THE MORNING
Rachel's eyes snap open. She is pale, her pupils dilated. She stares at the ceiling for a heartbeat, her chest heaving.
She throws the heavy wool blanket aside. Her movements are jagged. She gathers her and dresses herself. She smooths the fabric , a desperate attempt to feel "put together" in a world that has fallen apart.
TOWARDS THE HALL
Rachel steps into the hall. She stops. She tilts her head, listening.
The house is deathly silent. No footsteps. No breathing.
(A fragile, cracking whisper)
RACHEL: Addie?
She looks around the empty corridor. Her expression is one of growing isolation.
She walks slowly towards the kitchen .
Rachel enters the kitchen. On the rough wooden table sits a plate of food - steaming, fresh, and smelling of salt and herbs.
She doesn't look for the cook. A primal, sudden hunger hits her. She begins to eat, her movements mechanical. While she chews, her eyes never stop moving, darting toward the windows, watching the purple light shift across the floorboards.
SLAM!
The front door swings open, hitting the wall.
Rachel got anxious, her chair screeching violently against the floor. She recoils, her back hitting the kitchen counter. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps; her eyes are wide with panic.
ADDIE:
Don't be scared. It's just me.
Addie enters. He is lean, wearing a weathered brown leather coat stained with dust. His eyes are sunken, looking exhausted, but his voice is a steady anchor. He carries several wrapped bundles.
He sets them on the table. He unwraps the main package.
Inside is a dress.
The dress is a deep crimson-red, midi-length vintage casual dress made from a soft cotton-blend fabric with a smooth matte finish. It features a square neckline trimmed with delicate ruffles and a small ribbon tie at the center. The long sleeves are slightly puffed at the shoulders and gathered into ruffled cuffs, while the fitted bodice gently defines the waist before flowing into a soft A-line skirt that falls gracefully to mid-calf. The back is designed with a deep square cut and an elegant corset-style lace-up closure, adding a subtle old-fashioned charm. Free of heavy embroidery or embellishments, the dress relies on its clean silhouette, soft drape, and rich crimson color to create a timeless, feminine, and effortlessly elegant 1990s-inspired vintage look.
ADDIE:
(softly, observing her)
"I brought clothes for you. You can wear the dress after taking a shower."
Rachel glanced at the neatly folded bundle resting in his hands. For a brief second, hesitation crossed her face before she gave a small nod.
RACHEL:
(quietly)
"Yeah... you are right , I think I should take shower".
Neither of them spoke another word.
Rachel meal in silence. She finally stood up and walked towards her room and went to the bathroom with a towel .
The bathroom door creaked shut.
Moments later, the sound of running water filled the old mansion.
Addie remained where he was. Sitting on a chair. He was lost in his own thoughts.
IN BEDROOM - LATER
Rachel emerges. The red dress is a violent contrast against her pale skin and the violet shadows of the house. She looks less like a victim and more like a soldier.
The fabric wrapped around her as though it had been tailored for her alone. Every seam settled perfectly against her body. Not too loose. Not too tight.
Perfect.
Rachel frowned.
"How...?"
She brushed the strange feeling aside and walked toward the bedroom door.
The wooden floor groaned beneath her footsteps.
She opened it.
The hallway fell silent.
Addie looked up.
The moment his eyes met her-
He froze.
His calm expression cracked for the first time.
His eyes widened ever so slightly.Not because the dress looked beautiful...
But because it fit her perfectly.
As though it had been waiting for her.
As though it had always belonged to her.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence between them became suffocating for a mimute .
For the briefest instant-
Rachel thought she saw the crimson fabric move on its own.
Then everything became still again.
Addie finally found his voice, barely above a whisper.
ADDIE:
"...It fits you perfectly."
There was admiration in his tone...
But beneath it—
Something closer to fear.
Addie looks her over. He doesn't smile, but his gaze softens.
He now comes to the point what he wanted to talk with her soon.
ADDIE:
I know people. Outcasts. People who actually understand the geography of this place. They can tell you why this is happening.I know you will be confused where you are and why you are here . And only one person can answer all your question.
Fear, confusion, and determination fought behind her eyes. Finally, she broke the silence.
Rachel (her voice low but steady, though uncertainty lingered in every word):
"And who can tell me... why I am here in such a strange place?"
Addie remained motionless. His expression barely changed, yet his emerald eyes revealed a flicker of hesitation. He looked away for a brief moment, as though weighing whether the truth would destroy the fragile trust between them.
A slow sigh escaped his lips.
Addie (calmly, with a trace of regret):
"If I tell you now... you won't believe a single word. But after meeting her... many of your questions will finally have answers."
Rachel narrowed her eyes. His response only deepened the mystery.
She took a cautious step closer, studying him. There was no mockery, no deception she could detect- only an unsettling seriousness.
Her mind screamed for explanations, yet something inside her whispered that he genuinely believed what he was saying.
After a long pause, she nodded once.
Rachel (carefully, trying to hide her growing anxiety):
"Okay... So when are we going... and how?"
For the first time, a faint smile tugged at the corner of Addie's lips-not one of joy, but of quiet certainty.
He lifted his gaze toward the old wooden door.
Addie (softly):
"You have to come with me."
The words hung in the air like an unspoken warning.
Rachel hesitated. Every instinct told her not to trust a stranger, not to step into an unknown world with someone whose answers only created more questions.
Yet staying behind offered no answers either.
Drawing a slow breath, she straightened her shoulders and silently agreed.
Without another word, Addie turned toward the door. His long coat shifted with the movement as he reached for the weathered handle.
The door creaked open.
A rush of cold wind swept inside, carrying the scent of damp earth, ancient trees, and something strangely unfamiliar.
Rachel instinctively wrapped her arms around herself before following him.
Both stepped out of the house.
The cottage door closed behind them with a dull thud, leaving the warmth of the small home behind.
FRONT YARD - MOMENTS LATER
The sky is a heavy, oppressive
PURPLE
The color of a fresh bruise. It isn't a bright morning; it's a dim, amethyst haze that allows the twisted, skeletal shapes of the trees and the grey, ash-like grass to be visible, but everything looks alien.
They step outside.
The world is unnervingly quiet. The screams of the previous night have been replaced by a vacuum of sound.
Addie reaches into his pocket and produces a single, tarnished silver coin. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger. He closes his eyes and begins to mutter-a low, guttural chant, barely a vibration in his throat.
Rachel leans in, her brow furrowed, her eyes reflecting the silver of the coin.
Suddenly, the coin GLOWS with a blinding white heat.
It doesn't just grow; it unfolds. With a series of violent, metallic CLANGS and the sound of rushing wind, the silver expands. Ribbons of metal tear through the air, weaving themselves together in a blur of motion.
Within seconds, the coin has transformed.
Standing before them is a massive, obsidian-black CARRIAGE. It is a beast of iron-bound wood and polished onyx, its wheels spiked and heavy.
Hitched to the front are two towering HORSES. Their coats are the color of a void, their manes flowing like smoke, and their eyes glow with a faint, eerie violet light that matches the sky.
The horses snort, sending a cloud of purple mist into the air. Addie opens the door and gestures for her to enter.
Addie sits there too and says:
Hold on. It's a long way to the border.
THE FORGOTTEN TEMPLE - LATER
The carriage screeches to a halt.
Before them stands a massive structure. At first glance, it looks like a sacred temple. Great white marble pillars rise toward the purple sky, and a wide stone staircase leads up to a grand archway.
But as the carriage stops, the "sacred" illusion fades.
The marble is cracked and blackened, as if burned from the inside. Thick, oily vines climb the pillars like strangling snakes. There are no priests here. No incense.
Instead, the temple is draped in BLACK.
Thousands of EAGLES and CROWS cover every inch of the structure. They sit on the cornices, the pillars, and the stairs—a living carpet of iridescent black feathers.
As Rachel and Addie step out of the carriage, the birds don't fly away. They all turn their heads in perfect unison, thousands of beady, intelligent eyes locking onto the newcomers.
The silence is broken by a single, loud
CAW!
Then, a thousand more join in, a deafening wall of sound that echoes through the dead valley.
Rachel shivers, clutching the fabric of her red dress, her eyes wide with a new kind of dread.
RACHEL:
(Whispering)
You said this place was sacred.
Addie looks up at the sea of black birds, his expression grim.
ADDIE:
It was. Once.