MORNING BELL FIRST DRAFT Written by Paul Domanski (512 623)

82 Kerry Rd Parkview 082 740 9262 Domanskip.paul@gmail.com

EXT. ISOLATED COUNTRY DRIVE - DAY Thom Yorke, 22, rides like the wind. The spokes on his Yelle X-Series bike SPIN with the rapidity of a childs top. The winter-ravaged landscape WHIZZES by alongside him, causing a blur of corn-cob yellows and coffee-bean browns to bleed from the tar on which he rides. He huddles forward and grips the handlebars tighter in an attempt to fend off the icy breeze. Something catches his eye and he squeezes on the BREAKS, coming to a halt between two aged birch trees. He removes his helmet and begins to dismount his bike cautiously. Upon realizing what it was that caught his eye, he lets his bike CRASH to ground and rushes forward. Thom stares straight into the cold, listless eyes of a dead man; complete with pallid flesh, blood-matted hair and a mouth contorted as if still screaming for help. Thom covers his mouth and reels around in disgust before resting his hands on his knees and taking a few deep breaths. He turns and looks down at the corpse again, noticing that it holds a crumpled note in its hand. Thom bends over to pick it up but stops, backs away and shakes his head. THOM Someones gonna find you man.... He picks up his helmet and begins to back away slowly. THOM (CONTD) Someones gonna find you and find out what happened to you... But not me man.... Not me. Thom gets onto his bike and begins to put his helmet on but half-way through tightening the strap, stops and grimaces. He dismounts the bike again and without bothering to take off his helmet, strides forward, bends over and plucks the note from the hand of the corpse. He hastily unfolds it and begins to read.

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Thom stares at the note, his face marked with apprehension. PANICKED VOICE (V.O.) Whoever you are... If youre reading this then they got me. He puts the note into his pocket, mounts his bike and begins to ride. The HISS of rubber on tar whispers to Thom as he goes, his face creased in confliction. PANICKED VOICE (V.O.) Please, take this note to my brother. Morning Bell Farm. After a short journey he notices a battered iron sign on the side of the road. It reads Morning Bell Farm. PANICKED VOICE (V.O.) Dont be afraid... Hell put everything in its right place. A long dusty path winds down through some dead trees past the sign and as Thom stares in contemplation, the wind picks up and creates a mournful GROAN. THOM (Almost a whisper) Fuck.... He looks back at the open road in front of him and almost begins to pedal again but decides against it and turns his bike towards the path instead. At the end of the path is a weathered yellow cottage. The peeled paint creates dark wooden scars and the once-white rafters BANG softly against the dusty windows. Thom gets off of his bike and wheels it along the last few meters that stand between him and the battered wooden door. A stained bronze bell hangs to the right of the door and Thom reluctantly reaches out and swings it resulting in a melancholic TOLL. As the echo of the bell fades to silence, the muffled SCREECH of a chair being pulled out comes from behind the door followed by the rhythmic THUD of feet on wood. Thoms BREATHING quickens as the door slowly CREAKS open.

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EFRIM MENUCK, 59, wears a bright yellow cap and a plain black T-shirt. His jeans seem too big for him as do his black leather boots. EFRIM Hello there! What can I do for you? Thom seems to relax a little. THOM I... Need to show you something. Your brother... I found his body. Efrim stares down at the ground for a few seconds before turning and slowly walking back into the house. EFRIM Go inside. Ill be right in.... I need a minute. Thom seems reluctant at first but shrugs it off and steps inside. FADE TO: INT. MORNING BELL FARMHOUSE - DAY Thom takes a few steps into the house and looks around. Faint MUSIC trickles in from somewhere. The curtains inside are fully drawn, smothering the sunlight and leaving a single old light-bulb to spatter the living-room with a dull orange glow. Efrim eventually steps in and closes the door behind him. EFRIM Drink? Smoke? Efrim walks across the room. THOM No thanks... I just wanna give this to you and go. Efrim is standing in the corner of the living room now, the shadows obscuring everything but his silhouette. EFRIM Whats your name?

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THOM (Shakily) Its Thom. Efrim stands motionless in the same position, his head bowed. EFRIM Im Efrim. Why dont you come and take a seat? THOM No thanks, Im actually in quite a hurry... Listen, your brother left this note. Thom puts the note down on a small wooden table next to the door. THOM (CONTD) (Panicky) His body is just down the road. Im sorry man but Im gonna leave now. Thom reaches for the door and YANKS at its handle only to find it locked. Efrim laughs quietly from the opposite end of the room and slowly turns around. EFRIM (Sing-song) No youre not. Thom tries the door again, desperately pulling at the handle but to no avail. Efrim slowly begins walking across the room towards Thom. EFRIM (CONTD) (Unstable) See Thom... Im not a good man. Thom desperately looks around for some form of escape but doesnt find one. He turns and begins KICKING at the door with all of his might as Efrim comes closer and closer. EFRIM (CONTD) (Manic) I tried to be a good man. I really did... Just. Didnt. Work for me. The door gives way seconds before Efrim reaches Thom who lurches out, rips his bike up from the ground and leaps onto it. Efrim stands at the door laughing as Thom begins to peddle; seemingly unconcerned.

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Thom begins riding away, pedaling as fast as he can, completely oblivious to the chain thats been tied to the back of the bike. Efrim roars with laughter as the chain reaches its limit and causes Thom and his bike to CRASH to the ground. The impact causes Thom to lose consciousness as Efrim walks menacingly towards him. FADE TO: EXT. ROADSIDE TREES - NIGHT Thom awakens in the back of a pick-up truck with a rope around his neck. The mounted head-lights on the truck paint the area in blinding yellow light. THOM Oh Jesus.... HELP ME! FUCK PLEASE HELP ME! The rope forms a noose that wraps over one of the trees branches and ties securely to the tow-bar of the truck. Efrim sits behind the wheel with the drivers window open. EFRIM No ones gonna hear you! Was nice meeting you Thom. Efrim slams on the accelerator causing the rope to tighten and wrench Thom into the air; cutting off his air supply instantly. Thom struggles for a few seconds but his legs eventually stop writhing and he hangs; lifeless. Efrim reverses, causing the rope to slacken and Thoms corpse to collapse into the back of the truck. Efrim gets out of the truck, cuts Thoms body from the rope and opens the back, revealing the corpse that Thom found. He pulls Thom out and lets him collapse to the roadside. He bends over, retrieves the note from Thoms pocket and forces his dead fingers into a fist around it. EFRIM (CONTD) (Singing) Everything.... In its right place... FADE TO BLACK.