An adaptation of the FPS horror game(s) - you already know the story. If you don't...
Following a super-soldier uprising against a shady organisation, a specialist military team are called in to quell the situation, whereby they are tormeted by ghostly happenings.
Black. A young female voice speaks.
The black screen splits in two horizontally as an eye opens in ECU. Fire is reflected in the eye, and a shadowy figure draws closer through it. We pull back from the eye to find that we are in -
ALMA (O.S.) (CONT'D)
It's time, Paxton...
INT. ARMACHAM HOSPITAL (CELL) - EVENING
- a small, clinically-white cell. The eye belongs to a man in his early 30's dressed in hospital pyjamas, PAXTON FETTEL, on his knees in the centre. A small window shows the silhouettes of crows against the bars. There's no fire and nobody else around. He twitches slightly as the lights flicker.
Eye ECU again, and the shadowy figure is close enough for us to see that it's a young girl, dressed in red, with long black hair obscuring her face. She outstretches a hand.
ALMA (O.S.) (CONT'D)
Back in the cell, FETTEL twitches again and raises his arms.
ARMACHAM HOSPITAL (CELL CORRIDOR)
We are in a narrow metallic corridor leading to a single thick metal door. The lights flicker as small footsteps of blood lead the way to the door, stopping in front of it.
CU on the door's control panel as bloody fingerprints tap in the code. The door slides open to reveal FETTEL on his knees.
Kill all of them.
He ascends into the air and stretches his arms out as his hospital garb slowly slides off him. The lights flicker intensely. His face shows immense pain, he's screaming, but no human sound is heard; only a high pitched signal.
INT. ARMACHAM WAREHOUSE (STORAGE)
The signal carries over: we see a lifeless REPLICA SOLDIER in his black combat gear stood limp. Lights in the vast warehouse begin to come on in rows as the signal activates the REPLICA SOLDIER into life: the stance rigidifies, the weapon is armed, the visor lights come on along with a small radio crackle. This REPLICA SOLDIER is not alone, there are a thousand of them in this facility, all identical. They all stand to attention in unison with a heavy stomp of boots as the signal abruptly stops. Behind them, massive doors are slowly opening to reveal a veritable arsenal of non-standard vehicles, heavy weaponry and heavy armour.
INT. ARMACHAM HOSPITAL (CELL CORRIDOR)
A naked FETTEL is leaving his cell, retracing the bloody footsteps back along the corridor and around to a small waiting area and guardpost.
ARMACHAM HOSPITAL (WAITING AREA) - CONTINUOUS
A lone SECURITY GUARD is stood in front of a vending machine, bashing one of the buttons furiously. FETTEL watches him, and with a small dip of his brow slams the unsuspecting man straight through the vending machine with invisible force, sending blood everywhere. FETTEL is motionless as the body collapses in it's vendor tomb, sending a can shooting out of the dispenser and across the room, narrowly missing him. He moves to the corpse.
INT. ARMACHAM WAREHOUSE (CORRIDORS)
Several REPLICA SOLDIERS are advancing with military precision and speed along a corridor watched by a security camera.
INT. ARMACHAM WAREHOUSE (GUARD ROOM)
ATC GUARD #1 is chewing on a burger and watching the monitors. He spots the REPLICA SOLDIERS on one of them and motions to ATC GUARD #2 who checks out the screens and makes a move for the door, reaching for his sidearm. He reaches for the door handle as the door flies open inward, knocking ATC GUARD #2 to the floor. Several REPLICA SOLDIERS mount up in the doorway and fire automatic rounds into the two guards before they've had a chance to arm themselves, killing them instantly.
All clear, let's go.
From the limp hand of the GUARD, the burger falls to the floor as the sound of distant gunfire rings out. A phone rings in the office.
CUT TO BLACK.
The ringing phone is answered.
Senator, it's Genevieve Aristide, sorry to wake you. It's about Origin.
There was an uprising. Fettel has taken command of the prototypes.
We can still resolve this discreetly, but we have to move fast.
All right, all right. Let me... Let me make a few calls.
The phone clicks off.
Intertitle: In 2002, the U.S. Army formed a secret unit dedicated to combating paranormal threats to national security.
Digital tones are heard, then a waiting tone. The receiver's picked up by a man with a deep voice, GAVIN MORRISON.
Things have gone to shit at Armacham.
And what do you want me to do, sir?
What you're good at, Morrison.
Intertitle: The unit was named First Encounter Assault Recon.
You might not like the consequences.
Perseus is mine! Get it back. I don't care what you have to do. The Source belongs to me.
Title Card: F.E.A.R.
FADE UP ON:
INT. ARMACHAM HOSPITAL (LOBBY AREA)
There is a body in the centre of the blood-soaked room and FETTEL is kneeling over it, tearing at it viciously. Two REPLICA SOLDIERS enter the room and a bloody FETTEL turns and stands to face them, bloody-mouthed and person-meat in hand. The visual freezes and gathers digital distortion as it becomes...
INT. F.E.A.R. HQ (BRIEFING ROOM) - CONTINUOUS
...an image on a security camera, paused mid-playback on a giant screen.
Surrounded by a ton of hi-tech equipment, the F.E.A.R. team - SPEN JANKOWSKI (meathead jock), JIN SUN-KWON (clever medic), CHRIS NEWMAN (stoic, handsome type) - are sat around a table whilst Team Coordinator ROWDY BETTERS briefs them on the situation.
You're watching footage taken less than an hour ago. This whacko's name is Paxton Fettel. He's the key to all this. We contain him, we contain the situation.
(pointing at FETTEL)
Fucker's got an appetite that he needs to contain.
I think he has an agenda, a purpose. This isn't just recreational. He's getting something out of it.
Like what? Essential vitamins and nutrients?
What's his story?
BETTERS uses a laser pointer to circle a large mural behind FETTEL in the image: an ATC logo.
Property of Armacham Technology Corporation. They're working on a military contract to develop an army of clones that respond to a psychic commander. Top secret, of course.
You've gotta be freaking kidding me. This is why nobody takes us seriously. Military clones?
A full battalion of them. Highly trained and heavily armed. Fettel is, or, should I say, was one of the commanders.
The team look at each other in astonishment.
A battalion?!? What are we supposed to do against a thousand super soldiers?
(reading from an intel paper)
Like I said, we put Fettel down and it's over. Fortunately, the whole point of the program is to give commanders firsthand knowledge of the battlefield without putting them in danger. That means we should be able to corner the bastard without having to wade through all those Replica soldiers.
So how do we find him?
Armacham implanted a transmitter in his head. It should lead us right to him.
The seated team members exchange a 'too-good-to-be-true?' look between themselves.
That's awfully convenient.
Assuming it does what it's supposed to.
So where is he now?
JANKOWSKI looks at NEWMAN incredulously.
Wait a sec- Is first blood here watchin' my ass today? He's not field-ready yet!
(looking around room)
NEWMAN sniggers, idly fingering his stripes. JANKOWSKI sarcastically sniggers back and gives him the 'look into my eye' sign.
You mean you only just noticed he's not here? He transferred out last week. He's a father now, and this unit's too high risk for a man in that sort of position. Besides, you said it yourself, he was getting shaky. Maybe it all just got to be a little too much for him. As for Newman here, this little op'll be the perfect opportunity to field test him. You've seen him in training yourself. His reflexes are totally off the charts. I think he can handle himself on this one.
Thank you, sir.
Hey, I didn't get these stripes off your momma.
(not even looking at him)
Funny, yours was givin' them away free when she blew me this mornin'.
Christ guys, d'ya wanna zip 'em back up? There's ladies present.
Whatever, man. It's your call.
Damn right it is! I didn't make unit leader by crackin' wise and pre-empting my superiors! Any more of this crap and Nelson won't be the only one transferring, you got me?
JANKOWSKI turns away as JIN lean closer to NEWMAN.
Don't worry about him, you'll be fine.
JANKOWSKI laughs. NEWMAN smiles.
Come on people, this isn't world war three, it's a simple locate and capture. We follow the GPS in this guy's head and we probably won't even break a sweat, let alone use deadly force. Alright, let's roll.
JANKOWSKI lets out an 'ooh-rah' as the team rise. NEWMAN and JANKOWSKI exchange childish faces. They head out of the room and into -
F.E.A.R. HQ (GARAGE) - CONTINUOUS
- the larger and more open garage area. One by one they grab their gear - guns, grenades, medkits, ammo - and begin to pile into an APC.
INT. F.E.A.R. APC
All in, BETTERS gives the signal and JIN pulls the APC out and onto the streets.
EXT. F.E.A.R. APC - NIGHT
The APC travels through the nighttime city.
EXT. ARMACHAM SECRET FACILITY - NIGHT
An impressive executive car pulls up outside an unassuming-looking building in an industrial park. Two men step out, both suited and carrying metal briefcases. One of the men is thin and tall, the other more bulky and stumpy. They head inside the building.
INT. ARMACHAM SECRET FACILITY (LOBBY) - CONTINUOUS
The interior of the building gives away as much as the exterior: it's a single main hall, with a set of elevator doors at the far end and small alcoves leading to storerooms lining the sides. Two armed ATC GUARDS stand either side of the elevator. Another two more formally-dressed ATC GUARDS stand beside the metal detector and x-ray machine, situated next to the stylish front desk. The visitors stop at the desk, greeted by a smiling RECEPTIONIST.
Can I help you gentlemen?
The taller man speaks, his voice familiar as MORRISON's.
Mr. Bristol, please.
One moment, please.
The RECEPTIONIST picks up a phone and pushes some buttons. The BULKY MAN shifts uncomfortably. MORRISON shoots him a quick, stern look to ease him.
She taps the receiver, then taps the switchook.
I'm sorry, I can't get through.
The BULKY MAN goes to speak but MORRISON gets there first.
Miss, we're in quite a hurry here. It's concerning the situation at Armacham main.
Do you have any ID?
MORRISON and BURLY MAN fumble inside their jackets and produce Armacham ID cards. The RECEPTIONIST takes them and swipes them under a scanner on her desk.
CU on computer screen showing personnel records that match the ID cards.
(handing cards back)
Mister Bristol's working in one of the sub-levels, I'll have to escort you down.
The RECEPTIONIST ushers the two men towards the x-ray machine and metal detector. The visitors place their cases on the belt for the x-ray as the machine draws them in. Again, BULKY MAN looks nervous but MORRISON's stern glance steels him. MORRISON steps to the metal detector. BULKY MAN nervously watches the signal light as MORRISON steps through - it is unalerted and BULKY MAN relaxes as he then follows after MORRISON.
The RECEPTIONIST hands the men their briefcases back and leads them to the elevator at the rear of the lobby. The doors open to meet them and she speaks to the ATC GUARDS.
Bristol, sub-sixteen. I'll activate the changeover.
The ATC GUARDS step inside the elevator.
Follow these guards, they'll take you where you need to be.
I appreciate your help, miss, I'll pass that on to Mister Bristol.
The RECEPTIONIST smiles as the two men step inside the elevator, one ATC guard behind them, the other in front.
ARMACHAM SECRET FACILITY (ELEVATOR) - CONTINUOUS
The doors close.
CU on MORRISON's wrist as he pushes two buttons on his watch. The watch starts beeping.
The ATC GUARD behind MORRISON leans into him.
The digital floor counter has begun to descend as MORRISON and BURLY MAN simultaneously drop their cases. BURLY MAN pushes the ATC GUARD in front of him against the elevator doors.
Simultaneously, MORRISON brings his elbow up into the face of the ATC GUARD behind him, then spins around and locks up his gun, wedging him against the rear of the elevator. Both men draw their silenced pistols whilst doing so. As soon as is each ATC GUARD is pinned, their respective attacker puts a bullet in their head. The corpses slump to the floor.
BURLY MAN and MORRISON holster their sidearms and begin looting the larger guns, and extra ammo, from the dead guards. Both men speak to each other in hushed tones.
I thought that detector woulda gone off for sure.
Charlie team did their job, unlike you. You nearly gave us away. Anyway, I sent the signal.
Good, can't wait to get out of this fucking suit.
MORRISON's look screams that this degree of primitivism is beneath him.
The men ready their stance and await the doors opening.