House on Haunted Hill Page #9

BAM! The windows being sealed off by heavy IRON PLATES

slamming into place.

CUT TO:

INT. GRAND FOYER

BAM! The front door being likewise sealed by a descending

IRON PLATE -- nearly decapitating Pritchett.

PRITCHETT:

You can't do this to me!

INT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS (NOTE: TBA)

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Every window, door, and portal of

any kind in the house likewise being slammed-sealed shut.

CUT TO:

INT. MAIN SALON

-- where everybody stands silent, breathless, and not a

little afraid, as the sound of SLAMMING IRON is heard echoing

everywhere in the distance.

CUT TO:

INT. GRAND FOYER

Pritchett making a literal last dive for the one window in

the foyer that is still partially unsealed, its iron plate

closing fast --

PRITCHETT:

-- NOOOOOOOO!!! --

-- BAM! The ancient LEVERS smashing down all the way to the

concrete floor:
mission completed.

CUT TO:

INT. MAIN SALON

That final BAM! resounding in the Main Salon. And then

silence.

MELISSA:

Now that is enter-f***ing-

tainment!

Eddie Moses tries to yank up one of the plates -- all he gets

for his efforts is two handfuls of rust.

EDDIE:

This thing's going nowhere.

BLACKBURN:

If this is someone's idea of a

joke --

-- an agonized SCREAM in response; it's coming from the

Foyer --

PRICE:

-- Pritchett's not laughing.

CUT TO:

INT. GRAND FOYER

Price & Guests entering and greeted by the sight of:

Watson Pritchett - Hair wild, clothes torn, SCREAMING as he

tries to pry the cast-iron plate off the Foyer window with

his bare hands --

PRITCHETT:

-- NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! --

-- he's ripping his fingernails off, blood coursing down his

arms. PRICE runs to him, yanks him from the window and to the

floor.

PRICE:

Pritchett!!

Pritchett stops screaming, looks up at Price in utter terror.

PRICE:

Blackburn! His hands, do something!

Blackburn races over, takes one look. Yells to Sara:

BLACKBURN:

Bottle of vodka on the sideboard:

get it!

She races into the other room. Blackburn takes his

handkerchief and puts it on Pritchett's wounds. Pritchett

doesn't so much as whimper, keeps staring at Price. In a

daze:

PRICE:

Pritchett, what the hell just

happened here?

Pritchett looks up at him, eyes not quite focused.

PRITCHETT:

Lockdown.

Sara dashes back in with the bottle of vodka.

SARA:

What does that mean?

Blackburn takes the liquor and begins cleaning/disinfecting

Pritchett's wounds.

PRITCHETT:

A mechanism. From the old Asylum. For

Emergencies. Sealed the whole place

shut. Top to bottom. That's how come

they all burned to death in '31. Dr.

Vannacutt threw the switch. If he was

gonna die, they all were gonna die,

and so they were toast.

MELISSA:

No wonder they're still pissed off.

PRITCHETT:

The only ones who survived were five of

Vannacutt's staff butchers.

BLACKBURN:

Why in God's name wasn't this thing

removed years ago??

PRITCHETT:

It was on my Dad's list of "things

to do." But the House did him first.

EDDIE:

You said that was an accident.

PRITCHETT:

I lied. The House is alive and

we're all gonna die.

BLACKBURN:

Oh, for chrissake --

SARA:

-- uh, excuse me, just one quick

question? How long before this damn

thing unseals itself?

PRITCHETT:

Don't know that it does.

SARA:

Well, then, how 'bout maybe we

call someone?

PRITCHETT:

Hasn't been a telephone in this

House in over 60 years.

Blackburn, Price and Melissa Marr all chime in unintentional

unison:

BLACKBURN/PRICE/MELISSA

I've got my cellular.

SARA:

Well, flip a coin and somebody dial 911!

PRITCHETT:

Won't do any good.

SARA:

Why not?

And then, simultaneously, we hear the same beep-beep-beep

from the three cellular phones and see the same flashing

message on their LED screens: "No Service - No Service - No

Service."

PRICE:

Must be those plates -- interfering

with the signal somehow.

PRITCHETT:

Not the plates:
the House. Why is no one

listening to me?? It's alive! And once

it's made up its mind, it won't let

anything out.

EDDIE:

So, what? You're saying we're stuck

here the rest of our lives?

PRITCHETT:

A cleaning crew's supposed to arrive

at 9:
30 tomorrow morning -- I think

the power of the house fades at dawn.

EDDIE:

-- well, let's hear it for small

miracles --

PRITCHETT:

-- but I imagine we'll all be mutilated

beyond recognition by then.

MELISSA:

Goodbye, bad times -- hello, Prime Time!

She starts shooting tape again -- everything and everybody.

SARA:

There is something seriously screwed-up

going on here, and I don't believe it's

about ghosts --

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