#horror script

INT. FUNERAL HOME - DAY

Two caskets, flowers, mourning family. A YOUNG BOY (10), wearing a suit, a FRESH SCAR on his chin, and a tear-streaked face sits alone in a chair. Nearby, FATHER CLAYTON (30s) speaks softly to a MIDDLE-AGED COUPLE.

FATHER CLAYTON

With every end comes a new beginning. They are with God now. One can only pray that the sad and unfortunate horrors that put them there will come to an end as a result of this, and leave the innocent among us in peace.

In the young boy's eyes, sadness becomes determination, and rage.

FATHER CLAYTON (O.C.)

(Trailing off)

Justice comes in many forms. I and the young brethren at the college will pray for ...

FADE TO:

EXT. WOODED PATH - FALL - NIGHT

GEORGE and ED (both 50s and overweight) huff along a dark, wooded path on a moonlit night, breath showing in the cold air. Both are squeezed into tattered fraternity letter jackets, Alpha Omega, their faces painted like skulls.

George takes a tentative sip from a bottle of alcoholic cider. Ed's hand enters frame and slaps the bottle from Frank's, sending it airborne.

ED

Jesus, G. Why you drinking that pussy shit?

GEORGE

It's all Christine will let me keep in the house. Better than nothing.

Ed eyes George as he takes a long pull from a pocket flask.

ED

No. No, it is not better than nothing. Here, I'm already fucked up.

Ed shoves the flask into George's chest. George accepts it, takes a sip, winces, coughs.

GEORGE

Where the hell is everyone?

ED

Probably up ahead with the pledge. I think they changed up how this works since we were active.

GEORGE

The school turned all religious and shit, hasn't recognized Greeks for years. So I guess they can do whatever the hell they want.

Ed scoffs.

ED

Not like that stopped us before. I hear it's a goddamn dry campus too. Shit. Poor bastards.

(Beat)

We the only alumni tonight?

GEORGE

Dunno. I guess. Sully fell off the face of the earth, MIA. Same with Pauly, Brian ... And you heard about Clem.

ED

Shit. Clem, yeah. His son Charlie was in the car too.

GEORGE

His own fault. He never learned to drive after a few measly tequila shots. Same thing with Gerry. Idiot left Mook's wedding, out of his mind, mowed down that kid and old couple. Gotta practice before driving that wasted. Now he's got twenty years left out of his thirty to serve.

ED

And Eric, slamming into that teacher. Mrs. Sutton, I think, right? Killed her. Stupid prick.

(Beat)

Hey wasn't Mook at last year's initiation? I couldn't make it until this year.

GEORGE

Same here. He said he was going, though, yeah. Never heard how it went.

George takes another drink from the flask, coughs.

GEORGE (CONT'D)

Guess we're a dying breed, you and me. If the booze itself doesn't kill us.

EXT. SMALL CLEARING - NIGHT

The two men emerge from the woods. In the clearing's center is a small, old, stone amphitheater, set into the ground. A HOODED PERSON is seated in a chair in the center of the amphitheater, a black, cloth sheet covering their head and upper half of their body. No one else is present.

GEORGE

What, just one pledge?

ED

This is pathetic. They gotta get their numbers up or there'll be no one left.

GEORGE

Alright, so what now?

Ed produces a paper note from a pocket.

ED

Invite says wear letters, skull-face, come to the initiation spot. That's it. So where the hell is everyone?

GEORGE

(Calling out)

Alpha Omegas! Come out! Let's get this show on the road!

Only the wind and skittering leaves.

ED

Oh fuck this, let's just get started. You remember how it goes.

GEORGE

Yeah, but I really gotta take a piss. You go on ahead. I'll be right back.

Ed stumbles into the amphitheater, rubbing his hands together, as George heads back into the woods a bit, back turned.

ED

Alright, pledge ...

EXT. WOODED PATH - NIGHT - MOMENTS LATER

George finishes, zips up, turns back toward the ...

EXT. CLEARING - NIGHT

George approaches the amphitheater, confused. A hooded person remains in the chair, but Ed can't be seen.

GEORGE

(Calling out)

Yo, Ed! Where'd you go off to?

Twigs SNAP from the treeline. George wheels about to see nothing, as MOANING and WEEPING come from the person in the chair. George grins.

GEORGE

What the hell are you whimpering about? Huh, pleeb? Had enough of Brother Ed?

George enters the amphitheater, takes a long swig from Ed's flask. WEEPING continues.

GEORGE

Damn. One fucking pledge, and he's a blubbering pussy.

The whimpering becomes a GURGLING sound, then falls silent. George looks down to see a large, dark wet spot appearing on the seated person's lap. George laughs.

GEORGE

Holy shit, are you seriously pissing yourself right now?

Steam rises as the wet spot continues to grow, then down the person's pant legs. Confused, George watches as the pants become completely dark with wetness. A drip from a pant cuff onto the amphitheater floor, where the wetness remains dark. George bends for a closer look, sniffs the air, then dabs a finger into the puddle forming on the floor. In the moonlight, we see it is crimson. George stands slowly, pulls the sheet from the seated person's head.

It's Ed, motionless and silent, his throat slit ear-to-ear.

Before George can react, the blade of a large knife bursts through his chest from behind. Blood pours from his mouth as he gurgles and collapses into a heap on the floor. Standing there is a young PLEDGE (18), looking nervous but triumphant.

From the woods, FOOTFALLS, SNAPPING TWIGS. About thirty FRATERNITY BROTHERS enter the clearing. Their leader, ALPHA (20) enters the amphitheater. He has a familiar OLD SCAR on his chin. He picks up the dropped flask from the floor.

ALPHA

Two in one night. Well done. You should be proud.

(Louder)

We should all be proud! But this was the last of them. The last of the old ways. Now their legacy will no longer threaten the lives of current and future generations of our brotherhood, tainting the Alpha Omegas and what we stand for! Their deaths have helped ensure the safety of the pure and innocent. And with them goes the poison that sustained their kind for so long.

Alpha pours out the contents of the flask into the puddles of blood on the floor.

ALPHA

(Softly)

For you Gramma, Grampa. Charlie.

PLEDGE

(Softly)

Mom.

The last drops of alcohol fall, as does the flask. Father Clayton (now 40s) steps from the gathering of young men, up beside the pledge, placing a hand on his shoulder.

FATHER CLAYTON

Welcome to Alpha Omega, Brother Sutton.

Alpha and the surrounding crowd of brothers cheer into the night.