I've got no strings

Written By

Lewis Maddison

Based on, if any

Address
Phone Number

FADE IN:
Ancient metal groans and creaks,echoing around the desolate
grounds of what was once a grand circus. Mounds of debris
and brightly coloured material lay in the empty, weaving
streets.
Two shadows loom amongst the ghostly shells of former tents
and buildings. A sense of overbearing dread, falls down on
them.
SAMANTHA
How long have we been here?
Trailing her brother behind her, the siblings move onwards,
eventually coming to a stop in what would have been the main
square.
Wind whips at the tents surrounding them, a high pitched

whistle emerges from nearby shadow. A man emerges, hands

first, swirling and spinning as he moves.
CIRCUS OWNER
Welcome to my humble abode! Let me
show you around.
Before the two can utter a word the elusive man whisks them
off deep into the park.
Turn after turn, over pile and pile of refuse they go until,
the children are left staring at a large, black mountain,
obscuring their path.
Turning to find their guide, they see nothing. Having
slipped back into the darkness from where he emerged.
EXT.BOUNCY CASTLE
Obscured by a mountain of clothing and costumes, from
previous employees and visitors decades ago, is a monolithic
shadow. shrouding the surrounding area in darkness.
Clambering over the piles of stained refuse. They stand
before an archaic bouncy castle. Its once bright colours,
dulled by years of battering and mismatched repairs. Long
columns of metal and piping shoot out, the only thing
keeping it standing.
SAMANTHA
Lets keep moving, there has to be a
way out somewhere around here.
Taking hold of James's hand the two turn and walk away. As
they proceed a voice rings out of the small, dank doorway of
the castle.
DISJOINTED VOICES
I've got no strings, To hold me
down, To make me fret, or make me
frown. But now I'm free. There are
no strings on me.
JAMES
The voices.
Turning back toward's the cold shadow they stand in silence,
awaiting the call.
DISJOINTED VOICES
I've got no strings, so I have fun.
I'm not tied up to anyone, They've
got strings, but you can see, there
are no strings on me.
Jame's begins to go cold, his eye's become wide, pupils
unresponsive. Slowly he begins to walk towards the void.
JAMES
You have no strings, your arms is
free. To love me by the Zeider Zee.

Ya,ya,ya if you would woo. I'd bust

my strings for you.

Whispering as he walks. Pushing his sisters frantic hands

away he enters, then disappears.
Hesitating, Samantha jumps in after him and the world goes
black.
FADE TO BLACK.
INT.WORKSHOP
A faint light swings from the ceiling, illuminating the cold
ground below. Stuffed animals line the walls, dry, flattened
fur, glistening in the light. Mouths and eyes stitched shut
preventing them from screaming. Tables covered in tools,
vials filled with dark, thick liquids, spools of thread and
needles lay across the room. The ceiling and floors covered
in reams of thread, spinning a large spider web around the
inhabitants.
Sitting in a dark corner are two shapes, one holding the
other. Hushed breathing the only thing filling the room. As
they sit in the darkness laughter begins to echo around
them.
DISJOINTED VOICES
Hahahahahahahaha
Pattering of tiny feet surrounds them, large, bright eyes
and huge smiles emerge from the eclipse. Staring into the
souls of the new victims. The laughter escalates, getting
louder and louder and louder.
Covering their ears the children cower. Eyes tightly shut,
blocking out any view of their impending deaths. The
laughter stops, the smiles sink back into the blackness.
Leaving two children, whimpering in the darkness.
FADE TO BLACK.
Heavy foot steps strike the cold floor. Louder and Louder
they slowly approach the children. Soft pattering trails
behind, like dogs following their master. A man steps into
the faint light.
Huge in height and thin. Barely illuminated by the dull glow
of the bulb. His shirt old and stained in red, yet perfectly
pressed. A large black belt, tight around his small waist
holds patches of dry, brown leather, tapered needles and
thread protrude from the flesh. Thread hangs out of stitched
skin making up the mans body.
The man lays a long bony finger on the children's faces.
TAXIDERMIST
Turning from the children he whispers. "Welcome to the

Family.....Meet your brothers and sisters"

Bones crack. Tiny feet scatter along the floor, enhanced by
the crackling of electricity. Shapes begin to approach. Some
large, some small. Bodies covered in stitches, conductors
protruding from skin and bone. They twitch towards the
children, eager to reach their new family.
SAMANTHA
"screams"
Screams are drowned out by laughter.
FADE TO BLACK.
EXT CIRCUS-DAY
A group of children approach the Large, black doorway of the
circus. Full of wonder and excitement they enter the park.
Laughter fills the air.
FADE OUT