"It Feeds"

It is

logline :

A small isolated city, sad woman, Lucy has to confront the terrible truth about her missing daughter. Something in the city feeds human suffering, and Lucy is her next goal.

Act 1

ext. Cities-rand -dawn

A lonely highway spreads across the horizon, cutting through the dense forests. The sun dives under the tree and casts a long shadow over a small, down-down city. The camera zooms in on quality homes with modest weather.

int. Lucy's Living Room - Night

Lucy (mid 30 years, disassembled) stares at an old photo of her daughter with Emma (6) smiling in front of her family home. Her eyes are red in front of the cry, and her face is a photo of fatigue and sadness.

Lucy gets messed up; her head grabs the window. The shadow moves over the glass. She sways from the couch and clings to the picture to her chest.

Lucy

(Heiser)

Who is there?

The wind is crying outside, rattling the window pane. Lucy moves to the window, but when she pulls back the curtains, there's nothing. Only the empty roads were wrapped in darkness.

Lucy

(Calm)

Glyph, Lucy.

It turns back into the kitchen, but as your back rotates, you will see a silhouette of the hallway figure temporarily. Lucy doesn't see it.

Lucy

(Whisper)

I think you think, Emma.

Act 2

ext. Cities - Night

The city is incredibly quiet. A full moon hangs in the sky, throwing a cold blue glow on the street. Lucy goes by herself and wears a flashlight. She gives some homes.

Suddenly, she hears a weak sound behind her - scaffolding. The sound accelerates, and Lucy's pace pulls her heart into her chest. It turns a corner and is attacked by open, overgrown property.

Lucy

(Whisper)

Where is it?

She enters the lot, and the beams of her flashlight dance on weeds and abandoned cars. Her breath is squished as she calls out.

Lucy

(Screams)

Emma! Emma!

If you suddenly get bored from the other side of the property, it will freeze. It changes quickly, but when the beam hits the point, it is empty. Silence again.

Lucy

(Sway)

Please go back...please.

Something moves again - behind it. Lucy turns around and appears to be directly in a rotten figure a few meters away. It's an a man with sinking eyes and twisted smirks. It is covered in old dry blood.

Lucy

(stolen behind)

No... you're not the real thing!

Man

(soft, scratch)

It feeds you...Lucy.

Lucy

(Scream)

No! Get away from me!

She trips backwards, but the man does not move. His eyes never leave her. The flashlight flickers and throws around in the shade. Once the light stabilizes, the man will disappear. But his voice remained.

Man

It comes for those who remember it all the time.

Act 3

int. Lucy House - Night

Lucy breaks the door and grabs the air. Your heart will rest. She locks the door behind her, and her hands tremble. She rushes to her daughter's room and stares at the empty bed. Cold sweat forms on her forehead.

Lucy

(Tweet)

It's authentic. It's real.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sudden sound of ** from the attic. The noise is rhythmic, almost like a claw pulling on wood. Lucy freezes, her eyes far from the fear. She slowly goes to the attic door and places her hand on the old rusty button.

She hesitates. She then caught it and opened it. It creaks when the stairs rise. With each step, the air gets colder, and you can see your breath.

Lucy

(Whisper to myself)

It's just a dream. It's just a dream.

The scratch will stop when you reach the top. The attic is dark and dusty, with rays shaking under the weight of age. The flashlight will flicker in your hand before it completely goes out. She pulls out the match and lights it up.

Lucy

(Frightened)

Please...

Matchlight flickers while she scans the room. Then, in the corner of the attic, she sees it: a doll - an old, crushed doll, sitting on a rocking chair. His eyes are wide and unverdant.

Lucy

(Whisper)

Emma?

It takes a step forward, but as her feet hit the floor, it moves back a little. She turns around and has a pound of heart, but there's no one there.

Lucy

(spoken)

Please... Please let me know where it is!

Suddenlyn Doll The head turns, his eyes locked in Lucy. She screams, stumbling behind her, stumbling over the box. The attic door slammed into the back and fell into the darkness. She tries to get up, but her legs tremble. It is covered with obvious human skin that stretches above its skeletal frame. It feeds losses. About sadness. To those who remember.

Creatures' voices echo in their thoughts while their huge arms extend to them. She can feel a cold breath around her neck. Your vision blurred as the lights flickered from the match again.

Lucy

(scream, cry)

No, I won't leave it!

She tries to stand, but it is pulled back to the creature. Your heart races. With her panic she finally drops the match, everything goes black.

Act

int. Lucy Living Room - Day Lucy wakes up on her sofa and exhales. Sweat pours down her face, and her pulse laces. She appears confused and confused in the room. Everything is quiet.

You can see Emma's photos again on the coffee table. This time it's a little different. The photo has cracks. She takes it and trembles. *

Lucy

(Whisper)

Emma?

In the photo, Emma's face is no longer smiling. Her eyes were dark and hollow, as if they had taken her soul.

Suddenly the house moves - The air gets cold and the walls ring violently. It feeds what they remember.

Lucy is shaking. She knows that whatever this is, it's still coming. And it comes for you. The room is small and chokes. A soft scratch starts from the wall and becomes bigger.

Farm the frightening idea that mourning, loss, and trauma can take the life of your life, fed to sacrificial emotions. The existence of history is forgotten supernaturally and psychologically, psychologically, psychologically, psychologically and psychologically and psychologically and psychologically and psychologically as manifestations of the deepest fears and memories that we reject. When Lucy is immersed in fear, the boundaries between reality and nightmare are blurred, and she must face the frightening possibility that what feeds it is not just a unit, but a reflection of her own fear.