The Short Screenplay Challenge is a competition that challenges writers around the world to create short screenplays (5 pages max.) based on genre, location, and object assignments in 48 hours. Each writer will participate in at least 2 writing challenges and as many as 4 depending on how well they placed.
Fantasy/Hideout/Spear
KEEPERS OF THE GARDEN
Written by Erik Garkain
FADE IN:
EXT. DEEP FOREST, CAMP HIDEAWAY – DAY
The shick, shick, shick of a blade against wood. Curls of bark flick and spin onto the forest floor, pale brown husks among the dense undergrowth.
RUPERT (glowering teen with a black eye, recently busted eyebrow and arms littered with scars of recent self-harm) is crouched on a fallen stump in front of a crudely assembled wooden hut. He is using a well-worn knife to shape the tip of a straight branch into a spear. Behind him, a sapling bleeds where the branch has been cracked off.
Rupert stands and holds the deadly spear tip up against the sun. He shuffles it from hand to hand before bringing it to his shoulder and pitching it forward.
It hits, and stays, in a tree only a few metres away.
EXT. DEEP FOREST, HIGH ABOVE THE TREETOPS – DAY
Trees sway and murmur despite the clear skies. Far below, Rupert yells and crashes through the undergrowth. THWACK! A triumphant cry echoes. Something screams.
EXT. DEEP FOREST – DAY
Half-caught glimpses of woodland creatures scurry out of sight as Rupert follows his spear.
The spear is anchored to the grotesquely swollen trunk of an ancient Boab tree, blood trickling from an impaled FINCH. Red, teal and black-faced, its purple and yellow chest is ruptured as green wings flap in final death throes. Despite the bright plumage the colour drains away as its blood soaks into the flaking bark of the Boab.
EXT. DEEP FOREST – DAY
Half-caught glimpses of woodland creatures scurry out of sight as Rupert follows his spear.
The spear is anchored to the grotesquely swollen trunk of an ancient Boab tree, blood trickling from an impaled FINCH. Red, teal and black-faced, its purple and yellow chest is ruptured as green wings flap in final death throes. Despite the bright plumage the colour drains away as its blood soaks into the flaking bark of the Boab.
Rupert steps up to the finch, his hand on the spear, twisting.
RUPERT
(scowling)
How do you like it? Doesn’t feel good does it-
(his voice cracks)
-daddy?!
In a branch above, another rainbow finch dances, watching the scene below. It trills and Rupert falters, seeing it.
RUPERT (CONT’D)
Oh, I’m sorry!
(suddenly distraught)
I didn’t mean it!
Rupert pulls the spear, but the trunk is soft and spongy and it adheres to the flesh of both. The bark creaks but finally gives with a wet sucking noise and the bird releases. Rupert picks it up, cradling it in his hands.
High above, the finch’s mate twitters frantically.
EXT. DEEP FOREST, CAMP HIDEAWAY – DAY
Rupert settles the dead bird beside him underneath the shelter of his hut. He lays down next to it and sobs quietly, stroking one finger down its small head.
EXT. DEEP FOREST, CAMP HIDEAWAY – NIGHT
Rupert wakes with a start. He scrambles to his feet and climbs out from his hut. The moon is full and bright in the clear sky.
RUPERT
Oh, shit.
But Rupert knows the way out. Except the trees are thicker and more tangled under the cover of darkness. Night-time creatures sing, cry and moan.
A branch brushes against Rupert’s arm, wrapping around his wrist, leaves flattening against his skin, gripping him tight.
He attempts to dislodge the tree from his arm but as he does the branch transforms, slowly changing colour, softening to flesh. Branches now fingers, leaves now fingernails... restraining him.
Rupert yelps and rips away, the arm changing back, curled tendrils sprouting from the wooden flesh. A stray leaf descends slowly towards the ground.
The creature wavered somewhere between foliage and boy for a moment, then, FEY (treen, one arm torn at the elbow leaving jagged splinters, but otherwise a mirror image of Rupert), steps closer.
Rupert’s mouth opens and closes, unable to speak.
RUPERT
What? What are you?
FEY
You took my arm.
His voice is the rustle of the wind through the trees.
RUPERT
I-
Fey, with his remaining arm, raises the forgotten spear. Rupert stared at Fey’s arm – littered with scars, like his own, but they were carved like the whorls of an ancient tree – beautiful.
RUPERT
That’s not your arm! That’s just a stupid branch.
FEY
I am not a stupid branch.
RUPERT
But I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know!
FEY
(head cocked)
Your actions proved otherwise.
RUPERT
I’m sorry!
FEY
Blood for blood. It’s the only way.
Fey’s arm shoots out, extending like a fast-growing vine, but it slows and caresses his bruised eye. The loops and whorls fill with sap and mimicking the bleeding of a freshly cut wound. Sap spatters Rupert’s shoulder.
RUPERT
Me? Mine? What?
FEY
No. Why have you brought your pain here?
The word pain is the sound of a tree branch snapping. It is close and startles Rupert enough to make him shrink away.
RUPERT
I’m sorry. My dad, he was- I’m going to be in trouble! I’m sorry. I was upset. I didn’t mean-
He stops. His voice as he says it aloud morphs into an older huskier adult man voice. Familiar.
RUPERT (CONT’D)
I am sorry.
(weakly)
Please.
Fey’s face mirrors Rupert’s, but it’s harder, less forgiving. His arm, still on Rupert, fades and disappears back into the foliage where it had come and slowly, so does the rest of him. His voice: whispers of shuffling leaves in a gentle breeze.
FEY (O/S)
Make it right. You need to make it right or it will be you. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow – you will not be at peace…
INT. CABIN AT THE EDGE OF THE FOREST – NIGHT
Snoring, Rupert’s FATHER (beer-bellied in a stained white singlet), sits slumped in a well-worn recliner.
Rupert stands in the doorway, the light from outside not lifting the shadows from the cramped room. The spear feels light in his grip. Powerful.
He steps forward, raises the spear, and points it towards the sleeping man.
RUPERT
(resigning)
I can’t.
The Man blinks awake.
FATHER
What’s that Boy?
Rupert gasps and desperately attempts to hide the spear, but his Father is rising.
And Rupert is fleeing.
EXT. CABIN AT THE EDGE OF THE FOREST – AFTERNOON
Rupert stumbles in his panic to get away from his pursuer. The spear is wrestled from his grip.
RUPERT
Please, no.
FATHER
You made this? What were you going to do? Stick me through the heart while I was sleeping? You man enough for that?!
He prods the spear against Rupert’s chest. Prodding again. Deeper. Digging into his flesh.
FATHER (CON’T)
Coward!
Rupert scrambles up, away from the deadly point. He gets to his feet and turns advancing on the edge of the forest.
The forest is within reach. He’s almost within its safety but his Father is coming. Heavy breathing right behind him. The spear hits him, like a slug to the side of the head. He drops, stumbling, tumbling. Stops.
DARKNESS.
Muffled sobbing.
FATHER (O/S)
(echoes)
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.
A hand, reaching out from the tendrils of darkness.
RUPERT
(scowling)
How do you like it? Doesn’t feel good does it-
(his voice cracks)
-daddy?!
In a branch above, another rainbow finch dances, watching the scene below. It trills and Rupert falters, seeing it.
RUPERT (CONT’D)
Oh, I’m sorry!
(suddenly distraught)
I didn’t mean it!
Rupert pulls the spear, but the trunk is soft and spongy and it adheres to the flesh of both. The bark creaks but finally gives with a wet sucking noise and the bird releases. Rupert picks it up, cradling it in his hands.
High above, the finch’s mate twitters frantically.
EXT. DEEP FOREST, CAMP HIDEAWAY – DAY
Rupert settles the dead bird beside him underneath the shelter of his hut. He lays down next to it and sobs quietly, stroking one finger down its small head.
EXT. DEEP FOREST, CAMP HIDEAWAY – NIGHT
Rupert wakes with a start. He scrambles to his feet and climbs out from his hut. The moon is full and bright in the clear sky.
RUPERT
Oh, shit.
But Rupert knows the way out. Except the trees are thicker and more tangled under the cover of darkness. Night-time creatures sing, cry and moan.
A branch brushes against Rupert’s arm, wrapping around his wrist, leaves flattening against his skin, gripping him tight.
He attempts to dislodge the tree from his arm but as he does the branch transforms, slowly changing colour, softening to flesh. Branches now fingers, leaves now fingernails... restraining him.
Rupert yelps and rips away, the arm changing back, curled tendrils sprouting from the wooden flesh. A stray leaf descends slowly towards the ground.
The creature wavered somewhere between foliage and boy for a moment, then, FEY (treen, one arm torn at the elbow leaving jagged splinters, but otherwise a mirror image of Rupert), steps closer.
Rupert’s mouth opens and closes, unable to speak.
RUPERT
What? What are you?
FEY
You took my arm.
His voice is the rustle of the wind through the trees.
RUPERT
I-
Fey, with his remaining arm, raises the forgotten spear. Rupert stared at Fey’s arm – littered with scars, like his own, but they were carved like the whorls of an ancient tree – beautiful.
RUPERT
That’s not your arm! That’s just a stupid branch.
FEY
I am not a stupid branch.
RUPERT
But I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know!
FEY
(head cocked)
Your actions proved otherwise.
RUPERT
I’m sorry!
FEY
Blood for blood. It’s the only way.
Fey’s arm shoots out, extending like a fast-growing vine, but it slows and caresses his bruised eye. The loops and whorls fill with sap and mimicking the bleeding of a freshly cut wound. Sap spatters Rupert’s shoulder.
RUPERT
Me? Mine? What?
FEY
No. Why have you brought your pain here?
The word pain is the sound of a tree branch snapping. It is close and startles Rupert enough to make him shrink away.
RUPERT
I’m sorry. My dad, he was- I’m going to be in trouble! I’m sorry. I was upset. I didn’t mean-
He stops. His voice as he says it aloud morphs into an older huskier adult man voice. Familiar.
RUPERT (CONT’D)
I am sorry.
(weakly)
Please.
Fey’s face mirrors Rupert’s, but it’s harder, less forgiving. His arm, still on Rupert, fades and disappears back into the foliage where it had come and slowly, so does the rest of him. His voice: whispers of shuffling leaves in a gentle breeze.
FEY (O/S)
Make it right. You need to make it right or it will be you. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow – you will not be at peace…
INT. CABIN AT THE EDGE OF THE FOREST – NIGHT
Snoring, Rupert’s FATHER (beer-bellied in a stained white singlet), sits slumped in a well-worn recliner.
Rupert stands in the doorway, the light from outside not lifting the shadows from the cramped room. The spear feels light in his grip. Powerful.
He steps forward, raises the spear, and points it towards the sleeping man.
RUPERT
(resigning)
I can’t.
The Man blinks awake.
FATHER
What’s that Boy?
Rupert gasps and desperately attempts to hide the spear, but his Father is rising.
And Rupert is fleeing.
EXT. CABIN AT THE EDGE OF THE FOREST – AFTERNOON
Rupert stumbles in his panic to get away from his pursuer. The spear is wrestled from his grip.
RUPERT
Please, no.
FATHER
You made this? What were you going to do? Stick me through the heart while I was sleeping? You man enough for that?!
He prods the spear against Rupert’s chest. Prodding again. Deeper. Digging into his flesh.
FATHER (CON’T)
Coward!
Rupert scrambles up, away from the deadly point. He gets to his feet and turns advancing on the edge of the forest.
The forest is within reach. He’s almost within its safety but his Father is coming. Heavy breathing right behind him. The spear hits him, like a slug to the side of the head. He drops, stumbling, tumbling. Stops.
DARKNESS.
Muffled sobbing.
FATHER (O/S)
(echoes)
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.
A hand, reaching out from the tendrils of darkness.
FEY
That’s enough. Come.
FADE OUT.
That’s enough. Come.
FADE OUT.
THE END.
Judges Feedback:
''Keepers of the Garden'' by Erik Garkain - WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY - {2035} The scene with the finch just broke my heart. You did such a good job showing the way Rupert's father turned Rupert into an angry boy who lashed out when he felt small. The way he sobbed, stroking the dead finch's head was absolutely gutting. I think your last scene with the father echoing Rupert's words was made even more powerful because of the depth of Rupert's grief over the bird. {2022} Your visual storytelling is stellar, especially in the very first scene. Pairing Rupert carving the piece of wood with the sight of his arm (which he has also carved/ self-harmed) is powerful without anything needed to be said. {1943} You created a very strong, mysterious and unsettling tone with this script. Rupert was a well developed and compelling character. You portrayed his torment and emotions very skillfully. The transformation as he faced Fey was very disturbing - I would love to see this play out on screen. A great ending, seeing the father's diabolical character was a strong choice. I liked the way he echoed Rupert's words. Very well done.
WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK - {2035} The only character who confused me was Fey. I know he was a creature from the forest who kind of embodied the spirit of the woods, but his motivation in the final scene threw me for a loop. Rupert lashed out, but was hurting; what was the reason Fey wanted Rupert's blood, rather than looking at the bigger picture of the father? Maybe there was no point, but I think that exploring Fey's character or attitude a little more thoroughly in that Fey-Rupert scene might make his decisions more clear at the end. {2022} I got lost on page 4. What Fey threatens to do to Rupert or what he wants Rupert to do for him as compensation was not clear to me. {1943} The nighttime scene when the tree grabs Rupert and Fey appears was a little challenging to follow. As the tree that grabbed him was Fey, I would introduce Fey at the start, such as "A branch brushes against Rupert’s arm, wrapping around his wrist, leaves flattening against his skin, gripping him tight. This is FEY, a treen...." It would then be helpful to describe what a "treen" is, before describing the transformation.
I have no excuses :-P except... I frequently mix tenses when I don't properly proofread (and even when I do). Poor time management with this script - I thought I had an extra day and got mixed up with the timezones, had to cram in rough edits and send it in half done. Super chuffed with the positive feedback and not surprised with the constructive stuff. I might just rework this script :-)
