EXT. MOUNTAIN TRAIL - DAY
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN RANGE looms like a wall of jagged stone.
Brutal. Ancient.
Mist clings to towering pines -- thick, low.
Everything is still.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
FOOTSTEPS. In rhythm.
A YOUNG WOMAN (20s), athletic, jogs alone through a dense
pine forest. Earbuds in. Hood up.
Pines lean in.
Branches arch overhead like claws.
She runs deeper.
THROUGH THE TREES
A faint RUSTLE.
Behind a curtain of fog --
Something massive moves, flowing like liquid shadow.
BACK TO JOGGER
She slows -- posture tightening.
She glances over her shoulder --
Only trees. Fog.
She quickens her pace.
THROUGH THE TREES
Her figure appears in fractured glimpses through the mist.
Then --
A low GROWL vibrates the air. Deep. Resonant.
BACK TO JOGGER
She stops. Pulls out one earbud --
Silence.
Her jaw tightens. Eyes dart.
Pulls out the second earbud --
The forest rushes in --
Wind in branches. A distant bird. Her breath.
Then --
Nothing.
She exhales. Laughs. Shaky.
Turns to go --
SNAP.
A branch behind her jerks violently, recoiling from pressure.
She spins --
Eyes wide. Scanning...
Nothing.
Then --
Sound DROPS AWAY, drenching the scene in an uneasy, eerie
silence.
She backs up a step...
Suddenly --
WHAM!
A MASSIVE SHAPE explodes from the trees in a blur of CLAWS
AND FANGS.
The shadowy creature SMASHES into her like a wave hitting the
shore.
She hits the ground -- hard.
She screams -- choked, guttural -- then slides into shadow.
The forest exhales.
Then --
Silence.
Stillness.
A single, blood-slick sneaker lies abandoned in the dirt.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
Echoes of the Mountain
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLIFF - DAY
A hand clamps down on a rock face -- fingers straining,
dusted in chalk.
CLARE LOCKWOOD (30s) ascends a sheer granite wall. Every
muscle taut.
Her face -- a mix of quiet determination and weariness.
Sweat beads down her temple, cut by the thin mountain air.
Below her, the world falls away --
The Rocky Mountains stretch endlessly, a dizzying drop into
shadowed wilderness.
Clare pauses.
Inhales. Slow. Measured.
EXT. MOUNTAIN SUMMIT - DAY (FLASHBACK)
YOUNG CLARE (10) sits beside her father, RAY LOCKWOOD (30s),
a slab of a man, on a sunlit peak high above the clouds.
Her cheeks are red from the cold, eyes wide with wonder.
Below them, the world stretches endlessly --
Pine forests fade into a blue haze.
Ray removes his gloves -- brushes windblown snow from Clare’s
hair.
RAY
Up here. The world stops.
He closes his eyes, listening.
RAY (CONT'D)
And if you listen close enough...
You can hear the mountain
breathing.
YOUNG CLARE
Breathing? Really?
He nods, half-smiling -- coughs. Dry. Harsh. Wrong.
RAY
It’s alive. Everything up here is.
Even the silence.
The sound of the wind deepens --
A low hum that seems to come from within the mountain itself.
He looks out toward the horizon -- distant, haunted.
END FLASHBACK
Genres:
["Drama","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Climbing Urgency
EXT. ROCK FACE - DAY (PRESENT DAY)
Clare reaches for the next hold.
CRACK.
A rock dislodges, tumbling into the void until it disappears.
Her phone vibrates on the strap around her arm --
A faint buzz against the cliff face.
She ignores it.
Keeps climbing.
It buzzes again. Longer than before.
Clare mutters to herself, annoyed.
She shifts her weight --
One hand dangles hundreds of feet above the ground as she
fumbles the phone free.
CLARE
This better be good, Bill.
BILL (V.O.)
(beat)
Fatal attack in Black Ridge. I need
you and Jack on-site now.
Clare’s grip tightens on the stone. Her eyes harden.
CLARE
Jesus, a fatality?
A pause. Only wind hissing through.
Then -- a rough exhale.
BILL (V.O.)
Just get up there, Clare.
Clare exhales sharply -- looks down --
Past her boots --
Down the sheer rock wall --
Into the forest sprawling far below.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Into the Mountains
INT. COLORADO PARKS AND WILDLIFE - OFFICE - DAY
A cluttered, wood-paneled office. Maps of the Rocky Mountains
plaster the walls, dotted with pins and markers.
Clare pushes through the door, dressed in field gear.
Her eyes land on JACK COLLINS (40s), a good soldier gone
civilian, sitting with his boots propped on the desk.
A scar at Jack’s throat catches the light --
Pale and twisted, like an old wound that still whispers.
CLARE
You talk to Bill?
Jack lowers his boots, studies her.
JACK
Jogger went missing yesterday.
Found her this morning.
He looks away -- jaw tense.
JACK (CONT'D)
Or what’s left of her.
Clare doesn't blink.
Jack leans back with arms crossed -- sizing her up like he’s
measuring how much weight she can carry.
JACK (CONT'D)
Don’t let it spook you. The
mountains don’t care who you are.
Clare snaps open her rifle case -- slides her 270 Winchester
out with clean efficiency.
CLARE
Then let’s not keep them waiting.
Jack grabs his gear, shrugs into his field jacket.
EXT. WILDLIFE OFFICE - DAY
The only truck in the lot -- a white Ford truck with "CPW"
decals on the doors.
Clare hauls her pack and rifle case into the bed, her
movements controlled and tight.
Jack tosses a beat-up Army duffel bag and rifle case in, with
a soldier’s carelessness.
Clare pauses.
Her gaze climbs the tree line --
Higher, to the jagged peaks beyond.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
Nature's Majesty and Human Folly
EXT. MOUNTAIN PASS - DAY
The CPW truck rumbles along a narrow, winding road -- carved
into the mountainside.
Towering pines and jagged cliffs loom on either side.
INT. TRUCK - DAY
Clare grips the wheel -- focused, steady.
Jack sips from a battered gas station coffee cup, steam
curling upward in lazy spirals.
The truck rounds a bend, and the world opens up –
Through the windshield --
The majestic Rocky Mountains rise in a jaw-dropping panorama
-- bathed in morning light.
Immense. Sacred.
Both fall silent.
Clare eases off the gas instinctively, letting the view
breathe.
JACK
Never gets old, does it?
CLARE
Nope.
(beat)
It’s the only place I ever really
felt small -- in a good way.
Jack leans toward the window, letting the silence between
them stretch.
The pines blur past like brushstrokes in motion.
Clare’s face softens. A moment of awe, unguarded.
They round another curve --
The landscape changes -- the road descends into a scar --
An open-pit mine, vast and gaping like a wound in the earth.
Trucks the size of houses crawl through switchbacks.
Plumes of black dust rise like smoke from a dying fire.
Clare’s fingers tighten on the wheel.
CLARE (CONT'D)
We sell postcards of paradise... so
we can pave right over it.
Jack watches a dump truck disgorge loads of raw stone into
the abyss below.
JACK
Everybody wants their own little
slice of nature.
(beat)
At least the illusion of it.
A heavy silence settles.
Clare’s gaze drifts to the treeline -- dense, dark, watchful.
For a moment, it feels like the pines are leaning in,
listening.
Then --
Up ahead, a battered yellow highway sign pierces the mist --
“BEWARE OF MOUNTAIN LIONS.”
Clare's breath catches.
Her eyes flick to her hands -- tight on the wheel.
A faded scar runs the length of her index finger.
She shifts in her seat, uneasy.
Then reaches into her jacket pocket -- pulls out an inhaler,
takes a sharp, practiced pull.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Arrival in Black Ridge
EXT. BLACK RIDGE - DAY
The CPW truck rattles into the remote mountain town, dwarfed
by the jagged Rockies looming on all sides.
The place feels isolated -- a pocket of civilization clinging
to the wilderness.
A battered roadside sign creaks in the wind --
“WELCOME TO BLACK RIDGE – ELEVATION 9,412 FT.”
As the truck rolls down the only main street, we see --
A strip of cabins, a weathered gas station, a diner, and a
general store with antlers nailed above the door.
The air feels heavy. Quiet. Too quiet.
The truck passes the diner, its neon sign sputtering “OPEN.”
For a split second, the “O” flickers out -- reading “PEN.”
THROUGH THE TREES
TWO YELLOW EYES emerge from darkness.
Watching.
Waiting.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
The Sheriff’s Warning
INT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE – DAY
Dim. Stale. A room frozen in time. Wood-paneled walls warped
with age.
Behind the desk, SHERIFF BAUER (late 60s), built like an old
oak trunk, leans back in his chair, hat tipped low.
He lifts the brim as Clare and Jack enter -- eyes sharp,
unreadable.
SHERIFF BAUER
You the wildlife folks?
CLARE
Clare Lockwood, Colorado Parks and
Wildlife. This is Jack Collins, my
partner.
Sheriff Bauer shifts in his chair, nervous.
SHERIFF BAUER
You folks always show up after the
mountain takes its toll.
JACK
Bad news doesn’t RSVP.
Sheriff Bauer stands -- slow, deliberate, like a man who
hasn’t rushed in years.
He studies them for a beat.
The sheriff’s gaze lingers on Jack -- then slides back to
Clare.
SHERIFF BAUER
Follow me.
He turns toward the hallway that leads deeper into the
station.
Clare and Jack share a glance as they follow him, their
footsteps echoing on the warped wood floors.
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Sheriff Bauer pushes open a heavy door at the end of a
cinderblock hallway --
Air leaks out -- cold. Heavy.
SHERIFF BAUER
Brace yourselves.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
Morgue Revelations
INT. MORGUE - DAY
A cold, windowless chamber. White tile, scuffed and stained.
The fluorescent light overhead hums and flickers.
An old steel autopsy table dominates the center of the room.
A body bag lies atop it -- zipped shut.
Sheriff Bauer stands grim, one hand braced on the table.
He nods toward the bag.
His fingers linger on the zipper.
Clare sets her jaw. Steps closer.
Sheriff Bauer pulls the zipper...
The sound is long and metallic, slowly revealing --
A torso ripped open, ribs fractured outward.
The face --
Frozen mid-scream -- half-gone, cheek shredded to the bone.
One eye is glassy -- the other missing entirely.
Deep claw marks score across the abdomen.
The room falls still.
Clare swallows hard -- leans in, eyes narrowing.
She traces a gloved finger along the ribcage.
The wounds are jagged and vicious.
CLARE
Cervical vertebrae fractured in
three places... Jugular...
completely severed.
Jack traces his fingers over four deep, evenly spaced gouges
that stretch from the victim’s ribs to her hip.
Clare’s stomach tightens.
JACK
Claw marks appear to be --
Clare calculates the spread in her head.
CLARE
-- Over a foot across...
(to herself)
Doesn’t make any sense.
Clare steps back, processing.
Jack exhales sharply, rubbing his jaw.
Sheriff Bauer shifts uncomfortably.
SHERIFF BAUER
You ever seen an animal do that to
somebody?
Clare's face hardens. In her eyes -- a flicker of doubt.
CLARE
We need to investigate the attack
site before we draw any
conclusions.
Sheriff Bauer moves to a nearby metal filing cabinet and
pulls out a map, laying it on a side table.
He circles a spot on the map -- taps on it with his pen.
SHERIFF BAUER
One mile northwest of the main
trail as the crow flies.
CLARE
We’ll head there now -- make it
back before dark.
Sheriff Bauer studies them for a beat, then nods.
Jack and Clare turn toward the door.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
The Watchful Forest
EXT. MOUNTAIN TRAIL - DAY
The midday sun filters through the pine canopy, casting
shifting patches of light across the ground.
Clare and Jack move down a narrow trail, their boots sinking
into the soft earth.
The air grows heavier with each step -- muffled, as if the
woods are swallowing sound.
EXT. FOREST CLEARING - DAY
Jack and Clare step into a clearing -- scarred, silent.
Blood stains dirt in wide arcs, almost black.
Clare stops.
At her feet --
A PAW PRINT. Massive. Deep. Wider than her boot.
The forest falls silent.
No birds. No wind. Even the insects seem to vanish.
Clare crouches -- traces her finger along a claw groove.
Jack crouches beside her.
JACK
Those aren’t just deep. They’re...
heavy. Like whatever made them was
carrying more weight than it
should.
Clare looks up --
The trees feel closer now.
Watching.
She rises slowly.
Jack's hand shifts toward his rifle -- alert.
Clare’s eyes follow the branch upward into the shadows of the
canopy.
Suddenly --
A FLASH in the tree line.
Gone.
Her breath quickens.
CLARE
It’s watching us.
Jack unslings his Remington 700 -- eyes narrowing at the
dense wall of trees.
JACK
Good. Then we’re not wasting our
time.
The two stand back-to-back in the clearing, dwarfed by the
forest around them and mountains above.
A low GROWL rolls through the trees. Resonant. Too deep for
any predator they know.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
Predator's Approach
EXT. FOREST CLEARING - DAY
The last light of day bleeds through the trees.
Clare and Jack move in practiced silence, their breath
fogging in the still air.
The woods are still, the silence weighted -- like the forest
is listening.
Jack unloads gear from his pack --
Steel foothold traps, snares, and a sealed bucket labeled
“DEER MEAT.”
Clare unspools a chain, hammering an anchor stake into the
dirt.
CLARE
We’ll line them along the
perimeter. Predators circle before
they come back to feed.
JACK
And if this one doesn’t circle?
Clare doesn’t answer. She’s too focused.
She tightens the chain with a practiced twist.
SNAP.
The steel jaws clamp shut with a sharp metallic crack.
Clare resets it -- hands steady. Eyes less so.
Her eyes flick to the dark between the trees.
Jack kneels beside a fallen trunk, rolling back the lid of
the bait bucket.
The smell hits -- feral, wet, sweet rot.
He spears a chunk of blood-slick meat with a stick -- lays it
in the trap.
WHOOSH.
A bird explodes upward from the canopy -- cawing in terror.
Jack freezes, rifle half-raised.
Clare steadies him with a quiet hand.
CLARE
Probably just a deer.
Jack doesn’t move for a long moment.
His eyes stay fixed on the tree line -- finger resting on the
trigger guard.
The woods settle again.
A silence too absolute.
Then she feels it --
A low vibration underfoot --
Barely perceptible, like the ground itself is exhaling.
Wind stirs the treetops.
Then --
A distant ROAR.
It rolls across the valley. Long. Heavy -- vibrating their
bones.
Every tree in the clearing sways, perfectly in sync.
The roar fades -- but the trees keep swaying like a heartbeat
that isn’t theirs.
Clare's gaze locks onto the darkness of the forest.
Her eyes glint with fear in the dying light.
THROUGH THE TREES
TWO YELLOW EYES blink once --
Then vanish into darkness.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
Stormy Reflections
INT. DINER - NIGHT
A small-town diner. Faded linoleum floors.
Clare and Jack sit in a cracked vinyl booth near the window.
SANDY (50s), with kind eyes and nicotine laugh lines,
approaches with a coffee pot.
SANDY
Evenin.’ Coffee?
CLARE
Please.
Jack nods. Sandy pours. The coffee steams like oil.
SANDY
Kitchen’s slow tonight. Storm’s got
folks spooked.
JACK
Storm?
SANDY
First big one of the season.
Rolling down from the Divide by the
afternoon. You two still plan on
being around when it hits?
Clare glances at Jack.
CLARE
Looks that way.
Sandy studies them a beat too long.
SANDY
This about that missing girl?
JACK
Can’t comment on an active case,
ma’am.
Sandy leans closer.
SANDY
(whisper)
Sure. Just hope you find her before
the coyotes do.
Jack forces a smile.
Sandy shrugs -- shuffles off with the coffee pot.
Clare’s attention drifts -- pulled by something she can’t
quite name.
Across the diner, at a corner table half-buried in shadow,
WALTER (60s) sits alone with a bowl of stew growing cold.
He’s still, too still, like someone waiting for a cue only he
can hear.
Clare’s gaze slides over him.
For a heartbeat, Walter looks up -- meeting her eyes with
quiet, uncanny calm.
Not curiosity.
Assessment.
Clare blinks, unsettled.
Walter drops his eyes back to his spoon as if nothing
happened.
Jack's gaze grows thoughtful, fixed on the window.
JACK
You believe in things you can't
explain?
CLARE
I believe in evidence and
explanations.
JACK
You didn't answer the question. I'm
all for science, reasoning, but not
everything adds up sometimes... and
the stuff we can't make sense of,
that's where faith comes in.
CLARE
You sound like my father.
Jack perks up slightly.
JACK
You’ve never mentioned him.
Clare’s eyes drift to her reflection in the window -- a pale
ghost in the glass.
CLARE
Not much to mention. He died when I
was twelve.
(MORE)
CLARE (CONT'D)
Smoked three packs a day, thought
Marlboros built character.
(beat)
Wanted me to be a rodeo queen.
Ride a horse named... Starburst
Thunder. Wear sequins. Smile like I
meant it.
Jack leans back, smirks.
JACK
Starburst Thunder. Now that's a
name of destiny.
They share the first real flicker of warmth.
Sandy returns with two plates, setting them down with a
clatter.
CLARE
Why’d you leave the Army for...
this?
Jack leans back, his face unreadable.
JACK
Platoon was ambushed outside
Kundar. RPG hit the lead truck.
Everything turned to fire and
static.
And I—
(beat)
—I froze.
Clare’s jaw tightens—not judgment, but recognition. She
finally looks at him. Really looks.
JACK (CONT'D)
Men I trained with were screaming.
Smoke everywhere. Couldn’t see a
damn thing.
And I just…
(shakes head)
…locked up.
His hand starts to shake. He hides it under the table.
Clare shifts back—subtle, instinctive.
Jack sees it. Something vulnerable flashes across his face.
JACK (CONT'D)
I tell myself I froze because I
couldn’t see the enemy. But the
truth? The truth is uglier.
Jack leans closer. His face hardens.
JACK (CONT'D)
We trap this thing tonight, and we
can head out tomorrow before the
storm hits.
Clare looks out toward the mountains -- their silhouettes
shifting in the dark.
CLARE
I get the feeling those traps will
be empty tomorrow.
The diner lights hum louder.
JACK
Hope you're wrong about that.
CLARE
Me too.
Wind screams against the glass.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
The Clever Predator
EXT. FOREST CLEARING - DAY
The sky is overcast -- a low ceiling of clouds presses down
on the mountains.
Clare clenches her jaw as they enter the clearing --
The circle of traps remains exactly where they set them.
UNDISTURBED.
The bait rags --
GONE.
Only damp strings dangle where they were tied.
Jack kneels by one of the steel traps --
The jaws remain cocked -- unsprung.
JACK
Impossible...
Clare crouches beside him.
CLARE
Not impossible. Smart.
Jack glances at her, unsettled.
CLARE (CONT'D)
Predators adapt.
Jack points at the soil around the trap.
JACK
See here? It came in from the side.
Didn’t step where we wanted -- used
its muzzle -- maybe teeth, pulled
the rag off clean... Never touched
the plate.
Clare shakes her head, kneeling deeper into the dirt.
CLARE
It's smart. A problem solver.
Jack moves to another trap and kneels.
He brushes pine needles aside to reveal --
A massive, deep PAW PRINT beneath.
JACK
Not smart enough not to leave a
trail.
Clare’s gaze turns to claw impressions gouged into damp soil
-- subtle drag marks weave between pines.
Clare rises, brushing dirt from her gloves.
CLARE
If he doesn’t want to come to us,
we’ll go to him.
Jack nods his head and stands -- rifle ready.
Clare takes her inhaler from her pocket -- takes a deep pull.
The forest seems to lean closer -- listening.
Clare stares deep into the forest, uneasy.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
Into the Wilderness
EXT. MOUNTAIN HOUSE - DAY (FLASHBACK)
A clapboard cabin perches on the edge of a vast wilderness.
The Rocky Mountains rise behind it like the ribs of an
ancient, slumbering god.
YOUNG CLARE (11) steps off the back porch, a satchel slung
over one shoulder, a hunting knife nearly half her size
strapped to her hip.
YOUNG CLARE
I’m gonna go check the traps!
From inside the house --
CLARE’S DAD (O.S.)
You know the rules. Bring your
knife --
YOUNG CLARE
-- I got it, Dad.
She pats the handle of the knife like it makes her
invincible.
CLARE’S DAD (O.S.)
Good girl. Don’t be long.
She heads into the trees.
The air shifts.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
The Test of the Woods
EXT. MOUNTAIN FOREST - DAY
Sunlight spears through the canopy in fractured shafts.
The cabin disappears behind a wall of trunks.
Clare slows. Her breathing grows shallow.
A faint RUSTLE.
She places her hand on the knife.
Then another sound --
A whispering scrape -- like teeth grinding just beyond the
veil of trees.
She draws her knife quickly -- careless -- nicks her finger
with the blade.
YOUNG CLARE
(whisper)
Shit.
Blood beads along her skin, running in a perfect crimson
thread.
Then --
A GUTTURAL SNARL rips the silence open like fabric.
Clare freezes.
Then --
Something emerges from the brush --
A MOUNTAIN LION. Massive. Ten feet nose to tail.
Its tawny fur bristles -- amber eyes glowing like molten
coins in a black forge.
It paces slowly -- a ghost made of muscle and instinct.
The beast’s tail slices the air like a whip.
The forest leans inward. Every tree seems to watch.
Clare’s fingers shake.
The knife dips.
She swallows a scream. Trembles.
The lion crouches --
Legs coil.
Then --
It lunges at Clare with blinding speed, jaws gaped --
BANG!
A rifle shot cracks like thunder.
The lion jerks mid-air -- collapsing in a heap with a wet
thud.
Still.
The forest exhales.
Birds return in a distant flurry.
CLARE’S DAD (30s) steps from the trees -- a face carved from
stone and shadow.
His rifle smokes faintly in his hand.
He walks over to the beast -- nudges it with his boot --
Dead.
Clare doesn’t move.
Blood trickles down her hand, dripping onto pine needles
below.
Her eyes stay locked on the corpse.
Clare’s Dad kneels beside her, one hand firm on her shoulder.
CLARE’S DAD
Never go this deep alone. You’re
not ready yet.
She nods -- barely.
CLARE’S DAD (CONT'D)
These woods. They’ve got rules.
And sometimes, the mountain sends
things to test you.
Her gaze shifts back to the dead lion --
Its jaw hangs slack, but its eyes still seem to watch her.
END FLASHBACK
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
Into the Unknown
EXT. FOREST TRAIL - DAY (BACK TO PRESENT)
Thick clouds gather over the mountains -- jagged peaks of
shark teeth.
Clare and Jack move in silence -- breath smoking in the cold
air.
Jack moves methodically through the thick underbrush.
The trees grow denser, their branches heavy.
CLARE
You sure you know where you’re
going?
JACK
I was a tracker in the Army for
fifteen years. I’m sure.
CLARE
Bet that comes in handy.
JACK
Yeah, unless what you’re tracking
ends up tracking you.
Jack’s gaze is fixed ahead --
The mountains loom ominously.
Clare slows down -- eyes narrowing.
Up ahead --
The trees open up into a meadow.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
Contamination Unveiled
EXT. MEADOW - DAY
Trees thin. Trunks arch like cathedral pillars.
Clare and Jack push through the last row of pines -- stop.
A wide, open meadow unfurls before them --
Once pristine -- now defiled.
Something black stains the ground, spreading outward in veins
and spirals like oil slicks.
The silence is profound.
Clare steps forward first, boots crunching.
Then she sees them --
Dozens of carcasses --
Elk, moose, bear, and wolf -- scattered across the field.
Antlers jut upward like thorns from the ground.
Bodies twist -- inverted -- locked in poses of agony.
Jack moves beside Clare, swallowing hard.
They walk deeper into the clearing.
The air grows heavier -- thick, sweet, metallic.
Clare kneels beside an elk --
Its eyes -- gone -- just sockets filled with a black resin
glistening like tar.
She leans in. The tissue gleams -- wrong.
Jack crouches over another corpse --
The animal’s hide shimmers -- stretched thin, translucent --
like waxed paper.
Underneath, something moves --
A ripple, faint but unmistakable.
JACK
What in the fuck?...
He presses the butt of his knife against the hide --
It yields. Soft. Sponge-like.
A black fluid seeps from the puncture -- sizzling faintly as
it hits the ground.
CLARE
Don’t touch it.
Jack stumbles back.
The smell hits -- sweet and chemical, like burnt sugar mixed
with bleach.
Clare turns, her face lit with horror and awe.
Her gaze catches something further ahead --
A mound of black fur. Huge.
A BLACK BEAR.
She approaches slowly, her shadow stretching across its
massive body.
The torso -- ruptured outward -- bones bending back like a
ribcage forced open from within.
She circles it.
Freezes. Looks down --
The bear has TWO HEADS.
Both half-formed, fused at the neck, one mouth frozen mid-
snarl.
She stares down in mute disbelief.
A crow lands on the bear’s back -- pecking at the exposed
flesh.
Instantly, the bird convulses --
Its wings thrash --
Feathers burst loose in a storm of blood and guts.
Clare’s breath catches.
Then --
A faint shimmer.
From the wound, a cluster of translucent filaments rises --
Slow, deliberate, almost graceful.
They twist upward in spirals -- like smoke made of glass
threads and pollen.
SPORES.
Tiny, golden. Drifting weightless into the cold air.
Jack steps back, instinctively holding his breath.
The particles wobble and scatter, catching sunlight through
the trees.
Clare’s eyes lock on them, horror dawning.
CLARE (CONT'D)
It's airborne.
One of the spores lands on her glove -- etching a dark spot
into the fabric.
Behind her, the wind carries the rest of the spores into the
trees.
Then --
A distant ROAR.
A wave moves through the forest, synced perfectly with the
sound.
Jack grips his rifle tighter.
Genres:
["Horror","Mystery","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
17 -
Echoes of Mutation
EXT. MOUNTAIN LAKE - DAY
Jack and Clare emerge from the trees.
A lake sprawls out before them --
The surface shimmers with a rainbow slick of oil, swirling in
unnatural hues of blue, green, and black.
A chemical sheen ripples with the slightest breeze.
Dozens of dead fish float belly-up. Bloated. Grotesque.
Some have extra fins, others double jaws -- some just gaping
holes where eyes should be.
Jack kneels at the edge -- prods a swollen fish corpse with a
stick.
The flesh collapses instantly, dissolving into a gray soupy
mush.
Clare crouches beside him, pulling a latex glove from her
pocket.
She picks up a tiny, malformed fish -- it has two heads fused
at the neck.
SNAP.
A loud crack echoes through the underbrush --
They whirl around, rifles raised --
Only silence. Stillness.
Suddenly --
A DEER steps from the tree line --
It’s gaunt, skin patchy -- fur falling away in strips.
Three grotesque sets of antlers sprout at odd angles --
One curves backward, one juts sideways -- another spirals
into a knotted crown of bone.
Its eyes glow faintly yellow in the dim light.
Its lips peel back slightly, revealing --
Sharp, malformed teeth.
It stares at them. Not afraid. Not curious. Just... wrong.
It takes one slow, deliberate step forward.
Jack steadies his rifle.
The deer twitches violently -- head jerking.
Bones pop under the strain of some invisible force.
Then --
It emits a scream --
Not a bleat, not an animal sound, but a horrific, guttural
human-like WAIL.
The noise ricochets through the forest.
Clare flinches, her hand flying to her ear.
Jack stumbles back, rifle raised, shaken.
The deer lurches, convulses -- then bolts into the trees.
Its twisted antlers crash through branches as it disappears,
leaving silence in its wake.
The clearing goes deathly quiet again.
Jack exhales -- breath shaking.
JACK
That's not a sound nature invented.
Clare looks back at the lake. Mind racing.
CLARE
The infection isn't killing them.
It's rewiring them.
Her words hang heavy in the air.
Jack stares at the treeline where the deer vanished.
The clouds darken overhead.
The winter storm presses closer.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
18 -
The Ominous Basement
INT. LOCKWOOD HOUSE – BASEMENT - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
Rain pelts the tin roof. Thunder trembles the wooden
floorboards.
A bare lightbulb flickers overhead as YOUNG CLARE (11) creeps
down the stairs, barefoot, clutching a worn blanket around
her small shoulders.
At the bottom sits a heavy iron door -- cracked.
A faint GLOW pulses from inside.
Clare pushes the door with trembling fingers.
It BURSTS wider -- revealing her father, hunched over a
cluttered workbench.
Vials. Maps. Old wildlife specimens.
And in the center, a metal lockbox with a stenciled symbol:
BIOHAZARD – U.S. ARMY PROPERTY.
Ray’s shoulders tense.
He turns slowly.
His face: exhausted, pale, lips tremoring.
CLARE’S FATHER
Clare?
(choked)
It’s late. You shouldn’t be down
here.
Clare steps in -- small, brave.
YOUNG CLARE
I heard you talking on your radio.
Ray swallows hard, eyes drifting to the lockbox.
CLARE’S FATHER
Just... work. Nothing for you to
worry about.
Clare inches closer.
YOUNG CLARE
Are you sick?
He freezes.
He kneels, meets her eye level.
CLARE’S FATHER
Sometimes we think we’re curing the
world, when really we’re just
changing it.
Clare doesn’t understand — but she hears the fear under his
words.
Ray gently cups her cheek.
Behind him, the lockbox emits a faint thrum, like a
heartbeat.
The sound pulls Clare’s gaze.
Ray follows her eyes — snaps the box shut with trembling
hands.
He forces a weak smile.
CLARE’S FATHER (CONT'D)
Come on.
Let’s get you back to bed.
He stands -- then suddenly doubles over in a silent cough,
catching himself against the table.
Clare rushes to him.
YOUNG CLARE
Dad!
Ray steadies himself, eyes glassy.
CLARE’S FATHER
I’m fine. Just need sleep.
(beat)
And you --
(touches her hair)
-- you stay out of here.
Clare nods, frightened.
Clare’s father shuts the iron door behind them.
IN THE BASEMENT:
The lockbox pulses once more -- glowing golden, perfectly in
sync with a distant, inhuman heartbeat.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
19 -
The Buried Door
EXT. MOUNTAIN SLOPE - DAY
Storm clouds churn overhead, shadows racing across the
ridgeline.
Jack and Clare push through tangled underbrush into a
clearing at the base of a craggy slope.
Half-buried in the earth --
A rusted steel door juts from the hillside, buckled, one
corner bent inward.
The frame is cracked, bent with age, but the faded stencil
lettering is still visible --
“U.S. ARMY – ACCESS RESTRICTED”
Jack stops cold.
Clare brushes away vines with her glove, exposing a yellowed
“BIOHAZARD” sign.
Her breath catches. She fumbles for her inhaler -- takes a
deep pull.
Clare steps closer.
She glances back at the woods -- the trees still. Listening.
CLARE
This is where they buried it.
Clare looks at the sign again.
CLARE (CONT'D)
Maybe this is where we end it.
She pulls a flashlight from her pack -- clicks it on.
She pushes the door wider with her shoulder.
The metal groans.
The door CREAKS open --
Darkness.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
20 -
Into the Abyss: The Hazardous Corridor
INT. ARSENAL - CORRIDOR - DAY
Flashlights cut through the darkness as Jack and Clare step
into the corridor.
Concrete walls sweat with condensation. Rust streaks like
blood down the seams.
Rotted warning placards peel off the walls --
"NO ENTRY – HAZARDOUS MATERIALS."
Clare’s light finds an overturned drum in the corner, its lid
corroded through.
A puddle of oily black liquid stains the floor -- burning
faintly with a rainbow sheen.
The stench of rot and chemicals lingers in the air.
Clare covers her mouth with her sleeve.
Clare shines her beam at the end of the corridor.
The sign above a cracked glass door reads "BIOSAFETY LAB -
LEVEL 4 - ACCESS RESTRICTED."
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
21 -
Echoes of Project Apex
INT. BIOSAFETY LAB - DAY
The door swings open to reveal --
A decayed laboratory, half-swallowed by vines and rust.
Jars clouded with sediment line the shelves.
A massive observation window, cracked but intact, overlooks a
containment cell filled with black moss.
CLARE
This used to be a BSL-Four research
lab. The highest level of
biocontainment.
Clare wipes condensation from an old command console.
Jack sweeps his flashlight across a collapsed viewing
station.
JACK
Old school hardware. Pre-digital.
Jack spots a faded red light on the console -- a sign of
power.
JACK (CONT'D)
Still humming.
CLARE
These consoles are tied to the
mainframe. Maybe there's something
left.
She flips a cracked toggle.
BUZZ.
A nearby monitor flickers. Static.
Then --
BEEP.
ON THE MONITOR --
"PROJECT APEX – CLASSIFIED - 1980"
Jack and Clare exchange a glance.
She hits play --
BEGIN ARCHIVAL FOOTAGE - BLACK AND WHITE
Crude and chilling.
– Black-suited HAZMAT SOLDIERS haul cages of animals.
– Inside one -- A colossal MOUNTAIN LION.
– TITLE CARD: "DR. RAY LOCKWOOD – Lead Biochemist"
Clare stares -- frozen.
CLARE (CONT'D)
(barely a whisper)
Dad...
END ARCHIVAL FOOTAGE
BEGIN CAMCORDER FOOTAGE
Handheld, shaky.
DR. MALCOLM GREAVES (50s) stares into the lens, pale and
sweating.
Behind him --
Sirens flash inside a sealed steel corridor.
DR. GREAVES (V.O.)
Log fifty-one. Breach event.
The footage glitches.
DR. GREAVES
(distorted, robotic)
It thinks in waves --
The footage glitches again.
Greaves pans the camera, revealing --
A cracked containment chamber.
Inside --
A shifting, sinewed mass of organs, bone, and shadow --
pulsing with a golden glow.
Static flares. More flashes.
The monitor screen cuts to BLACK.
END CAMCORDER FOOTAGE
BACK TO LAB
Silence.
Clare steps back from the console, shaken.
Jack lowers his rifle, stunned.
JACK
You never mentioned your father
wore the uniform.
CLARE
He was a scientist, not a soldier.
Jack moves to a dusty filing cabinet. Opens it. Inside --
Old lab logbooks.
Jack pulls a water-warped logbook from the file -- mold
creeping along its spine.
He cracks it open. The paper groans.
JACK
(reads)
“Neural amplification exceeds
baseline projections. Host
cognition elevated. "
(beat)
Jesus...
He flips a page. Eyes scanning fast.
JACK (CONT'D)
“Human DNA introduced to stabilize
the viral matrix... Host species
rejected full infection.”
CLARE
So we're immune. It's not zoonotic.
Jack turns another page --
Freezes.
Eyes locked.
His breath hitches -- subtle, but sharp.
Suddenly --
Whispers echo from the hallway.
Jack drops the file.
Metal scrapes.
They turn -- rifles raised.
Jack kills the monitor --
Darkness rushes in.
Thick. Heavy. Alive.
Something brushes past the doorframe -- wet, dragging.
A silhouette lingers just outside the glass window.
It shifts unnaturally -- like a shadow underwater.
Jack shoulders his backpack -- backs away from the door.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
22 -
Chase Through the Shadows
INT. CORRIDOR - DAY
Clare and Jack sprint down the corridor.
Their footsteps echo into the dark.
Above them --
A BULKY, OUTDATED SECURITY CAMERA hangs crookedly from a
rusted bracket.
Its lens -- cracked but functional -- slowly swivels.
A small red LED blinks steadily -- mechanical, indifferent.
The light pulses like a heartbeat. Watching.
From the darkness behind them --
TWO YELLOW EYES ignite. Unblinking.
Then --
The massive creature charges from behind them -- its enormous
limbs echoing like a drumbeat.
Massive claws rake across concrete walls --
Sparks fly.
Another set of eyes flickers behind the first.
Then another.
The corridor shakes with the force of pursuit.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
23 -
Fleeing the Darkness
EXT. ARSENAL - ENTRANCE - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)
Clare and Jack burst out of the steel door, stumbling into
the open air.
They scramble across the slope, panting, weapons raised.
Behind them --
The dark mouth of the arsenal looms.
Then --
MULTIPLE SETS OF YELLOW EYES IGNITE IN THE DARKNESS.
Not two. Not four. Dozens.
Yellow eyes glow -- shift -- multiplying in the shadows like
a blooming fungus.
A chorus of growls rises -- inhuman -- hungry.
Jack's shoulders tense. Rifle steady.
Then --
They turn, racing down the mountain trail.
The storm breaks overhead --
Snowflakes rain down sideways, carried by the wind.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
24 -
Secrets in the Storm
INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Snow slams against the windows in thick sheets.
Sheriff Bauer sits behind his desk, rolling a toothpick
between his teeth, eyes heavy-lidded but sharp.
Clare and Jack stand across from him -- posture rigid, the
air between them thick with tension.
CLARE
There's a buried arsenal up there,
Sheriff. What was it used for?
Sheriff Bauer doesn’t answer right away.
He just stares, long and flat, as if he’s weighing how much
truth she deserves.
He exhales through his nose.
SHERIFF BAUER
Some things don't stay buried. They
wait.
Sheriff Bauer tilts back in his chair. The old wood creaks.
His hand drifts across his desk to an old silver flask.
He unscrews it, takes a slow drink, never breaking eye
contact.
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
Back in the Cold War, they built
something up there. Army boys
rolled in -- trucks, fences,
floodlights. Said it was "storage
and testing."
(beat)
Then one winter -- they vanished.
No trucks. No men. Just... gone.
Clare stills.
CLARE
Vanished?
Bauer nods -- slow, deliberate.
A flicker of something old in his eyes.
SHERIFF BAUER
Whole damn operation wiped clean
overnight.
JACK
What were they testing?
Bauer shifts his toothpick -- jaw tight.
SHERIFF BAUER
Nobody ever said. But people
talked. Said there was a breach.
Something got out. Then the Army
sealed the place and hauled what
was left to NORAD -- thirty miles
east of here.
Clare frowns.
CLARE
And nobody’s been up there since?
Bauer lets the toothpick fall --
It lands with a soft tick against the table.
SHERIFF BAUER
Depends what you mean by "nobody."
Every few months... black trucks
come through. No plates. Always at
night.
Clare and Jack exchange a look, unsettled.
The wind screams outside --
Windows tremble like they might shatter.
The lights flicker...
Then DIE.
The fire becomes the only light, throwing wild shadows across
their faces.
JACK
(under breath)
And there goes the power.
The office is swallowed in silence, except for the wind
tearing at the building.
Clare clicks on her radio -- static.
She pulls out her cell phone -- no service.
Jack checks his phone. Nothing. They turn toward Sheriff
Bauer.
SHERIFF BAUER
Storm’s taken the lines. We're on
our own now.
A powerful gust shudders the entire building.
Then --
A sound rises under the storm. Low. Guttural. A growl. Not
close, not far. Moving.
Jack grips his rifle tighter, scans the window...
The growl echoes again, closer now.
A chorus of branches snap in the dark.
Clare takes a step toward the window -- stops short when she
sees Sheriff Bauer’s face -- not surprised.
He’s pale, jaw set, eyes locked on the storm outside -- like
he’s been waiting for this night for a long time.
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
Folks around here talk about the
spirits in the mountains, warning
us to stay out. But I think maybe
the spirits were never the
problem... Maybe it was us all
along.
CLARE
Superstition may comfort you,
Sheriff, but it doesn't make it
science.
SHERIFF BAUER
Keep your science. The mountains...
they've got a long memory. And
sometimes they send things back
that we're not ready for.
Sheriff Bauer grabs his twelve-gauge from behind the desk,
racking it with a metallic snap.
SHERIFF BAUER (CONT'D)
The diner’s got backup generators.
We can hole up there till mornin.
Jack exhales, chambers his rifle.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
25 -
Night of Terror
EXT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE - NIGHT
The storm rages, a howling whiteout devouring the street.
Snow blasts sideways in violent sheets.
Clare, Jack, and Sheriff Bauer burst from the office, rifles
clutched tight.
Their boots sink into drifts, breath fogging instantly in the
frozen air.
JACK
Don’t lose sight of me!
They push forward, bent against the gale.
The diner’s neon sign glows faintly through the storm --
A trembling red beacon half-swallowed by snow.
From above --
A low, guttural GROWL cuts through the wind. Almost human.
Clare freezes -- whips her rifle around.
Snow whirls so thick it blinds her -- nothing but white.
Then --
A MASSIVE SHADOW LAUNCHES FROM THE ROOFTOP
A shadowy beast pounces on Sheriff Bauer in a flash --
sending him through the air.
The beast’s razor claws tear into his throat --
His body collapses to the snowy ground --
The twelve-gauge spins -- vanishing into the blizzard.
The beast pins him --
Its claws elongate into barbed hooks -- then drive through
his chest --
The snow beneath him flowers red in an instant.
Clare and Jack whip up their rifles.
BANG! BANG!
Muzzle flashes strobe the storm.
Both rounds hit the beast -- blood mist bursts into the snow.
But the beast barely flinches.
Its head tilts unnaturally, neck bones popping --
It fixates on Clare -- staring.
Sheriff Bauer thrashes beneath it, blood pouring from his
wounds.
SHERIFF BAUER
(choking)
Help -- help me.
The beast ROARS, the sound splitting the night like a
thunderclap.
Its claws rake downward --
Splitting Sheriff Bauer’s coat, flesh, and ribs in one
effortless motion --
Blood sprays across the snow in arcs, steaming in the cold.
His scream curdles into a bubbling gurgle.
The beast lowers its head -- bites into his skull with a wet,
horrifying CRUNCH.
A toothpick falls into the snow, stained red.
Then --
Stillness.
Clare’s hands shake on the rifle.
Her breath catches in her throat, eyes wide with shock.
Jack grabs her arm, yanks it hard.
JACK
He’s gone! He’s gone -- let's move!
The beast lifts its gore-slicked muzzle, releasing a low,
resonant growl.
From the swirling white all around them, other growls answer.
Shadows shift in the blizzard.
Yellow eyes ignite in the dark.
Clare and Jack sprint toward the diner’s flickering neon glow
-- their figures swallowed by the storm.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
26 -
Night of the Beast
INT. DINER - NIGHT
The door slams open -- wind howls in, carrying flurries of
snow.
Clare and Jack stumble inside, soaked, pale, streaked with
blood.
The door whips behind them -- they throw their weight into it
-- forcing it closed.
Sandy freezes mid-pour behind the counter, where Walter sits.
BILL (60s), broad, scarred, whiskey in hand, looks up from
his booth in the corner.
SANDY
You two look like you saw the devil
and shook his hand.
CLARE
Lock all the doors. Now.
The words hang in the air like smoke.
Bill chuckles darkly, shaking his head.
BILL
Storm spooked you that bad? Hell,
girl, it’s just weather.
Jack slams a bloodied hand on the counter with a sick SPLAT.
Cups rattle. The room stills.
JACK
Sheriff Bauer’s dead.
A silence falls. Deep. Suffocating.
SANDY
How?
Clare hesitates, eyes darting to Jack.
CLARE
Mountain lion. But not the kind you
know.
A shadow passes over the frosted window -- massive, fluid,
predatory.
BILL
I've hunted much worse than a rogue
mountain lion. They bleed and die
just like us, sweetheart.
The fluorescent lights flicker, buzz, then dim.
The diner hums with static and tension.
THUD.
The wall shudders.
Cups jump -- silverware clinks.
SANDY
(whisper)
What was that?
THUD.
Then --
A slow, dragging scrape -- metal against metal -- moves down
the outer wall. Deliberate. Patient.
Jack raises his rifle.
Sandy bolts the doors.
Bill mutters curses under his breath -- doesn't move from his
booth.
Walter drags a chair, wedges it beneath a window.
Through the frost --
Two yellow eyes glow faintly, moving along the window like
lanterns in fog.
Then --
The lights DIE.
BLACKOUT.
The hum of electricity disappears.
Silence hangs heavy.
Then --
CLICK.
A lighter flickers in Jack’s hand -- the small flame
illuminating his hard features.
JACK
Stay silent. Don't move.
The lighter's flame quivers as he steps forward.
Somewhere in the dark --
A fork drops.
The metallic sound is deafening.
The kitchen door cracks open just an inch.
A draft of cold air snakes through.
Snowflakes scatter across the floor.
Then --
SHHHK.
A scrape against the window glass.
For an instant -- three sets of glowing yellow eyes appear in
the window.
Then darkness swallows them.
Clare raises her rifle.
Jack edges toward the kitchen door, rifle raised, lighter
trembling.
Through the kitchen door’s crack --
A faint shimmer of fur and the sound of wet breathing.
Then --
The flame flickers out --
Darkness consumes the room.
Then --
The sound of something dragging metal. Slow. Heavy.
Jack sparks the lighter again, revealing --
A crouched shape, enormous -- hunched between steel racks.
Its maw glistens with teeth dripping black saliva.
It looks up --
The lighter dies again --
Darkness.
Silence.
Stillness.
Then --
The beast bursts from the kitchen in an explosion of motion.
Jack fires --
BOOM!
The blast blows apart the pie carousel --
Glass rains down.
The beast slams into a booth near Bill --
Claws carve through vinyl and wood like tissue.
Bill sits still. Silent.
Then unsheathes a large hunting knife.
He stands up --
Lunges for the beast -- plunging the knife into the
creature’s haunch.
The beast ROARS.
It swipes once -- catching Bill’s arm.
Bill’s body slams into the wall -- arm hanging by threads of
flesh.
SANDY
Oh my God!
Clare fires --
BOOM!
The round hits -- the creature’s shoulder bursts in black
spray.
Before the beast can react --
Jack grabs a fire extinguisher -- unleashes a blizzard of
white --
The lion reels, momentarily blinded, its tail whipping,
smashing cups and plates.
CLARE
Get behind the counter!
Sandy sobs into her sleeve as she and Walter crawl behind the
counter.
The room falls silent. Still.
Then --
THUMP.
From above.
Snow falls from the rafters.
THUMP. THUMP.
JACK
Shit. They’re on the roof.
The ceiling groans.
Beams SNAP.
Suddenly --
A LION crashes down in a blur of SNOW AND CLAWS.
Then --
Another LION crashes down from above.
WALTER
We can’t stay here! We need to go
to the old mine tunnel. It’s just
past the gas station.
Bill groans in the wrecked booth, half-conscious, blood
seeping from his shattered arm.
BILL
He’s right. The mine tunnel ends at
the radio tower, where you can call
for help.
Clare and Jack exchange a grim, wordless look.
CLARE
We’re gonna die if we stay here.
Jack reloads.
JACK
Time to go then.
The lions pace in the shadows.
BILL
Leave me --
-- In a flash, a lion pounces on him, engulfing him in one
brutal SNAP.
Bone cracks -- blood spraying the glass.
CLARE
Run!
Jack hurls a chair toward the beast. Firing as he moves --
BOOM! BOOM!
The blast blows out the front window --
Cold rushes in -- the neon “OPEN” sign flickers like a dying
heart.
They shove through it, Sandy and Walter first, Clare and Jack
behind.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
27 -
The Alpha's Roar
EXT. MAIN STREET - NIGHT
The group bursts from the broken window into the whiteout
storm.
Wind shrieks like a banshee, snow blinding.
Jack shoves Sandy and Walter ahead of him, rifle raised.
Clare freezes mid-step.
Cold sinks into her bones -- not from snow, but from
something darker.
She turns slowly -- back toward the diner...
Then we see it --
Through the blowing snow and flickering neon haze --
THE ALPHA.
Towering. Primeval. Wrong.
Vast as a transport truck. Waiting like a judgment.
Molten gold eyes burn through the blizzard.
Its head -- crowned with BUFFALO HORNS -- flashes red from
the dying neon sign.
Its fur writhes in the wind --
A shifting tapestry of shadow and sinew stitched from
nightmares.
A cauterized surgical incision runs vertically down its
chest, sealed with metal sutures -- half-rusted.
The beast lifts its head --
Time stops.
The air grows thick. Heavy.
Snow hangs mid-fall.
Then --
The Alpha ROARS.
Windows SHATTER.
The neon sign DETONATES, flaring like a dying star.
Glass rains down in fire-laced shards.
From the broken windows of the diner --
LIONS SPILL OUT.
EXT. GAS STATION - NIGHT
The group stumbles past the dark, snow-buried pumps.
Walter points with his lantern.
WALTER
Tunnel’s just down the hill!
The group pushes deeper into drifts.
From the rooftops --
SHADOWS lunge -- lions bounding across snow-laden beams like
specters.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
28 -
Into the Darkness
EXT. MINE - ENTRANCE - NIGHT
Snow tears sideways in jagged gusts.
They reach a cave-like mouth in the mountain -- looming like
a forgotten tomb.
A deep THUD echoes from inside. Faint. Distant.
Sandy whimpers.
Walter steps forward, holding the lantern, and disappears
into the darkness.
One by one, the others follow.
Clare is last.
She looks back toward the snowstorm --
Several faint, yellow eyes glimmer between the trees.
Watching.
Waiting.
Clare exhales, steady.
Then steps into the mine --
Darkness closes around her.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
29 -
Into the Depths
INT. MINE - ENTRANCE - NIGHT
The noise of the storm fades -- replaced by the rhythmic drip
of melting snow and the distant groan of ancient beams.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Clare leans against a wall, catching her breath.
Her body shakes, eyes unfocused -- half adrenaline, half
shock.
Jack kneels near the entrance, checking his rifle, hands
trembling.
The tunnel breathes --
Alive. Watching.
Mineral veins shimmer faintly along the walls -- streaks of
light woven into ancient stone.
Jack glances at Clare.
JACK
You always this calm when hell
breaks loose?
Clare gives a wry, flat smile, but it never reaches her eyes.
CLARE
Just too tired to panic.
Jack exhales.
The silence stretches -- oppressive.
He reaches up and touches his cross -- the chain worn, metal
dulled by years of sweat and fire.
JACK
"Be still, and know that I am God."
CLARE
Faith is for people who can’t stand
the silence.
JACK
Maybe the silence is how God
listens.
They lock eyes -- not romance, but recognition.
Behind them --
A loud CRACK echoes from deeper in the mine -- just a beam
settling... maybe.
The sound fades.
WALTER
This mine runs deep -- two miles or
more. Cuts all the way to the radio
tower on the south ridge.
(beat)
Our only way out.
JACK
What makes you so sure?
WALTER
I was a security guard for a mining
operation active thirty years ago.
I know these tunnels well.
Walter shifts uncomfortably.
Jack nods -- solemn.
Another drip lands on Clare’s cheek -- thick, black.
She wipes it off slowly, smearing it between her fingers --
It glistens --
Alive.
She turns to Jack.
CLARE
Let's get moving.
Jack shoulders his rifle.
Sandy nods, barely.
They gather their gear.
Somewhere deep below --
The earth groans.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
30 -
Echoes of Danger
INT. MINE TUNNEL - NIGHT
Walter lifts a lantern, illuminating the tunnel ahead --
Old mine carts, rusted rails, and wooden beams half-
collapsed.
The air grows heavy, dense with dust and something metallic.
A faint hum rises from deeper inside -- a vibration through
the rock.
Clare presses her palm against the wall -- it’s warm.
Faint whispers seem to curl out of the stone itself -- voices
layered within the wind.
Clare shuts her eyes tight.
When she opens them -- Jack is watching her.
JACK
You okay?
CLARE
Thought I heard something.
JACK
Wind likes to pretend.
A distant growl -- low, guttural -- rolls through the mine
tunnel.
CLARE
That wasn't wind.
They push deeper.
Clare's beam falls on a half-buried wooden crate, swollen
with rot and webbing.
The faded lettering is barely visible --
“DANGER - EXPLOSIVES.”
Jack crouches beside her, brushing away grime.
Clare pries the lid open with a rusted crowbar -- the wood
splinters --
Inside --
Sticks of dynamite, wax casings bloated with age.
SANDY
You sure that stuff won't take us
with it?
CLARE
Safe's not the goal. The boom is.
Jack sniffs one -- grimaces.
JACK
Sweating nitro -- she's volatile,
but alive.
Clare and Jack carefully place three dynamite sticks inside
each of their backpacks.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
31 -
The Heart of the Mountain
INT. MINE - CHAMBER - NIGHT
The mine tunnel widens into a massive chamber --
Walls streaked with black residue glimmer faintly gold under
the lantern light.
Clare stops dead --
Dozens of ELK CARCASSES sprawl across the floor --
Frozen mid-motion, as if they’d collapsed in agony at once.
Their eyes are milky white.
Their flesh is bloated -- streaked with strange ridges
beneath the hide.
Sandy clutches her chest.
Jack steps forward, his boots crunching bones buried in the
dirt.
He kneels beside one elk -- its ribcage caved outward -- bone
splintering out like spears.
The flesh around the wound -- black and webbed -- pulses
faintly beneath the skin.
Walter’s lantern flame elongates -- bending toward the center
of the chamber.
Clare follows the light --
Then she sees it --
A MOUND of fused corpses -- elk, deer, bears -- melded
together by hardened sinew and bone.
They twist into a pulsating mass -- the size of a small
house.
It breathes.
The group stares, paralyzed by awe and horror.
The MOUND's surface ripples, wet and glistening.
Antlers and limbs jut out at impossible angles.
Beneath the translucent tissue --
Shapes move -- something alive inside.
A POP echoes --
One of the bodies shifts.
A jaw falls open, releasing a hiss of fetid air.
Walter stumbles backward, clutching his chest.
Clare steps closer, her breath fogging the air.
Her eyes go distant -- scientific instinct warring with
primal terror.
CLARE
The heart of the mountain. A
hive... one mind, a thousand nodes.
Her flashlight trembles in her hand.
She leans closer.
Beneath the tissue, something moves --
A thick root-like tendril presses upward through flesh --
toward the surface.
It breaks through with a wet snap --
Black fluid spills out, reeking of metal and decay.
Clare staggers back.
The ground shakes.
The MOUND shudders -- SPLITS open --
Inside --
Hundreds of tangled sinewy cords pulse like veins, threading
through carcasses.
Glowing veins extend outward -- through the rock -- as if
feeding the entire mountain.
The chamber trembles.
An elk twitches -- head jerking, mouth opening in a soundless
cry.
Then another.
And another.
Their limbs spasm -- cracking bones, rising like marionettes.
The MOUND exhales -- a hot, wet breath.
Tiny spores drift into the air -- shimmering like golden
dust, floating toward Clare.
She inhales sharply --
Her pupils dilate -- the world tilts...
Sound distorts...
Every drip. Every breath -- stretches into deep, distorted
echoes.
A heartbeat -- not hers -- throbs in her ears.
Through the haze --
Her father stands across the chamber, smiling faintly.
CLARE’S DAD (V.O.)
The tree remembers what the axe
forgets.
She blinks --
He’s gone.
Jack’s shouts, distant -- muffled --
He pulls Clare back.
JACK
Don’t breathe that in!
Clare coughs, choking -- black residue on her lips.
Her flashlight beam catches movement --
Tendrils retract, sliding back into the earth like serpents.
The MOUND shudders, as if retreating.
Jack drags Clare away.
The chamber shakes.
The ceiling groans -- cracks, raining dust and ice.
The roar of shifting rock and snapping timber chases them
like thunder.
Clare stumbles, dizzy -- her vision swimming in a faint
golden haze.
Jack hauls her forward, shouting over the noise.
JACK (CONT'D)
Don’t stop moving!
The MOUND’s heart pulses, faster and faster.
The group runs full tilt -- coughing, stumbling, lights
slicing through smoke and dust.
From somewhere in the mine tunnel --
A ROAR -- a sound deeper than thunder, shakes the earth.
Genres:
["Horror","Sci-Fi","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
32 -
Fork in the Darkness
INT. MINE TUNNEL – NIGHT
The group rounds a bend and stops.
Before them, the tunnel forks:
To the left, a steep drop into pure black — a throat of
darkness swallowing the lantern light.
To the right, the passage rises gently, the air colder,
tighter, as if the tunnel itself is holding its breath.
Moisture drips in rhythmic plinks.
Something shifts deep in the stone — a distant, slow thrum.
Jack scans both paths.
JACK
Which way?
He turns to ask Walter --
But Walter isn’t there.
Only Clare and Sandy stand behind him, their faces pale in
the flickering light.
JACK (CONT'D)
Where’s Walter?
Clare spins, eyes searching the darkness.
CLARE
He was just here.
Sandy hugs herself, glancing up the ceiling, the walls —
anywhere but into the tunnel mouths.
SANDY
People come and go…
(swallows hard)
…but the mountain stays.
Jack frowns at her.
JACK
That supposed to mean something?
Sandy doesn’t answer. A pebble skitters down the left tunnel
as if kicked by an unseen foot.
Clare freezes.
Her pupils dilate sharply -- a sudden, unnatural widening.
The glow in the bioluminescent fungus nearby flickers in time
with her heartbeat.
Jack notices.
JACK (CONT'D)
Clare?
(softly)
You okay?
Clare doesn’t look at him.
Her head tilts — listening.
We HEAR what she hears:
A faint, deep PULSE behind the walls.
Like something alive breathing through the rock.
Clare’s vision alters — her eyes glass over with a fleeting
golden sheen.
The stone around them becomes translucent in her perception --
a shimmering X-ray of roots, bone-like support beams, and
something moving far below the left tunnel.
Something vast.
Jack steps closer, uneasy.
JACK (CONT'D)
(low)
Clare?
She blinks hard — the vision wavers, then fades.
She straightens abruptly, decision made.
CLARE
Right.
(beat)
We go right.
Jack looks uncertain.
JACK
You sure?
Clare turns to him — but her expression is slightly off, her
focus drifting beyond him and into the dark.
CLARE
(too quickly)
Yeah.
(beat, softer)
Sure.
The mine groans — a slow, resonant vibration that travels
under their boots.
Sandy shivers.
Jack nods reluctantly and steps into the right tunnel,
lantern raised.
Clare follows a beat later.
Before she goes, she glances once more down the left tunnel —
into the abyss Walter disappeared into.
The darkness stirs, like something shifting just out of
sight.
Clare’s breath catches.
Her veins pulse faintly gold.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
33 -
The Mountain's Grasp
INT. MINE TUNNEL - NIGHT
The tunnel narrows, forcing Jack, Clare, and Sandy to climb
on hands and knees through a steep incline.
The stone tightens like a gullet, slick with condensation.
Walls close in with every foot forward.
Above them --
Drips of black water fall in intervals -- rhythmic and wrong.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Each one echoes like a countdown.
Clare's hand drifts to the wall beside her.
Beneath her fingertips, the rock quivers --
A subtle but unmistakable pulse.
A second heartbeat, layered beneath her own.
Thicker. Deeper.
She gasps -- her head jerks back as if struck.
Her vision flickers gold --
The darkness around her warps at the edges like melting
celluloid.
JACK
Clare -- hey. Hey! Look at me!
He grips her shoulder, trying to anchor her.
But she doesn’t look at him -- she looks at the walls.
CLARE
It’s breathing.
(beat)
The whole mountain.
A low groan rises from deep below --
Something alive.
The tunnel expands -- walls pushing outward, as if inhaling.
Then --
A violent exhale.
Suddenly --
CRACK!
A JAGGED BONE-LIKE SPEAR bursts through the tunnel wall with
sickening force, skewering Sandy through her lower abdomen.
Her scream rips the air apart.
She’s lifted a foot off the ground, impaled mid-stride.
Her eyes widen -- blood pouring from her mouth.
JACK
Sandy!
He spins, raises his rifle --
BOOM! BOOM!
Muzzle flashes light up the tunnel in violent bursts of
orange.
Bullet impacts spark against stone, but the bone doesn’t
retreat.
Sandy convulses -- pinned like meat.
Clare scrambles to her, grabbing her hand.
CLARE
No -- no, no, no -- stay with me.
Sandy’s blood pours fast. Too fast.
She grips Clare’s sleeve with white-knuckled desperation.
Sandy’s body jerks violently --
The bone twitches inside her, twisting.
Her face distorts -- eyes go black.
SANDY
(distorted)
We remember...
Clare recoils.
The tunnel walls ripple, stone softening into muscle.
The spear twitches -- then begins to withdraw, pulling Sandy
in.
CLARE
No -- No!
She grabs Sandy’s arm, but the mountain is stronger.
Sandy screams again -- not fully human now.
Her body gets dragged -- inch by inch -- into the wall.
Her hands claw at the air -- nails scraping bloody crescents
into the stone.
JACK
Clare -- let her go!
Clare holds on -- eyes wild, desperate.
SANDY
(in Clare's Dad's voice)
In here. The world stops...
With a final, grotesque jerk -- Sandy's gone. Swallowed.
The wall seals shut with a wet, organic sigh.
Veins pulse once -- then vanish.
From the sealed stone --
Sandy’s scarf flutters down like falling ash. Blood-soaked.
Torn. Still warm.
It lands at Clare’s boot.
She stares at it.
Frozen.
Silent.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
34 -
Descent into Darkness
INT. COVE - MINE SHAFT - NIGHT
Dust floats in the air like ash.
Jack and Clare wedge themselves into a narrow stone recess --
A dead-end crevice, half-collapsed and barely wide enough to
breathe.
The walls sweat. Water drips through the ceiling; the sound
is rhythmic, like an organic clock.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Clare sits hunched, her back to the wall, shivering.
Her arms hug her chest. Her breath stutters, catching in her
throat.
Jack kneels beside her, reloading his rifle with hands that
aren’t steady anymore.
CLARE
How deep do you think we are?
JACK
Too deep to matter.
(beat)
It’s just pressure now. Earth
pressing in like it wants you back.
Clare gives a shaky laugh, more a breath than a sound.
CLARE
You make everything sound biblical.
JACK
Everything down here is.
A long silence. The kind that listens back.
CLARE
I used to think silence meant
safety. Now it just sounds...
hungry.
Jack turns his eyes toward her -- really looking now.
JACK
You ever prayed, Clare?
CLARE
Not since I was a kid. I used to
think faith’s what people cling to
when science stops making sense.
(beat)
Now... I'm not so sure which one's
lying to me.
JACK
Maybe faith’s not about truth.
Maybe it’s the thing that lets you
keep walking when both of them go
quiet.
Clare looks at him -- the flickering lantern paints his face
in amber and shadow.
CLARE
Jack... I’m infected.
JACK
How do you know?
CLARE
The vision. The pulse. We thought
only animals could catch it...
(beat)
But I feel it inside. Something...
Jack closes his eyes -- doesn’t flinch -- doesn’t doubt.
JACK
I saw your father’s name in the lab
log.
(beat)
He didn’t just engineer the signal.
He used his own DNA as the binding
agent.
Clare lets it sink in.
CLARE
My blood.
JACK
He built a firewall -- a key.
Thought only he could open the
door... but he made another version
of himself without realizing.
Her jaw tightens. Eyes glassy.
Silence weighs heavy.
CLARE
So I’m the doorway.
JACK
And maybe you’re the only person
who can shut it.
The words hang.
The mountain groans softly -- distant, yet intimate.
Clare grips the stone behind her --
The wall pulses -- subtly -- as if it’s breathing beneath her
skin.
CLARE
They didn’t just poison this place.
They woke it up.
JACK
How do we stop it?
CLARE
We sever the connection. Use the
dynamite to create an avalanche --
cut off its oxygen, bury it deep
enough to break the signal.
Jack nods -- removes his cross necklace.
He holds it for a moment, then presses it into Clare's palm.
JACK
In case you forget which parts of
you are still human.
Their fingers linger -- close enough to feel each other’s
heat in the cold.
Then --
A distant GROWL echoes from the tunnel --
Low. Guttural. Like something exhaling wet breath through
hollow lungs.
They freeze.
Jack tightens his grip on the rifle -- knuckles pale.
A second growl. Closer. Throaty.
Something massive shifts in the dark beyond their cove.
Two yellow eyes ignite in the dark --
They rush from the cove -- swallowed by blackness, footsteps
pounding like a heartbeat.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
35 -
Descent into Darkness
INT. ESCAPE HATCH - NIGHT
The tunnel trembles with the distant roar of lions, echoing
like thunder through bone.
Jack and Clare reach the base of a rusted ladder.
It climbs upward -- a relic bolted into the stone.
JACK
Climb. Go!
Clare hesitates -- then climbs.
Her slick, trembling hands grip each rung.
Jack follows.
Every step creaks.
The air tastes of rust and blood.
The roars grow closer.
Something moves below --
Fast. Heavy. Alive.
A low growl rolls up the tunnel, vibrating through the metal
ladder.
Clare looks down --
Yellow eyes bloom in the dark. Dozens. Watching. Advancing.
JACK (CONT'D)
Don’t look down. Just go!
Clare climbs harder, boots scraping steel.
Jack’s flashlight swings wildly -- the beam slicing over
shapes in the dark --
Sinew. Claws. Teeth flashing wet.
Then --
A lion leaps --
It hits Jack mid-ladder -- raking its claws deep across the
back of his legs.
Blood spatters the rungs.
JACK (CONT'D)
Faster, Clare!
Clare reaches the hatch, tries to pry it open --
It won't budge.
It's frozen -- sealed by ice.
CLARE
Come on!
Clare pounds the hatch with every muscle in her body.
Jack looks down --
The lion below him crouches again -- shoulders twitching,
ready to leap.
Another lion prowls behind it --
Tail flicking, jaws gnashing in anticipation.
He releases one hand and pulls a knife from his belt.
The first lion lunges --
Jack drives the knife into its skull as it collides with him -
-
The impact slams him against the ladder.
Bone cracks.
The lion’s momentum tears the blade free, tearing Jack with
it.
He loses his grip --
SLAMS backward, spine-first --
Falling into the nest below --
CLARE (CONT'D)
Jack!
The tunnel erupts in a cyclone of snarls --
A dozen YELLOW EYES blink open at once.
The swarm collapses in on him, a blur of fur and claws.
Clare can only watch -- helpless -- through a veil of dust
and blood spray.
Claws rake across Jack’s ribs.
Teeth sink into tendons.
His boots kick, slipping in crimson.
He fights, snarling back at them like one of their own --
then rips a stick of dynamite from his backpack.
Fumbling. Bleeding. Teeth at his throat.
He pulls a lighter from his pocket -- lights the fuse --
HISS.
JACK
"And the earth opened its mouth and
swallowed them."
His arm flails upward, the dynamite in one hand, the other
bloodied, trembling.
JACK (CONT'D)
(rasping)
Bury it, Clare.
SNAP.
His arm breaks sideways --
Sucked down into the maelstrom of flesh.
BOOM!
The blast hits like a freight train --
The tunnel walls shudder -- the hatch quakes.
A roar of flame and ruptured meat swells beneath her.
Clare slams her shoulder against the hatch harder -- once --
twice --
CRACK!
The hatch splits open -- a shaft of moonlight cuts through
the dark.
Sharp. Silver. Cold.
She gasps, crawls upward.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
36 -
Into the Blizzard of Grief
EXT. MOUNTAIN WILDERNESS - NIGHT
A whiteout blizzard rages -- snow tears sideways like knives.
Clare slams the hatch closed behind her --
She collapses into the snow -- gasping. Grieving.
Her breath clouds the air, each exhale laced with a faint,
unnatural golden shimmer.
Beneath her, the mountain shudders --
Alive.
A low, rhythmic thrum pulses up through the ice and stone,
like a sleeping beast shifting in its sleep.
CLARE
Jack...
She leans forward, pressing her forehead into the snow,
muffling a ragged sob.
She turns her head, still half-buried in snow, and stares
back at the sealed hatch.
Her hands tremble as she holds them out in front of her.
Tiny black veins pulse beneath the surface, threading like
roots. Foreign. Wrong.
She watches in silence.
She grips Jack’s cross necklace, now around her neck --
fingers curled around it like a lifeline.
She rises slowly. Not steady. Not whole. But upright.
Then she turns, limping into the snowstorm, the night
swallowing her silhouette.
Her breath trails behind in golden clouds.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
37 -
Plunge into Darkness
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
Clare emerges into an unnaturally flat expanse -- a frozen
lake buried beneath drifts.
Her flashlight beam cuts through flurries, its weak cone
swallowed by the storm.
She coughs violently, doubling over -- one hand pressed to
her chest.
Her breathing wet now -- rattles with fluid.
Then she sees it --
Faint pulses of yellow light beneath her skin.
Veins glow faintly along her wrist.
Clare stares at her hands, horrified.
The wind gusts violently.
She trudges forward, ice groaning under her boots.
CREAK.
She stops, breath caught in her throat.
The sound echoes again --
Long. Low -- like a massive lung exhaling beneath her.
Clare lowers her flashlight toward the ground.
The beam glides over the surface --
ICE WEBS CRACK BENEATH HER IN A LIGHTNING PATTERN
WHOOSH.
Clare plunges into darkness.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
38 -
Descent into Darkness
INT. UNDERWATER - CONTINUOUS
Shock hits Clare like a bolt of electricity --
Her lungs seize -- her screams lost in a burst of bubbles.
Freezing water wraps around her like a coffin.
Her flashlight tumbles away, its beam spinning, illuminating -
-
She sees pale human faces frozen in ice, mouths open in
eternal screams.
She kicks upward, muscles seizing, fingertips scraping at the
under-ice surface.
Her mind fractures between panic and fever.
Her thoughts distort, echoing in her skull like whispers.
She punches the ice, desperate.
Her lungs convulse. Her body spasms.
She claws upward --
Hits harder --
Then --
The ice CRACKS open.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
39 -
Emergence from the Ice
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
A HAND BURSTS THROUGH THE ICE.
Clare drags herself out, gasping, retching water.
She collapses on the surface, trembling violently, coughing
up black fluid laced with flecks of gold.
Her breath fogs the air -- the vapor faintly shimmers.
For a moment, she lies motionless.
Then, slowly, she lifts her head.
The storm has quieted -- not ended, but muffled, as if the
world is holding its breath.
Up ahead --
THE RADIO TOWER.
Skeletal, half-encased in frost, cables whipping like snakes
in the wind.
Clare crawls toward it, her hands leaving bloody handprints
in the snow that glow faintly yellow before fading.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Survival"]
Ratings
Scene
40 -
The Transformation on the Ridge
EXT. MOUNTAIN RIDGE - NIGHT (DREAM SEQUENCE)
Clare opens her eyes.
She’s ten years old, bundled in a red winter coat, her small
hand clasped in her father’s.
They stand on a high, snow-covered ridge.
The world is breathtaking --
Frozen peaks glow under a violet aurora.
The air feels clean, sacred.
Her father -- younger, in his army parka -- looks down at
her, warm and alive, his breath fogging in the twilight.
CLARE'S DAD
We thought mutation was chaos, but
we were wrong, Clare.
He walks ahead, leading her up through the snow.
Each step she takes, the snow deepens.
Her small boots sink until she can barely move.
CLARE'S DAD (CONT'D)
It was an order beyond our
comprehension. It was... evolution.
She tugs at his hand -- but his grip feels different --
Harder. Clawed.
Clare looks down --
The hand she holds isn’t human --
It’s rough, veined, covered in patches of fur and cracked
hide.
She looks up --
Her father’s parka hood whips back, the fabric snapping in
the gale --
Then she sees it --
His face --
A ruin of man and beast -- half-human, half-lion -- the merge
imperfect, horrifying.
Golden eyes burn beneath the hood, molten and wild, pupils
quivering like candle flames in a draft.
His lips pull wide --
Teeth spill past the edges of his mouth --
Too many, too sharp, glistening like wet glass in moonlight.
Clare stumbles backward --
The ridge beneath her feet moves.
The snow ripples -- the mountain breathes, pulses.
Black veins spiderweb beneath the surface, glowing faintly
like embers.
The horizon bends.
Her father’s shape towers now, spine arched, limbs distorting
--
Then --
The mountain splits open.
A roar shakes the sky.
END DREAM SEQUENCE
Genres:
["Horror","Fantasy","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
41 -
Climbing Through Shadows
EXT. RADIO TOWER BASE - NIGHT (BACK TO PRESENT)
Clare jerks awake, gasping, clinging to the bottom rung of
the tower ladder.
Her breath steams in the freezing air.
The tower looms above, skeletal and endless.
She blinks, trying to shake the dream --
But her fingers tremble unnaturally, twitching with delayed
spasms.
Black veins pulse faintly beneath her skin.
She looks at her hand --
The faintest trace of dark fur clings to her palm before the
snow melts it away.
Clare pushes herself up, body shaking.
Her face hardens -- half fear, half resolve.
She climbs.
The mountain hums beneath her -- a deep, living vibration.
Snow drifts swirl around her like ghosts.
Her breath glows faint gold in the dark.
She climbs faster, the infection pulsing through her veins
like molten light.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
42 -
Echoes of the Past
INT. RADIO ROOM - NIGHT
The air is thin. Cold. Heavy with rust and mold.
Clare squeezes into the narrow space --
A single metal chair sits in front of a battered radio unit.
She brushes snow and grime from the control panel, revealing
faded stenciling --
“U.S. ARMY - EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM”
The radio -- a clunky relic from another era -- all knobs, no
screens.
A cracked frequency dial glows faintly orange.
She hesitates. Takes a breath. Flips the toggle.
The unit hums to life -- low, guttural -- like the mountain
itself is listening.
Clare leans forward into the mic.
CLARE
This is CPW Officer Clare Lockwood
requesting emergency evac from the
Black Ridge radio tower.
I repeat -- emergency evac.
A hiss of static fills the air.
Then --
A cold, mechanical voice crackles through, distorted by
distance.
MILITARY OPERATOR (V.O.)
Copy that, Officer Lockwood. Help
is on the way. Stay where you are.
The sound of her name through the static feels alien --
distant, wrong.
CLARE
Who is this? What -- what unit?
MILITARY OPERATOR (V.O.)
Hold your position. Do not attempt
to leave the area.
The radio clicks dead.
Clare’s trembling hand lowers the mic.
The light on the console flickers red -- then goes black.
Silence.
The static breathes -- in, out -- like lungs.
A voice bleeds through --
CLARE’S DAD (V.O.)
It’s alive, Clare. Everything up
here is.
The words echo inside her skull.
They swirl in the static -- overlapping, whispering.
Children laughing. A wolf’s growl. Her father’s cough.
She grabs the radio, trembling with rage and fear -- hurls it
against the wall with a sharp, guttural cry --
It explodes on impact -- shattering into shards.
Instant silence.
The voices -- gone.
Clare stares at what's left of the radio.
Her breath stutters.
Tears come -- quiet, as if she's afraid the mountain might
hear.
A raw sob tears out before she can stop it.
She sinks to her knees. Shoulders shaking.
She bites her lip to keep from screaming.
Then --
Stillness.
She stands up.
Slow inhale... Slow exhale...
Her spine straightens -- eyes sharpen.
Not broken. Hardened.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
43 -
Silent Command in the Blizzard
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
Through the blizzard, FOUR FIGURES EMERGE --
HAZMAT SOLDIERS, faceless behind matte-black helmets, rifles
raised.
Their movements are unnervingly precise --
No shouts. No hand signals.
Their headlamps sweep long, inquisitive arcs over the
clearing.
Behind them, walking slower... more deliberate...
WALTER.
He’s suited in the same black hazmat gear --
but his helmet is off.
His weathered face gleams in the red hazard lights.
Purposeful.
In command.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
44 -
Silent Command
INT. RADIO ROOM - NIGHT
Clare spots the figures through the swirling white.
Her eyes narrow --
CLARE
(whispers)
No...
Then she sees it:
THE MINE HATCH at the edge of the clearing —
OPEN, steam roiling from the darkness like a living breath.
Walter stops at its edge.
He looks down into it with grim recognition —
as if returning to a place he hoped he’d never see again.
The troopers cluster around him.
Something trembles under the snow around them.
One trooper, SOLDIER 1, lifts his head —
and sees Clare watching from the radio room window.
He taps his rifle twice.
Walter turns toward the tower —
and meets Clare’s eyes across the blizzard.
No surprise.
No relief.
Just a quiet, sorrowful inevitability.
He lifts two fingers — a silent command.
BANG!
The window EXPLODES inward.
Clare dives to the floor as gunfire RIPS through the cabin.
Wood splinters. Metal shrieks. Ice blasts across her face.
She scrambles behind the desk, glass slicing her palms.
Her breathing spikes — the infected veins in her neck flare
brighter, pulsing with adrenaline.
Then --
Silence.
The gunfire stops abruptly.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
45 -
Nightmare in the Snow
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING - NIGHT
Snow whips in horizontal sheets, devouring all light and
sound.
The hazmat soldiers trudge forward through the white void --
Four ghosts in yellow suits, flashlights cutting thin tunnels
through the storm.
Each step is tentative, sinking deeper into the snow than the
last.
A low vibration beneath the ground grows stronger --
A tremor, rhythmic, like a heartbeat buried miles below.
SOLDIER 1
You feel that?
SOLDIER 2
Must be --
CRACK.
The word dies in his throat.
The earth shifts beneath them -- a shuddering groan like the
mountain exhaling.
They freeze.
SOLDIER 3
Wait -- hold position --
BOOM!
The ground ERUPTS in a geyser of snow --
TWO MASSIVE LIONS EXPLODE UPWARD.
The beast’s eyes flare gold -- molten and ancient.
A lion lunges at SOLDIER 1 --
The lion's jaws snap his helmet in half.
Bone splinters, flesh peels.
His body folds backward, spine arching until it breaks clean.
SOLDIER 2 opens fire --
Muzzle flashes strobe through the whiteout.
The second lion moves like vapor -- one moment solid, the
next a blur.
In a flash, the lion smashes into SOLDIER 2 -- claws cleaving
through his armor like wet paper.
His torso separates from his legs -- his upper body flung
into the storm --
Blood arcs in perfect ribbons before vanishing in the wind.
SOLDIER 3 and SOLDIER 4 fan out, panicked, beams flailing
wildly across the storm.
INT. RADIO ROOM - NIGHT
Through a cracked pane, Clare peers out, quivering.
Flashes of gunfire strobe across her face, revealing veins of
gold crawling along her neck.
She watches the soldiers dissolve into chaos.
We hear muffled gunfire and screams.
Clare wants to look away -- but can’t.
Her reflection in the glass stares back at her --
She's pale, feverish -- veins glowing faintly beneath the
skin.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
46 -
Night of the Golden Lions
EXT. MOUNTAIN CLEARING – NIGHT
The blizzard devours sound and space, swallowing the men
whole.
The four hazmat soldiers spread out —
ghosts in black armor, flashlights carving narrow tunnels in
the storm.
Walter stands alone in the center of the clearing.
Still.
Listening.
Under the snow —
a rhythmic vibration grows.
SOLDIER 1
Sir—? Something’s moving beneath --
WALTER
(soft, calm)
We’re not alone.
CRACK.
The ground shifts -- a groaning exhale from the mountain
itself.
SOLDIER 3 stiffens.
SOLDIER 3
Hold position!
BOOM!
THE EARTH ERUPTS in a geyser of white —
TWO MASSIVE LIONS EXPLODE UPWARD.
Eyes molten gold.
Muzzles steaming.
One lion lands on SOLDIER 1 -- its jaws CRUSHING his helmet
instantly.
A wet, snapping crack as his spine folds backward.
SOLDIER 2 opens fire -- muzzle flashes strobing through the
whiteout.
The second lion moves like smoke.
A blur. A whisper.
It hits SOLDIER 2, cleaving his armor open -- his body
tearing in two before disappearing into the storm spray.
SOLDIER 3 and SOLDIER 4 panic -- beams flailing across the
white void.
Walter watches.
Not scared.
Certain.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Supernatural"]
Ratings
Scene
47 -
Descent into the Storm
INT. RADIO ROOM – NIGHT
Clare presses herself close to the cracked windowpane, breath
trembling against the frost-webbed glass.
Below, the storm flickers with bursts of gunfire -- brief,
violent strobes that light her face in harsh flashes.
Each flash reveals more of what’s happening to her:
Golden veins creep up her neck, branching like roots beneath
her skin.
Her pupils dilate unnaturally.
Sweat beads along her hairline despite the cold.
Outside, the screams and roars are muffled, swallowed by wind
and distance.
Clare’s breath fogs the pane.
Her reflection stares back at her through the distorted
glass:
Pale.
Fevered.
Half human.
Half something trying to wake.
Her hand lifts — trembling — and touches the glass, aligning
her fingertips with her ghost-pale reflection.
The golden light beneath her skin pulses once, in sync with
the low THRUM of the mountain below.
A flicker of panic crosses her face.
Her veins flare brighter.
She forces her hand away, horrified.
She spins toward the far wall — where the emergency ladder
chute drops down the tower spine.
The hatch is half-open, rattling in the wind.
Clare steps toward it, legs unsteady, vision blurring at the
edges. She braces a hand on the wall.
She swallows hard, wipes her sleeve across her mouth, and
grips the ladder rails.
Shaking.
Determined.
Changing.
She takes one last look at her reflection in the broken
window.
The woman in the glass is gone.
Clare turns away.
And descends into the storm.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
48 -
Climb of Shadows
EXT. MOUNTAIN RIDGE - NIGHT
The snow churns sideways -- a white ocean swallowing sky and
ground alike.
Clare climbs through it --
Staggering, half-blind, Clare's breath catching in shallow
gasps.
Gold light pulses beneath her skin like bioluminescent roots
spreading through her bloodstream.
Her boot slips on the ice --
She drops to one knee.
She looks at the ridge ahead --
An impossible slope disappearing into a white abyss.
The wind shifts.
Suddenly --
Shapes stir in the snow --
Faint, translucent figures emerge, climb right beside her --
Clare's father, his coat heavy with frost, and Jack, wearing
his army uniform, their faces blurred, hollow-eyed, yet kind.
They climb with her -- silent, steady.
She digs her boots into the slope, pulling herself higher.
A low growl ripples through the blizzard -- distant but
growing closer.
She freezes, the wind slicing her face raw.
Clare grasps the cross necklace around her neck, holding back
tears.
Her breath comes in ragged bursts, each exhale trailing a
faint yellow mist.
Clare staggers upward -- slips again.
Her palm slaps the ice -- her infection flaring.
Steam rises where she touches, the surface melting beneath
her hand.
She looks up --
For a moment -- the storm stills.
Snow falls gently, suspended in the air.
The mountain exhales, and everything breathes with her.
Her body and the mountain -- no longer separate.
Then the moment breaks --
A distant ROAR shatters the calm.
The mountain shakes beneath her boots.
Clare clenches her jaw, trudges forward.
Her eyes -- now bright, feral gold.
Behind her --
The ghosts of her father and Jack fade into the white abyss.
EXT. RIDGE - NIGHT
The ridge rises in jagged terraces, a black spine under white
fangs of cornice.
Wind screams along the rock, peeling snow into banners.
Clare climbs --
Her boots scraping ice, her breath shredding her throat.
The infection thrums with each heartbeat, a hot coil in her
chest.
Low growls roll in the whiteout -- behind, then left, then --
Growls echo everywhere.
Genres:
["Thriller","Horror","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
49 -
Avalanche of Desperation
EXT. RIDGE - LIP OF THE CORNICE - NIGHT
A narrow shelf.
Clare crawls, belly to ice, peering over --
An open bowl, heavy with loaded snow --
The perfect avalanche face.
She claws at a fissure, revealing --
A thin blue seam of hard ice buttressing the slope --
A weak plane.
She shoulders off her backpack, unzips it -- takes the
dynamite out with shaking hands.
She tucks three sticks of dynamite into a natural crack --
then snakes an old blasting cord into the crevice.
A shadow moves in the white below --
Then another.
Yellow eyes blink, then disappear.
Clare forces her breathing to stay steady, but her chest
wheezes, wet.
She pulls her inhaler from her pocket -- hesitates, then
drops it --
It disappears into the whiteness beneath her.
She coughs -- black flecks spit into the snow, blooming gold
before fading.
She digs for her lighter.
The lighter slips -- skittering to the edge.
She lunges -- catching it between her bleeding fingers.
Clare lights the fuse of the blasting cord.
Sulfur sparks --
HISS.
Clare dives behind a toothed outcrop and clamps her jaw --
grasping her hands around the cross on Jack's necklace.
A heartbeat. Two. Ten.
Nothing.
Wind shrieks.
Then --
BOOM!
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - NIGHT
A cathedral wall of snow peels from the mountain with a slow,
apocalyptic grace.
The avalanche drops like a frozen sea rearing -- accelerating
--
A white tide engulfs the bowl in a cacophony of crashing rock
and ice.
Then --
Silence.
A new landscape --
Smoothed. Flattened. Erased.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
50 -
Embrace of the Alpha
EXT. RIDGE - NIGHT
Clare staggers up, coughing, half-smiling.
Behind her — BOOTS crunch in the snow.
A familiar voice, steady. Controlled.
WALTER (O.S.)
Don’t stop now, kid.
You’re almost home.
Clare whirls.
Walter stands fifteen yards downhill, hazmat helmet off,
rifle hanging from his shoulder on a sling. Snow clings to
his suit. His breath plumes steady and unhurried.
He looks old. Tired. Certain.
Clare grips the fire axe with white-knuckled desperation.
CLARE
Stay back.
He climbs toward her, slow and methodical, never breaking eye
contact.
The wind shifts, revealing a black chasm on either side of
the narrowing ridgeline above — nothing but empty air and
jagged rock far below.
He arrives within ten feet of her. Stops.
The wind roars between them.
Up here, the storm is less a sky and more a rotating wall of
shifting grey.
Clare’s veins pulse brighter in the dim light.
Walter studies them with clinical interest.
WALTER (CONT’D)
Synchronization’s accelerating.
You’re adapting fast.
CLARE
You came to kill me.
WALTER
I came to end this.
That might mean killing you.
(softening)
Or it might not.
He unslings his rifle and sets it gently in the snow. Then
raises both hands — empty.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
You’re the daughter of the man who
started this.
Clare flinches, the words hitting like a slap.
CLARE
He didn’t start it.
The Army did.
Walter smiles sadly.
WALTER
The Army built the cage.
Your father opened the door.
Clare’s eyes flash — gold flaring beneath the irises.
The hum in the rock deepens.
Clare grimaces — clutching her head as a wave of sound
crashes through her.
Images flicker behind her eyes:
— The MEADOW OF CORPSES.
— The HIVE pulsing in the mine.
— The ALPHA’s eyes burning through a wall of snow.
— Her father in a hazmat suit, hand pressed to glass.
Clare squeezes her eyes shut.
CLARE
Get out of my head.
WALTER
That’s it.
He taps his chest over his heart.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
It’s getting louder, isn’t it?
Clare’s breathing accelerates. Her pupils narrow into slits.
She bares her teeth — they’ve lengthened, subtly. Enough to
look wrong.
Her voice breaks:
CLARE
You want to kill me — do it.
Walter chuckles softly. It’s not cruel — it’s heartbreakingly
weary.
WALTER
You think I wanted this job?
He stoops, picks up a fistful of snow. Lets it sift through
his fingers.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
I was here when the first breach
happened.
When we thought one lion was the worst the mountain could
spit back at us.
(beat)
I watched your father walk into the Arsenal to “fix” it.
And I watched him never come back out.
Clare’s eyes glisten.
CLARE
You left him.
WALTER
I sealed the door.
Because that’s what containment looks like.
He takes another step forward. Now only a few feet separate
them.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
They sent us back tonight with new
orders.
No cages. No survivors.
Just scorched earth.
Clare’s grip tightens. The axe head trembles.
CLARE
Then why am I still breathing?
Walter’s gaze softens.
WALTER
Because I hoped—
(beat)
—just for a second—
that we’d finally made something that could live with it.
The hum inside the mountain becomes a steady, resonant
HEARTBEAT.
Clare staggers, dropping to one knee.
Her back arches. Muscles ripple unnaturally under her jacket.
Her veins flare BRILLIANT GOLD. Skin stretches. Bones pop in
subtle misalignments, then snap into new positions with wet
cracks.
Clare CHOKES — hands clawing at the snow.
Walter watches, entranced.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
There it is.
He steps closer, kneeling in front of her, eyes shining.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
You feel it, don’t you?
The heartbeat of the valley.
Clare’s fingers dig into the snow. The nails darken, harden —
not full claws yet, but moving that way.
Her perspective shifts — sounds sharpening.
We HEAR:
— Distant avalanches.
— A fox stepping lightly half a mile down-slope.
— The slow grind of glaciers in the high peaks.
It’s overwhelming.
CLARE
(panicked)
Stop… stop… make it stop—
Walter reaches out, grips her shoulders.
WALTER
You can’t shut it out.
She snarls and SHRUGS HIM OFF — hurling him backward with a
burst of inhuman strength.
Walter slams into a jagged rock outcrop, breath driven from
his lungs.
He wheezes, stunned, then laughs.
Clare rises.
Her movements are different now — fluid, predatory. More
weight on the balls of her feet. Spine slightly bowed.
Her eyes glow fully gold in the shadow of her hood.
She bares her teeth — no longer fully human.
CLARE
(voice layered,
distorted)
I’m not your experiment.
Walter drags himself upright, leaning on the rock.
WALTER
You were never mine.
You belong to him.
The hum swells.
Something MASSIVE moves up the slope below, unseen.
Every rock vibrates in time with its approach.
Clare’s head snaps toward the sound — hyper-alert.
Walter takes this moment to move — lunging toward his rifle
buried in the snow.
Clare is faster.
She darts forward in a blur, shoulder-checks him into a rock
before he can reach it.
He grunts, dropping to one knee.
She kicks the rifle, sending it skidding toward the edge of
the ridge.
Walter coughs blood, wiping his mouth.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
There she is…
That’s the predator. The Apex.
Clare grabs him by the front of his hazmat suit, yanking him
close — feet partially off the ground.
The ease of the motion surprises them both.
Her voice is low, dangerous.
CLARE
You want extermination?
She slams him against the rock face.
Walter’s eyes blaze — not with fear, but with a strange
relief.
WALTER
If you kill me…
they’ll send more.
They always do.
Clare’s grip tightens.
CLARE
Then I won’t leave anyone to send
them.
Walter’s smile fades — replaced by a flash of something
harder.
He drives his knee up into her ribs.
The hit lands, but Clare barely flinches.
Instead, her hand snaps down with inhuman speed, catching his
leg.
She YANKS — sending him sprawling to the snow.
He scrambles, fingers closing around a compact sidearm
holstered at his hip.
He whips it up, firing—
The shot grazes Clare’s shoulder, spinning her.
She shrieks — but not in pain. In rage.
Golden blood seeps through her jacket, sizzling faintly as it
hits the snow.
Clare drops to all fours, panting.
For a terrifying moment —
she likes it.
The position. The power. The stability.
Her back arches. Spine elongates slightly. Her limbs flex,
joints cracking.
Walter sees it. Horror and awe blend in his eyes.
WALTER (CONT’D)
(whispers)
My God…
Clare looks up at him, eyes glowing like twin suns.
Her voice is layered — human and something deeper.
CLARE
He’s not listening anymore.
Walter staggers to his feet, gun trained on her.
He steadies his hand, aiming at her heart.
WALTER (CONT’D)
I’m sorry, Clare.
Clare tenses to spring—
The mountain’s heartbeat SLAMS into a crescendo.
The ground vibrates.
A low ROAR rolls up the slope behind Walter.
He freezes.
Snow cascades from an overhang as something enormous
approaches.
Walter doesn’t turn around. He keeps the gun on Clare.
WALTER (CONT’D) (CONT'D)
Eyes on me, Clare.
Clare’s gaze shifts past him.
Her pupils widen.
Her voice drops to a reverent whisper.
CLARE
He’s here.
A shadow swallows Walter.
THE ALPHA rises at the edge of the ridge behind him — a
colossal silhouette against the storm.
Buffalo horns curve from its skull like black crescents. Its
fur ripples with embedded veins of glowing gold. Its incision-
scarred chest pulses with sick light.
Walter’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t look back.
He cocks the handgun.
In an instant, the Alpha’s MASSIVE PAW closes around his
head.
There’s a sickening CRUNCH as bone and helmet collapse
together.
Walter’s body spasms once — then goes limp.
The Alpha lifts him effortlessly, like a broken doll.
For a moment, Walter’s eyes meet Clare’s over the beast’s
fist — still alive, barely. Something like pride flickers
there.
Then the Alpha SQUEEZES.
Walter’s HEAD CRUSHES and SEPARATES in a spray of blood and
plastic.
His decapitated body drops, crumpling bonelessly to the snow.
The Alpha casually flicks the ruined helmet and skull
fragment off the cliff.
They vanish into the void.
Silence.
Only the wind and the slow, thunderous breathing of the
Alpha.
Clare remains on all fours, chest heaving, eyes locked on the
monster.
The Alpha turns its attention to her.
They regard each other across a few feet of snow — predator
and predator.
For a heartbeat, we expect the kill.
The Alpha’s lips curl back, revealing rows of teeth. Its
hackles rise.
Clare meets its gaze without flinching.
The glowing veins in her neck and face sync perfectly with
the glow in the Alpha’s chest — pulsing in the same rhythm.
The mountain hums in unison.
Slowly, Clare rises from all fours to a crouched, almost
feral stand.
Not fully human. Not fully beast.
Her hood falls back.
Gold light spills from her eyes.
The Alpha’s growl changes — deepens, softens.
Instead of pouncing—
It lowers its head.
A submissive gesture.
Slow. Deliberate.
It sinks down until its muzzle is nearly in the snow, massive
shoulders bowing.
Clare stares, stunned.
Her breath clouds the air between them.
She steps forward — tentative — until they are almost
touching.
She lifts a trembling hand and lays it gingerly on the
Alpha’s scarred brow, between the horns.
For a moment, her human fingers look absurdly small.
The moment stretches.
Then --
Her hand grips fur, knuckles tightening.
Her veins flare bright as molten metal.
Her expression shifts — fear giving way to something else:
Recognition.
Understanding.
Ownership.
The Alpha’s massive eyes close, accepting.
The mountain heartbeat becomes deafening — then settles into
perfect sync with Clare’s.
Her posture changes.
Around her neck, still tucked half under her jacket, the
chain of JACK’S CROSS glints dully in the storm light — the
last relic of her human life.
She becomes aware of it — looks down.
Her hand leaves the Alpha.
She fingers the cross, pulling it out so it hangs exposed,
swinging.
Memories flash in rapid succession:
Her jaw clenches.
The cross glows faintly from her reflected gold.
Then she RIPS it from her neck.
The chain snaps.
She stares at it in her palm — this tiny, human thing.
Her breath slows.
She closes her fist around it — then hurls it off the ridge.
We follow the cross as it spins away, swallowed by the void,
tumbling end over end into darkness.
By the time it disappears, the sound of the mountain has
fully replaced the sound of her heartbeat.
Clare turns back to the Alpha.
The storm parts around them, like the wind itself is learning
to move out of her way.
She takes one step… then another…
Then drops smoothly back onto all fours.
Snow doesn’t hamper her now. It supports her.
Muscles coil under her skin.
The Alpha rises with her — falling into step behind, a shadow
at her flank.
Together, they move off the ridgeline, disappearing into the
leaning silhouettes of the upper pines.
Genres:
["Horror","Thriller","Fantasy"]
Ratings
Scene
51 -
Clare's Liberation in the Mountains
EXT. HIGH MOUNTAIN FOREST – DAY
We TRACK with Clare as she runs on all fours through the
forest –
A blur of muscle and light.
JACK (V.O)
The world is different through her
eyes:
Every scent a map.
Every sound a signal.
The dark no longer an obstacle — but a home.
Branches whip past. Snow explodes under her hands and feet,
but never slows her.
She doesn’t look back.
We RISE above the tree line.
Above the ridge.
Above the storm.
The blizzard becomes a swirling veil beneath us.
We see the vast expanse of the ROCKIES — endless rows of
jagged stone vertebrae stabbing into the sky.
Somewhere below, deep within those ribs of rock and ice,
something ancient and new shares the same heartbeat.
The wind howls over the peaks — carrying, just for a moment,
the faint echo of a ROAR:
Not fully human. Not fully animal.
Something in-between.
Something evolved.
The sound fades into the hum of the mountain.
We drift higher, the range stretching into an infinite
horizon.