Script: HASTE

A family is woken up at night by their TV switching on.

~

HASTE

by

Kaitlin Broadfoot

“Are you a witch, or are you a fairy / 

or are you the wife of Michael Cleary?”– Irish nursery rhyme

INT. THE CLEARY HOME, RURAL IRELAND - NIGHT

A dark living room. Crosses and effigies of the Virgin Mary line the mantelpiece. Silence except for a clock ticking past 3AM. 

Suddenly, LOUD STATIC as the boxy TV in the corner comes to life. Artificial light fills the room, reflecting off the family photos on the wall and the half-drunk mugs of tea on the side table.

A beat, then creaking floorboards as the CLEARY FAMILY wakes up. PATRICK CLEARY (50s) comes downstairs first, followed by his frightened wife YVONNE (40s, blonde) close behind. 

PATRICK

(mumbling)

Stupid old thing, don’t worry, love ...

Patrick fiddles with the TV then starts patting the sofa, looking for the remote. Yvonne comes up behind him, and the static suddenly stops.

Their daughter CIARA (17, pretty with baby-blue braces) comes downstairs, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 

CIARA

What’s going on?

POV: from the TV as Patrick and Yvonne stare at the screen in horror. Ciara joins them.

PATRICK

Jesus.

CIARA

(simultaneously)

Holy shit.

It’s a live feed of a white room. Armed guards stand either side of a young woman strapped to a chair. As they watch, she lifts her head – IT’S CIARA.

Yvonne puts a hand over her mouth. 

PATRICK

Really, Ciara?

CIARA

What?

PATRICK

You think this is funny, when I’ve got work in the morning? Do you? Give me the remote.

CIARA

I don’t have it!

PATRICK

Don’t push it. It’s three in the damn morning. Turn it off!

CIARA

Dad, I swear!

Patrick turns to his wife, who is still staring at the TV.

PATRICK

Tell her, love. Can you believe the cheek of the girl?

YVONNE

(mumbling to herself)

They’ve followed us here... They’ve followed me... 

PATRICK

What is this, some online trend? Some joke for you and your mates? I’m going to ask you one more time, Ciara. Turn. It. Off.

CIARA

Jesus, Dad! Think about it! Why would I wake myself up in the middle of the night for some stupid prank? How would I even pull it off? I’m telling you, that’s not me!

PATRICK

(furious)

That’s it.

He storms over to the TV and begins yanking at the cables.

PATRICK

You can kiss goodbye to getting that nice dress for your formal. In fact –

He rips out the last cable and the TV flickers off.

PATRICK (CONT’D)

– you can kiss goodbye to going to your formal full stop.

CIARA

Dad, I said it’s not –

The TV buzzes back to life. Its wires are mangled, but the screen is lit up once again with the live feed. 

TV CIARA

(crying)

Is anyone there?

Beat.

PATRICK

(softly)

What the hell is this?

TV CIARA

Mum? Dad? 

Yvonne walks over to her daughter and cups her face. She turns it gently side to side, looking her over.

CIARA

Mum, what are you doing?

YVONNE

Either it’s trying to trick us... or it’s in the room with us now.

PATRICK

Don’t speak in riddles, love. What are you talking about?

His eyes dart anxiously between the TV and his daughter.

YVONNE

There were tales of them in Ballyvadlea. They’d take children, replace them with their own... but they could never make a perfect match. There were ways to tell.

PATRICK

Don’t talk shit, Yvonne. Someone’s tapped into our house, hijacked our TV, and you’re going on about Ballyvadlea. 

YVONNE

(mocking)

There are things out there that you wouldn’t ever understand, Dublin boy.

CIARA

Mum, you can’t be serious. I’m me! 

YVONNE

(pointing to TV)

Are they not the Gardai, Patrick? And did the TV not come on by itself?

PATRICK

So they are. And so it did. 

YVONNE

You don’t think there’s a reason the Gardai have a girl that looks just like our Ciara? 

PATRICK

(relenting)

Go on then. How can we tell who’s who?

(to Ciara)

Just to humour your mother, love.

Sudden orchestral music. Bold text appears over the live feed.

TV NARRATOR

When dealing with a suspected changeling infestation, we must remember to act with HASTE!

A large ‘H’ flashes on the screen.

TV NARRATOR

H is for hair – has the suspect’s hair become lighter recently?

On cue, one of the armed guards walks over to TV Ciara and begins examining her hair.

Yvonne and Patrick turn to Ciara. There’s an awkward 

pause.

PATRICK

Well, I’d better...

He begins combing his hands gently through his daughter’s hair. Sure enough, there are blonde streaks.

CIARA

It’s lighter because I bleached it with lemon juice. I wanted it to look nice for the formal. Mum helped me do it – didn’t you, Mum?

YVONNE

That I did, you’re right, sweetheart. Took to your hair much better than I thought it would.

PATRICK

Well then. 

(He kisses Ciara’s forehead.)

If it was all down to blonde hair, sure you’d be one too.

YVONNE

(laughs)

Mine’s as fake as they come. Straight out of a bottle.

Music blares again, and a new letter pops up.

TV NARRATOR

‘A’ is for appetite – has the suspect been eating more?

The guards pull up TV Ciara’s shirt while she fights against them. They poke at her stomach.

PATRICK

Here now, are they listening to us? How do they know when to keep playing that stupid tune?

Patrick storms over to the table lamp and begins unscrewing its shade, hunting for hidden mics.

PATRICK (CONT’D)

This has to be some sort of bloody joke.

YVONNE

They manipulate, Patrick. It’s what they do. I heard of a husband in Ballyvadlea that heard their voices through his radio, and his wife –

PATRICK

Would you stop it with that, woman?

Silence. It’s uneasy. Ciara fidgets uncomfortably.

CIARA

I’ve only been eating more because I’m stressed. Exams and stuff. And I’ve been at netball training, too.

Silence again.

PATRICK

Is that where all my ginger biscuits have been going?

YVONNE

And that roast chicken I was saving.

On the screen, TV Ciara cries softly, humiliated. Her crumpled shirt still exposes her lower stomach. Patrick and Yvonne look at her, then back at Ciara.

PATRICK

You do look a little bit round in the face these days, love. No offense. 

Ciara tries to keep her composure.

CIARA

I know. It’s stress, Dad. All it is.

They wait. TV Ciara has slumped against her restraints, breathing hard.

TV NARRATOR

‘S’ is for sickness – has the suspect been recently ill?

The atmosphere in the room grows cold. Patrick and Yvonne look at their daughter, waiting. 

CIARA

What? I haven’t been.

PATRICK

Don’t lie to us, now. It was only a couple of weeks ago you were off sick from school.

CIARA

(reluctant)

I had a bad period.

The guards take TV Ciara’s temperature and shine lights in her eyes.

YVONNE

I’ve heard you, early in the mornings. I’ve heard you retching in the bathroom.

CIARA

No.

PATRICK

I knew someone had been at my Pepcid tablets.

YVONNE

Just tell us why, sweetheart. Tell us so we know it’s really you.

CIARA

(defensive)

Do you hear yourself, Mum? You really think I’ve been replaced by some monster? They’re trying to trick us – to turn you against me!

PATRICK

Answer your mum’s question. 

Beat.

CIARA

I haven’t been sick! Well, I – maybe once or twice. I... snuck out with some friends. We were drinking Pernod and black, and I had too much. 

CIARA (CONT'D)

My puke was all purple the next morning. I’m sorry.

(pause)

But that’s all! I’m fine, really!

YVONNE

It was more than twice.

PATRICK

You’ve gone through nearly a packet of my Pepcids. 

TV CIARA

Please, let me go! I haven’t done anything wrong! Why are you doing this to me?

The glow of the TV lights the family. Ciara wrings her hands anxiously, and TV Ciara sobs. Patrick turns to the screen.

PATRICK

Hair, appetite, sickness. What’s next?

TV NARRATOR

‘T’ is for teeth – do they look sharper?

Ciara backs away from her parents with her mouth tightly shut. They advance on her.

CIARA

Enough, now. Can’t you see what they’re doing to us? This is all a game, a trick. 

Patrick and Yvonne draw closer, trying to catch glimpses of her teeth every time she speaks.

CIARA (CONT'D)

They’re trying to make you suspect me. Can’t you see this is what they want?

The guards stand by TV Ciara, one on either side. They forcefully tilt her head back.

TV CIARA

(crying)

I’m scared. Someone get me out of here, please! Mum, Dad... anyone!

CIARA

How about you ask me questions? Stuff only the real me would know. That way, I can prove it to you!

YVONNE

That won’t work, sweetheart. They’ve evolved to pass undetected, that’s how they get into your home. Only the little things give them away.

TV Ciara is fighting her restraints as one guard forces her jaw open. She tries to scream as the other jams his fingers in her mouth, checking her teeth. The volume gets louder.

TV CIARA

(garbled)

Help me!

CIARA

(beginning to cry)

I lied, okay?! I lied!

Patrick and Yvonne pause.

CIARA (CONT'D)

I wasn’t eating because of stress, and I have been sick, but it wasn’t the Pernod. And my period... 

She draws a shaky breath.

CIARA (CONT'D)

The truth is... oh God... the truth is that I’m pregnant. Was pregnant.

She slumps into an armchair. All the colour has drained from Patrick’s face.

PATRICK

What?

CIARA

I’m sorry.

PATRICK

Was?

CIARA

(sobbing)

It was an accident, Dad. Just some stupid boy at school. I didn’t know what to do... I went online, found these pills... I was so ashamed.

Beat.

CIARA (CONT’D) 

I didn’t want you to think badly of me, to see me differently – but I can’t have a baby. I want to finish school, go to uni, have a life... I had to do it, Daddy. I’m sorry. I never meant for you to know.

YVONNE

My God.

Silence as Ciara cries softly in the armchair.

PATRICK

(coldly)

Show me your mouth.

Through tears, Ciara opens her mouth for Patrick to inspect. Her blue braces obscure her teeth. 

CIARA

Don’t hurt me, Daddy. I didn’t have a choice. 

Patrick ignores his daughter’s crying. On the screen, TV Ciara has gone quiet.

PATRICK

Yvonne, get my toolbox.

Yvonne obediently leaves the room. Patrick stares at the TV while Ciara sniffles. TV Ciara stares desperately into the camera, seeming to look right through into the room.

CIARA

Dad... 

PATRICK

Don’t. 

Yvonne returns with the toolbox. Patrick rummages through it and pulls out a pair of pliers. Ciara moans in fear.

CIARA

Daddy, please don’t. 

PATRICK

Hold her head, love.

Yvonne moves to the back of the armchair and takes Ciara’s head in her hands. Patrick uses his free hand to grip one of Ciara’s wrists, and plants his knee firmly over the other to hold her down.

CIARA

(panicked)

Please, please!

TV CIARA

Please, please!

PATRICK

Hold still. Let me see your teeth.

Tooth by tooth, Patrick pulls off the braces. The glue 

holds them firmly and he has to yank with force. Ciara screams as best she can, and tears streak her face.

YVONNE

Stay calm. It’s just to check.

Snap. Snap. Snap. Finally, the last wire is off. Yvonne and Patrick peer into Ciara’s bleeding mouth.

PATRICK

What do you think? I can’t tell.

YVONNE

I’m not sure. These ones do look quite sharp to me. 

Ciara tries to protest, but she can’t speak with her parents’ fingers keeping her mouth open.

PATRICK

Yes, I think so... God, I don’t know.

TV CIARA

Please... I don’t know what’s going on. There’s a camera here, recording me, and I’m wondering if maybe they’re showing it to my parents right now, for ransom... Mum, Dad, if you can hear me, please help me. I’m cold, and I’m scared. 

TV CIARA (CONT'D)

I’ve been in here for weeks. And the guards, they... 

TV Ciara breaks down crying. Patrick turns to Ciara.

PATRICK

For weeks?

CIARA

She’s lying, Dad. She’s a liar! I’m your daughter, me! Sitting right in front of you!

Ciara’s hands are folded over her stomach. Patrick stares down at her.

PATRICK

My daughter wouldn’t do what you’ve done.

The orchestral music returns. 

TV NARRATOR

‘E’ is for eliminate. If the changeling is exposed, they will attack. It is imperative that you act first. Remember, act with HASTE!

The music continues as Ciara sobs. Yvonne looks fearfully at her husband. He is frozen in panic, holding the pliers.

CIARA

Don’t do something stupid, Dad. I’m right here. 

TV CIARA

Mum, Dad, if you’re seeing this – I’m right here!

A guard approaches TV Ciara one last time.

CIARA

I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not a monster.

TV CIARA

They’re hurting me in here – they think I’m a monster! I keep telling them, but they won’t listen.

The guard lifts his rifle.

TV NARRATOR

Remember - act with HASTE!

TV Ciara cries out. The guard places the muzzle of the rifle against the back of her head. 

Ciara lunges out of the armchair, trying to make a break for it. 

YVONNE

Now, Patrick!

TV CIARA

Daddy, please!

One swift jab. That’s all it takes. Patrick’s hand squeezes the pliers as they drive into Ciara’s throat. They freeze like that, for a second. Then he releases his grip and the tool opens, tearing a hole in his daughter’s neck. Blood jets out all over his chest.

Silence.

Ciara falls backwards into the armchair. Her head lolls to one side. Blood spurts out of her neck with the pliers still embedded, and her gargling breaths finally cease.

She’s dead.

YVONNE

Oh, my God.

Patrick crashes to the floor. His hand and arm are slick with Ciara’s blood. It’s spattered over his face and soaks into his shirt. 

Beat.

Patrick turns and begins to crawl towards the TV. The music has stopped. The guards have disappeared, leaving only TV Ciara, sitting alone in her chair. She is silent, head bowed.

PATRICK

Let her go now, then. Let her go. We caught the fake.

No response. The TV flickers.

PATRICK

Come on now. I know you can hear me – you gave us all those instructions. You told us to do it and we did. Now give our real daughter back.

Nothing. The live feed cuts off, and there’s static, then darkness. TV Ciara is gone. The only sound is Patrick’s sobbing.

PATRICK

No, no, no. No.

He crawls to the TV, desperately pressing the buttons.

PATRICK

Come on now. Come on.

It finally flickers back on, but only shows static once more. No chair, no guards, no Ciara. 

PATRICK

Oh, God, love. What are we going to do?

Patrick turns away from the screen, towards Ciara’s body. Where he stabbed her is a gaping black hole, oozing blood. 

Yvonne stands beside her daughter, holding the pliers in her hands. Her blonde hair glitters in the artificial light. As Patrick sobs, she grins down at him, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth.

END