Felix

SCENE 1 – ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – NIGHT (A dilapidated warehouse stands in the middle of an industrial graveyard. Broken windows line the rusted walls, and the only sound is the wind howling through the gaps. Rain drizzles from the sky, turning the cracked pavement into a slick mess of mud and filth.) (Inside, the darkness is thick. The only source of light flickers from a single, dying fluorescent bulb swinging from the ceiling, casting long, grotesque shadows across the concrete floor. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood.) (A group of heavily armed SWAT officers moves in formation, rifles raised. Their boots crunch over shattered glass and debris. The leader, SGT. MATTHEWS, motions for them to stop.) SGT. MATTHEWS (low, to radio) We got movement. (Ahead of them, standing in the center of the dimly lit warehouse, is a man. His shirt, once white, is now soaked in fresh blood. His eyes are wild, manic. His breathing—erratic.) (This is FELIX MARROW. And he looks utterly delighted.) SGT. MATTHEWS (aiming rifle) Felix Marrow! Drop the weapon! Hands where we can see ‘em! (Felix stands there, silent. He c***s his head, amused. The knife in his hand drips with blood, forming a small, glistening puddle beneath him.) FELIX MARROW (chuckling, soft) I wondered how long it’d take you fuckers to find me. OFFICER REED (gritted teeth) Last chance, asshole. Drop the knife or we’ll drop you. (Felix smiles wider. It’s an ugly, twisted grin—like he knows something they don’t. He grips the knife tighter, but his fingers twitch toward something else in his pocket—a small, blackened voodoo charm.) (His lips move, whispering something. The language is guttural, unnatural.) OFFICER REED (whispering to Matthews) What the f**k is he saying? SGT. MATTHEWS (gritted teeth) Doesn’t matter. Take the shot. (Felix’s eyes roll back, his body tensing, trembling. The very air around him feels like it’s vibrating. The lights flicker—pop, pop, pop!—until only darkness remains.) _(Then—)BANG! BANG! (Felix staggers back as the bullets rip through his chest. Blood splashes onto the cold floor. His body trembles… but his grin remains.) FELIX MARROW (whispering, rasping) You think you can kill me? (He chokes on blood, laughing. Then he collapses, the charm slipping from his fingers. It lands in his blood, soaking it in.) (Silence.) (The camera zooms in on the charm—it pulses, faintly.) CUT TO BLACK. ⸻ SCENE 2 – SMALL TOY STORE – DAY (The musty air of an old antique toy shop lingers—dust, aged wood, and a faint scent of mothballs. Shelves packed with porcelain dolls, wooden puppets, and other forgotten playthings stretch toward the ceiling. Sunlight filters through grimy windows, illuminating tiny floating dust particles.) (Behind the cluttered counter, an elderly woman, MRS. TURNER, unwraps a new shipment. Her fingers, bony and covered in age spots, carefully pry open a worn cardboard box. The label is faded, barely legible: “Estate Sale – Clearance.”) (Inside the box, nestled between cracked dolls and old trinkets, is something different. Something… off.) (A small, ragged, hand-stitched doll with button eyes and a twisted grin. Dressed in faded, old-fashioned clothes. A yellowed tag dangles from its chest.) “Felix.” MRS. TURNER (frowning, inspecting) Huh. Ain’t you an ugly little s**t… (She mutters to herself as she sets the doll on the highest shelf, brushing off the dust. As she turns away, the camera lingers—Felix’s button eyes seem to shift, ever so slightly.) ⸻ SCENE 3 – ETHAN’S HOUSE – NIGHT (The house is small, cluttered with a mix of old furniture and modern mess. The coffee table is covered with empty soda cans, schoolwork, and a half-eaten sandwich. A faint hum of the TV plays in the background.) (ETHAN CARTER, 16, dark curls, lean frame, sits on the couch, phone in hand. His foot taps against the floor absentmindedly as he scrolls through his messages. His eyes linger on one chat in particular—Noah Sinclair.) (He types… deletes… types again. His heart pounds a little harder than it should.) (The front door opens. His mother, LISA CARTER, 40s, sharp-witted, walks in carrying a thrift store bag.) LISA (grinning) Got you something today. ETHAN (not looking up) Unless it’s a new phone, I don’t want it. (Lisa reaches into the bag, pulling out Felix. Ethan finally glances up—and recoils immediately.) ETHAN (disgusted) What the f**k is that? LISA (defensive) It’s vintage. Thought you might like it. ETHAN (scoffing) Mom. That thing looks like it came out of a crackhead’s nightmare. LISA (rolling her eyes) Jesus, Ethan. Can you go one day without saying something f****d up? (She tosses the doll onto the couch. Ethan eyes it warily. Felix’s stitched grin seems… wider.) ETHAN (smirking, muttering) Yeah, that thing’s definitely cursed. LISA (mocking) Oooooh, scary. Maybe it’ll kill you in your sleep. ETHAN (muttering) Better than my algebra grade doing it. (Lisa snorts, shaking her head. As she walks off, Felix sits there… staring.) ⸻ SCENE 4 – ETHAN’S ROOM – MIDNIGHT (The room is dark. The only light comes from Ethan’s phone screen as he lies in bed, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Noah’s chat is still open.) (His heart pounds. He types: “Hey. You still up?”) (He hesitates. Then—he presses send.) (Silence. His phone glows against his face. The air feels heavy. In the corner of the room, on the chair, Felix sits perfectly still.) (A faint whisper snakes through the room.) FELIX (soft, almost playful) Ethan… (Ethan freezes. His breath catches. His fingers stiffen over his phone. Slowly, he turns his head—Felix hasn’t moved. But something in the room feels… wrong.) (His heartbeat pounds in his ears. He swallows hard, flipping his pillow to the cold side. He closes his eyes.) (The camera lingers on Felix. His button eyes gleam. His grin stretches.) FADE TO BLACK. ⸻ TO BE CONTINUED…