# Hotel Horror



## Staff Deployment (Dec 19, 2013)

ACT I

                    It's a small set on a big stage. It feels
                    claustrophobic and marginalized, at best.

                    NANCY locks her bike to a post outside THE HOTEL,
                    which is made up of a LOBBY, a HALL, and two ROOMS,
                    one of which is obscured by the walls (it's farther
                    back into the stage). NANCY wears overalls, work
                    boots, a BEANIE, and a dirty t-shirt. She is
                    licking her hands clean of pizza. A TOOLBELT hangs
                    from her waist and she dangles a small WRENCH from
                    her finger. She squints against the sunrise (an
                    imagined sunrise, for the set itself is pitch
                    black) and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. Reaching
                    for a cigarette by instinct, she stops herself and
                    instead knocks on the FRONT DOOR of THE HOTEL. No
                    response, so she tries the handle and finds it
                    unlocked. While she enters, she pulls out a HAND
                    WRITTEN NOTE and runs through its details in her
                    head, silently mouthing the instructions to
                    herself.

                    The LOBBY is empty. An analog clock on the wall
                    incorrectly reads midnight. It's broken. On top of
                    the counter is a DINGER and some CRUMPLED BILLS,
                    and behind it is an UNLOCKED CABINET. A small TRASH
                    BIN sits on the floor.

                    NANCY slams her fist on the DINGER but all that
                    comes out is a wet, squelching crack, like a spider
                    slowly crushed under a shoe. She makes a face and
                    looks around furvently.

          NANCY
               Anyone there? I'm here to fix the broken light. In room
               2. Hello?

                    She picks up the BILLS and counts them. She
                    compares them to her HAND WRITTEN NOTE and nods.

          NANCY
               These are for me then.

                    After a moment she realizes nobody is responding
                    and she cautiously heads to the FRONT DOOR. Then
                    she looks at the BILLS one more time, sighs, and
                    turns. She rifles through the UNLOCKED CABINET
                    until she obtains the ROOM KEY.

                    As she leaves the LOBBY and proceeds down the HALL,
                    she checks the numbers on each ROOM. They are
                    clearly marked #1 and #2, although the marking for
                    #2 may be hard to see, due to the angle. #1 is
                    ajar. The inside is pitch black. When she walks
                    past, #1 slams shut. She jumps, hesitates, then
                    ignores it and continues on.

                    #2 is at a right angle to the other room, allowing
                    us to see its internal guts through an invisible
                    wall. The ROOM is bare and economical, furnished
                    only with a perfectly-made BED, a LAMP seated on an
                    END TABLE, and an uncomfortable CHAIR, all squashed
                    into a prohibitively cramped space. The wall
                    holding up the DOOR is solid, but the other two
                    walls are made of BLACK STREAMERS, which billow in
                    a soft wind. Since the rest of the stage is in
                    total darkness, it feels as though this darkness
                    grasps at the room with tiny feelers.

                    NANCY knocks on the door. Immediately the SOFT WIND
                    ceases and the BLACK STREAMERS fall still. Hearing
                    no response, NANCY fumbles with the ROOM KEY until
                    it turns. The DOOR's top hinge seems damaged, so it
                    scrapes along the ground, loud enough to cause her
                    to cringe.

                    She enters the ROOM and idly flicks a hidden light
                    switch on the wall up and down. Nothing.

          NANCY
               Obviously. That's what I'm here for.

                    She fumbles around in the dark, nearly knocking
                    over the LAMP. She follows the LAMP's wire with her
                    fingers, getting down onto her hands and knees. The
                    wire trails out underneath the BLACK STREAMERS. She
                    interacts with them as if they were a solid wall,
                    patting them and feeling around.

                    While she's carelessly exploring the room, the DOOR
                    to #1 slowly opens, soundlessly. A MAN-SIZED
                    FIGURE, crouched underneath a BLACK BLANKET,
                    emerges and slowly waddles towards #2. A small
                    light can be seen shining through the fabric.

                    Simultaneously, the DILAPIDATED GHOUL and MUTILATED
                    GHOUL crawl inhumanly from outside THE HOTEL. They
                    are nothing but shadows at this point. They drag
                    away NANCY'S BIKE and push a BRICK WALL in front of
                    the main door. They slink away into the darkness.

                    Eventually NANCY returns to the LAMP and curls her
                    hand underneath its shade. She jerks her hand back
                    in pain. Red blood trickles down the side of her
                    palm. She licks some of it away self-consciously.

                    She takes off the shade. The bulb is broken.

          NANCY
               That's it?

                    She takes off her BEANIE, revealing longer hair
                    than was first apparent, and carefully unscrews the
                    BROKEN BULB to let the shards land in her hat.
                    Satisfied, she knots up the BEANIE and opens the
                    DOOR.

                    The MAN-SIZED FIGURE awaits her. Her eyes go wide
                    and she stares at the thing for a moment, before
                    winding her hand back to strike with the broken
                    glass. The figure lifts up the blanket to reveal an
                    unwashed but good-looking man in a ragged
                    construction worker's uniform. He holds a
                    FLASHLIGHT. NANCY takes a step back.

                    TOM (that's his name) shines the FLASHLIGHT around.
                    He speaks with frantic concern.

          TOM
               What are you doing?

          NANCY
               My job.

          TOM
               Your job -- oh, you just got here. Just stay with me,
               you'll be fine.

          NANCY
               No thank you.

                    She pushes past him and he rises indignantly.

          TOM
               How long since you came in?

                    She turns around and walks backwards while she
                    talks, twirling her wrench in her hand idly.

          NANCY
               Like five minutes.

          TOM
               And you've gotta realize something's wrong, don't you?
               Doesn't it feel wrong? What do you have in your hat?

          NANCY
                         (holding it up)
               Broken glass.

          TOM
               And that doesn't seem wrong?

          NANCY
               Remember how I almost hit you with this? Still not out
               of the question.

                    She turns back around. She's in the LOBBY. She
                    carefully dumps the contents of her hat into the
                    TRASH BIN, making a pleasant tinkling noise. She
                    feels around the BEANIE, making sure there's no
                    broken glass still stuck in it. She decides not to
                    put it back on and instead shoves it in her TOOL
                    BELT. She pulls out a PEN in return.

                    She sits down on the floor, back leaning against
                    the counter, and scribbles something on the back of
                    her HAND WRITTEN NOTE. She places the NOTE, as well
                    as the BILLS, dutifully on the counter, and the PEN
                    back in her TOOLBELT.

                    Finally, she opens the FRONT DOOR.

                    There is a BRICK WALL soldered into the frame. She
                    takes four steps back and crashes into the wall,
                    desperately grabbing for a handhold.

                    TOM pockets the small FLASHLIGHT, enters the LOBBY,
                    and leans against the wall beside her. His BLACK
                    BLANKET is draped over his shoulders.

          TOM
               That happened to me, too.

          NANCY
               My bike's out there.

          TOM
               You're worried about your bike?

          NANCY
               Why wouldn't I be?


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## OliverGrey (Jan 7, 2014)

Are the lights out the whole time? You did a good job writing descriptive things, but I don't think it could all be done through sound. I'm not sure where this is going, but I think it's a good start. It leaves the watcher/ reader wanted to know what's going on without making them just ask questions. 
Overall I like what you have so far!


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## Staff Deployment (Jan 7, 2014)

"Pitch black" is misleading. It was in reference to the stage, but the set and characters are meant to be visible.

I'm glad you liked it.


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## escorial (Jan 7, 2014)

This was fantastic..descriptive, packed with information to take in and easy to follow..the first section Nancy was brilliant and although it's in scripts format of which I know zero about this for me was alive and real...Loved it SD


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## thepancreas11 (Jan 10, 2014)

I'm up in the air about this piece.

It's a fantastic premise. You've got two complete strangers locked in a house of horrors, and all they did was come to help. I sense a theme coming.... You've already got your characters up on soapboxes, ready to deliver their sermons on the follies of humanity. It's an important thing for a thriller to have, a sense of morality underneath. Hitchcock would be proud. All of his pieces were commentaries on society, albeit as viewed through his cracked looking-glass.

Unfortunately, I think you fall short with the tension needed to make this a success. I understand you're trying to do that by way of the stage design and lighting, but I think you might be on the wrong track. The dialogue should drive the tension, the movement of the characters, little scary snippets that the clever observer will notice and tell all his friends. The clock is one of those things. We know from the very beginning that there's something amiss because the clock is wrong, but I wonder if the audience would know. You say there is no sign of the sunrise in the lighting on the stage, and there is no mention of the time anywhere else. Also, if it's dark in there, will the eye be drawn to this ominous omen? I think not. Then there's Tom snooping around. That part of the scene didn't really jump me out of my boots the way I wanted it to. The big let down here, though, is the way you end it. She's not exactly upset, is she? I don't know, maybe you're trying to make it a comedy or something, but if this is a true Stephen King goose-bumper, that last exchange has to go.

Maybe if I got to see scene 2 I would get a better picture (hint, hint; nudge, nudge). I would love to read on.


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## Charlaux (Jan 11, 2014)

I thought this was great, your stage directions were detailed but not excessive, after a while it stopped reading like a script and I could really visualise the scene. An interesting premise, it's like a combination of a Stephen King novel and a Hitchcock movie, and a bit like a dream. The idea of having things moving around on stage but separate to Nancy is one I really liked, and really offers chance to amp up the menace, and I was going to suggest having more of this perhaps in the other rooms before I remembered that it's just a first scene. 

One nit is, I think, a combination of the title and the set up. Calling it Hotel Horror plants all sorts of genre expectations - which prove pretty accurate. I think if you slotted in a few hints about what has happened, maybe in the lobby (Nancy might not even have to see them, as she does seem like the sensible sort of girl who would actually call it a day and go home if there was something very obviously creepy...), to pose some mysteries, uneasy thoughts and questions at the beginning because at the moment this is very much the pattern of most horror films - go through, gradual build of suspense. I think a few spikes of mystery at the beginning could set this apart.


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## Yfig (Mar 18, 2014)

is furvently = fervently ?
Is the formating a theater one or cinema one ? 
I think "ACT" is for theater and "sequence" for movies ?
"Ajar" isn'it for car doors ? Forgive me if you use it also for houses !

A lot of vocabulary I do not understand ... like 'cringe'  'prohibitively cramped space' 'billow' 'fumbles' ...... a s o 
So I used a translator. I am not fan of translators because they allways make big mistakes ... but ... "what else" would say Georges ?

OK ! so, I red it all. half in english half in french. I was right, the translator makes many errors.

Hum ! Sorry but I did not get fear ! is this a pastiche ?
Or maybe this kind of text (script) is a bit obsolet ? I mean ... too many times done (hope you understand) ?
I personnaly fight for originality, I do not like plagiat or remake. 
That's why you should not take really care of my comments because you may have a very opposite point of vew and I respect it.

I encourage you to continue, to go till the end because my opinion is minor and you will get a huge experience in writing it fully.
Courage !


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## Whosthatboy305 (Sep 19, 2014)

Super good


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## JamesR (Oct 11, 2014)

Hitchcock would be proud. Your script delivers new life into the dying horror-mystery genre. It takes more creativity to get this genre going and you have provided it. I like the eery premise.


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