The Girl Who Fell

Introduction

Been working on a few things that have taken me away from the Diary in the last couple of months and for that I must apologise. I have now arranged a couple of days in the week to attend to other matters that should leave me with a little more time to come back to the diary and continue dropping stories here and there.

Here’s a little something I’ve been working on. Not too Sure where it’s going or what’s it for. Seems to be set in the same world as Burn but as of yet I do not know what the connection is. Will it blossom into something more or is this a little snippet a scene to be used somewhere else. I can’t honestly say but here it is nonetheless. When I get more  you’ll be the first to read it.

Anyway. I’ll be seeing a little more of you soon.

Zig

INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY
The room is sparse. Perfunctory. Fine, if a little run down.The curtains are all but pulled allowing a small crack of light to cut through the dense air creating a warm beam across the far wall.

For a moment the beam of light hangs like a polite visitor standing in the corner observing the unmade bed as a mother would do before bringing cookies and milk into the room.

But there are no cookies.

Just the light.

And then it moves.

Slightly.

Imperceptibly.

But it moves.

Towards the bed and around the room picking up speed as if in a time lapse image sequence.

But this is not time lapse.

The beam hits the bed like a photocopiers scanner and we see the faint image of a couple fucking, their outline hazed in the glittering dust. A shimmering hologram of light that flickers in and out of existence.

But this doesn’t interest the light and it moves on and the hologram is gone.

The beam leaves the bed and settles on the half closed door. Through the crack

we see a bath tub. Just a peak.

The light stops.

And waits, gently pushing on the door, photons bombarding the door patient and constant.

The door responds slowly falling open revealing a broken and bruised man collapsed in the tub, hand barely clutching an abused bottle of Jim Beam.

The light hangs in the doorway, observing.

Then the door finishes it’s arch and hits the sliver radiator with a polite ding.

The big man snaps awake grabbing his bottle and holding it up like a club pointing it at the corner of the bathroom. The corner, black, dark.

The adrenaline makes him alert but only for a moment and then the hangover kicks in.

He looks around remembering a crazy night and forgetting more.

He looks at the shaft of light standing in the door way and tries to get up.

He slips back into the tub and cracks his head. Swearing under his breath.

He touches the back of his head and feels a little blood.

That’s not going to help his headache.

He pulls himself out of the bath. He’s naked save for his trousers and they are not properly on.

He stands over the toilet takes a piss and tries to compose himself.

It’s not having much of an effect.

After his piss he washes his hands and throw cold water over his face.
Better.

He smells himself and wishes he hadn’t

He runs the hot tap and washes his pits.

The stream rises and condenses on the glass mirror.

The big man looks up and sees writing forming on the mirror.

BEHIND YOU.

The man spins around but it’s not fast enough a shadow reaches out grabbing him with long spindly fingers.

Fingers that push across his face and into his mouth and push to engulf the man.

He is taken almost off his feet and back into the shadow into a deep corner that is empty as the void of space.

The man grabs the corner of the doorway and fights the shadows but it’s not enough.

The shadows take him. Swallow him dragging him deep within the darkness.

And then he is gone.

And the room is silent.

And the light observes.

Then we hear fighting.

Distant at first.

Like someone fighting a squealing pig far off in the next room.

Out of the darkness the big man climbs fighting his way out.

The shadow continues to try to consume him but the man is too much for them.

He is almost out and he’s dragging something.

Or someone.

By the wrist.

And it’s fighting him.

A child?

No. A hellspawn.

Kicking and screaming and biting the man drags the kid toward the light.

And as the light touches the demons skin it sears.

And the kid screams.

The man pulls the kid back.

THE MAN
All I want is a name.

The hellspawn bares it’s teeth all pointed and filed and bites the big man taking a chunk out of his arm.

In response the man takes the kid right up to the cracked curtain and opens it a little it’s light burning the child now pleading in the guise of a human child.

THE HELLSPAWN
It burns!
THE MAN
How many times are we going to do this little dance Biba?
THE HELLSPAWN
Fuck you pig!

Again into the light.

THE HELLSPAWN (CONT’D)
How could you I am a child.
THE MAN
You’re no child, hellspawn.

The man burns the creature.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
Just give me a name or we’ll do this again tomorrow and the next day and the next…
THE HELLSPAWN
Until you’re dead.
THE MAN
Or you’re dead.
THE HELLSPAWN
I can’t die.
THE MAN
Really? You know how many days we’ve been doing this? You been counting?

The Hellspawn doesn’t give a shit.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
I make it 30 days days.

The hellspawn is worried now.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
Yeah. You should be shitting yourself. Today’s the day I get to kill you. Lunar Cycle motherfucker.

The Hellspawn screams and the man drive the point home by letting a little more sunlight fall on the creature.

THE HELLSPAWN
You’ll let me go?
THE MAN
I’ll let you go.
THE HELLSPAWN
And I have your fucking word on that?

The man just looks at him like it’s a stupid question.

THE HELLSPAWN (CONT’D)
And how do I know I can trust you?
THE MAN
Well if I lied to you then word would get around I am not a man of my word. And my word is my bond.
THE HELLSPAWN
But you can’t be trusted. You’re …you.
THE MAN
And you’re a demon that feeds on runaway children but here we are. At some point you’ve got to have a little faith, Biba.
THE HELLSPAWN
I cannot say his name.
THE MAN
Then write it down.
THE HELLSPAWN
I cannot read or write.
THE MAN
Standards are slipping.

The Man is loosing his patience.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
The name. I want a fucking name.
THE HELLSPAWN
I can’t she’ll hear me.

Again the demon goes into the light.

THE MAN
You think?

Again into the light.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
And the name is?

The hellspawn pronounces something almost unintelligible. A gutteral moan in a demon tongue.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
Really?
THE HELLSPAWN
Really. You cock sucking piece of shit. Now let me go we had a bargain.
THE MAN
Yeah the thing is. I lied.

The man throws the demon into the light opening the curtain sending it screaming to a hell for hell’s creatures.

All that is left is a puddle of burned flesh and slime.

The Man steps over the puddle and walks to the suitcase unpacking a perfectly folded suit and underneath a another bottle of Jim Beam.

He takes the bottle and gulps a mouthful.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
Disgusting little creature.

He looks at the light.

THE MAN (CONT’D)
Not one of mine.

Categories: horror, Script, sketch

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

Get Social

Follow the Diary.

Follow the Author Zig Bingham.

Follow DIARY OF SHORT DISTURBANCES on WordPress.com

Instagram

#conceptart for Special Delivery.  Read the #script @ the Diary.
#dailydoodle #cartoon #animation #screenwriting #dailydoodle First page of new sketchbook. Hand practice is paying off.

#bridgman #pencildrawing #practice #anatomy #dailydoodle 
Final page of my first sketchbook. A New Year's resolution that I didn't take seriously til March nonetheless took me all this time to finish. Didnt do anything for a few months then got fired up and did the other  half of it in the last couple of months. Very happy at the progress too and loving the process. 
My take on a couple of panels from issue 18 of #justiceleague international from writers Giffen and DeMattis and #dccomics . This is my personal favourite take on JLI. The humour was great and took the piss out of the whole Superhero mythos with a loving wink. 
#BoosterGold #Fire #Bluebeetle #sketches #comicart #dailydoodle 
Old man. 
#dawing #pencil #portrait #dailydoodle 
Just a vagina penis monster. As you do. 
#drawdaily #drawing #creature #dailydoodle basic figure drills today. Felt that my proportions weren't right so literally went back to the drawing board. Shouldn't be playing videogames #pylons #telegraph #winteriscoming #dailydoodle super quick super rough. #Procreate #timelapse #dailydoodle #dailydoodle Side on Portrait.
%d bloggers like this: