It Will Always Find You

FADE IN:

INT. ABANDONED TIN MINES - SECRET UNDERGROUND ROOM - NIGHT

With a SLAM, a MAN shuts the the heavy, metallic door, his sweaty, gloved fingers fumbling the lock mechanism in desperation. He is handsome, tall, and is 29. Blots of blood from tonight's victim decorate the plastic, white sheet he wears over his clothes. A small empty pistol hangs from a hostler. This is ARNOLD.

With a satisfactory click, the door locked shut. Arnold slides down the door, temporary relief flooding throughout him. Immediately, the overhead lights light up the room in a stale lighting, revealing a small room. The only thing in the room is a long, dusty cabinet in the middle of the far wall. Suddenly, on the other side of the door, there is a deafening, meaty THUCK, reminding Arnold of the situation he currently finds himself.

Low chuckles can be heard through the door as if they are a multiple of people just beyond the door.

CREATURE (O.S)

(In a multitude of the voices of all

of Arnold's victims)

Well, isn't this ironic?... Usually it

is reversed. You chase them until they

find themselves backed into some kind

of corner. When you come in for the

kill, in desperation, they would

always throw up some kind of barrier

in a... how did you describe it...

(switched its voice to VICTIM 1#, who

attempted to save herself by barricade

herself in a dead-end room, unaware

that Arnold was already in the room )

Oh yeah. I remember. A pathetic

attempt to prevent the inevitable.

Arnold's breath hitched at the sound of victim 1#'s voice. Memories of their encounter flashed in his mind as he slowly backed away from the door.

CREATURE (O.S)

(switches back the multitude of

voices)

So stop prevent the inevitable and

open the door.

ARNOLD

No. No. No. NonononoNOOOOO!

He slowly peels off one of his gloves.

This... this is not happening! This...

this is not how the night was suppose

to end! I -- I don't deserve this!

With his now free hand, he nervously runs his fingers through his jet black hair while preventing the peeled glove from getting in contact with any part of his body.

ARNOLD

I never did anything wrong! I helped

them. Saved them. Because of me, they

were able to escape their suffering.

Because of me, they are in a better

place. Because of me. ME!

He puts his glove back on carefully.

CREATURE (O.S)

Helped them?... Saved them?... I fail

to see how killing them...

(switch its voice to VICTIM 2#. Victim

2# was a 10 year boy who was

struggling with cancer. The hospital

did manage to find a reliable

treatment for him, but he never got

the chance to go through with it.)

robbing them of their lives...

(switch to VICTIM 3#'s voice. Victim

3# was a 21 year college student who

was on his way to get his dream job.)

taking away their futures away...

(switch back to multitude)

helped or saved them. Also, isn't

murder wrong? Immoral even? No matter

what your reasons are?

ARNOLD

Immoral? Wrong?

(smirks slightly)

Those words are so subjective. Their

meanings change like the direction of

the wind. Ask one person what they

means and they will said one thing.

Ask another and they will said

something completely different. In my

book, the meaning of immoral... the

meaning of wrong... is not doing

everything in your power to help those

who are suffering. Not having the

balls to help them in any way they

can. Through death, I helped them. I

gave them mercy. They are no longer

suffering. They are free from their

torturers. Besides, they all desired

death anyways. Thought of ways to end

it all. All I did was speed up the

process.

The creature laughs darkly.

CREATURE (O.S)

Humans are so strange. So stupid. Your

kind comes up with the most foolish

excuses to justify your crimes. But,

crime is crime and there are debts to

be payed. Now open the door and pay

your debt.

Arnold continues to back away from the door.

ARNOLD

Never! You are wrong... you... you...

Arnold's back SMACK against the cabinet. A thought just occurred to him. A thought that should have come earlier. Better late than never.

ARNOLD

... what are you and why do you even

care?

CREATURE (O.S)

(switch to VICTIM 4#'s voice)

You don't remember me?

(switch to VICTIM 5#'s voice)

Or me?

(switch VICTIM 6#'s voice.)

You can't possible forgot about me.

You strangled me, chop off my head,

and hid my remains within the deeps

cave within the mines. Don't you

remember?

ARNOLD

You know what I mean! What are you?

And what is your deal?

CREATURE (O.S)

I am...

On the other side of the door, there is shuffling of massive, fleshy feet. The shuffling fades in the direction away from the door a few seconds later. For a moment, Arnold stays where he is, holding his breath as he stains his ears to listen to the sounds around him. Hesitantly, Arnold peels himself off the cabinet and takes a step towards the door. Another step. Another. Behind Arnold, one of the cabinet doors starts to open. A translucent white, fleshy claw silently comes peeks out of the cabinet. Before Arnold can take another step, the hand latches itself to Arnold's waist. Arnold freezes. A look of panic and horror flashes on Arnold as he slowly cast his eyes on the hand.

CREATURE (O.S)

Your guilt. And it is my responsible

to condemn you of your crimes.

With a jerk, the hand roughly pulls Arnold into the cabinet. Arnold doesn't fight back nor scream in terror. He is silent and still. Flashes of memories of his murders, of his victims flashes through his mind.

ARNOLD

(to himself)

Where did I go wrong?

He disappears into the cabinet. Another claw comes out the cabinet and with two of its nails, it slams the cabinet doors shut.

FADE OUT:

THE END