Into The NIght

The Four of Us Are Dying
Chapter 1- Into the Night


Scene 1: Stuck in Here
GAS STATION - NIGHT

Rain relentlessly drums against the rusted canopy of the abandoned gas station, creating
a symphony of solitude in the heart of Old Town St. Peters. The neon sign, once vibrant,
now flickers sporadically, casting ethereal shadows on the flooded asphalt. Michael,
shivering with a damp determination, stumbles through the debris-laden entrance, his
footsteps echoing in the hollow chamber of what once was a hub of activity. The air inside
is thick with the musky scent of gasoline, decaying memories, and the haunting realization
that Emma might be lost within this maze of forgotten dreams.

MICHAEL
(grim determination)
Emma, where are you?

The dim, wavering glow of the failing neon sign reveals a tableau of abandonment.
Shattered glass crunches beneath Michael's worn boots as he navigates through
overturned shelves and remnants of a life interrupted. Cardboard boxes, now swollen with
dampness, seem to mourn the forgotten products they once held. A flicker of light amidst
the wreckage beckons Michael—a feeble shimmer emanating from beneath a pile of
discarded dreams and forsaken hopes. As he approaches, the contours of a flashlight
emerge, a beacon buried beneath the debris, symbolizing a glimmer of hope amidst the
encroaching darkness.

Michael's hands, trembling with a mixture of determination and trepidation, reach for the
flashlight. Its weight in his grasp becomes a tangible reminder of the journey that lies
ahead—a journey into the shadows of Old Town, where the relentless rain serves as a
requiem for the memories yet to be uncovered.

The flashlight, now liberated from its obscure resting place, becomes a symbolic
companion in Michael's quest. Its feeble glow is both a source of reassurance and a
harbinger of revelations yet to unfold. As Michael maneuvers through the remnants of the
gas station, memories begin to intertwine with the rain-soaked atmosphere. Water drips
rhythmically from a leaky ceiling, mirroring the cadence of Michael's footsteps, each drop
echoing a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of time.

In this desolate space, Michael uncovers the first layer of the game's puzzle—a simple yet
profound environmental challenge. Crates, scattered haphazardly, form a makeshift
barricade. To reach the elusive flashlight, Michael must rearrange these fragments of the
past, as if piecing together the shattered remnants of his own memories. The puzzles, though
seemingly mundane, serve as a metaphor for the fragmented reality Michael now navigates—each
solved puzzle a tentative step towards unraveling the mystery of Emma's disappearance.

The flashlight, once obscured, becomes Michael's guiding light, illuminating not only the
physical environment but also the metaphorical shadows that envelop his heart. As he
steps out of the gas station, the rain persists, a relentless companion on this journey into
the heart of grief. The neon sign, now flickering more sporadically, seems to convey a
message—each stuttering pulse an invitation to explore the mysteries that lie ahead in the
haunting streets of Old Town St. Peters. The journey has just begun, and the gas station, a
mere prelude, serves as the threshold to a labyrinth of emotions waiting to be uncovered in
the unfolding darkness.


Scene 2: Salt River Road Unlocked
SALT RIVER ROAD - NIGHT

As Michael ventures deeper, he encounters a locked back door to the gas station—a
formidable barrier standing between him and the enigmatic heart of the town. The
flashlight, now a beacon of both illumination and obscurity, becomes the key to
deciphering cryptic markings that adorn the door. In the interplay of light and shadows,
Michael unravels the clandestine language etched onto the door's surface. The unlocking
mechanism, a symphony of subtle clicks, echoes through the desolate streets—a delicate
dance between the seeker and the mysteries that lie beyond.

The door swings open, revealing the Salt River Road in its spectral grandeur. The town,
once shrouded in ambiguity, now beckons Michael with whispered promises of revelations
and trials. The cobblestone path seems to ripple beneath his footsteps, resonating with the
history that clings to its weathered surface. The buildings, like sentinels of forgotten tales,
stand silent yet watchful, their facades bearing witness to the passage of time.
The Salt River Road, a timeworn artery etched with memories, unfurls before Michael. The
flashlight's beam reveals glimpses of boarded-up windows and facades stained with the
patina of time. Shadows dance on weathered brick walls, each one seemingly concealing
untold tales of bygone days. The narrow path guides Michael, a lone figure traversing the
boundary between the known and the unknown, his silhouette cast against the veiled
backdrop of the town's storied past.

With the flashlight's feeble glow now cutting through the oppressive darkness, Michael
steps onto the narrow path leading to Old Town’s Salt River Road. The air is thick with a
spectral stillness, broken only by the distant echoes of raindrops falling onto forgotten
cobblestones. The town reveals itself reluctantly, as if hesitating to share its secrets with
the lone seeker venturing into its heart.

MICHAEL
(whispering) It’s only been three years since we were last here- what the hell
happened to this place?


As Michael advances, Salt River Road becomes an ever-unfolding tapestry of memory
and melancholy. The door from hence he came scrapes closed, vegetation overtaking it
almost as soon as it does, making it clear that, for now at least, retreat is no longer an
option. The architectural remnants of a forgotten era whisper tales of prosperity and
decline, each step laden with the weight of a bygone narrative. The air itself seems to
carry echoes of laughter that once reverberated through these now-haunted corridors.

The boarded-up windows, like sealed portals to the past, evoke a sense of mystery—an
invitation to delve into the forgotten corners of Old Town. Some bleed light through their
gaps, while others, somehow sensing your arrival, seemingly draw down their own shades,
leaving Michael to wonder who (or what) could possibly be living in the squalor and decay
surrounding him. The flickering streetlights cast elongated shadows, adding an
otherworldly quality to the scene. It's as if the town itself, a dormant entity, yearns for its
stories to be heard, for the seeker to unravel the enigma that binds its cobblestone veins.

Amidst this spectral ambiance, Michael senses an unseen presence - a whisper in the
wind, an indistinct murmur that hints at the town's secrets. The Salt River Road, an artery
of both passage and reflection, leads Michael further into the labyrinth of his own
emotions. Each step becomes a contemplative dance, a progression towards an inevitable
confrontation with the shadows that linger in the town's recesses.

The locked doors of abandoned establishments stand as both barriers and invitations,
prompting Michael to explore the spectral interiors where memories lie dormant. The
narrow path, now a guide through the town's ethereal corridors, hints at the unfolding
chapters of grief yet to be written. As Michael moves forward, he becomes not only a
seeker of Emma but a reluctant archaeologist, unearthing the buried fragments of his own
past in the dimly lit thoroughfares of the town, now a silent witness, awaiting the revelation
of its untold tales in the dance of shadows and the flicker of the flashlight's glow.


Scene 3: Encounter with Theta Nigrum
SALT RIVER ROAD - NIGHT

A spectral chill permeates the air as the oppressive darkness of Old Town St. Peters
coalesces into a haunting silhouette. The wispy, ethereal figure takes form—the Theta
Nigrum, an embodiment of Michael's deepest fears, clad in shadows that seem to defy the
very essence of light. It stands as a manifestation of the suffering that wraps itself around
Michael's consciousness like an impenetrable fog.

MICHAEL
(confused, horrified, afraid) What the fuck is that?!?

The Theta Nigrum, an enigma in itself, hovers ominously before Michael. Its wispy tendrils
reach out, mirroring the insidious tendrils of denial that have entwined themselves around
Michael's consciousness. A sense of dread descends upon the narrow Salt River Road, as
the very air quivers with the weight of unspoken fears.

The dance of shadows takes on a sinister rhythm as the Theta Nigrum lunges forward, a
phantom of despair seeking to devour Michael's every semblance of hope. Combat
becomes an intricate ballet between the feeble beam of Michael's flashlight and the
elusive, shape-shifting entity before him. Each swing of the flashlight reveals the monster's
inhuman flesh, only for it to retreat into the shadows, leaving Michael in a perpetual dance of
pursuit and evasion.

The very nature of the Theta Nigrum challenges Michael's understanding of reality. Its
wispy form, resistant to any permanent defeat, symbolizes the insurmountable nature of
grief—always present, always lurking, and never completely vanquished. In the moments
of combat, the echoes of Emma's name resonate through Michael's mind, a haunting
reminder of the purpose that brought him to this shadowy realm.

The encounter with the Theta Nigrum becomes a relentless exploration of Michael's own
psyche. Each swing of the flashlight becomes a cathartic release, an attempt to dispel the
shadows that cling to the corners of his mind. The monster, undeterred by Michael's
efforts, taunts him with its intangible presence, a ghostly reminder of the emotions he has
yet to confront.

As the battle ensues, the Theta Nigrum draws upon the very fabric of denial and despair, distorting
reality, making Michael question the solidity of the cobblestone beneath his feet and the
authenticity of the feeble light guiding him. The air becomes thick with an otherworldly
tension, a clash between the tangible and the intangible, between the known and the
obscured.

In a moment of revelation, Michael realizes that the Theta Nigrum cannot be eradicated by
force alone. Its wispy form seems to absorb the very essence of the shadows that envelop
this place. The town, a canvas of grief, becomes an accomplice to the relentless dance of
denial and despair. Each defeat, rather than providing closure, heightens the unease,
leaving Michael to grapple with the unsettling notion that the shadows themselves are
alive, pulsating with an energy that transcends the physical realm.

As the combat subsides, the Theta Nigrum retreats into the darkness, leaving behind an
unsettling calm, and a talisman of reality- a cell phone, it’s screen blank, lies in the road,
beckoning Michael to unlock it’s secrets. The narrow Salt River Road, once an avenue of hope, becomes a
battleground—a reflection of the internal strife Michael faces. The flashlight, now a
flickering beacon in the aftermath, casts uncertain shadows on the cobblestone path, each
one a testament to the emotional labyrinth that awaits. The whispers of the Theta Nigrum
linger in the air, a haunting prelude to the trials yet to unfold in Old Town.


Scene 4: Schoolhouse and Smartphone Clues
SCHOOLHOUSE - NIGHT

The schoolhouse, a forsaken bastion of education now swallowed by the shadows, looms
ahead of Michael like a dormant sentinel. The narrow path from the Salt River Road leads
him to its creaking entrance, where memories of laughter and learning are juxtaposed with
the oppressive darkness that now enshrouds its halls.

MICHAEL (wary)
Do you still remember when we first met here?

The door, burdened by the weight of time, groans as Michael pushes it open, revealing an
interior steeped in an eerie calm. The air inside, thick with the residue of forgotten
knowledge, carries an unsettling stillness. Long ago converted to a home, the furniture, disused
and scattered, appears as casualties of a chaotic past. Michael ventures further, guided by the
flickering glow of his flashlight, his footsteps echoing across the timeworn linoleum.

Within the dim confines of the long-abandoned living room, Michael discovers the remnants of a
smartphone charger—a modern relic incongruent with the dated surroundings. The phone's lifeless
screen reflects the ambient gloom, and the realization dawns that this device may be a
conduit to the unraveling mystery of Emma's disappearance.

The smartphone, cold to the touch, becomes a beacon in Michael's quest for answers. As
he navigates through the schoolhouse, the flashlight reveals unfocused images from the past,
long-forgotten memories of a time before this place even existed. Each step forward echoes with the
resonance of distant footsteps, the ghostly remnants of a time when this place was alive
with the chatter of curious minds.

In an adjacent room, Michael encounters the remnants of a makeshift barricade—a futile
attempt to shield against an unseen force. Puzzled, he discovers a passageway leading to
the attic, a space untouched by time's relentless march. The wooden boards, haphazardly
nailed to form a crude ladder, seem to protest his ascent, whispering tales of the secrets
concealed within the forgotten heights.

Ascending to the attic bedroom, Michael is greeted by a tableau frozen in time— a
bedroom chamber suspended between the echoes of joy and the encroaching darkness. After plugging
the phone in to charge on the nightstand, Michael looks around, realizing the attic
was split into two rooms- walking through the partition into the storeroom, the
flashlight reveals a room charred almost to embers by some long ago fire.

Searching through the closet, Michael discovers a box of burnt slides, each one a snapshot of
a life consumed by the flames of grief. Michael cautiously removes each one, revealing images
of laughter, love, and an ordinary life now lost to the shadows.

Digging further, Michael finds what he is looking for- an old slide projector. He gingerly plugs it
into a half-charred outlet in this room, praying that it would not repeat the events that led
to the room's current state. Instead, the projecter whirred to life, waiting anxiously for Michael
to unlock it's secrets.

Flipping through the images, Michael is presented with a series of photos of this very house, long
ago. a figure stands on the porch, unclear but clearly waving. As the pictures advance, the viewer
stutter-steps ever closer to the waving figure, becoming clearer until Michael recognizes the
younger version of his wife.

MICHAEL
(breathless, distraught) How is this possible?

As he looks closer at the image, tracing its distortion across the brick wall, the projector
starts to get louder, it's motor clicking forward to advance the slide, but failing to do so,
over and over. The ticking of the failing machine becomes louder, as the light becomes brighter
and hotter, the celluloid starting to deform, Emma's features running together.

Michael yanks the plug from the wall, to no avail. Nearly leaving the ground, the machine lets
out a loud clunk, as the slide advance finally slams the last slide into place, a closeup
of Emma, her eyes piercingly gray in the sea of desaturated color around her. Suddenly, the
somehow still running projector finally overloads, burning the celluloid image within, soot coating
the lens in darkness, before flaming out when it's fuel had burned to ash.

Scared, Michael stumbles backwards into the bedroom, nearly falling backwards when the cell phone
suddenly announces it's presence with a loud ring.

MICHAEL
(whispering) Hopefully this is someone that can help me.

Thumbing the phone's answer button, Michael hold's the phone tentatively to his ear, listening.
Listening so intently he can hear his own heartbeat, Michael is able to make out a voice, growing
louder with every word, becoming a deafening roar:

INDISTINCT FEMALE VOICE
(distorted, painfully loud) let Me in Your HEEEEAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDDDD

The pitch becomes a needle in his mind, Michael drops the phone as he falls to his knees, his
vision blurring. Outside, a distant, discordant tone rolls across the sky, now deepening to an intense,
blood red portent of danger, and, trembling, Michael looks out the attic window, as the Theta Nigrum seems
to materialize from the nothing, the beam of the streetlight revealing it's sinews willing themselves into
existence from the inky, wavering fog. The vibration of the phone in his hand startles him out of his
desperation at the return of the monster, a notification of a video memory stored in the recesses of
the phone's enclave of secrets.

Unlocking the smartphone, Michael is greeted by a haunting video— a younger Emma,
vibrant and full of life, standing in front of the police station. A disconcerting sense of
displacement washes over him as he grapples with the incongruity of the images before
him. The smartphone, now a digital relic pulsating with clues, becomes a guidepost
leading Michael towards the next layer of the enigma—the police station, a realm of
authority now shadowed by uncertainty.


Scene 5: Smartphone Revelation and Passcode Clues
SCHOOLHOUSE - ATTIC BEDROOM - NIGHT

The attic bedroom, suspended in the sepulchral embrace of time, becomes a sanctuary of
revelation. Michael, clutching the smartphone like a talisman, immerses himself in the
burnt fragments of a life once lived. The box of scorched photographs becomes a portal to
the past, each image etched with the ephemeral warmth of joy and the enduring chill of
loss.

Ascending through the layers of memory, Michael is drawn towards an intimate narrative—
a hidden video within the smartphone's digital recesses. The screen flickers to life, casting
an ethereal glow on the walls adorned with remnants of a life now fragmented. In the
haunting video, a younger Emma materializes, a specter of vitality and hope frozen in a
fleeting moment. The disconnect between the vibrant past and the desolate present leaves
Michael grappling with the dissonance, a symphony of emotions echoing through the
attic's hollowed corridors.

Unlocking the smartphone unravels more than just digital mysteries; it unveils the layers
of grief hidden beneath the surface. Emma's voice, a melancholic melody, narrates the
video— a haunting reflection of the chasm between the past and the present.

YOUNGER EMMA
(smiling) Hey, Michael. I wanted to leave you something to remember me by. Something timeless.

As Michael absorbs the words, the video pans to an unexpected backdrop—the police
station, an imposing structure looming in the background. Emma's cryptic message
becomes a beacon, guiding Michael towards the next act in this sorrowful drama. The attic
bedroom, a repository of both joy and anguish, urges him to descend into the night, where
the shadows of Old Town await with veiled revelations.

The rain outside, a constant companion in this spectral journey, intensifies as Michael
steps onto the cobblestone streets once more. The flashlight's glow, now laden with
newfound purpose, illuminates the path leading to the police station. The air is charged
with an eerie anticipation as Michael, fueled by a sense of urgency and dread, ventures
towards the heart of authority now entangled with the enigma of his wife's disappearance.


Scene 6: Police Station and Bus Exploration
POLICE STATION - NIGHT


The police station, veiled in the inky darkness, once a symbol of strength, now stands as
an edifice of long-forgotten suffering. The flickering streetlights cast elongated shadows on
the cobblestone path, a foreboding prelude to the revelations that lie within. The entrance,
sealed by an intangible force, challenges Michael to unravel its secrets—a locked gate
barring access to the echoes of his unanswered questions.

The smartphone, now a beacon of guidance, holds the key to unlocking the police station's
enigmatic threshold. As Michael explores the exterior, he stumbles upon an emergency kit
door on the side of an abandoned bus—a relic of a bygone era. A puzzle emerges,
demanding his attention and resourcefulness. The rain, an unrelenting accomplice,
intensifies as he endeavors to gather the components scattered amidst the storm.

In the dance of shadows and raindrops, Michael unravels the puzzle, piecing together the
fragments needed to unlock the emergency kit door. Each step forward feels like a pact
with destiny, the components in his possession becoming talismans against the
encroaching darkness. The unlocking mechanism, accompanied by the distant rumble of
thunder, echoes through the night—a symbolic proclamation of his passage into the
unknown.

As the emergency kit door yields to Michael's persistence, it reveals a trove of supplies
and, more importantly, a key—a tangible artifact within this surreal tapestry. The rain-
soaked atmosphere intensifies as he clutches the key, a conduit to the elusive heart of the
police station. The bus, a vessel suspended in time, echoes with the pitter-patter of
raindrops on its dilapidated roof.

With the key in hand, Michael unlocks the emergency exit on the back of the bus—a
gateway into the labyrinthine corridors within. Yet, as the door swings open, the
atmosphere shifts, distorting reality in tandem with the shadows that encircle him. The bus
elongates and contorts, creating a disorienting journey through its interior—a symbolic
reflection of the inner turmoil Michael faces.

Inside the bus, reality warps and deforms as on a nightmare, as Michael battles the Theta Nigrum once more. The
decaying exterior mirrors the corrosion within Michael's heart- a delicate balance between
reality and the metaphysical.

The bus, now a paradox of normality and decay, becomes a vessel through which Michael
confronts the intangible nature of grief. The rain, a relentless backdrop, washes away the
remnants of suffering that cling to the bus's rusted exterior. The flashlight, an unwavering
guide, reveals not only the distorted reality within the bus but also the ephemeral nature of
the emotional struggle Michael faces.

As the battle within the bus concludes, a profound calm settles over the town. The rain,
having witnessed the internal turmoil of the seeker, now falls with a gentler touch. The
narrow exit door, once an elusive portal, opens before Michael. Leading out into the night,
it becomes a symbolic threshold— an invitation to leave the bus and step into the unknown.


Scene 7: Emma's Message and Police Station Finale
POLICE STATION - NIGHT

Closing the bus's front folding door behind him, Michael watches in silent awe as the
vessel of grief undergoes a metamorphosis. Before his eyes, the bus rusts and decays,
the rainwater transforming into vines that weave through the corroded metal. Nature
reclaims the relic, erasing the traces of struggle and despair. The bus, once a distorted
symbol of grief, now returns to the embrace of the surrounding foliage, becoming one with
the ever-changing tapestry of St. Peters.

With the Theta Nigrum defeated, Michael stands alone on the cobblestone street, his gaze
fixed on the bus's transformation. The rain, now a gentle caress, washes away the echoes
of the battle. The smartphone, his digital compass, buzzes with a message— a text from
Emma.

The screen illuminates with her words, a cryptic inquiry about his delayed arrival at
the police station, where she claims to have waited for what feels like an eternity.

The police station looms ahead, its facade a testament to both authority and mystery.
Emma's message becomes a beacon, a call from the depths of the unknown urging
Michael forward. The cobblestone path, now bathed in the soft glow of the porch lights, leads
him to the station's imposing entrance. The rain, having witnessed the seeker's journey,
intensifies one final time as Michael looks down at his phone, unbidden tears hotly rolling down his
cheeks, disappearing into the cold rain falling from the sky.

An icy hollowness grows in his chest, as, one letter at a time, he taps out the reply, hoping she somehow
receives it in this place of desperation and despair:

'I'm here.'

END CHAPTER ONE