"BATTLE OF THE BEINGS" By Desiree Sims
Genre: Dark Fantasy / Sci-Fi / Action Rating: PG-13 / R Tone: Dark, Epic, Mysterious Setting: An ancient battlefield torn between dimensions — part haunted forest, part twisted future city, part mirror realm. CAST OF CHARACTERS (Beings): Walking Cyborg – Half-machine, half-revenant. Fires plasma from his limbs. Logical and ruthless. WoodEye – Tree-humanoid hybrid with roots for legs and a glowing wooden eye that controls nature. Sammie – A shadowy child-like being who manipulates illusions and steals voices that lives inside a ninja samurai Ophelia – A ghostly wraith queen with control over wind and sorrow. Necra – Necromancer's fallen sister, reborn from black magic. Commands spirits. Chaos – Living embodiment of entropy. Every step distorts reality. House – A sentient, walking haunted house. Rooms within are endless death traps. Shattered – Made of broken mirrors; attacks reflect your own worst fears. Risen – An undead warlord who cannot die unless by his own blade. Necromancer – Master of death. Raises armies from the soil with a whisper. Root – Underground dweller, can control all below earth: roots, bones, and stone. Clocker – Manipulates time but is aging backward. A ticking time paradox. Wall – An immovable force, living fortress. Shield of the battlefield. Glass – Crystalized being with razor edge shards and light-bending stealth. Cards – A trickster who uses enchanted tarot cards to cast fate-based attacks.
TITLE: BATTLE OF THE BEINGS
GENRE: Dark Fantasy / Sci-Fi / Halloween Epic
RATING: PG-13 / R
SETTING: An ancient battlefield torn between dimensions — part haunted forest, part twisted future city, part mirror realm.
ACT I — THE OMEN
INT. ABANDONED CHURCH – NIGHT
Thunder shakes the crumbling rafters. Rain pours through shattered stained-glass windows. Five HUMANS huddle together:
MARA (30s, historian): studying ancient carvings on the wall.
JAY (20s, hacker): furiously typing on a glitching tablet.
AMY (20s, believer): whispering prayers, clutching a handmade charm.
BEN (40s, skeptic): arms crossed, unimpressed.
LUCY (11, child): drawing strange shapes in the dust.
AMY
(whispering)
This place… it’s not just old. It’s watching us.
BEN
Yeah, same way my mortgage watches me. Quietly. And with mold.
The GROUND RUMBLES. The floorboards split. Faint humming rises beneath them.
MARA
(terrified)
That’s… that’s not thunder.
The STAINED-GLASS SHATTERS OUTWARD. Lightning floods the church. A tear in the sky opens.
EXT. INTERDIMENSIONAL BATTLEFIELD – CONTINUOUS
The storm spirals into a glowing vortex. At its center, the TREE OF ORIGIN cracks with ethereal light. PORTALS tear open around it.
ONE BY ONE, THEY ARRIVE:
WALKING CYBORG stomps through sparks, plasma glowing in his veins.
WOODEYE rises from the roots, a glowing wooden eye burning green.
SAMMIE crawls from shadow, humming a broken lullaby.
OPHELIA drifts down in a veil of sorrow.
NECRA steps from black flames, skeletal armor shifting.
CHAOS flickers into existence, body glitching like static.
HOUSE stomps forward — a sentient mansion on stilts, doors screaming.
SHATTERED assembles from shards of broken mirrors.
RISEN emerges, undead warlord dragging a cursed blade.
NECROMANCER whispers, and skeletal arms crawl up around him.
ROOT bursts from the ground, commanding earth and bone.
CLOCKER stumbles backward, his body aging in reverse with each step.
WALL rumbles into being, stone and steel fused into a fortress.
GLASS forms from shimmering crystal, body sharp as razors.
CARDS steps from a massive floating tarot, smirking.
CARDS
(to all)
The throne of Halloween lies vacant.
One night. One winner.
Let the world be remade.
CHAOS
(distorted, laughing)
Order dies tonight.
ACT II — WAR CRIES
INT. CHURCH – SAME NIGHT
The humans press to the broken windows, horrified.
JAY
(voice shaking)
Did we just… open a portal to Hell?
LUCY
(calm, entranced)
No. Hell came looking for someone new to wear the crown.
EXT. BATTLEFIELD – FIRST STRIKES
The Beings clash in terrifying duels:
Walking Cyborg fires plasma blasts at Root, who answers with stone pillars and writhing tree roots. Sparks and earth COLLIDE.
Necra and Necromancer summon armies of spirits in a sibling blood-feud.
Ophelia wails, her sorrow a sonic wave. Sammie vanishes into shadow to escape it.
Shattered reflects the scream at Chaos, who bends it like a ribbon and laughs.
Clocker rewinds mid-battle, appearing behind opponents, younger with each move.
Wall shields against a swarm of skeletal soldiers, holding like a fortress.
Glass splits into a thousand blades, striking in all directions.
House grows, sprouting endless hallways, trapping fighters inside.
The night becomes a storm of power, fear, and chaos.
INT. CHURCH – NIGHT
The child, LUCY, whispers:
LUCY
They don’t just want a throne…
They want Halloween itself.
Whoever wins… decides what the world fears.
The group falls silent as the battlefield rages outside.
FADE OUT.
ACT II — WAR CRIES (EXPANDED)
EXT. INTERDIMENSIONAL BATTLEFIELD – NIGHT
The battlefield splinters into zones of terror as the Beings engage.
DUEL 1: WALKING CYBORG vs. ROOT
Plasma cannons roar from Walking Cyborg’s arms, searing the ground.
Root counters, summoning tangled roots that whip like serpents, tearing at metal.
WALKING CYBORG
(calm, mechanical)
Organic matter is obsolete.
ROOT
(grinding voice)
Yet it always reclaims the dead.
Cyborg’s arm transforms into a plasma blade, slicing through roots — but the cut wood grows back instantly, thorns digging into his armor.
DUEL 2: NECROMANCER vs. NECRA
Brother and sister face each other in swirling black fire. Skeletal armies rise, clashing in a storm of bone.
NECRA
(venomous)
You stole my death. Now I’ll take yours.
NECROMANCER
(icy calm)
I command death. Yours. Mine. All.
They unleash dueling shockwaves of necrotic energy — the battlefield itself screams as the dead rise and fall in a loop.
DUEL 3: OPHELIA vs. SAMMIE
Ophelia sings, her voice a mournful dirge. The wind howls, twisting into spectral blades.
Sammie giggles, stealing the echoes of her song, repeating them back in mocking whispers.
SAMMIE
(childlike)
Your sorrow tastes sweet. Want mine?
Her body splits into shadows, circling Ophelia, who unleashes a cyclone of grief. Sammie is flung across the field, but reforms with a child’s laughter.
DUEL 4: SHATTERED vs. GLASS
A mirror battlefield forms. Shattered’s body fractures into countless shards, reflecting distorted versions of opponents.
Glass splits herself into crystalline clones, refracting light into deadly beams.
Their attacks meet in a blinding cascade, enemies forced to cover their eyes as screams echo. The two beings fight in silence, their weapons nothing but reflections of each other.
DUEL 5: WALL vs. RISEN
Wall stands like a fortress, immovable, shielding parts of the battlefield.
Risen, armored in decay, slams into him with a cursed blade. Sparks fly.
RISEN
(roaring)
All walls fall.
WALL
(booming)
Not this one.
Risen hacks relentlessly, each strike fueled by undead rage. Wall cracks but refuses to move.
DUEL 6: CLOCKER vs. CHAOS
Time itself bends. Clocker freezes moments, stepping backward through them.
But Chaos warps reality, making clocks melt and stars flicker like broken bulbs.
CLOCKER
(panicked)
You’re breaking the gears!
CHAOS
(grinning)
I don’t break. I unmake.
They vanish in bursts of distortion, appearing in fragmented glimpses — one second a battlefield, the next a void.
DUEL 7: HOUSE vs. ALL
House expands suddenly, windows glowing red. Fighters are sucked into endless corridors.
Inside, Sammie wanders through a hallway of mirrors, chased by versions of herself.
Root is trapped in a room where the floor is all bone.
Walking Cyborg is lured into a boiler room filled with living machinery.
HOUSE
(voices from all directions)
Welcome home. Stay… forever.
The humans, watching from the church, see the House growing larger, swallowing parts of the battlefield whole.
EXT. BATTLEFIELD – CHAOS WIDENS
The Beings regroup, their fights spilling into one another:
Ophelia’s winds crash into Necromancer’s undead armies, scattering skeletons.
Glass shatters part of Wall’s armor, but he re-forms like stone resetting.
Clocker tries to rewind Risen’s strikes, but Risen’s cursed blade cuts across timelines.
Cards steps forward, throwing a tarot card that splits into dozens, each altering reality: one slows time, one ignites fire, another reverses victories into defeats.
CARDS
(amused)
Fate doesn’t play fair. Neither do I.
The throne of Halloween flickers into view above the battlefield, pulsing with black fire.
The humans watch in horror, realizing the Beings’ war is far from over.
FADE OUT.
ACT II — ESCALATION OF CHAOS
EXT. INTERDIMENSIONAL BATTLEFIELD – NIGHT
The battlefield groans under the strain of magic, steel, and entropy.
The Beings begin to form temporary alliances — survival demanding strategy.
ALLIANCE 1: WALKING CYBORG + GLASS
Walking Cyborg recalibrates, his HUD scanning opponents.
Glass reforms beside him, shimmering like a living arsenal.
WALKING CYBORG
(cold, precise)
Logic dictates an alliance. Temporary.
GLASS
(voice like cutting crystal)
Until one of us cuts the other.
Together, they launch a synchronized attack: plasma beams refract off Glass’s shards, multiplying into a deadly rain of light.
Targets: Root and Ophelia.
ALLIANCE 2: ROOT + OPHELIA
Root anchors himself, vines spiraling up to shield them.
Ophelia’s winds bend the plasma storm, turning light into a cyclone that slices through the ground.
OPHELIA
(sorrowful, resolute)
Even grief can shield life.
ROOT
(growling)
And life endures through decay.
The clash sends a maelstrom of light and vines tearing across the field.
BETRAYAL: NECROMANCER + NECRA
For a fleeting moment, brother and sister fight side by side, their undead legions fusing into a tide of skeletal horrors.
Then Necromancer betrays her — whispering one forbidden word.
Her own soldiers turn on Necra, dragging her into the soil.
NECRA
(screaming)
Brother! You swore—
NECROMANCER
(whisper, pitiless)
I swore only to death.
She vanishes beneath the earth, leaving him standing taller, armies swelling.
CHAOS VS. CLOCKER – THE UNSTABLE TRUCE
Clocker slows Chaos’s distortions for a heartbeat. The two lock eyes.
CLOCKER
(urgent)
If reality collapses, no throne remains.
CHAOS
(smiling, warped)
Then let’s tear it slower. Together.
For a breath, entropy and time align — freezing the battlefield into a fractured still frame. Beings struggle inside it like flies in amber.
Then Cards flicks a tarot card that shatters the moment, freeing them all.
CARDS
(mocking)
Never trust the deck to hold still.
HOUSE + SHATTERED
The sentient House groans, corridors stretching.
Inside its windows, Shattered’s mirror faces gleam, multiplying fear into infinity.
HOUSE
(thunderous whisper)
Rooms of terror…
SHATTERED
(fragments of voices)
…and no exits.
Together, they drag entire opponents into mirrored halls where every reflection fights back. Sammie screams from within, trapped in endless versions of herself.
THE HUMANS WATCHING
From the ruined church, the humans tremble. The stained-glass frames the battlefield like a living painting of apocalypse.
MARA
(voice breaking)
This isn’t a battle. It’s… creation tearing itself apart.
LUCY
(softly)
And it won’t stop until one rules.
The child’s voice echoes strangely, almost as if the Beings can hear her.
CROSSOVER BATTLE – FULL COLLAPSE
The alliances collapse into betrayal:
Walking Cyborg turns his plasma on Glass, severing one of her crystalline arms.
Ophelia abandons Root, letting his vines take the brunt of Chaos’s entropy.
Necromancer’s undead swarm both allies and enemies, indiscriminate.
Cards flips “The Tower” — lightning splits the battlefield, casting House and Wall into separate dimensions.
Clocker screams as his body rewinds into adolescence, his power slipping.
The throne above pulses brighter, sensing midnight’s approach.
EXT. BATTLEFIELD – WIDE SHOT
The battlefield is no longer recognizable — part forest, part city ruins, part mirror maze.
Reality bends, the veil between worlds flickering.
The Beings roar, clash, betray, and reform alliances in a storm of unimaginable fury.
FADE OUT.
ACT II — BETRAYALS DEEPEN
EXT. INTERDIMENSIONAL BATTLEFIELD – NIGHT
The ground shakes as alliances collapse and destructive combos ignite across the fractured realm.
COMBO 1: CHAOS + NECROMANCER
For a fleeting moment, Chaos and Necromancer synchronize.
Necromancer raises skeletal armies from the ground.
Chaos corrupts them with entropy, warping their bones into writhing abominations.
They surge like a living plague across the battlefield.
OPHELIA
(horrified)
You twist grief into filth!
She unleashes a scream that shatters half the horde, but the abominations keep crawling.
BETRAYAL: CARDS STRIKES ALLIES
Cards pretends to aid Ophelia, drawing The Lovers.
Twin specters appear, shielding her.
Then he flips The Devil.
The twins turn, choking her with chains of fate.
CARDS
(smiling)
Love and betrayal — two sides of the same draw.
Ophelia collapses, struggling to break free.
COMBO 2: GLASS + WOODEYE (TEMPORARY)
Glass hurls a storm of razor shards.
WoodEye bends vines to catch and fling them like arrows, multiplying their speed.
The attack slams into Wall, cutting deep cracks across his fortress body.
WALL
(grim)
Stone may crack… but never kneels.
With a roar, he smashes the vines, sending shockwaves that scatter both allies.
BETRAYAL: RISEN TURNS ON WALL
Sensing weakness, Risen charges Wall. His cursed blade strikes the cracks, splitting Wall nearly in two.
RISEN
(triumphant)
No fortress stands forever.
Wall groans, staggering — but does not fall.
COMBO 3: SHATTERED + HOUSE
Shattered lures Sammie into a mirror dimension inside House.
Every reflection of Sammie attacks her at once — laughing, singing, screaming.
SAMMIE
(panicked, childlike)
Stop! I’m the only me!
But House locks the doors, and Shattered multiplies the nightmare until her voice disappears entirely.
BETRAYAL: WALKING CYBORG SEVERS THE TRUCE
Walking Cyborg had fought alongside Glass… until now.
He grabs her by the neck, plasma blade glowing.
WALKING CYBORG
Emotion clouds efficiency.
He slices, shattering her torso into glittering shards. She screams, reforming in pieces.
GLASS
(vengeful hiss)
And logic… cuts both ways.
She explodes into a thousand flying daggers, embedding in his cybernetic frame. Sparks fly.
COMBO 4: CLOCKER’S LAST GAMBIT
Now visibly a teenager, Clocker slams his hands together. Time around the battlefield reverses one full minute.
Everyone’s attacks replay — betrayals undone, alliances reset.
But Chaos twists it.
Instead of rewinding cleanly, every Being sees two versions of themselves, past and present, both fighting independently.
The battlefield doubles into madness.
CHAOS
(delighted)
Now that’s a party.
EXT. BATTLEFIELD – WIDE
Two Ophelias scream in harmony, shattering the sky.
Two Risen clash, one with fresh fury, one already blood-soaked.
Cards plays against himself, flipping futures into contradictions.
Necromancer commands both his past and present armies — and they start fighting each other.
The battlefield is pure insanity — a kaleidoscope of betrayal, duplication, and destructive combo attacks that tear at the fabric of reality itself.
The throne above flickers violently, feeding off the chaos, glowing brighter with each betrayal.
FADE OUT.
ACT II — THE FINAL ROUND OF BETRAYALS
EXT. INTERDIMENSIONAL BATTLEFIELD – CONTINUOUS
The doubled battlefield writhes with contradictions. Beings clash with their own echoes — and then turn on their so-called allies with vicious precision.
COMBO 5: NECROMANCER + RISEN
The two darkest warriors unite.
Necromancer rips souls out of fallen echoes.
Risen binds them into his cursed blade.
The sword becomes a screaming storm of lost lives, its strikes sundering both flesh and spirit.
RISEN
(taunting)
Even death serves me now.
He cleaves through half of Necromancer’s own army — while Necromancer laughs, delighted at the carnage.
BETRAYAL: HOUSE DEVOURS SHATTERED
The mirrored maze collapses as House turns on his partner.
Doors slam shut. The walls melt into black ichor, swallowing the fractured shards of Shattered piece by piece.
SHATTERED
(panicked, glitching)
We… were… one—
HOUSE
(flat, merciless)
You were a guest. Now you’re furniture.
A last shard of glass screams as it’s absorbed into the endless corridors.
COMBO 6: OPHELIA + GLASS (VENGEFUL)
Reforming from shards, Glass fuses with Ophelia’s sound waves.
Ophelia screams.
The sound refracts through thousands of razor fragments.
The battlefield fills with vibrating blades of pure sound and glass — slicing indiscriminately through friend and foe.
WALL
(grunting as cracks widen)
The music of ruin…
BETRAYAL: CARDS OUTSMARTS HIMSELF
The two Cards face off. One pulls The Fool, the other Death.
Instead of fighting, they merge decks into a blinding spiral of infinite draws.
Then — a sudden reversal.
One Card stabs the other in the back with his own deck, scattering fate like blood.
CARDS
(smiling through blood)
Only one destiny deserves the throne.
COMBO 7: WALKING CYBORG + CLOCKER
Walking Cyborg seizes the weakened Clocker.
Cyborg channels temporal energy through his circuits.
Clocker screams as his aging accelerates and rewinds simultaneously.
He flickers between child, teen, elder — collapsing under the paradox.
WALKING CYBORG
Efficiency restored.
Cyborg rips Clocker’s core and loads it into his arm cannon, weaponizing time itself.
BETRAYAL: CHAOS TURNS ON EVERYONE
At last, Chaos spreads his hands.
Every duplicate, every combo, every betrayal — he pulls them into himself.
The echoes scream as they’re consumed.
The battlefield shrinks, folding into a singularity of madness.
CHAOS
(roaring, exultant)
Mine! All ruin is mine!
But even Chaos can’t contain it all. His body warps, fractures, and begins to collapse into a black spiral.
EXT. BATTLEFIELD – WIDE
Half the Beings are consumed.
The other half are shredded by overlapping betrayals.
The throne above blazes with impossible light, cracks spreading as though the realm itself is about to shatter.
The Beings — what’s left of them — realize too late that their lust for power has destabilized the entire battlefield.
The ground begins to split open into the void.
FADE OUT.
ACT II — CLIMAX: THE COLLAPSE
EXT. INTERDIMENSIONAL BATTLEFIELD – NIGHT
The throne pulses violently overhead.
The ground is cracked wide open, exposing endless void beneath.
Every betrayal, every combo attack has ripped the realm past repair.
CHAOS IMPLOSION
Chaos convulses as the duplications, betrayals, and energies collapse inside him.
His form fractures into storms of pure entropy that lash out in every direction.
Wall crumbles to gravel under a wave of decay.
Necromancer’s blade screams as the bound souls are torn free, scattering like sparks.
Ophelia falls silent, her throat shredded by her own amplified glass-screams.
CHAOS
(voice splintered in ten directions)
There is… only… END.
The battlefield itself bends inward, sucked toward the collapsing core.
THE THRONE CRACKS
Above, the Throne of Sovereignty glows too brightly, cracks racing across its surface.
Every Being still standing feels its pull — the promise of ultimate power burning just out of reach.
RISEN
(half-mad, reaching upward)
Mine! Even if the world dies — I will ascend!
He leaps, using the void as a springboard.
Others lunge too — Cards, House, even Walking Cyborg with his time-cannon.
They collide midair, shredding each other in desperation.
THE COLLAPSE BEGINS
The throne explodes into a crown of light shards, each shard burning with a different color of ruin.
The realm cannot hold.
Skies rip open.
The ground falls away in chunks, pulled into a spiraling black abyss.
Survivors claw at anything solid — but nothing is stable.
THE HUMANS ARRIVE
Just as the void yawns to swallow all, a searing beam of light cuts through the storm.
Figures emerge on the edge of the collapsing battlefield:
Humans. Armed. Prepared. Unafraid.
Some carry relics glowing with ancient power, others bear weapons forged of steel and fire.
Their leader steps forward, eyes locked on the collapsing Beings.
HUMAN LEADER
(steady, defiant)
Your war ends here.
The Beings — bloody, fractured, desperate — turn toward them in stunned silence.
For the first time, fear flickers in their eyes.
FADE OUT.
ACT III — THE HUMANS FACE THE BEINGS
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
The air still crackles with collapsing energy.
Chunks of the battlefield drift like broken islands over the abyss.
The humans stand firm at the rift’s edge, light cutting through the storm.
The Beings turn, broken yet defiant.
DISBELIEF
Cards clutches his bleeding deck, laughing through blood.
CARDS
(panting, incredulous)
Children with sticks and stories… you think destiny bows to you?
He flips The Tower — showing them their ruin.
The humans don’t flinch.
MOCKERY
Walking Cyborg’s voice glitches, sparks flying from the cracks Glass carved in him.
WALKING CYBORG
(chuckling metallic)
Flesh against machine? Against time itself? You… are inefficiency embodied.
He raises his time-cannon — but doesn’t fire yet.
UNDERSTATEMENT
House leans forward, doors slamming and unlocking like laughter.
HOUSE
(whispering, sinister)
Do you know how many bones line my halls already? You’ll decorate them nicely.
He grins with a hundred windows full of teeth.
DENIAL
Risen, still reaching for the shards of the throne, snarls.
RISEN
(feral)
You don’t matter. This is between gods.
His sword drips spectral fire as he points it at the humans like they are insects.
SILENCE
And then — Chaos.
Now a fractured storm of entropy, barely humanoid, he stares at them.
No laughter. No mockery.
Just… hunger.
CHAOS
(low, warped)
More fuel.
The void howls louder, as though agreeing.
The humans do not move.
Their leader lowers their torch — not a weapon of steel, but of light older than the Beings themselves.
HUMAN LEADER
(calm, unwavering)
You’ve mistaken our silence for weakness.
The Beings recoil, unease creeping into their arrogance.
FADE OUT.
ACT III — THE VERBAL DUEL
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
The void eats away at the realm’s edges.
Chunks of floating stone circle like vultures.
The Beings stand battered but proud, the humans standing calm in their glow.
CARDS (contemptuous):
Your futures are already written — I hold them in my hand.
(shuffles the deck, slams a card down)
You are dust, forgotten before you even fall.
HUMAN SCHOLAR (steps forward):
Then you’ve misread the deck.
Fate doesn’t bow to cheats — it burns them.
WALKING CYBORG (snarling, glitching):
I have processed a thousand simulations.
None end with you alive.
HUMAN STRATEGIST (cool, smirking):
That’s because you’ve never fought anyone who refuses to play by code.
HOUSE (echoing whispers from every door):
Enter me, mortals.
I’ll cradle you in darkness, where even memory dies.
HUMAN WARRIOR (drawing a relic blade):
We’ve walked through darker halls than yours… and set fire to every one.
RISEN (furious, pointing sword):
You’re cattle straying into the slaughterhouse.
I’ll forge your souls into my steel.
HUMAN PRIESTESS (raising relic charm):
Try — and see your blade shatter on faith.
CHAOS (distorted, guttural):
I consume… all.
You are sparks, already fading.
HUMAN LEADER (steps forward, firm):
And yet, a spark can burn down eternity.
For a moment, silence.
The void howls.
The Beings stare — unsettled, for the first time.
CARDS (forced laugh, masking doubt):
Brave words. Hollow words.
Let’s see if you scream them as you fall.
The Beings begin circling, their fractured powers flickering like dying stars.
The humans ready themselves, glowing relics humming with restrained energy.
The storm pauses — just before the first blow lands.
FADE OUT.
ACT III — THE FIRST LASH
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
The circle holds.
Humans steady themselves, relics pulsing faintly.
The Beings loom, sneering, circling like predators.
WALKING CYBORG (snapping, impatient):
Enough theatrics. I’ll erase them in one motion.
His chest splits open — a cannon of molten plasma CHARGES with a rising WHINE.
He levels it at the humans.
WALKING CYBORG:
Goodbye, flesh.
He FIRES.
A blazing column of plasma tears across the battlefield — a sun’s breath, unstoppable.
But as the wave engulfs them —
The CHILD steps forward, relic amulet glowing.
The blast bends, curls, and dissipates like smoke meeting glass.
The humans stand unharmed.
WALKING CYBORG (staggering back, disbelieving):
—Impossible.
CARDS (mocking laugh):
Oh, genius machine… check your math again.
HOUSE (walls groaning in amusement):
A child undid your fire. Delicious.
The HUMANS don’t gloat.
They stand silent, resolute.
The glow around them flickers stronger, as if fed by the Beings’ disbelief.
HUMAN LEADER (quiet, firm):
We warned you.
You’ve never fought us.
The Beings exchange glances — mocking still, but less certain.
Even CHAOS tilts its shifting head, its flickering form twitching with curiosity.
The air tightens.
Another Being steps forward, teeth bared.
The war is about to ignite for real.
ACT III — THE GAUNTLET BEGINS
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
The silence hangs after Walking Cyborg’s failure.
Then — another voice cuts through.
SAMMIE (childlike giggle):
My turn.
Let’s play.
Shadows spill across the stones.
The humans’ voices vanish — stolen from their throats.
Sammie weaves illusions of their deepest fears: flames, drowned corpses, loved ones screaming.
The CHILD HUMAN lifts her relic amulet — the illusions ripple, flicker, then snap like torn cobwebs.
Sammie stumbles back, shrieking as the humans’ real voices return louder than before.
HUMAN CHILD (calm, firm):
You can’t steal what’s willingly given.
Sammie retreats, shaken.
GLASS (hissing, emerging next):
Shadows fail… but glass cuts always.
Her body splinters into a storm of blades, slicing through the air.
The humans brace — until the SCHOLAR raises a reflective relic plate.
Glass’s own shards bend in light, turning and slicing into her crystalline form.
Shards rain to the ground like broken chandeliers.
Glass gasps, reforming slowly.
SCHOLAR (measured):
Reflections only cut their maker.
WOODEYE (roaring, branches writhing):
Then let the roots consume you!
Roots explode from the earth, entangling legs, pulling the humans down.
But the BELIEVER clasps her charm, chanting.
The roots recoil as if burned, twisting back into the soil.
Woodeye’s glowing eye dims for a moment.
He staggers, bark cracking.
BELIEVER (steadfast):
The earth remembers who tended it before you.
SHATTERED (stepping forward, shards glinting):
Let them face their truest selves.
Mirrors form around the humans — showing grotesque, broken versions of their faces.
But the HACKER pulls a relic disc and shatters the mirrors with coded light.
Shattered reels as her own reflected horror bursts back onto her.
HACKER (smirking):
Your program’s corrupt.
Try debugging fear.
The Beings murmur among themselves.
Each attempt — broken.
Each power — countered.
NECROMANCER (finally, rising, voice like stone):
Enough parlor tricks.
The dead obey me.
The ground trembles, skeletal armies clawing upward — far greater than before.
The gauntlet has ended.
The war is about to erupt for real.
ACT III — NECROMANCER STRIKES
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
The ground SPLITS.
Thousands of skeletal hands claw upward — not frail bones but armored revenants, eyes lit with green fire.
The humans tighten formation, relics blazing — but the wave is too vast.
NECROMANCER (voice booming):
No relic, no prayer, no trick will deny death.
The world itself kneels to me.
With a gesture, he RIPS open the battlefield.
Tombs rise like towers, spitting forth legions.
Even the air tastes of rot and grave-dust.
The HUMANS fight back desperately:
The WARRIOR cuts through bone, relic blade glowing.
The SCHOLAR burns glyphs into the air, wards flaring.
The BELIEVER chants until her voice cracks, forcing revenants to hesitate.
The HACKER scrambles, sending arcs of digital light to scramble command.
The CHILD clutches her amulet, but the glow flickers, fading.
The dead swarm closer.
HUMAN WARRIOR (shouting):
We can’t hold this line!
SCHOLAR (panting):
Not against him.
A colossal REVENANT smashes through their defenses, slamming the ground.
The humans are hurled back, bruised, weapons nearly slipping from their hands.
The Necromancer lifts both arms — the sky darkens, moons eclipsing.
NECROMANCER:
Kneel.
Or join my army.
The HUMANS collapse into a desperate circle, relics dimming.
The CHILD, trembling, raises her amulet with the last spark of light.
It flares—just enough to BLIND the revenants for a breath.
The humans stumble free of the swarm, coughing, battered, barely upright.
The battlefield falls silent for a moment.
Even the Beings look uneasy.
For the first time — the humans are bloodied.
NECROMANCER (satisfied, to the others):
See? Their defiance dies as all things must.
Only I deserve the throne.
The other Beings bristle — some nodding, others snarling, not ready to concede.
The fragile tension teeters toward open chaos again.
ACT III — THE BETRAYAL
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
Necromancer stands tall, skeletal legions kneeling in grotesque formation.
His eyes blaze with victory.
NECROMANCER (to all):
Bow, or be buried.
The throne is mine.
The air vibrates with his arrogance.
Then — a LOW HUM begins to build.
CHAOS (distorted, stepping forward):
Mine…?
No.
Nothing belongs to anyone.
He slams a warped foot into the ground.
Reality tears.
The revenants implode into dust as entropy rips through their bindings.
Necromancer reels — but before he can recover—
CARDS (grinning, holding up a single glowing tarot):
Pulled the Tower.
Sorry, brother.
He flicks the card into the air.
It EXPLODES into spectral lightning, striking Necromancer square.
NECROMANCER (screaming, staggered):
—TRAITORS!
He falls to one knee, skeletal flames guttering.
His hold on the dead shatters; bones crumble across the battlefield.
The other Beings watch in cold amusement.
OPHELIA drifts forward, her voice like knives in the wind:
OPHELIA:
You raise armies, brother.
But sorrow conquers alone.
She unleashes a WAIL of grief that rattles Necromancer’s core.
His body fractures like porcelain — barely holding shape.
NECROMANCER (gasping, furious, to all):
You think you’ve broken me?
Death cannot be betrayed…
It only waits.
He collapses to the ground — not destroyed, but reduced, his power crippled.
The battlefield shifts.
With Necromancer humbled, the throne is wide open.
Every Being’s gaze burns with greed.
Even the battered humans sense it — the final storm is coming.
ACT III — THE FREE-FOR-ALL
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
Necromancer crumples, his army collapsing into dust.
The throne of spectral fire glows brighter, unclaimed.
The Beings SNAP.
Greed, rage, desperation — no alliances left.
CHAOS erupts first, stomping the ground.
The battlefield fractures, whole slabs of reality sliding like broken glass.
HOUSE lurches forward, doors gaping wide — pulling entire chunks of terrain into its endless halls.
Screams echo from inside, corridors devouring even stone.
RISEN charges with his cursed blade, cutting through what remains of Necromancer’s dust-army just to reach CARDS.
Cards laughs, flicking tarot one after another — The Sword, The Devil, The Fool — each slamming down as elemental bursts.
Risen staggers but keeps coming, blade glowing with his own undead essence.
SHATTERED shivers violently — her broken mirrors multiplying.
She reflects CHAOS’s entropy blasts back at random Beings, scattering destruction.
GLASS answers with a shriek, splitting into a crystalline storm that impales Shattered’s mirrors — the two beings trapped in an endless cycle of reflection and shattering.
WOODEYE rises to titanic size, roots lashing wildly.
He tangles HOUSE’s legs, trying to drag the monstrous structure down.
HOUSE counters by opening hundreds of doors at once — each door swallowing roots into infinite black.
The battlefield howls under the strain.
CLOCKER reappears, stepping backward into the chaos.
Time glitches — some Beings freeze mid-motion, others accelerate uncontrollably.
CLOCKER (younger now, voice cracking):
Tick-tock-tock-tick… the hour eats itself!
WALL plants himself in front of the throne — the only one not attacking, simply blocking.
Every blast, every strike, every chaotic ripple SLAMS against him… and fails.
His booming voice shakes the storm:
WALL:
None pass. None claim.
The throne burns higher.
The Beings tear into each other without mercy, the ground crumbling toward the void.
The humans, battered and hiding in the shadows, stare in awe and terror.
HUMAN CHILD (whispering):
They’ll destroy everything… and still, none of them will win.
The storm swells — the moment before the humans must act.
ACT III — THE COLLAPSE
EXT. COLLAPSING BATTLEFIELD – EDGE OF THE VOID
The throne burns, untouched.
The Beings’ war spirals into oblivion — their powers shredding the very fabric of the realm.
CHAOS slams his fists into the ground again.
Cracks race outward like lightning.
Chunks of stone lift into the sky, then fall into nothingness.
HOUSE topples as half its foundation slides into the void, rooms tearing away, echoing with fading screams.
CLOCKER stumbles, now a boy of ten, shouting through cracked time:
CLOCKER:
The clock breaks! Time devours us all!
A time-rift opens, sucking shattered landscapes into itself.
WALL groans, knees buckling as reality itself pushes against him.
Even he cannot hold the realm together.
WALL (straining):
The ground… is not enough.
The humans cling to each other, relics dim but steady.
They stumble as the world splits, stone turning to shards beneath their feet.
HUMAN SCHOLAR (yelling over the storm):
This isn’t a battlefield anymore — it’s a grave!
HUMAN LEADER (grim, resolute):
Then we fight in the grave.
The final break comes.
The battlefield COLLAPSES inward — Beings and humans dragged together, slammed down onto a single shrinking island of stone, suspended in endless void.
The throne of spectral fire rises at its center, unshaken, pulsing like a heartbeat.
All surviving Beings stagger to their feet.
The humans do the same, forming a ragged line.
No more hiding.
No more delays.
One island.
One throne.
One last confrontation.
CARDS (snarling, tossing bleeding tarot):
Now… we end the game.
CHAOS (distorted roar):
Everything ends.
HUMAN CHILD (steady, voice cutting through):
Not everything.
Silence.
The final battle is about to begin.
ACT IV — THE FINAL CONFRONTATION BEGINS
EXT. SHRINKING ISLAND – VOID
The throne burns brighter, shadows writhing around it.
All surviving Beings turn at once — no more rivalries, no more betrayals.
For one breath, they are united by greed.
Then—
They strike together.
CHAOS hurls an expanding wave of raw entropy, a black tsunami that erases everything it touches.
HOUSE opens every remaining door, spewing corridors full of shrieking phantoms.
CARDS throws his full deck at once, each card igniting into catastrophic fate.
SHATTERED and GLASS fracture light itself into slicing rainbows of death.
WOODEYE drives roots like spears across the island.
CLOCKER accelerates the collapse, time compressing, seconds burning like years.
WALL charges, ready to crush anyone near the throne.
A tidal wave of annihilation converges.
The humans barely stand in the storm.
But they do not falter.
HUMAN LEADER raises the relic-staff.
It glows with a light that cuts through the entropy wave, parting it like water.
HUMAN SCHOLAR chants, binding Cards’ flying tarot midair — the symbols twisting, backfiring into bursts that stagger Cards himself.
HUMAN WARRIOR hurls a broken sword into Woodeye’s roots.
It glows on impact — exploding in cleansing fire, severing the tendrils.
HUMAN CHILD steps forward, holding nothing but bare hands.
The air ripples.
Shattered’s mirrored assault and Glass’s crystal storm simply… stop in front of the child, falling harmlessly to the ground.
The Beings reel back in disbelief.
CARDS (snarling):
Impossible.
CHAOS (bellowing):
They are nothing! NOTHING!
WALL (growling, uncertain):
And yet… they stand.
The humans, trembling but alive, close ranks.
The impossible counter has shifted the war — and the Beings know it.
The throne pulses, sensing its true challengers.
ACT IV — FRACTURED ALLIANCES
EXT. SHRINKING ISLAND – VOID
The humans hold formation, glowing relics steady.
The Beings stagger back, stunned that their united strike failed.
A crack forms in their unity.
CARDS (spitting blood):
This is your fault, Chaos. Too much fury, no precision.
CHAOS (snarling):
Blame me while you hide behind paper? I’ll tear your fate in half.
He swings — entropy crashing toward Cards.
HOUSE lurches closer to the throne, ignoring them both.
WOODEYE roars, vines lashing to drag the structure back.
HOUSE (bellowing):
The throne is mine! My halls will stretch across eternity!
Woodeye’s roots tear through walls, pulling screaming rooms into the void.
SHATTERED claws at GLASS, shrieking:
SHATTERED:
You only reflect me — parasite!
GLASS:
And you are only broken!
Their light and mirror storms collapse into each other, detonating shards that slice across the battlefield indiscriminately.
CLOCKER, trembling and younger still, clutches his warped hourglass.
He screams through time itself:
CLOCKER:
I will not fade! I will not be erased!
Time freezes half the island — Beings locked mid-motion, humans forced to fight in jerking intervals of stop and start.
But WALL resists.
He slams his massive fist down, shattering the frozen zone — breaking Clocker’s grip.
WALL (snarling):
I guard the throne. From all. Even you.
The Beings’ betrayals rip the island apart.
Stone fragments crumble, void lightning strikes, the throne pulses like a living heart.
The humans, still clustered, watch the carnage.
They realize: the Beings may destroy each other before any crown can be claimed.
HUMAN LEADER (low, to the group):
Let them bleed each other dry. Then we strike.
But the throne glows hotter, sensing the chaos, ready to choose.
ACT IV — THE HUMANS MOVE
EXT. SHRINKING ISLAND – VOID
The Beings are locked in their war of betrayals.
Entropy storms clash with mirrored detonations.
Roots tear through endless halls.
Fragments of time itself fracture and collapse.
The throne pulses brighter, unclaimed.
The humans move.
Step by step, relics glowing faintly, they advance across the trembling stone.
HUMAN LEADER (hushed):
Steady. Every step counts.
HUMAN CHILD glances at the chaos — then fixes their eyes on the throne.
The glow seems to answer, flickering in rhythm with their heartbeat.
Behind them, the Beings claw at each other, blind with greed.
CARDS stabs a tarot into Chaos’s chest — only for the card to explode in his own hand.
HOUSE topples again as WOODEYE’s roots tear new chambers into dust.
SHATTERED and GLASS screech in their endless duel, their shards raining everywhere.
CLOCKER ages backward into a fragile child, screaming, his hourglass crumbling.
WALL stands, battered but unyielding, blocking the throne as all else falls.
The humans get closer.
Five steps away.
Four.
Then—
WALL turns.
He sees them.
His eyes narrow.
The others notice too, one by one, their battles stuttering.
CARDS (realization dawning):
The mortals…
CHAOS (snarling, lunging):
They dare!
The Beings, bloodied but desperate, lunge together in a last, frenzied charge —
all rage, all hunger, no unity.
The humans are exposed.
The final clash is inevitable.
HUMAN LEADER (roaring):
Now! Stand, and fight!
The last battle erupts — throne blazing at the center, island crumbling beneath.
ACT V — THE HUMANS’ LAST STAND
EXT. SHRINKING ISLAND – VOID
The island quakes.
The throne burns like a star.
Every surviving Being charges — wounded, furious, yet still godlike.
The humans hold their ground.
CHAOS comes first, fists like collapsing suns.
The HUMAN LEADER meets him with the relic-staff, the strike splitting the air.
For a heartbeat, mortal strength holds back primordial ruin.
LEADER (roaring):
You will not break us!
CARDS hurls tarot like blades, but the HUMAN SCHOLAR counters with incantations, binding the symbols midair.
The cards warp, twisting into useless ash that rains around them.
SCHOLAR (spitting blood, defiant):
Your fate… is no longer yours to write.
HOUSE staggers forward, door-maws gaping.
The HUMAN WARRIOR leaps into the storm, swinging a broken relic blade.
One slash, fueled by fury and sacrifice, cleaves through a dozen doors — light surging through the halls until the entire structure shudders.
WARRIOR:
Not today.
WOODEYE’s roots lash out.
The HUMAN CHILD steps forward, palms open.
The vines halt inches away, shivering, unable to strike.
The child’s eyes glow with something older than words.
CHILD (calmly):
Rest.
The roots wither to dust.
SHATTERED and GLASS converge, their shard storms a killing wall.
But the humans form a circle, relics shining together — a radiant barrier flaring outward.
The shards strike — and dissolve into harmless sparks.
Even CLOCKER, trembling in his child-body, tries one last time to twist time around them.
But the humans stand unbroken.
His hourglass cracks fully — collapsing him into dust across the void.
At the center, WALL remains.
He has not faltered.
He slams his massive hands into the ground, bellowing:
WALL:
Mortals cannot pass!
The humans, bloodied and staggering, raise their relics once more.
The throne pulses behind him — the final barrier, the final Being.
The last duel is set.
ACT V — THE TRIAL OF THE WALL
EXT. SHRINKING ISLAND – VOID
The battlefield is rubble.
The last Beings fall silent, too broken to rise again.
Only WALL remains, towering before the throne of fire.
Unmovable. Eternal.
WALL (booming, absolute):
I am the barrier.
I am the end of passage.
None may claim what I guard.
He slams his fists into the ground.
The island steadies, refusing to collapse further.
His very presence holds reality together.
The humans stop a few paces away, relics dim, bodies broken.
They know brute force cannot move him.
HUMAN LEADER (panting, steady):
You’ve stood here forever, haven’t you?
Not for yourself… but for the throne.
WALL:
I am purpose. I am duty. Without me, the throne is nothing.
HUMAN SCHOLAR (hoarse):
No. Without you, the throne is free.
It was never meant to be imprisoned by endless guardianship.
WALL hesitates.
His vast shoulders shift, the first flicker of doubt in his stone eyes.
WALL:
I… protect. I prevent ruin.
If the throne is taken, all worlds burn.
HUMAN CHILD (quiet, piercing):
But look around you.
Everything burns already.
The child steps forward, unarmed, meeting his colossal gaze.
CHILD:
You are not protection anymore.
You are a prison.
You guard nothing but despair.
Silence.
The void howls.
The throne’s light swells.
WALL’s cracks deepen.
His voice wavers.
WALL:
If I fall… what am I?
HUMAN LEADER (firm, unyielding):
Not a wall.
But a bridge.
The relics flare as one, light enveloping WALL.
He roars — not in rage, but in release.
His massive form fractures, crumbling like ancient stone…
and dissolves into radiant dust.
The path is open.
The throne awaits.
ACT V — THE THRONE OF HALLOWEEN
EXT. VOID — CENTER OF THE COLLAPSED BATTLEFIELD
The humans stand before the THRONE OF HALLOWEEN — obsidian, pulsing with spectral fire.
The ruins of Beings litter the void. The guardianship of WALL has ended.
The throne shifts, its jagged edges curling into talons, its flames shaping a colossal crown.
It speaks in many voices at once — the echo of every Being who ever sought to sit upon it.
THRONE (V.O.):
I am not a seat.
I am the will.
The fear.
The covenant.
Its fire lashes out, forming spectral versions of every fallen Being — distorted, half-phantoms.
THRONE:
If you would rule, prove you are not prey.
If you would bridge, prove you are not weak.
The humans ready themselves.
But this is not only combat — the throne pulls them into visions, testing their deepest truths.
VISION TRIALS:
The Scholar faces a future where knowledge is ash, words erased, truth forbidden. Must fight to defend memory itself.
The Believer is confronted with gods that sneer at her faith, demanding she kneel. She must choose belief not in them, but in herself.
The Skeptic is trapped in endless mirrors, each reflection proving him wrong. He must shatter doubt by daring to hope.
The Hacker sees time loops, fates already written. He must rewrite the code of destiny with his own will.
The Child walks alone in darkness, the throne whispering: “You are too small. Too fragile. Too afraid.” She must answer with courage no Being could imagine.
INT. SHARED VISION — THRONE CHAMBER
The visions collapse into one.
The humans stand together, battered but unbroken.
The throne towers above, flickering with rage.
Its fire lashes again, trying to crush them.
CHILD (shouting into the fire):
You are fear!
But fear serves life — not the other way around!
The relics ignite. The humans’ light intertwines, forming a single radiant surge.
The throne screams as the fire recoils inward, folding like a star collapsing.
THRONE (V.O., fading):
Then bear the burden.
Bear the crown.
For fear… is forever.
The throne crumbles into ash, leaving behind only a crown of fire hovering in silence.
The child reaches up. The crown lowers, not as a command, but as a choice.
FADE OUT.
ACT VI — THE NEW HALLOWEEN
EXT. VOID — SILENCE AFTER THE THRONE
The crown of fire hovers, waiting.
All that remains of the battlefield is drifting ash and broken constellations.
The humans stand together. None speak.
At last, the CHILD steps forward.
CHILD (softly, to the others):
It shouldn’t be just me.
Halloween belongs to all of us.
She reaches for the crown — but instead of wearing it alone, she lifts it between them.
The flames split into five smaller coronas, each settling upon their heads.
MONTAGE — RESHAPING HALLOWEEN
The Believer’s crown glows with gentle candlelight — guiding lost souls, not binding them.
The Skeptic’s crown pulses with reason, shattering lies and false fears.
The Scholar’s crown burns like ink, stories etched into the stars.
The Hacker’s crown flickers like neon circuitry, weaving paths through fate.
The Child’s crown shines purest — laughter echoing like bells, innocence reforged into strength.
The void fills with new constellations.
Where once there was only fear, now there is balance.
EXT. EARTH — ONE YEAR LATER — HALLOWEEN NIGHT
Children walk the streets in costumes.
Lanterns burn brighter. Shadows are deeper, but gentler.
The veil between worlds ripples — not as a wound, but as a window.
Otherworldly Beings are glimpsed at the edges:
Ophelia watching mourners at a grave,
Glass shimmering in city reflections,
Root whispering in the wind through autumn trees.
They no longer rule — they share.
INT. CHILD’S ROOM — NIGHT
The Child, now a little older, sets a candle in the window.
The flame bends upward into a crown shape for a moment, then steadies.
NARRATOR (V.O.):
They sought power.
They found purpose.
Halloween was never meant to be conquered.
It was meant to be remembered.
The child smiles, gazing out at the stars — where faintly, five burning crowns shine.
FADE TO BLACK.
TEXT ON SCREEN:
“Halloween is Ours.”
ROLL CREDITS.
EPILOGUE — HALLOWEEN REMADE
EXT. EARTH — HALLOWEEN NIGHT, ONE YEAR LATER
The streets are alive with trick-or-treaters.
Lanterns blaze with warmth instead of menace.
The veil ripples above, thin but steady, no longer torn.
The five crowns shimmer faintly over the humans, their guardianship unspoken but felt in every shadow and flicker of light.
MONTAGE — GLIMPSES OF THE BEINGS
Ophelia stands by a cemetery gate, her sorrow gentler now, but her eyes narrow when she sees flowers laid for the dead — a reminder that humans still grieve without her.
Walking Cyborg lurks in a dark alley, mechanical parts sparking. He clenches a rusted blade, whispering to himself: “Machines adapt. So will I.”
Shattered’s fragments glint in broken glass across a city street — reforming piece by piece, driven not by rage but by envy.
Chaos laughs faintly in the background of a storm, his distorted form watching the crown’s glow from afar. His voice echoes: “Order always falls back to me.”
INT. CHILD’S ROOM — NIGHT
The Child places a candle in the window.
The flame flickers — but tonight, it dims suddenly, as though another hand snuffed it from the other side.
The child frowns, whispering:
CHILD:
They’re not done with us.
EXT. THE VOID — UNKNOWN DIMENSION
Deep in the remnants of the battlefield, the ashes of the THRONE swirl together.
Not rebuilding a seat — but spreading outward like roots, forming something larger, darker, alive.
A low, many-voiced whisper:
THRONE’S ECHO:
If they will not serve fear…
Then fear will serve itself.
The camera pulls back, revealing a vast NEW STRUCTURE — a Palace of Nightmares — rising from the void.
TEXT ON SCREEN:
“HALLOWEEN WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING.”
FADE OUT.
ROLL CREDITS.
Future Look Of Characters
Still Version and Animated Version
https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSpHhhsGrTuHLHoESZ7NgxglIQuBOFb6n&si=-DrRSqFwHyWF84Ax
