The Story
Discover the Story
Under the bed. In the closet. Somewhere between worlds.
What begins in a bedroom, beneath a bed and behind a cracked closet door, follows one family across decades. Grief settles in. Silence grows loud. The things left unseen begin to shape everything that comes after.
From an original screenplay by Bret McCormick, this is not a story about ghosts, but about what lingers after a tragic loss. Memory. Guilt. The quiet weight of unanswered questions.
Some fears disappear. Others quietly decide who we become.
Meet Bret McCormick:
The Visionary Screenwriter
Bret McCormick is an award-winning writer known for weaving psychological tension with heartfelt drama, creating stories that linger long after the credits roll. His unique voice brings authenticity to the supernatural genre.
His previous works have been featured in top genre festivals and praised for their originality and emotional impact. Critics often describe his writing as "hauntingly beautiful" and "emotionally devastating."
McCormick is passionate about exploring human vulnerability through supernatural storytelling, believing that the best horror holds a mirror to our deepest truths and hidden traumas.
The Script
Act I
Begins in a quiet suburban home, where a child vanishes during the night without explanation. In the absence that follows, a family fractures under the weight of grief, suspicion, and silence. The older brother is left carrying a fear he cannot name, shaped by a bedroom that no longer feels safe. What should have been a passing childhood terror settles in, becoming the moment everything else grows out of.
Act II
Follows the boy into adulthood, as the unanswered disappearance continues to shadow every choice he makes. War, love, and family arrive, but none of them loosen the grip of that early fear. The past surfaces in quiet, unexpected ways, blurring the line between memory and something more. As the supernatural edges closer, it becomes clear that what was lost never truly left.
Act III
Draws the story back toward its origin, where time, memory, and place begin to collapse into one another. What has lingered at the edges of the film moves closer, not with spectacle, but with quiet inevitability. Familiar moments are recontextualized, asking the audience to reconsider what was lost and what may have been spared. The conclusion lingers, unsettling and strangely tender, long after the final frame.
