Post by jayvee on Jul 30, 2006 8:39:47 GMT -5
This time, a short story I submitted for a horror jam they're doing.
If they like this one better than the others, it'll get the whole treatment.
PROJECT: PENCILJACK FUSION -- WESTERN HORROR SUBMISSION
TITLE: HOWLERS
AUTHOR: JEREMIAH ALLAN
CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS
1.) JACK WEBSTER: Thirty-something-year-old drifter, typical American cowboy apparel who never takes off his dead wife's scarf; Jack has a pistol holstered on each hip with an ammo belt to match; his features are rugged, overcome with stubble though not a full beard.
2.) ONE-EYED JUAN: An older Mexican man into his fifties, Juan doesn't bother wearing a patch to cover the multiple slasher marks responsible for the loss of his eye; he is dressed in a traditional Mexican poncho and sombrero with a shotgun strapped across his back.
PAGE ONE.
P1. Night is come; bright stars shine in the sky above a circle of covered wagons camped up until morning. There's a fire lit in the center of the ring, a trail of smoke and embers drifting up through the thermal drafts.
[CAP] 1862.
[CAP] OUT HERE, THERE'S A WHOLE LOTTA NOCTURNAL MONSTERS THOSE CITY FOLK BACK EAST AIN'T EVER SEEN.
[CAP] AIN'T NEVER GUNNA SEE 'EM, NEITHER.
[CAP] KINDA SPOOKS A FELLAH RUNS ACROSS IN THIS HERE NEW STATE UH KANSAS AIN'T THE KIND TA BE SEEN… NOT LESS'N THEY WANNA BE.
P2. JACK WEBSTER hunched over on a log in front of the camp's fire with a bowl of chili in one hand, a spoon in the other despite his lips being so close to the bowl that he might as well be drinking it, anyway. He looks down into the bowl, paying no mind to anything but himself.
[CAP] WAY I FIGGER, THERE'S PROB'LY ONLY TWO HOMBRES IN THIS WHOLE COUNTRY WHO'VE ACTUALLY WITNESSED WHAT THESE WESTERN NIGHTS TRULY HAVE TA OFFER.
[CAP] I'M ONE UH THE TWO.
P3. ONE-EYED JUAN sits on his saddle-bags, elbows on his knees with a bowl of chili in hand, as well. The spoon inside the bowl, however, stays where it's at, leaning against the side; it seems that he has no interest in food, instead staring into the blaze.
[CAP] OL' JUAN OVER THERE'S THE OTHER.
[CAP] TOUGHEST SON OF A GUN I EVER DID MEET, AN' MEANER'N A SACK UH HUNGRY RATTLERS… LIKELY ON ACCOUNT UH THAT MISSIN' EYE.
[CAP] LEAST HE'S STILL GOT ONE.
P4. An old-fashioned photograph of a man (JACK), his wife and son sits beside JACK on the log as he eats. In the picture, they're all dressed in formal--almost regal--attire; only the woman and the boy are smiling.
[CAP] ME, I MAY GOT MUH GAWD-GIVEN SIGHT BUT I'D TRADE IT ALL IN A HEARTBEAT TA HAVE BACK WHAT'S IN THIS BEAT-UP OL' PHOTOGRAPH.
PAGE TWO.
P1. Wide: JACK turns his head, looking off into the distance at the source of the howl.
[CAP] THEY SAY THAT THE LAWD GIVETH AN' THE LAWD TAKETH AWAY…?
[CAP] THAT MAY BE TRUE BUT THAT DON'T MEAN IT STILL DON'T HURT SOME.
[SFX, trailing off] AWOOOOOOOOOOO.
P2. Large: JACK stands, an angry expression overtaking his face as his fists clench at his sides; the bowl of chili drops to the ground, spilling as it falls near the campfire. All around the inside of the circled wagons, giant werewolves in tattered human clothing terrorize the settlers--chasing or pouncing on them and ripping them to shreds; JUAN still sits, staring into the fire; he's apparently unfazed by the creatures' sudden appearance.
[CAP] I CAME OUT HERE AGAIN TA MAKE REPARATIONS WIT' THEM DERN UGLY CRITTERS WHO DONE KILLED MUH FAMILY.
[CAP] JUAN, TOO, FER TAKIN' A PART UH HIS BODY.
[CAP] TIME TA SEND THESE HOWLERS BACK TO THE LIFE-STEALIN' DEVIL THAT RAISED 'EM UP OUTTA THE GRASS, FRESH WITH MUH BOOT MARKS UP AN' DOWN THEIR BACKSIDES TA SHOW THAT EVIL BASTARD WHAT HAPPENS TA FOLK THAT CROSSES JACK WEBSTER.
[TITLE & CREDITS] HOWLERS
PAGE THREE.
P1. JACK draws one of the pistols on his hip and shoots a werewolf springing on a defenseless, frightened young woman.
[CAP] JUAN AN' I FOUND EACH OTHER THROUGH A MUTUAL ACQUAINTANCE… UH MAN WHO HAD HIMSELF A VESTED INT'REST IN THE FINDIN' AN' EXTERMINATION UH THE PROWLIN' BEASTIES.
[CAP] WE WAS ONLY HAPPY TO ACCEPT, GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES.
P2. JACK draws his other pistol and shoots one off the top of a wagon, the barrel of the other still smoking.
[CAP] WE KNOWED EXACTLY WHERE THEY'D BE, TOO, 'CAUSE THEY DON'T MOVE MUCH.
[CAP] DON'T HAVE TO.
P3. Large: JACK walks towards us, shooting both pistols at the camera. The corpse of the wolf-man on top of the wagon has fallen near an apathetic JUAN, who continues his unmoving campfire vigil--none of the other creatures appear to take notice of him.
[CAP] THIS HERE GROUP UH SETTLERS SAID THEY'D BE HEADED STRAIGHT THROUGH THE HEART UH THEIR HUNTIN' GROUNDS… SO NATURALLY, ME AN' JUAN HITCHED A RIDE.
[CAP] SAVE UH LIFE OR TWO AN' MAYBE WE'D BE FORGIVEN FER SOME UH WHAT WE DID.
[CAP] SOME UH WHAT WE WERE [/i]GUNNA[/i] DO.
PAGE FOUR.
P1. JACK backs up in front of JUAN, firing both guns in a minor retreat at a beast that's already mid-air, lunging at him. Again, JUAN doesn't seem to notice, eyes distant.
P2. JACK and the wolf both go toppling over into the campfire, carried by the monster's momentum; the pot of chili formerly suspended by a tripod goes spilling over into the air, a trail of beans flying after it.
P3. Close-up: JACK and the wolf-man in the middle of the inferno. our hero on his back as the wolf snaps his jaws, only to have them caught by the ire-filled cowboy.
PAGE FIVE.
P1. The two combatants dive out of the fire, flames rolling from their bodies as they break from combat, their clothes aflame and kicking burning embers into the air.
P2. The werewolf writhes in agony, stirring up dust as it tries to put itself out.
P3. Angle on.
P4.Angle on.
P5. JACK on the grass, facing away from us as he crawls on his hands and knees towards the recovering werewolf, back and trousers still alight.
PAGE SIX.
P1. Large: A flaming JACK plunges his fist into the creature's chest and pulls out its still-beating heart. JACK'S eyes have glossed over, turned crimson as a set of vampiric fangs sprout where his upper canines used to be; his skin burns as well, turning ashen and black where it's not outright melting his skin… But JACK doesn't seem to care, too caught up in the bloodlust and excitement of the kill to care.
P2. VAMPIRE JACK looks back over his shoulder at the final werewolf retreating back out into the prairie; his fangs are still bared, bloodthirsty, and the fire consuming him has apparently gone out. Wisps of smoke drift upward off his shoulders and back.
P3. The last werewolf sprints through thigh-high grass, running at the camera, desperate to get away but it's apparent that it's not fast enough. VAMPIRE JACK is leaping at him from behind, arms outstretched and bloody fingers working, ready to grab.
PAGE SEVEN.
P1. Tall: Thin: VAMPIRE JACK lands on the creature's back, throwing them both into the grass and weeds.
P2. Tall: Wide: Bug's eye view: VAMPIRE JACK has a hand around the werewolf's throat, the other balled up into a fist above his head, preparing to come striking down. Anger devours him.
[JACK] YOU TELL YER MAKER, VARMINT… YOU TELL 'IM OL' JACK WEBSTER'S ON 'IS WAY TA HELL TA SETTLE THE SCORE!
[WOLF, weakly] PLEASE… DON'T…
P3. Large: The wolf begins to revert to human form, revealing the face of a young boy who looks astonishingly like JACK, whose fist still hangs in the air, recoils in horror.
[WOLF, weakly] DON'T KILL ME, DAD.
[JACK, whisper] NO…!
PAGE EIGHT.
P1. The half-reverted wolf stands, looming above the crouched, trembling body of VAMPIRE JACK. The creature looks suspiciously like it might take advantage of JACK'S sudden weakness and kill him.
[JACK, whisper] NO, NO… AIN'T RIGHT.
[JACK, whisper] I SAW YOU DIE!
P2. That is, if there wasn't a huge bullet hole in the wolf-creature's head. VAMPIRE JACK falls to the grass, looking up at the now-dead beast. In the foreground, ONE-EYED JUAN'S hand is wrapped around his revolver, barrel still smoking.
[JUAN] YOU DID SEE 'IM DIE, JACK.
P3. VAMPIRE JACK'S eyes narrow as JUAN lowers his weapon.
[JUAN] DAMN THING WAS A SHAPESHIFTER, REMEMBER…?
[JUAN] IT WAS ONLY FOOLIN' WITH YER HEAD.
[JACK, whisper] NO.
PAGE NINE.
P1. VAMPIRE JACK leaps for JUAN, ready to kill; JUAN takes a step back, throwing his off-hand up into the air.
[JACK, yell] YOU KILLED MAH SON!
P2. JUAN grabs VAMPIRE JACK by the shirt and uses his momentum to fling him into one of the covered wagons several yards away, a curious display of power that--up until this moment--we didn't think him capable of. JACK goes right through the wood.
P3. Close-up: VAMPIRE JACK crawls out of the splintered hole, glaring at JUAN with fierce, glowing eyes. He looks to be growling, uncontrollable rage having taken completely over.
[JUAN, op] YER SON'S BEEN DEAD FOR A HUNDRED YEARS.
[JUAN, op] THAT ONE SAW IT IN YER MIND AND WAS USIN' IT AGAINST YOU!
P4. VAMPIRE JACK flies towards JUAN, aiming to kill.
[JACK, yell] LIES!
PAGE TEN.
P1. Splash: JUAN stands over VAMPIRE JACK'S corpse, a sizeable hole in his chest where his heart used to be; JUAN looks remorseful, head down and pistol smoking at his side. A small book with the word JOURNAL printed on the cover has fallen out of JACK'S pocket into the grass beside him.
[CAP] JUAN GAVE ME THE POWER TA AVENGE MAH FAMILY.
[CAP] AN', THOUGH I'LL NEVER SEE 'EM AGAIN IN HEAVEN, IN MAH HEART I KNOWED I DONE THE RIGHT THING… I KNOWED I DONE WHAT ANY MAN WORTH 'IS SALT WOULDA DONE.
[CAP] I JUS' WISH IT DIDN' HAVE TA COME TA THIS.
[JUAN] I'M SORRY, JACK.
[CAP] END.
If they like this one better than the others, it'll get the whole treatment.
PROJECT: PENCILJACK FUSION -- WESTERN HORROR SUBMISSION
TITLE: HOWLERS
AUTHOR: JEREMIAH ALLAN
CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS
1.) JACK WEBSTER: Thirty-something-year-old drifter, typical American cowboy apparel who never takes off his dead wife's scarf; Jack has a pistol holstered on each hip with an ammo belt to match; his features are rugged, overcome with stubble though not a full beard.
2.) ONE-EYED JUAN: An older Mexican man into his fifties, Juan doesn't bother wearing a patch to cover the multiple slasher marks responsible for the loss of his eye; he is dressed in a traditional Mexican poncho and sombrero with a shotgun strapped across his back.
PAGE ONE.
P1. Night is come; bright stars shine in the sky above a circle of covered wagons camped up until morning. There's a fire lit in the center of the ring, a trail of smoke and embers drifting up through the thermal drafts.
[CAP] 1862.
[CAP] OUT HERE, THERE'S A WHOLE LOTTA NOCTURNAL MONSTERS THOSE CITY FOLK BACK EAST AIN'T EVER SEEN.
[CAP] AIN'T NEVER GUNNA SEE 'EM, NEITHER.
[CAP] KINDA SPOOKS A FELLAH RUNS ACROSS IN THIS HERE NEW STATE UH KANSAS AIN'T THE KIND TA BE SEEN… NOT LESS'N THEY WANNA BE.
P2. JACK WEBSTER hunched over on a log in front of the camp's fire with a bowl of chili in one hand, a spoon in the other despite his lips being so close to the bowl that he might as well be drinking it, anyway. He looks down into the bowl, paying no mind to anything but himself.
[CAP] WAY I FIGGER, THERE'S PROB'LY ONLY TWO HOMBRES IN THIS WHOLE COUNTRY WHO'VE ACTUALLY WITNESSED WHAT THESE WESTERN NIGHTS TRULY HAVE TA OFFER.
[CAP] I'M ONE UH THE TWO.
P3. ONE-EYED JUAN sits on his saddle-bags, elbows on his knees with a bowl of chili in hand, as well. The spoon inside the bowl, however, stays where it's at, leaning against the side; it seems that he has no interest in food, instead staring into the blaze.
[CAP] OL' JUAN OVER THERE'S THE OTHER.
[CAP] TOUGHEST SON OF A GUN I EVER DID MEET, AN' MEANER'N A SACK UH HUNGRY RATTLERS… LIKELY ON ACCOUNT UH THAT MISSIN' EYE.
[CAP] LEAST HE'S STILL GOT ONE.
P4. An old-fashioned photograph of a man (JACK), his wife and son sits beside JACK on the log as he eats. In the picture, they're all dressed in formal--almost regal--attire; only the woman and the boy are smiling.
[CAP] ME, I MAY GOT MUH GAWD-GIVEN SIGHT BUT I'D TRADE IT ALL IN A HEARTBEAT TA HAVE BACK WHAT'S IN THIS BEAT-UP OL' PHOTOGRAPH.
PAGE TWO.
P1. Wide: JACK turns his head, looking off into the distance at the source of the howl.
[CAP] THEY SAY THAT THE LAWD GIVETH AN' THE LAWD TAKETH AWAY…?
[CAP] THAT MAY BE TRUE BUT THAT DON'T MEAN IT STILL DON'T HURT SOME.
[SFX, trailing off] AWOOOOOOOOOOO.
P2. Large: JACK stands, an angry expression overtaking his face as his fists clench at his sides; the bowl of chili drops to the ground, spilling as it falls near the campfire. All around the inside of the circled wagons, giant werewolves in tattered human clothing terrorize the settlers--chasing or pouncing on them and ripping them to shreds; JUAN still sits, staring into the fire; he's apparently unfazed by the creatures' sudden appearance.
[CAP] I CAME OUT HERE AGAIN TA MAKE REPARATIONS WIT' THEM DERN UGLY CRITTERS WHO DONE KILLED MUH FAMILY.
[CAP] JUAN, TOO, FER TAKIN' A PART UH HIS BODY.
[CAP] TIME TA SEND THESE HOWLERS BACK TO THE LIFE-STEALIN' DEVIL THAT RAISED 'EM UP OUTTA THE GRASS, FRESH WITH MUH BOOT MARKS UP AN' DOWN THEIR BACKSIDES TA SHOW THAT EVIL BASTARD WHAT HAPPENS TA FOLK THAT CROSSES JACK WEBSTER.
[TITLE & CREDITS] HOWLERS
PAGE THREE.
P1. JACK draws one of the pistols on his hip and shoots a werewolf springing on a defenseless, frightened young woman.
[CAP] JUAN AN' I FOUND EACH OTHER THROUGH A MUTUAL ACQUAINTANCE… UH MAN WHO HAD HIMSELF A VESTED INT'REST IN THE FINDIN' AN' EXTERMINATION UH THE PROWLIN' BEASTIES.
[CAP] WE WAS ONLY HAPPY TO ACCEPT, GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES.
P2. JACK draws his other pistol and shoots one off the top of a wagon, the barrel of the other still smoking.
[CAP] WE KNOWED EXACTLY WHERE THEY'D BE, TOO, 'CAUSE THEY DON'T MOVE MUCH.
[CAP] DON'T HAVE TO.
P3. Large: JACK walks towards us, shooting both pistols at the camera. The corpse of the wolf-man on top of the wagon has fallen near an apathetic JUAN, who continues his unmoving campfire vigil--none of the other creatures appear to take notice of him.
[CAP] THIS HERE GROUP UH SETTLERS SAID THEY'D BE HEADED STRAIGHT THROUGH THE HEART UH THEIR HUNTIN' GROUNDS… SO NATURALLY, ME AN' JUAN HITCHED A RIDE.
[CAP] SAVE UH LIFE OR TWO AN' MAYBE WE'D BE FORGIVEN FER SOME UH WHAT WE DID.
[CAP] SOME UH WHAT WE WERE [/i]GUNNA[/i] DO.
PAGE FOUR.
P1. JACK backs up in front of JUAN, firing both guns in a minor retreat at a beast that's already mid-air, lunging at him. Again, JUAN doesn't seem to notice, eyes distant.
P2. JACK and the wolf both go toppling over into the campfire, carried by the monster's momentum; the pot of chili formerly suspended by a tripod goes spilling over into the air, a trail of beans flying after it.
P3. Close-up: JACK and the wolf-man in the middle of the inferno. our hero on his back as the wolf snaps his jaws, only to have them caught by the ire-filled cowboy.
PAGE FIVE.
P1. The two combatants dive out of the fire, flames rolling from their bodies as they break from combat, their clothes aflame and kicking burning embers into the air.
P2. The werewolf writhes in agony, stirring up dust as it tries to put itself out.
P3. Angle on.
P4.Angle on.
P5. JACK on the grass, facing away from us as he crawls on his hands and knees towards the recovering werewolf, back and trousers still alight.
PAGE SIX.
P1. Large: A flaming JACK plunges his fist into the creature's chest and pulls out its still-beating heart. JACK'S eyes have glossed over, turned crimson as a set of vampiric fangs sprout where his upper canines used to be; his skin burns as well, turning ashen and black where it's not outright melting his skin… But JACK doesn't seem to care, too caught up in the bloodlust and excitement of the kill to care.
P2. VAMPIRE JACK looks back over his shoulder at the final werewolf retreating back out into the prairie; his fangs are still bared, bloodthirsty, and the fire consuming him has apparently gone out. Wisps of smoke drift upward off his shoulders and back.
P3. The last werewolf sprints through thigh-high grass, running at the camera, desperate to get away but it's apparent that it's not fast enough. VAMPIRE JACK is leaping at him from behind, arms outstretched and bloody fingers working, ready to grab.
PAGE SEVEN.
P1. Tall: Thin: VAMPIRE JACK lands on the creature's back, throwing them both into the grass and weeds.
P2. Tall: Wide: Bug's eye view: VAMPIRE JACK has a hand around the werewolf's throat, the other balled up into a fist above his head, preparing to come striking down. Anger devours him.
[JACK] YOU TELL YER MAKER, VARMINT… YOU TELL 'IM OL' JACK WEBSTER'S ON 'IS WAY TA HELL TA SETTLE THE SCORE!
[WOLF, weakly] PLEASE… DON'T…
P3. Large: The wolf begins to revert to human form, revealing the face of a young boy who looks astonishingly like JACK, whose fist still hangs in the air, recoils in horror.
[WOLF, weakly] DON'T KILL ME, DAD.
[JACK, whisper] NO…!
PAGE EIGHT.
P1. The half-reverted wolf stands, looming above the crouched, trembling body of VAMPIRE JACK. The creature looks suspiciously like it might take advantage of JACK'S sudden weakness and kill him.
[JACK, whisper] NO, NO… AIN'T RIGHT.
[JACK, whisper] I SAW YOU DIE!
P2. That is, if there wasn't a huge bullet hole in the wolf-creature's head. VAMPIRE JACK falls to the grass, looking up at the now-dead beast. In the foreground, ONE-EYED JUAN'S hand is wrapped around his revolver, barrel still smoking.
[JUAN] YOU DID SEE 'IM DIE, JACK.
P3. VAMPIRE JACK'S eyes narrow as JUAN lowers his weapon.
[JUAN] DAMN THING WAS A SHAPESHIFTER, REMEMBER…?
[JUAN] IT WAS ONLY FOOLIN' WITH YER HEAD.
[JACK, whisper] NO.
PAGE NINE.
P1. VAMPIRE JACK leaps for JUAN, ready to kill; JUAN takes a step back, throwing his off-hand up into the air.
[JACK, yell] YOU KILLED MAH SON!
P2. JUAN grabs VAMPIRE JACK by the shirt and uses his momentum to fling him into one of the covered wagons several yards away, a curious display of power that--up until this moment--we didn't think him capable of. JACK goes right through the wood.
P3. Close-up: VAMPIRE JACK crawls out of the splintered hole, glaring at JUAN with fierce, glowing eyes. He looks to be growling, uncontrollable rage having taken completely over.
[JUAN, op] YER SON'S BEEN DEAD FOR A HUNDRED YEARS.
[JUAN, op] THAT ONE SAW IT IN YER MIND AND WAS USIN' IT AGAINST YOU!
P4. VAMPIRE JACK flies towards JUAN, aiming to kill.
[JACK, yell] LIES!
PAGE TEN.
P1. Splash: JUAN stands over VAMPIRE JACK'S corpse, a sizeable hole in his chest where his heart used to be; JUAN looks remorseful, head down and pistol smoking at his side. A small book with the word JOURNAL printed on the cover has fallen out of JACK'S pocket into the grass beside him.
[CAP] JUAN GAVE ME THE POWER TA AVENGE MAH FAMILY.
[CAP] AN', THOUGH I'LL NEVER SEE 'EM AGAIN IN HEAVEN, IN MAH HEART I KNOWED I DONE THE RIGHT THING… I KNOWED I DONE WHAT ANY MAN WORTH 'IS SALT WOULDA DONE.
[CAP] I JUS' WISH IT DIDN' HAVE TA COME TA THIS.
[JUAN] I'M SORRY, JACK.
[CAP] END.