Supernatural
- TV-14
- Year:
- 2005
- 44 min
- 5,042 Views
OVER BLACK-
LAWRENCE, KANSAS. 1982.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET - NIGHT
A small town American HOME on a small town American street.
We DRIFT UP towards a warm, lighted yellow WINDOW, on the
second floor. As we float closer, we spy inside... a WOMAN.
Standing beside a crib. She holds a TODDLER.
When, suddenly... the window GLASS SHIMMERS. RIPPLES, as if
it were liquid. Just for a moment. Blink and you miss it.
INSIDE THE CRIB. An INFANT BOY, a few months old. SAM.
MARY HARRISON, late 20’s, gently beautiful in a genuine,
maternal way. She leans her 3-year-old son DEAN over the
crib’s edge. Dean kisses the baby’s forehead.
YOUNG DEAN:
‘Night, Sammy.
Now Mary leans over, kisses Sam.
MARY:
Goodnight, love.
Mary carries Dean to the doorway, where her husband JACK
HARRISON, 30, waits. Jack flips off the lights.
JACK:
Sam. You sleep through the night,
and you can have Dean’s room.
Jack leaves the door open a crack.
On Sam. Beat.
Then... the FISHER-PRICE MOBILE, above his crib, begins to
spin, silent, of its own accord.
On the dresser. A TEDDY BEAR CLOCK TICKS, soothing. But
then it abruptly stops. Frozen.
A Casper the Friendly Ghost NIGHTLIGHT flickers...
2.
INT. HOUSE - MASTER BEDROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT
A BABY MONITOR, on a nightstand. (We also see Jack and
Mary’s WEDDING PHOTO-- he’s wearing naval whites.) The
baby’s PIERCING CRIES, through the monitor receiver.
Mary groans awake. Looks over. Jack isn’t in bed. Still
the baby bawls.
INT. HOUSE - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
Mary shuffles down the hall. Opens the nursery door, peers
in. Pitch-black inside. But Mary discerns a FIGURE hunched
over the crib.
MARY:
Jack? Is he hungry?
FIGURE:
Shhhhh.
Mary holds up her hands-- okay, sorry. She turns away.
But when she reaches her bedroom door, she stops. Noticing--
At the other end of the hall... the stairwell. A pale,
dancing, ghostly light. Coming from downstairs. Maryfrowns. What the hell?
She moves toward the shimmering glow. Cautious.
At the stairs now. Bare feet padding down the steps.
Until, finally, Mary reaches the bottom, to see-INT.
Jack. Asleep in his La-Z-Boy. An old movie on the muted TV.
MARY:
Oh my God.
Mary spins, BOLTS up the steps!
Mary BURSTS into the nursery, flips on the light. And
whatever she sees O.S., it causes the color to drain from her
face; her breath to come in short, panicked bursts.
MARY:
(a whisper)
...get away from him...
3.
INT. HOUSE - FAMILY ROOM - NIGHT
Coming from upstairs, Mary’s terrible, ragged SCREAMING!
Jack LUNGES out of his chair-JACK
Mary?!
As Jack takes the steps two at a time, Mary’s screaming
abruptly snuffs out.
Jack explodes into the nursery. Mary’s not there. He moves
up to the crib. The baby’s okay, thank God, though he’s
bawling, inconsolable. Jack holds Sam, confounded-JACK
Mary...?
Jack is about to exit the room, to search for his wife, when
he stops. Sensing something. He turns back, noticing-
INSIDE THE CRIB. Plink. A dime of crimson red appears on
the Sesame Street mattress. Plink. Then another. Another.
They’re drops. Drops coming from above.
Jack looks up at the ceiling. His face twists into equal
parts anguish and terror.
JACK:
...no...oh my God no...
ON THE CEILING. MARY. Impossibly splayed out, as if it were
the floor. Eyes wide open, glassy. Dead.
Jack barely has time to react, before...
Sizzling. BLACK LINES, BURNING THEMSELVES into the wall.
Spiderwebbing. Some horizontal, some vertical. At first, we
don’t realize what it is. But then it takes shape.
A message. Branded into the wall, in charcoal black letters
four feet high-
COMING FOR YOU:
The message smolders and IGNITES. Flames curl the wallpaper.
Spreading fast. A smoke alarm BLARES, piercing.
Outside, in the hallway, Dean begins to push open the nursery
door, crying, terrified.
4.
YOUNG DEAN:
Mommy?! Daddy?!
Snapping to lucidity, Jack carries baby Sam out of the room.
Snatches up Dean with his other arm, before the boy enters.
JACK:
No, Dean. Don’t look, okay? We
gotta go.
Jack darts quickly for the stairs.
Out the front door.
CUT TO:
EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT - FEW MINUTES LATER
An angry BLAZE. Firetrucks. In a few hours, when they
finally extinguish the flames, there won’t be much left.
Jack. Across the street. Holding, comforting his two sons.
TIGHTER. Jack. Watching the house burn. Fire illuminating
his expression, reflecting in his eyes.
His jaw sets in pain and FURY-BLACKOUT.
END OF TEASER:
5.
ACT ONE:
OVER BLACK-
STANFORD UNIVERSITY. PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA. PRESENT DAY.
A BLOODY CORPSE walks, casual, across the quad.
It takes a drag off a Marlboro. And shakes its head at-- SAM
HARRISON, 23, clad in a gray T-shirt and jeans. Sam walks
beside his girlfriend JESSICA, dressed as a sexy nurse.
LUIS:
(the zombie)
...I gotta tell you, Sam, if your
sorry ass was trick or treating myhouse, there’d be no popcorn balls
for you.
SAM:
(gross)
You gave out popcorn balls?
LUIS:
Don’t change the subject. You
could’ve at least gone as the
slutty version of something.
Slutty Dorothy, slutty Alice,
slutty nurse-
JESSICA:
Hey!
LUIS:
I didn’t mean you.
SAM:
Sorry, man, what can I say? Just
never been a big fan of the whole
thing.
LUIS:
What are you, a communist? Who
doesn’t like Halloween?
Sam doesn’t respond... but something flits across his
expression, that the others don’t notice.
Scruffy hang-out. Halloween party. George W. Bush throws
back shots with Bill Clinton and Dracula.
6.
Jessica sits at a tall, round table. Watching Sam and Luis
play darts. Sam THROWS-
JESSICA:
...but Sam, I think it’s crazy.
Luis, tell him he’s crazy.
LUIS:
You’re crazy.
Thwak. Thwak. Thwak. THREE DARTS pierce a DART BOARD.
Dead bulls-eyes, crowding the tiny center.
LUIS:
(dismay at the game)
Dude...
SAM:
I don’t see what the big deal is.
JESSICA:
It’s Thanksgiving. I mean, is
there any holiday you don’t have a
problem with? Why would you work
through Thanksgiving?
SAM:
(playful)
Hmm. Let’s see. Oh yeah-- mycrushing loan debt.
JESSICA:
Ha, ha.
Luis throws his darts. Shitty.
LUIS:
Dammit!
SAM:
Seriously, if I don’t catch up and
clerk my ass off, Judge Carlton’s
gonna slaughter me. And there’s
about twenty other students just
dying to take my place.
JESSICA:
Even he takes off Thanksgiving...
SAM:
It’s not like I have any big plans
or anything.
7.
JESSICA:
(gingerly)
You could always... go home.
SAM:
Yeah, no, that would be a tiny
bit... excruciating.
Sam’s turn again. Another three bulls-eyes. Luis GROANS.
JESSICA:
Why? What is so terrible about
your family?
There’s ground here that Sam doesn’t care to tread. So, as
usual, he turns it into a joke.
SAM:
Nothing. We were just like the
Huxtables. Only with a lot more
shouting and browbeating.
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"Supernatural" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/supernatural_199>.
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