| Creepin | 2006-06-25 04:40:00 |
 Posts: 126 Topics participated: 89 Topics started: 30 First post: 2006-04-16 04:37:00 Last post: 2006-08-04 12:03:00 |
Hey guys. I've never written a movie or screenplay or anything. I just had an idea for zombie movie and thought I'd put it to paper. I don't neccessarily like making a movie about the START of a zombie outbreak. I kinda like how Land Of The Dead came right into the middle of it. But since the story is based almost entirely on my life and town, I think it's fun to write. I decided to just post it. It's incredibly long for what will actually only take minutes if made into a movie. Enjoy it if you want to read it. I hope you like it. Un-named work Tony LaRosa 10/13/2005 [Camera focuses on a pair of hands slowly cleaning a semi-automatic pistol. The dark blue finish of the gun is impressively beautiful. The hands are polishing oil off the slide of the gun. In the background there is indistinct chatter and the sound of a register printing a receipt. Infrequent muffled gunshots don't disturb the steady conversation of the store or the steady hands cleaning the gun. The camera pulls back to see our main character, Jack, sitting behind the counter of a retail firearm store. Jack is in his early 20's. As he finishes cleaning the firearm, he sets it down in front of him. Among the items in front of him are cleaning supplies and his cell phone. The small phone begins to vibrate. Jack's hands are covered in oil, so he clumsily presses a button on the phone to ignore the call. The phone stops vibrating and "5 missed calls" is displayed on the screen. Jack looks puzzled as hewipes his hands and walks to the back of the store, cellphone in hand.] Jack: No one calls me. [Jack enters a small room filled with firearms, ammunition, and other merchandise. On the walls are posters for holsters and gun accessories, each poster has a woman from the late 80's with big hair and big boobs. He scowls at the picture of a woman in a bathing suit holding a sub machine gun. Jack flips open the phone to see he has 3 voice messages waiting. He dials his voicemail number and enters his password when prompted.] Automated Voice: You have 3 new messages. First new message. Female Voice: Jack, it's your mother. We're heading up to the lake for the weekend. If you need the truck, it'll be at the house. You know where the key is. Have a good weekend! Love you! [Jack presses a key on the phone] Automated Voice: Message deleted. Next message. Male Voice: Yo, dude, what's going on, it's Mike. I'm trying to get over the bridge to come by your berg but there's so much f**king traffic in the city. It's crazy here. I guess it's just because it's Friday. Anyways, I'll see you tonight. Alright, word! [Jack presses a button] Automated Voice: Message deleted. Next message. [As Jack listens, there is only silence. Then a groan on the line and a strange sound that Jack can't discern. Almost like the sound of an animal eating noisily. Thinking it's a friend, as he has many that eat noisily, he continues to listen, but is soon called to attention by his manager, Dale. He snaps the phone shut and faces his boss, who is standing at the door of the store's gun vault. Dale is shorter and smaller than Jack, with a balding head and jeans that are fit like a glove. Jack thinks Dale is a miserable human being.] Dale: I don't pay you to sit back here and talk on your f**king phone. Find something to do or you can just go home and not get a paycheck today! Jack: Alright, alright. Sorry Dale, damn. Dale: And don't forget you're cleaning the lead traps tonight and I can't take you home so you'd better figure out how to get a ride! [Jack shrugs as he walks away from Dale, who closes the vault door and double checks to make sure it's secure.] [Scene changes to interior of the shooting range connected to the store. The camera pans from left to right, passing empty shooting stalls. Targets still hang in some stalls. None of the targets look like they belonged to experienced shooters. The camera reaches the end of the lanes, where a single shooter is firing at his target in the distance. Jack is busy sweeping forward unto the range, so shooters don't slip on the empty shells. As Jack begins to sweep behind the shooter, the man stops firing and turns halfway to look at Jack. The man, Dave, is in his early 40's, with premature grey hair and Buddy Holly glasses. Jack thinks Dave is crazy, but he's one of Jack's favorite customers.] Dave: Jacko, don't sweep my brass up, you know I need to keep it. [Jack doesn't respond, instead gesturing towards Dave's target.] Jack: Why are you shooting at the head? You know you're supposed to shoot 'center-mass'. Dave: Because head shots are the only sure shot to make. You hit 'em in the head and they're dead, baby. Jack: They? You're shooting cardboard, Dave. Besides, you wouldn't want to miss in competition because you're trying to show off. [Jack finishes sweeping and walks away as Dave reloads his semi-auto pistol and continues firing. The camera stays with Dave as he hits the same hole every shot. Boom. Headshot. Boom. Headshot. Boom. Headshot.] [Scene changes to the interior of the store. The digital clock reads 7:45 PM, Fri. The store closes at 8:00PM. Jack walks in, removing his ear protection as Dale talks on the phone. Dale appears to be talking to the store's owner, as he is giving the totals from the day's sales.] Dale: I don't know why, but people were buying ammunition like it was going out of style. We sold almost all of our ammo, so I'll have to place an order on Monday. We have enough ammo in the back to get us through the weekend, though. I'll have Jack put it out before he leaves tonight. Ok. Alright, talk to you tomorrow. [Dale hangs up the phone and finishes counting out the cash register. All the firearms have been put away and the store is now barely lit. Jack switches the neon sign off and continues cleaning the store. Dave exits the range with his firearms case and a shooting bag. Dave has his ear protection on, and doesn't realize how loud he's talking] Dave: HEY, DID YOU GUYS HEAR THE NEWS AT ALL TODAY!? THERE'S SOME BIG WAR PROTEST OR SUMTHIN' GOIN' ON IN THE CITY AND THE COPS ARE OUT THERE BEATING PEOPLE UP! IT'S CRAZY! I'M GLAD THE PEOPLE ON THIS SIDE OF THE BRIDGE ARE P***IES AND THEY DON'T GET ALL RILED UP AND VIOLENT! [Jack pulls Dave's ear protection off] Dave: Sorry....hey, anyway, you guys should check out the news. Apparently a couple people are dead. All over some stupid politics. Oh well, they won't get to me. [Dave holds up his target, which has a large hole in the center of the head. Dave walks to the door just as Dale grabs his belongings and starts to follow him out. Dale turns to Jack, who is still cleaning the store.] Dale: Alright, I'm taking off. Do the lead traps and put out all the ammo that needs to be restocked. I'm going to keep the alarm OFF so you don't set it off and make the alarm company charge me 200 bucks. Make sure the vault's closed when you leave, and you set the alarm. Don't f**k up. [Camera shows the exterior of the building. Dale locks the door behind him as he exits. Jack is still visible inside, now putting on headphones to listen to music as he works. The parking lot and store are poorly lit. As Dave's and Dale's car slowly exit the parking lot, only one vehicle remains. The vehicle is across from the store, in front of a rolling door that is open enough at the bottom to see the light from inside. Someone else is working late too. Leaves roll in to the picture. It's early October. We see, as the camera zooms out, that the store is located in an industrial area of a largely suburban city. ] [Scene change to Mike -- to be written] [Scene changes to interior of the range. A ladder stands at the end of range, under the hanging plates of steel that protect the ceiling from bullets. A rubber boot suddenly descends unto the ladder. The legs continue to climb down the steps until we see Jack, dressed in a protective suit, with rubber gloves, boots, and a respirator. Sweat pours down his face. Stepping out of his suit, he has finished his duties for the night. The digital clock reads 9:15 PM, Fri. He walks to a store room closet and puts his gear away. Grabbing his cellphone off the counter, he heads to the door. A ligh flashes on a panel next to the door.] Jack: I thought that idiot said he was going to leave the alarm off? [Jack reaches for the alarm panel but recoils when he sees what he thinks to be blood on the keys. Jack quickly tests the door to make sure it's locked and then spins around, looking into the darkened store. Me moves to the light panel across the room and flips the switch. He immediately notices the vault room door is ajar. As quickly as he can, Jack flips the light off and flattens himself against the wall. Confused, Jack slowly walks towards the vault. He is at the thresh-hold of the door, and can hear something faint on the other side of the thick wood between him and the interior of the vault. Jack's heart pumps hard against the inside of his chest. He can see that there is more blood on this door. This time, in a distinct hand-print shape. Using his foot against the bottom of the door, he slowly pushes the door open. He quickly recognizes Dale, who is facing away from him, looking at the posters on the wall. Sick B*st&rd. Jack then notices the pool of blood mixing with the dirt on the floor. The blood is running down the front of Dale's body. In Dale's right hand is his most prized handgun, which he keeps at the store. The hammer is back, the safety is off. Jack knows he always keeps it loaded. Jack steps back, out of the vault.] Jack: Dale, what the hell are you doing, dude, are you OK!? [Dale slowly turns around towards Jack, who can only focus on the pistol in Dale's hand. Jack senses that Dale is moving towards him now, and the pistol stays at his side, never raising towards Jack. Jack levels his eyes to Dale's face and is sent reeling backwards.] Jack: Ooh, f**k! Holy s**t, are you ok? Dale? [Dale continues to move towards Jack. Dale is bleeding profusely from his neck, where there is a large wound. It looks like the wound could've been caused by a gunshot, and Jack wonders if his manager had just tried to kill himself. Dale's eyes are unhuman as he lurches closer to Jack. He growls low, and advances. Jack has moved out of the vault, and is too far away from the door to close it on Dale as he stumbles towards him. Dale doesn't respond as Jack continues to ask what has happened. Turning away from Dale, Jack runs for the door. The sweat on his hands prevents him from operating the key. He runs from the front door and into the range, slamming the sally port doors behind him. He's in pitch black range, looking through the windows back into the store. Through the glass he looks at the light switches that would illuminate the range, but dismisses the thought. Dale is still following him, and he'd rather be as invisible as possible. The only sound is Jack breathing heavily, and the vent in the roof rotating in the night breeze. Moonlight filters through the vent, leaving a pattern of light on the floor. Jack holds his breath. The wind dies down. The light stops moving on the floor. All noise has ceased. Suddenly, Dale slams his body unto the glass seperating them. His hands are above him, pressing against the window. He still clutches the pistol. Dale pounds against the glass with seemingly all his force. His mouth gapes open and his wound still discharges blood slowly. Jack pins himself against the frame of the door. Dale can't shoot through the glass or walls, and Jack is big enough to hold the door closed. But Dale doesn't reach for the door knob. Instead, he continues to pound himself against the glass. Jack steps back, quickly finding the thing he can use to defend himself in the range. Picking up the wooden handled push broom, he returns to the door. Dale has not ceased in his efforts to gain entry.] Jack: I don't know what your f**king problem is but you're freaking me out. Calm down and we'll get you to the hospital. Ok? [Dale continues to wail against the door. His groans of pain drowned out by the steady THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. The pistol knocks against the glass. Suddenly, Dale releases his grip on the gun, letting it fall to the floor. As the gun descends the 6 feet to the hard concrete floor, Jack braces for a shot. Clack. Nothing. Jack shakes his head. He knows guns don't shoot by themselves. Returning his focus on Dale, Jack knows he has to do something before he gets the pistol again. Jack sets the broom down, stomping on the handle. The broom snaps, breaking off a 3 foot section, sharp at the end. Clutching his weapon, he gets ready to confront Dale.] Jack: I'm going to beat the s**t out of your bald head if you don't get the f**k away from the door right now, Dale, I'm serious! [Thump. Thump. Ughhhhhhhh Jack swallow hard as he realizes what he's about to do. Jack turns the knob and let's the door unlatch from the frame. He springs back as Dale eagerly pushes his way into the darkened range. He's moving faster now, and Jack is taken off-guard. Falling backwards over a plastic garbage can, Jack realizes Dale is right above him. But the gun is still where it had fallen. Jack thrusts upwards with the sharp pike, knowing this is self defense. He has to do this. The wood forces it's way past Dale's faded Air Force windbreaker and enters his lower abdomen. Jack can feel the wood pass through Dale, probably piercing organs and displacing vitals. Jack releases the handle as he stands and Dale regains his balance. Unphased, Dale grabs at Jack. Jack slips Dale's grasp and runs for the door. He runs through the range door and into the sales room. Dale is now trapped behind the sally port doors, once again seperated from Jack. Jack goes to the phone and picks up the receiver. He clumsily dials 911. Busy signal.] Jack: F**K! [As Jack slams down the phone, he looks out the window, across the parking lot. A red two door is parked in front of the building across from his. The roll up door is half way open, and ducking under the door, out of the now darkened building is Janet. She is Jack's age. Jack quickly runs towards the door, unlocking it with his shaking hands. Running full tilt across the parking lot. Frantic.] Jack: Janet! Janet! [Janet turns to see Jack approaching, bewildered. Even in the darkness, even in this state, Jack can see Janet's flawless fair skin and beautiful blue eyes. Janet is tall, and wears shirts that expose her mid-drift. Even in cold weather. As always, Janet is impeccably dressed and her hair seems perfectly suspended as though she had just done it. Jack has thought more than once about working late with Janet. Jack grabs ahold of Janet, and awkwardly, as he always does, begins to speak without thinking. Through his mixed up words and incoherant ranting, Janet gathers something very serious has taken place. She places her hands on Jack's face, still wet with perspiration.] Janet: Slow down, Jack, relax!! [Janet has an amazing relaxing effect on Jack. Jack's eyes race over Janet's worried but confident face and he begins to calm down. Nonetheless, he is still disturbed by what just happened. Jack grabs Janet's hand and pulls her towards her car.] Jack: We need to get out of here. We need to go to the police! I just stabbed my f**king boss in the chest and he's bleeding out of his neck but I didn't stab him in the neck! I mean, he had a gun and maybe he shot himself but he was chasing me with it and there was blood everywhere!!! [Jack has let go of Janet and he's now waiving his arms wildly as he recounts the attack. Janet stops and watches Jack as he mimes the event. Jack has always been a show-off and an attention getter, so Janet laughs, assuming he's just trying to impress her with theatrics. Hearing her laughter, Jack stops and spins towards Janet.] Jack: What, you don't believe me!? Janet: I'm supposed to believe your manager attacked you in the dark and you impailed him with a broom? Right, dude... [Frustrated, Jack spins around with his hands outstretched, cursing. Stopping himself, Jack sees Dale's truck stuck in the irrigation canal running alongside the buildings. The engine is running, the hazard lights flashing.] Jack: Look, there's his truck right there, I swear to GOD, Janet, he's in there with a spike through his chest! Janet: Alright. Show me. [Returning to the dimly lit store, Jack cautiously moves behind Janet as she boldly walks towards the range. Blood is now easy to see. It's everywhere. On the walls, on the glass, and on the floor. The space beyond the window is dark. Jack is sure Dale is still in there. On the floor below the light switch lays the pistol Dale had been holding moments before. Janet kneels down and picks up the 45 caliber handgun. It is heavy in her hand, and she has never shot a gun before.] Jack: Oh, uh, give that to me. Janet: No. Jack: Ok. [Jack flips on the light switch, illuminating the range. Standing in the center of the room is Dale, fully upright, facing Jack and Janet. The 3 foot section of wood still lodged halfway through his stomach, his whole body now completely covered in blood. Janet gasps and steps backwards, bumping into Jack.] Jack: I told you! I f**king told you! Janet: Look at all that blood! Why isn't he dead!? [Dale seems not to notice the two, but begins to focus through the blood covering his face. Letting out another low moan, he steps towards the door. With arms outstretched, he quickly reaches the door, once again throwing his full weight at the barrier. His eyes are bloodshot and his pupils are dialated. It looked like he was on drugs, but Dale isn't cool enough to do drugs.] Janet: Is this thing loaded? [Janet raises the gun and points at Dale through the glass] Jack: Yeah, probably. But that's bulletproof glass. Wait, what the f**k, you're going to shoot him!? Janet: Look at him, Jack! He's not even alive! He's some kind of f**king monster! Jack: He's an asshole, yeah, but that doesn't make him a f**king monster. [Dale moans and slams his face against the glass, breaking his teeth against the resistant plexiglass] Jack: Oh, that's so gross! Shoot him, shoot him in the head! [Janet pulls open the door and kicks Dale backwards with her long leg. Dale falls to the floor, pushing the wood handle back out the way it entered. Blood and bile spills unto the floor as Dale attempts to rise. Janet has advanced towards Dale and now stands directly above him with her right arm outstretched, pistol in hand, finger on the trigger. Jack thrusts his fingers into his ears as Janet takes aim.] Jack: Do it! [The firearm recoils as a bullet leaves the chamber and enters Dale's skull. As quickly as the gun fires, Dale becomes motionless. Janet drops the gun as she feels it cycle, and it once again falls to the floor. Jack uncovers his ears as Janet retrieves the firearms from the floor. The gun has jammed, and Janet hands it to Jack] Janet: That was intense... Jack: God damn... [Jack clears the jammed firearm, loads the magazine, reinserting it into the firearm, and chambers a round. This is Jack's work, so he performs this action without thinking as he stares at the now lifeless corpse of his manager Dale. Engaging the safety, he sticks the gun in the back of his pants and turns to Janet who is kneeling over the wound she made in Dale's head.] Janet: That's the grossest thing I've ever seen. Cool, huh...? [Scene change, interior of the vault. Blood dries on the ground. Janet is watching and rewatching the in-store surveillance of the last two hours. The video monitors playback images from seven cameras. The video playback has no audio. 8:40PM, Dale's truck enters the parking lot, covered by Camera 1. He is driving very fast and seems to lose control as he goes over a speed bump. His truck exits the frame of the picture. Camera 2 view, Front Door. He is holding his neck as he frantically locks the front door and punches in the alarm code. The alarm activates and Dale runs into the store area. He appears to be searching the store and upstairs area. Camera 3 view, sales floor. Camera 4 view, range. Camera 5, offices, Camera 6, storage area. He is probably looking for Jack. But why? Jack: He knew I was cleaning the traps. Why didn't he just call for me in the range? [Janet looks at Jack, and nods. Jack looks down and sees his headphones around his neck. Loud metal music is coming from the headphones. Jack had been wearing them on the range and hadn't heard Dale enter. He switches off his music. Jack refocuses on the video playback. 9:00PM. Camera 7. Dale is standing in the vault. He is opening his safe, retrieving his handgun. Dale struggles with the lock, as his hands appear to be covered in blood. Dale raises the gun to the bottom of his chin. A tense moment as Jack understands what Dale is about to do. Jack realizes Dale doesn't pull the trigger. The neck wound was already there. Dale lowers the gun. He is still holding his neck. He goes to the counter Jack is now sitting on. He appears to write something on a pad of paper. As he writes, he lurches forward, seemingly in pain. His upper body hits the counter. His arms fall limp and he appears motionless. 9:01. 9:02. Dale moves. He stands. Clutching the pistol, he does not attempt to continue writing. He does not raise the gun to his head again. Instead, he stands, with his back to the door, head hung low. Janet fast forwards the video until Jack enters the picture. Jack turns. He knows what happens next. Jack gets off the counter and looks for what Dale had written. On the counter lies an invoice that has Dale's handwriting. In poorly written English is written: "amboshd at home, bit bye 1, think i'm deying..." Jack rereads the note. The last thing Dale ever wrote or said. The last time he'd ever butcher the English language. Jack looks up as Janet gasps. She has finished watching the playback of the entire event. Now the monitor shows live feed from all cameras that detect motion. Only the vault camera should be displayed. But camera 1 is also showing. As Jack focuses, he realizes what Janet already has. Out of the shadows in the poorly lit parking lot, people are staggering towards the store. Their clumsy walk eeriely similar to that of Dale's as he grumbled and lumbered towards Jack...... To be continued. That took me awhile just to write that. By the way, this is my property and I claim the rights to it. Thanks. Holla. |
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Zombie movie
| -=Ac3=- | 2006-06-25 05:29:00 |
 Posts: 267 Topics participated: 212 Topics started: 27 First post: 2006-03-25 04:49:00 Last post: 2007-03-19 06:40:00 |
Ill read it cuz i luv ya =) |
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| Caligula | 2006-06-25 11:07:00 |
 Posts: 3013 Topics participated: 2311 Topics started: 168 First post: 2006-02-20 17:48:00 Last post: 2008-12-31 20:03:00 |
"displacing vitals" - LOL!! I love it... "Janet: That's the grossest thing I've ever seen. Cool, huh...?" - Nice tag line!! Definately written by a gun nut, your insane, nice job, I can't wait for the movie... |
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| gateway | 2006-06-25 13:37:00 |
 Posts: 58 Topics participated: 55 Topics started: 1 First post: 2006-05-19 22:04:00 Last post: 2006-07-07 19:40:00 |
if you make it a movie ill definitely go and watch it but i want more blood and violence :bigemo_harabe_net-117: |
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