Title: The MPF Files

Season 1: Calamity Gulch

Entry #004: The Predator

Ellie Vance, Personal Log. November 3rd.

The hunt is over. Now we're the ones being hunted.

No one slept last night. We've barricaded the main door of the boarding house, but it feels like putting a sticking plaster on a shark bite. The air is thick with a fear I've never experienced on a case. This isn't the melancholic chill of a lingering spirit; this is the primal, electric terror of being watched by a predator.

The team is fracturing under the pressure. Chad is wired, pacing with a heavy Maglite in his hand. He's dubbed our visitor "The Growler" and is convinced it's Silas - the powerful, dangerous entity Matilda warned us about. He wants to set a trap, go on the offensive.

Kevin disagrees. He managed to capture a fragment of the growl before the... other sounds. He spent hours analysing it. The frequency, he says, is all wrong for a typical manifestation. It's too deep, too complex. Too biological. He thinks we're dealing with two separate things: the ghosts of the town, and something else entirely.

I'm with Kevin. The fear I felt from Matilda wasn't a warning about a monster in her midst. It was a plea to protect a child from something outside. We need to understand who Silas is, and fast. Today, we're going to the one place a child's story might still be told. We're going to the schoolhouse.

AUDIO-VISUAL LOG: CG-AV-005

TRANSCRIPT

[SCENE START]

INT. BOARDING HOUSE - SECONDS AFTER EPISODE 3

The room is plunged into darkness and stunned silence.

CHAD

(A harsh whisper)

Kev! The recorder!

KEVIN

(Fumbling with his gear)

I'm on it, I'm on it! Bugger it!

(A heavy, dragging sound from the far corner of the room. It’s punctuated by a sharp, violent SPLINTERING of wood.)

(Ellie flinches, her eyes wide, staring into the darkness.)

(Chad clicks on a heavy Maglite, its powerful beam cutting through the dust. He sweeps the room, corner to corner. The beam lands on the floorboards.)

CHAD

My God...

(The beam illuminates three deep, parallel GOUGES, each a foot long, torn into the thick oak floor. They are raw, jagged, and splintered.)

KEVIN

(Kneeling, not touching)

They're fresh. The wood is still split. Whatever did this... it has claws. And weight.

[SCENE JUMPS FORWARD]

INT. SCHOOLHOUSE - DAY

The team moves with a new, tense caution. Chad takes point, using his Maglite even in the daylight to sweep the dark corners. Kevin’s movements are sharp, almost bird-like, as he sets up his equipment.

ELLIE

(Running a hand over a dusty desk)

It's so quiet in here. Peaceful, almost.

KEVIN

Don't say that. That's what people in horror movies say right before something grabs them. K2 meter is flat.

(Ellie moves through the rows of desks, her hand hovering over each one. She stops at a small desk in the back corner.)

ELLIE

This one. It's freezing.

(Kevin points his temp gun. The display reads 3.8°C. He whistles softly.)

(Ellie sits at the desk. Her face pales.)

ELLIE

It’s not anger... it's just... sad. So incredibly lonely.

(She places a small digital recorder on the desk and hits record. They stand in silence for a full minute. She stops the recording and plays it back. For ten seconds, there is only the sound of their breathing. Then, underneath it, so faint it's almost imaginary, a child's whisper.)

RECORDER VOICE

...alone...

(While Chad and Ellie are focused on the recorder, Kevin finds a rotted wooden box under the teacher's desk. He pries it open. It's full of old school records.)

KEVIN

Hey, found something. Class roster from... 1892.

(He pulls out a yellowed piece of paper. The names are written in elegant, fading copperplate.)

CHAD

Any Gables on there?

KEVIN

No. But... hang on. There's a Silas. Silas... Croft.

(Ellie looks up sharply.)

ELLIE

Croft? Clarence Croft was the town's assayer. Matilda lied.

(As the implication of the lie hangs in the air, a low HUM starts to emanate from Kevin's backpack. He pulls out his spectrum analyser. A deep, bass frequency is pulsing on the screen.)

KEVIN

What the hell? That's not a ghost frequency. That's the Deep Noise. It's close.

(Ellie is drawn to the grimy schoolhouse window. She peers out, her eyes adjusting to the grey afternoon light. She sees a flicker of movement up the gulch, near the dark, gaping entrance to the North Star Mine.)

(It's tall. Impossibly thin. A silhouette that moves with a jerking, unnatural gait.)

ELLIE

(Her voice trembling)

Oh my God...

CHAD

What? What is it?

ELLIE

Silas isn't the monster. He's the bait. And we just rang the dinner bell.

[END OF TRANSCRIPT]