sk8rj06
05-17-2007, 08:44 PM
Not sure where this should go, as it's not Buffy related, but I'm working on a series that's greatly influenced by So Weird and Supernatural. Here's what it's about:
Have you ever wondered what lurked in the shadows? What is it that's behind closed doors? Or makes those eerie noises in rooms with no inhabitants? Recent high school graduate, Chris Cross, is busy touring the country, taking time off of school before he goes to college. But in every town he stops in, he seems to dig up some form of the paranormal. Though, Brooke Sanders, a friend of Chris' who gets by by performing in small clubs for cash, doesn't believe in the supernatural, and always tries to come up with a logical explanation, she can't help but admit weird things happen around Chris. Chris also travels with his close friend, Carey Davis, and the three work together to continue their trek across the country. But as Chris furthers along his journey, he finds more clues about his family and their past. And evil spirits want him dead. The trio must work together to find what these evil spirits are and what Chris' past has to do with it--before it's too late.
And now, here's the websight, where you can read more. I'll be posting 'chapters' every so often of each 'episode'. It's not really in any kind of script form. More of a story.
Edit:
Here's the first chapter:
Crossed: Pilot (aka “Poltergeist”)
Chris’ Blog
Friday, Oct 13, 2006
Poltergeist is German for "noisy spirit". These are the ghosts that like to slam doors, move furniture around, fling things through the air, and set fires blazing. Usually, they are invisible, but in rare cases, they come along with a ghostly body, and they can be found just about anywhere. Though mostly, they like to haunt people's homes or places of work. Most often, poltergeists like to focus their energy on one person, but in some cases, it can be a house or building that means something to them.
In Tennessee, 1817, John Bell's farm was haunted by a spirit known as the "Bell Witch". When future president, Andrew Jackson came to stay, he heard the screams of John's daughter, Betsy, as the spirit pinched and slapped her. Then, Jackson, himself, was attacked. Oddly enough, the spirit was kind to Mrs. Bell, sometimes even singing to her. In 1820, when John fell ill and died, the attacks left, as if the spirit's work was finished.
So, if you want to get rid of a poltergeist, all you need to do is find what the ghost is haunting and why. And once you find out that reason, maybe all you need to do is help it to get it to leave.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chris pulled his black Jeep Wrangler up to a large log cabin. He was in small town, Blue Ridge, North Carolina. His friend, Carey Davis, had just recently moved into the house after leaving his hometown in Greensboro to live with his dad. Taking a year off from school before he went to college, Chris had decided to travel around the country, wanting to see the world for how it really was, and not just how he pictured it from a town in the middle of North Carolina. So when Carey had invited him to stay for a while, Chris had accepted.
Now, with his jeep pulled up in front of his friend’s house, he turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. He looked up at the cabin. It reminded him of some of the houses back home. Chris shut his door and walked up toward the door of the house. A few moments later, Carey stepped out.
“Chris!” he said, making his way down the wooden steps. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until later?” He held his hand out for a shake. “Weren’t you coming from Nashville?”
Chris had gone to Nashville for a week and a half to support another one of his friends, Brooke Sanders. She was a singer, and had a gig at some clubs down there. She was going to come down later, after her final gig that night.
“Yeah, Brooke says ‘hey’.” Chris looked back up at the cabin. “So this is the new house, huh? It’s…big.”
“Yeh,” Carey agreed. “It’s kind of odd that only my dad and I live in it. But, you know, it leaves more space for us.”
“I bet.” Chris returned his attention to his friend. “So, what’s there to do around these parts?”
“Not much,” Carey admitted. “There’s a small stretch that the locals like to call ‘Main Street’, but other than a library and semi-decent café, there’s not much over there. Asheville is pretty cool though. You just head down the interstate for a while.”
“Fun. What about music?”
“There may be a few decent stored in Asheville.” He shrugged. “Haven’t explored too much yet.”
“Well, we’re just going to have to fix that.” He looked back at his jeep, his dirty clothes visible through his window. “But maybe we’ll get to that later. Do you happen to have your washing machine up and running yet?”
A hump of clothes fell from the window. The two friends gave each other a look. A moment later, they erupted with laughter.
“Guess life on the road leaves little time to do laundry.” Carey followed Chris to the jeep.
“You could say that,” Chris opened the door to the jeep and a pile of clothes fell out. “Got a couple baskets?”
Chris turned the dial on the washer, and water began flowing into the basin. He took a look at his clothes. It was definitely going to take a couple loads to get all his clothes clean.
Note to self, Chris thought. Be sure to spend ten cents to wash clothes at a laundromat every once in a while.
He bent down and picked up a couple jeans. As he threw the jeans in the wash, he had his eyes set on a few shirts he liked.
Knock! Knock!
Chris looked up.
“Carey?”
Nothing.
He shrugged it off, and continued adding clothes to the washer. When it was full, he shut the lid and took another look at the clothes he had yet to wash.
Man! Chris thought. I would separate them, but that’ll just be a waste of time. I guess I’ll just go find out what Carey’s doing.
He walked into the kitchen. Carey had given him a layout of the house before leaving him to go work on something out back.
The front door of the house opened up into a hall. To the left was the living room, and to the right, the dining room. If you walked into the living room, which took up almost the entire left side of the first floor, you could continue walking to a small foyer in the back that had a door to the back deck.
Continuing through the room would take you to the kitchen. Directly in front of where you would be standing, you would see another smaller foyer, where the washer and dryer were located. To the left, a door that would take you down some steps into the back yard. To the right, was the dining room, which would take you back to the main hall.
The main hall also housed the staircase that would take you upstairs and a door to go down to the basement. The basement was just one big room with a widescreen tv, pool table, leather “L-shaped” couch, and a refrigerator. Upstairs was four bedrooms and two bathrooms, the four rooms split between Mr. Davis and Carey.
Right now, Chris was in the kitchen. He walked around an island and entered the small foyer at the back of the house. The crash of a pan behind him startled him. He turned around, and peered into the kitchen. Nobody was there.
“Hello? Carey?” He started walking toward the kitchen. “Mr. Davis? It’s me, Chris. Carey told you I was coming over, right?” Entering the kitchen, he realized he wasn’t talking to anyone.
He noticed a single pan lying on the floor and bent down to pick it up. A shiver rand across his spine that chilled him, and he dropped the frying pan. He felt as though someone was watching him.
He looked out the window that shoed the back yard. Carey wasn’t out there. “Real funny, Carey.” He picked up the pan, and stood up. “You almost had me going—” As he turned to face the foyer, he bumped into his friend, oil spilling all over him. “—there.”
He looked down at the mess on his shirt. “Great.” He stepped out of the way, placing the frying pan on the counter. “Sorry, man, I didn’t see you there.”
“No problem. I can clean whatever spilled on the floor,” Carey smiled and set the bottle of oil he had in his hands on the counter. “Can’t figure out how the cap came off.” He turned his attention backed to Chris. “Get a load in?”
“Just.” He took his shirt off. “This one will go with the rest of the dirty ones.” He walked over to the washer room. “So, what are you doing with that stuff, anyway?”
“Checked your oil,” he explained. “It was running low, so I figured I would help you out.” He noticed the pan on the island. “Cooking something?”
“Nah, it was lying on the floor.” He tossed the shirt in his hands onto the pile of dirty clothes. “Wait, so you’ve been outside all this time?”
“Yeh. Why?”
“No reason.” His eyes shifted to the pan. “You need any help?”
“Nah, I got it. Let me finish up, and we can head into town.”
“Cool.” He gave a grin, and Carey nodded, grabbed the bottle, and headed back out to the jeep.
Chris watched him as he left. Then, he grabbed a towel off the counter and bent down to clean up the spilt oil. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the puddle. Before his eyes, the puddle had formed three words:
Let
Me
Out
And just as quickly as the words appeared, they disappeared.
Have you ever wondered what lurked in the shadows? What is it that's behind closed doors? Or makes those eerie noises in rooms with no inhabitants? Recent high school graduate, Chris Cross, is busy touring the country, taking time off of school before he goes to college. But in every town he stops in, he seems to dig up some form of the paranormal. Though, Brooke Sanders, a friend of Chris' who gets by by performing in small clubs for cash, doesn't believe in the supernatural, and always tries to come up with a logical explanation, she can't help but admit weird things happen around Chris. Chris also travels with his close friend, Carey Davis, and the three work together to continue their trek across the country. But as Chris furthers along his journey, he finds more clues about his family and their past. And evil spirits want him dead. The trio must work together to find what these evil spirits are and what Chris' past has to do with it--before it's too late.
And now, here's the websight, where you can read more. I'll be posting 'chapters' every so often of each 'episode'. It's not really in any kind of script form. More of a story.
Edit:
Here's the first chapter:
Crossed: Pilot (aka “Poltergeist”)
Chris’ Blog
Friday, Oct 13, 2006
Poltergeist is German for "noisy spirit". These are the ghosts that like to slam doors, move furniture around, fling things through the air, and set fires blazing. Usually, they are invisible, but in rare cases, they come along with a ghostly body, and they can be found just about anywhere. Though mostly, they like to haunt people's homes or places of work. Most often, poltergeists like to focus their energy on one person, but in some cases, it can be a house or building that means something to them.
In Tennessee, 1817, John Bell's farm was haunted by a spirit known as the "Bell Witch". When future president, Andrew Jackson came to stay, he heard the screams of John's daughter, Betsy, as the spirit pinched and slapped her. Then, Jackson, himself, was attacked. Oddly enough, the spirit was kind to Mrs. Bell, sometimes even singing to her. In 1820, when John fell ill and died, the attacks left, as if the spirit's work was finished.
So, if you want to get rid of a poltergeist, all you need to do is find what the ghost is haunting and why. And once you find out that reason, maybe all you need to do is help it to get it to leave.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chris pulled his black Jeep Wrangler up to a large log cabin. He was in small town, Blue Ridge, North Carolina. His friend, Carey Davis, had just recently moved into the house after leaving his hometown in Greensboro to live with his dad. Taking a year off from school before he went to college, Chris had decided to travel around the country, wanting to see the world for how it really was, and not just how he pictured it from a town in the middle of North Carolina. So when Carey had invited him to stay for a while, Chris had accepted.
Now, with his jeep pulled up in front of his friend’s house, he turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. He looked up at the cabin. It reminded him of some of the houses back home. Chris shut his door and walked up toward the door of the house. A few moments later, Carey stepped out.
“Chris!” he said, making his way down the wooden steps. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until later?” He held his hand out for a shake. “Weren’t you coming from Nashville?”
Chris had gone to Nashville for a week and a half to support another one of his friends, Brooke Sanders. She was a singer, and had a gig at some clubs down there. She was going to come down later, after her final gig that night.
“Yeah, Brooke says ‘hey’.” Chris looked back up at the cabin. “So this is the new house, huh? It’s…big.”
“Yeh,” Carey agreed. “It’s kind of odd that only my dad and I live in it. But, you know, it leaves more space for us.”
“I bet.” Chris returned his attention to his friend. “So, what’s there to do around these parts?”
“Not much,” Carey admitted. “There’s a small stretch that the locals like to call ‘Main Street’, but other than a library and semi-decent café, there’s not much over there. Asheville is pretty cool though. You just head down the interstate for a while.”
“Fun. What about music?”
“There may be a few decent stored in Asheville.” He shrugged. “Haven’t explored too much yet.”
“Well, we’re just going to have to fix that.” He looked back at his jeep, his dirty clothes visible through his window. “But maybe we’ll get to that later. Do you happen to have your washing machine up and running yet?”
A hump of clothes fell from the window. The two friends gave each other a look. A moment later, they erupted with laughter.
“Guess life on the road leaves little time to do laundry.” Carey followed Chris to the jeep.
“You could say that,” Chris opened the door to the jeep and a pile of clothes fell out. “Got a couple baskets?”
Chris turned the dial on the washer, and water began flowing into the basin. He took a look at his clothes. It was definitely going to take a couple loads to get all his clothes clean.
Note to self, Chris thought. Be sure to spend ten cents to wash clothes at a laundromat every once in a while.
He bent down and picked up a couple jeans. As he threw the jeans in the wash, he had his eyes set on a few shirts he liked.
Knock! Knock!
Chris looked up.
“Carey?”
Nothing.
He shrugged it off, and continued adding clothes to the washer. When it was full, he shut the lid and took another look at the clothes he had yet to wash.
Man! Chris thought. I would separate them, but that’ll just be a waste of time. I guess I’ll just go find out what Carey’s doing.
He walked into the kitchen. Carey had given him a layout of the house before leaving him to go work on something out back.
The front door of the house opened up into a hall. To the left was the living room, and to the right, the dining room. If you walked into the living room, which took up almost the entire left side of the first floor, you could continue walking to a small foyer in the back that had a door to the back deck.
Continuing through the room would take you to the kitchen. Directly in front of where you would be standing, you would see another smaller foyer, where the washer and dryer were located. To the left, a door that would take you down some steps into the back yard. To the right, was the dining room, which would take you back to the main hall.
The main hall also housed the staircase that would take you upstairs and a door to go down to the basement. The basement was just one big room with a widescreen tv, pool table, leather “L-shaped” couch, and a refrigerator. Upstairs was four bedrooms and two bathrooms, the four rooms split between Mr. Davis and Carey.
Right now, Chris was in the kitchen. He walked around an island and entered the small foyer at the back of the house. The crash of a pan behind him startled him. He turned around, and peered into the kitchen. Nobody was there.
“Hello? Carey?” He started walking toward the kitchen. “Mr. Davis? It’s me, Chris. Carey told you I was coming over, right?” Entering the kitchen, he realized he wasn’t talking to anyone.
He noticed a single pan lying on the floor and bent down to pick it up. A shiver rand across his spine that chilled him, and he dropped the frying pan. He felt as though someone was watching him.
He looked out the window that shoed the back yard. Carey wasn’t out there. “Real funny, Carey.” He picked up the pan, and stood up. “You almost had me going—” As he turned to face the foyer, he bumped into his friend, oil spilling all over him. “—there.”
He looked down at the mess on his shirt. “Great.” He stepped out of the way, placing the frying pan on the counter. “Sorry, man, I didn’t see you there.”
“No problem. I can clean whatever spilled on the floor,” Carey smiled and set the bottle of oil he had in his hands on the counter. “Can’t figure out how the cap came off.” He turned his attention backed to Chris. “Get a load in?”
“Just.” He took his shirt off. “This one will go with the rest of the dirty ones.” He walked over to the washer room. “So, what are you doing with that stuff, anyway?”
“Checked your oil,” he explained. “It was running low, so I figured I would help you out.” He noticed the pan on the island. “Cooking something?”
“Nah, it was lying on the floor.” He tossed the shirt in his hands onto the pile of dirty clothes. “Wait, so you’ve been outside all this time?”
“Yeh. Why?”
“No reason.” His eyes shifted to the pan. “You need any help?”
“Nah, I got it. Let me finish up, and we can head into town.”
“Cool.” He gave a grin, and Carey nodded, grabbed the bottle, and headed back out to the jeep.
Chris watched him as he left. Then, he grabbed a towel off the counter and bent down to clean up the spilt oil. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the puddle. Before his eyes, the puddle had formed three words:
Let
Me
Out
And just as quickly as the words appeared, they disappeared.