Hellraiser: Hellworld Page #4

You have to believe me!

It's not happening!

Chelsea, it's not real!

Chelsea!

Jake!

Chelsea.

It's okay.

Listen, Chelsea.

This whole Hellworld thing

has been one big trap.

We've been brought here

for some reason.

I don't know why, but...

Jake.

It's Adam's dad.

What?

No.

It can't be.

It's Adam's dad, Jake.

It can't be.

No, it is.

Do you want to stick around

for any more surprises?

Let's go!

Leaving so soon,

without even saying goodbye?

Goodbye.

A**hole.

Damn!

Go, Chelse.

Let's get out of here!

Let's go!

Move!

Oh, God!

Let's go!

Go!

No.

This way.

Boo.

What is it, Jake?

What is it?

It's us.

You ought to

pat yourself on the back, Jake.

Everything worked out

just like you said it would.

No.

I had nothing to do with this.

No, no, no, no.

I got to give credit

where credit's due.

The rest of them, I knew,

would respond

to a private-party invitation.

But you I wasn't sure about.

No.

I had to lure you out.

And I found you, Jake,

on the Internet.

In the Hellworld chat room.

You did it all for me.

Oh, the things a young man

will tell a prospective lover.

The myth of LeMarchand.

The puzzle box.

Hellworld.

How the game itself would be

the perfect weapon

to do everybody in.

I take my hat off to you.

I couldn't have done it

without you, Jake.

You couldn't have done this.

Oh, yes, I could.

Call it poetic justice for

the people that buried my son.

You sick son of a b*tch!

You were never even there

for your own son!

Your son spent his life

waiting for a father

who never came home!

You didn't even go

to his f***ing funeral!

That kid took 16 years

of loneliness to his grave.

And now you want to come back

and get revenge on us?

We were the only family

Adam ever had.

You still think you have

a fighting chance, don't you?

No! No!

F***!

Get me out!

Chelsea!

Let me out!

Chelsea!

- Can you hear me?

- Jake!

Chelsea! Let me out!

Let me out!

Oh, my God!

I can practically smell

the terror

coursing through your veins.

Why?

Why did you do this?

Revenge.

You and your friends

were right all along.

Hellworld never really

even existed.

It was in your mind

the whole time.

Don't!

Even this very moment.

You believe me now, don't you?

You and your friends have been

six feet under since this began.

Sodium amytal is a drug that

induces a highly impressionable,

trancelike euphoria.

It can be taken in every

which way you can imagine.

No!

You can inhale it.

You can touch it.

- Ingest it.

- No! Please.

You and your friend Jake

were reluctant

to sample my free gifts.

F***!

I had to take you by force.

Chelsea!

Once you were drugged,

you were under my spell.

I buried you.

Each in separate coffins

with cellphone at hand.

With ventilation

so you wouldn't run out of air

and miss out on all that

sweet suffering.

It was through these cellphones

I could communicate

subliminal suggestions.

Your own fertile imaginations

did the rest.

Chelsea!

There were freak-outs,

confessions, negotiations,

orgasms, surrenders.

Your own guilt-ridden conscience

even threw Adam in there.

Chelsea.

What a pleasant surprise

that was.

It was all so exhausting.

I barely had enough energy

to go back and enjoy myself

at the party.

I figured, "Why not?

Why not enjoy myself?"

There were a few unexpected

casualties along the way.

Allison severely gouged herself

trying to claw off

her imaginary neck device

and then bled to death.

Derrick's asthma took him out.

And Mike?

He died of good old-fashioned

drop-dead fear.

You know what makes

my revenge so sweet?

I beat you guys

at your own game.

We loved him.

We didn't deserve this.

Tell him that when you see him.

Your dream's over, Chelsea.

No!

Your nightmare is

just about to begin.

No!

See you in hell.

No!

Goodbye, Chelsea.

Come on, guys.

No!

- You're all right.

- No! No!

Let go of me!

- Get off!

- You're okay.

- It's all right.

- You're safe.

- Get off me!

- Let's go.

No!

You're safe.

You're safe now.

You're safe!

Stop!

Stop.

- Oh, my God! No!

- Hey.

You don't need to see.

You don't need to see that.

- Come on.

- No!

Come on.

No!

Oh, God!

Jake!

Oh, my God!

Jake, are you okay?

Jake!

Oh.

Wow.

What a party.

We made it, Jake.

We made it out.

Guess I owe you that sunrise.

You're very lucky, you know.

We almost gave up on you.

I don't understand.

You've been missing for days.

And somebody made a call

a little while ago.

We traced the call

to this location.

I'm sorry to say the house owner

cleared out a few days ago.

Covered his tracks

pretty good, too.

Don't worry.

We'll catch him.

He's gone?

But then, how'd you find us?

Who made the call?

Traced the signal

right to this very spot.

Damndest thing.

We'd have never have found you.

Your cellphone was found

up at the house.

Maybe the owner made the call,

but I doubt it.

I don't get it.

Welcome.

Welcome to hell.

This is not happening.

Seeing is believing.

I should've come for you

a long time ago.

Hellworld.

There's no Hellworld.

It doesn't exist.

Your son was quite the prodigy.

He opened the gateway to hell.

But you never believed yourself,

did you?

Got to wake up.

I got to wake up.

I got to wake up.

Wake up!

How's that for a wake-up call?

Chicago.

No.

No. It's too cold.

Miami.

Typical male.

Yeah. Well,

this typical male delivers.

Check it out.

Hello?

Hello?

Hello, Chelsea.

Jake.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes