Sarah is scared

The following dialogue takes place in the basement of an

abandoned Victorian estate. **Elias** is a local urban

explorer; **Sarah** is his sister, who is only there because

she didn’t want him going alone. The air is thick with the

scent of wet copper and old newsprint.

**Sarah:** (Whispering) Elias, stop.

Look at the dust on the floor. **Elias:** I see it, Sarah.

It’s just dust. This place has been sealed since the

seventies. **Sarah:** No, look at the *path* in the dust.

Something heavy was dragged from the stairs to that door.

And there are no return tracks. **Elias:** Probably a

squatter moving a mattress. Or a stray animal.

**Sarah:** A stray animal doesn't lock a deadbolt from the

*outside* after it enters a room. **Elias:** (Pausing,

his flashlight flickering) Okay, that’s… structurally

odd. But the bolt is rusted through.

Look, I’m just going to peek inside.

We need the footage for the channel or this whole trip was

a waste of gas. **Sarah:** (Grabbing his sleeve) The light

is wrong, Elias. **Elias:** What are you talking about?

**Sarah:** Look at your shadow on the wall.

It’s not following you. **Elias:** (Laughs nervously)

It’s the angle of the— (He stops. He moves his arm quickly

to the left. The shadow on the brick wall lags by a full

second, slowly raising its arm long after Elias has already

dropped his.) **Sarah:** We’re leaving.

Right now. **Elias:** I… I can’t move my feet.

Sarah, I’m serious. It feels like the floor is made of

magnets. My boots are stuck. **Sarah:** (Shouting)

Pull your feet out of your shoes then!

Just get out! **Elias:** (His voice dropping to a flat,

hollow drone) Sarah? **Sarah:** What?!

**Elias:** Why are you standing behind me?

**Sarah:** (Freezing) I’m… I’m three feet in front of you,

Elias. I’m looking right at your face.

**Elias:** (Eyes widening, staring at the darkness over

Sarah's shoulder) Then who is whispering into my ear?

It’s… it’s telling me that it remembers the way our mother

smelled. **Sarah:** (Backing away slowly) Elias, don't joke.

That’s not funny. **Elias:** It says it’s been waiting

in the insulation. It says the pipes aren't filled with

water. It says they’re filled with— **(A sudden, wet *thud*

echoes from the ceiling above them. A dark, viscous liquid

begins to drip onto Elias’s shoulder.

He doesn't flinch.)** **Sarah:** Elias, run!

Move! **Elias:** (Still staring at the empty air behind

her) It’s not a squatter, Sarah. It’s a collection.

**Sarah:** What are you talking about?!

**Elias:** (Smiling, though his eyes are tearing up) All the

people who came looking for the footage before us.