was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen. With my heart pounding, I slowly reached for the zipper of the tent. My fingers trembled as I unzipped it just a bit, trying not to make any noise.

I peered out into the blackness. At first, I saw nothing. But then, something caught my eye in the corner of my vision, something tall, something unnatural. A towering figure, standing just beyond the reach of the firelight. It was massive, easily 12 feet tall, its form a void of pure darkness. It absorbed all the light around it, making the air around it feel colder, heavier. Its body was featureless, a silhouette that seemed to bend and stretch in the shadows. The creature's arms hung unnaturally low, down to its knees, and its fingers, they were twisted, gnarled, like broken branches of some ancient tree. Its hair was blacker than the night itself, so dark it seemed to suck in the light around it.

But the worst part wasn't its size or its form. No, it was the eyes. Those eyes, stark white scara with pitch-black pupils, locked onto mine, and I felt a shiver run through me that had nothing to do with the cold. It was the smile. The grin. It was impossibly bright, glowing in the dark like a cruel mockery of light. It sliced through the night, too wide, too bright, and it never wavered.

The creature just stood there, its head tilted slightly as it stared at it. me, its grin never faltering. It wasn't moving, just watching. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, my throat closing up. Fear crawled up my spine, cold and unrelenting. I snapped the zipper shut, nearly panicking as I quickly backed away from the tent opening. My breath came in shallow gasps, my body trembling with adrenaline. I could feel a sense of terror rising in me, like I was suffocating. I glanced over at my kids, Emily and Ryan, still sound asleep in their sleeping bags, oblivious to the nightmare outside. How could they not sense it? How could they sleep through this? I forced myself to

calm down, but my mind was screaming. I had to get us out of here. I had to leave. But I couldn't think straight. Not yet. I needed to wake them, get them moving. Hey, hey, kids. Wake up. We need to go. It's time to leave, I whispered urgently, my voice horse. Emily stirred first, blinking sleepily at me, her expression confused. Dad? What's going on? Why are we leaving?

Ryan Grogly sat up, rubbing his eyes. What happened, Dad? Why do we have to go? I forced a smile, even though my stomach was tied in knots. There's been a change of plans. It's time to head home. We need to leave now, okay? I said, trying to sound normal, but I knew I was failing.

My voice was too sharp, too panicked. Emily tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she studied me. Dad, why do you look so scared? I froze, not knowing how to answer her. My heart was pounding too hard in my chest, my thought spinning too fast. I couldn't even bring myself to tell her the truth. Instead, I reached for the zipper again, my hands trembling. I unzipped it just a bit, just enough to peek outside.

And it was gone. The creature was no longer there. I shoved my shoes on, fumbling with the laces as I tied them tightly. Hurry up, kids. I called. They quickly bent down, hands smoothing the laces, each pair aligned with careful precision as they slipped their shoes on without a word. But I didn't wait.

I didn't hesitate. My heart leaped into my throat, and I grabbed the kids, pulling them to their feet. Come on, we're leaving, now, I said, my voice trembling. I didn't care that everything was still packed up, that we hadn't finished everything. All I knew was that we had to go, and we had to go fast. The moment I zipped the tent closed behind us, I led them into the night. not daring to look back. I didn't care what was left behind.

I didn't care about anything but getting us out of the woods, away from whatever was out there watching us. The air felt thick with dread, like the forest itself was holding us in its grip, unwilling to let go. The silence was deafening as I urged my kids forward, my own fear gnawing at me, pushing me to move faster. Something was still out there. Something that wanted to hurt us.

and I had to get us to safety before it found us again. As we ran, the strange noises intensified. At first it was just the wind rustling through the trees, but then came the sounds, the eerie, unnatural sounds. It was as if the entire forest had come alive. Dogs barking, sharp and frantic, pierced the air. But then, it wasn't just dogs. Birds began to shriek and chirp, their calls frantic.

overlapping with the barking. Owls hooted in the distance, their voices echoing through the woods, but it wasn't normal. It was all happening at once, in a chaotic symphony of animal sounds, and each noise seemed to be getting closer. Closer. As if something, or someone, was chasing us through the dark. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as I pushed the kids forward. They stumbled behind me, their legs tired, but I couldn't slow down. We had to keep moving. I was focusing on the ground, watching every step, dodging roots and rocks, my feet pounding against the uneven terrain. The trees blurred past me in the dark, their gnarled branches reaching out like claws, but I didn't have time to look up. I had to keep my eyes trained on

the path, on where my feet landed. Stay close. I shouted over my shoulder, trying to keep my voice steady, but it came out sharp, panicked. Emily and Ryan were right behind me, but I could hear them breathing heavily, their feet slapping against the forest floor, trying to match my pace. I heard Ryan Tripp, his feet catching on something, but he managed to keep his balance. Come on! I urged, not daring to turn around. The animal noises were getting louder, closer.

The barking sounded like it was directly behind us, the Yelps echoing in the stillness of the night. And then there was the flurry of bird calls, more intense now, frantic, desperate, like they were being hunted, too. The wind seemed to pick up, whistling through the trees, and every branch seemed to snap underfoot as I raced past them. Faster. I urged, my own breath coming in ragged gasps. I could hear my heart thundering in my chest, and the fear was suffocating. It wasn't just the animals. It was the feeling. The unmistakable sense that we were being watched. That something, or someone, was trailing us, just out of sight, but closing in with every passing second. The path was narrowing now, and I had to duck under branches and dodge low-hanging limbs.

The forest around me was alive with the sounds of chaos, dogs barking, birds screeching, owls hooting. It was all blending together into a maddening cacophony that seemed to follow us, pulling us deeper into the woods. I glanced back once, just a quick glance, and saw nothing but darkness. But I could feel it. Something was out there, something chasing us. I could hear the kids breathing hard now, Emily's voice trembling. Dad, what's happening? Why are we running?

I didn't have an answer. I couldn't even form a coherent thought. I just knew that we had to keep going. We couldn't stop. We couldn't look back. Every step felt like it was taking us farther from safety. But the noise, the unnerving chaos of the forest, it was closing in. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

But all I could do was run. Run, and keep running. We stumbled out of the woods, breathless and panicked, crashing through the underbrush, desperate to find any kind of safety. And there it was, the familiar building. The one where we had paid to get into the woods, where we had seen the security guard earlier. It loomed in the distance, the light from a single overhead lamp

flickering in the haze of the night. We rushed toward it, and as we neared the entrance, I saw the security guard sitting in his chair, his feet kicked up on the desk. He was still there, calm, unaware of the terror that had been stalking us. I could barely catch my breath, my chest tight with panic as I approached him. You've got to help us. Something's out there, something wrong, I shouted, my voice cracking with fear. The security guard looked up slowly, his expression unchanging.

He didn't move for a moment, just dared. at me as though I had lost my mind. Then, he shifted in his seat and scratched his chin. Look, buddy, it's late, and we get all kinds of stories around here. People see things in the woods all the time. You just need to calm down, all right. His nonchalance made my stomach twist into knots. I could feel the fear rising in my chest again, burning through me.

No. You don't understand. There's something out there. something following us. Please, you have to help us. But the guard just shook his head, unbothered. All right, all right. I'm sure you've had a rough night, but it's just wildlife.

Maybe you should head back to your car and get some rest. His dismissal was like a slap in the face. I felt a surge of frustration, of helplessness. The last thing I wanted to do was argue with this guy. He didn't believe us, and the same thing. that only made it worse. Without thinking, I grabbed the kids by the hands. Let's go, I muttered under my breath, barely able to get the words out. We didn't have time to explain. We didn't have time for anyone's doubts. We turned away and ran for the car. My mind was

racing, my heart pounding. We had to get out of here. I fumbled with the keys, panic-clouding my every move. My hands were shaking. my vision blurry as I tried to unlock the car. I could hear the security guard's voice calling after us, but I didn't care. I couldn't stay there. Not with what we had seen. Finally, the door clicked open. I shoved the kids in, slammed the door shut, and started the engine.

My hands were still shaking as I gripped the steering wheel, but I didn't stop to think. I floored the accelerator, speeding away from the woods, from the night. that had followed us. We drove in silence, my kids silent in the back seat. It felt like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before I saw the familiar roads of home. Three hours away. When I finally pulled into the driveway, the weight of everything came crashing down on me. It was still dark, still night, just like when we had left. But the silence of home felt like a relief. I could feel my heart rate slowing, the tanker. and my muscles starting to release, even though the terror was still lodged deep in my chest.

We were safe. We had made it home. But as I sat there in the car, staring at the darkened house, the unease didn't leave. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still out there. Something we had narrowly escaped. Something I didn't want to think about. But we were home. That was all that mattered, for now.

I sat on the couch, exhausted, my body still tense from the terror we had just experienced. My daughter, still unable to shake off what had happened, quietly ate her cereal at the table. It was well past 3 a.m., and she hadn't been able to sleep since we got back. Then, I heard it. The faint sound of keys jingling, the unmistakable noise of the door unlocking. I froze, sitting upright, my heart suddenly racing. It was a sound I knew all too well. My wife had returned.

I'd called her earlier, telling her everything that had happened, and she must have hurried home. The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, closing it behind her. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. She looked at me, concerned. What happened, she asked, as she walked in, eyes searching my face for answers. I opened my mouth, ready to explain, but the words came out haltingly. I tried to tell her what we had seen, how something in the woods had been following us, something with an eerie, glowing smile.

I spoke about the security guard, about the terrifying creature that had been standing outside our tent, its features unnatural and horrifying. But she didn't believe me. Come on, honey, she said gently, clearly trying to calm me. It was probably just the dark. You've had a rough night, that's all. It's okay, but the last thing I heard before everything went silent was my daughter's trembling voice looking out the window. Daddy, there's a smiling man outside.