Wes Craven’s New Nightmare Page #2

CHASE:

It's off.

TERRY:

Funny. It's warm. Like a real hand.

Chuck leans down and peers more closely at it. Goes to poke

it again. But before his finger touches it the clawed steel

hand leaps up and glues itself to his neck. Its gleaming

talons sinking into his throat!

Chuck jerks back. Clawing the thing away. Clutching his

throat as blood spurts from between his fingers.

THE HAND:

smacks back on the table and scrambles out of sight with a

clatter of steel. Into the warren of tools and equipment.

Fast as some spiny creature from a thousand fathoms!

Heather screams. Dylan draws back, pale and frightened as

Chase grabs the remote controller and smashes it. Pulls out

the batteries and flings them away. Every furnace in the

place suddenly ROARS BACK TO LIFE!

CRAVEN (O.S.)

What the hell's going on?! Kill the

effects!

FIRE, SMOKE AND STEAM HOWLING as Chuck crashes blindly into

Chase and both go down. Terry claws cursing through the

jumble atop the toolbench, trying to find where the damn

thing went.

ANGLE ON THE FLOOR - THE CLAW skitters down on one leg of the

bench fast as a wharf rat and attacks Terry's foot, slicing

through his Achilles tendon!

TERRY shrieks and falls hard, and the instant he slams into

the floor, the claw drives straight into his heart! Terry

screams as the claw wheels and scrambles straight for the

sprawl of Chase and Chuck's convulsing body!

CU CHASE:

reacting in horror.

CHASE'S POV TO CHUCK'S BODY as the CLAW APPEARS over the rim

of Chuck's shoulder, inches from Chase's face, spreading its

talons wide!

CHASE:

Heather!

INT. BEDROOM - DAY

Heather convulses in bed. Terror elevated by...

CHASE:

Heather!! Earthquake!!

Chase's already half out of bed, clawing at her.

CHASE (cont'd)

Get in the doorway

DYLAN (O.S.)

Mommmmeee!

That voice jolts her fully awake.

HEATHER:

Dylan!

A framed picture falls with a deafening crash, its glass

shattering, narrowly missing Chase. Heather sprawls out of

the room.

INT. STAIRWELL - CONTINUOUS

HAND-HELD and rough, CAMERA grabbing the action as best it

can. Heather half runs, half braces against bucking walls

while pictures and china shatter. Chase staggering behind

her into

INT. DYLAN'S ROOM - DAY

The child sits upright among his twisted bedclothes staring

at the toys swinging wildly from his ceiling. Then it's

over.

CAMERA STABILIZES, but remains HANDHELD. There has not been

nor will there be any MUSIC CUES.

The house has fallen still. The swimming pool, seen outside

the window, slaps against its walls. There's a weird

ELECTRONIC ULULATION outside, up and down the street, like

spaceships landing. Heather looks at Chase.

CHASE:

Car alarms. You okay?

She nods, scrambles up and lifts Dylan, who's begun to cry.

Hugs him. He's full of jagged energy, soaked with sweat.

CHASE (cont'd)

You okay, chief?

DYLAN:

no.

HEATHER:

(feels his forehead)

You have a fever, sweetie?

Dylan shakes his head. Heather kisses him.

CHASE:

Just an earthquake, Dylan. Every once in

a while we get a few.

HEATHER:

No biggie, really.

Chase rumples the kid's hair. Then Dylan says solemnly.

DYLAN:

Daddy, blood.

Heather follows Dylan's eyes to Chase, to his bloody hand.

Chase notices with a start, grabbing one of Dylan's T-shirts

and wrapping it, saying a bit too quickly.

CHASE:

Nothing, guys, just a scratch.

But it's already been dripping through the cotton.

HEATHER:

Where'd you...get that?

Chase shrugs.

CHASE:

The picture, I guess. When it fell.

It's nothing, really.

He gives her a look, like 'cool it in front of the kid, at

least', and turns.

CHASE (cont'd)

I'll put a bandage on it. Don't worry

about it.

And he goes out. Heather looks at Dylan and he looks at her.

It's hard to say which is more frightened.

INT. KITCHEN/DEN - DAY

Heather, keeping to herself, tries to make order from the

mess in the cabinets. Chase, hand bandaged, brooms broken

crockery until the kettle whistles, then abandons the cleanup

to make instant coffee.

HEATHER:

One of mom's cups got broken.

CHASE:

I'm sorry. At least we're in on piece.

She says nothing. In the living room, the TV NEWSCASTER

drones on about the morning's 5.5 quake, ('...latest of what

Seismologists are calling a swarm').

HEATHER:

Do we have to watch that?

Chase, washing down a fast piece of toast, yawns and blinks.

CHASE:

I thought you turned it on.

He zaps it off. Heather eyes him, then turns on Dylan who's

making a face in his oatmeal. Scary eyes. Gape of mouth.

HEATHER:

Dylan, it's breakfast. Not arts and

crafts

(feels Chase watching)

What?

CHASE:

You get any sleep last night?

HEATHER:

More or less.

(swipes hair from eyes)

Dylan, time to get dressed. I'm late.

DYLAN:

You going away?

HEATHER:

Just for a few hours. Julie'll be with

you.

He sighs, then goes into his room.

INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM - LATER - DAY

The two dress, Heather rather smartly. Chase, in jeans and

sweatshirt, is packing a small overnighter. Chase again

notes Heather's withdrawal.

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