TITLE CARD: DECEMBER 22ND.
INT. TOY STORE WINDOW – DUSK
Christmas lights frame a frosty window pane with the store’s logo. A train set, a Christmas tree, and several wrapped presents adorn the storefront. PEERING IN from outside is a LITTLE GIRL (7), her face a combination of wonder and resentment. She’s bundled in mittens and a hat. The scene is brightly lit, and CHEERY CHRISTMAS MUSIC plays loudly.
CUT TO:
The same scene, but from behind the LITTLE GIRL. The music cuts, replaced by TRAFFIC NOISE. The warm yellows and oranges from inside are now cold blues and grays of the street. A BELL JINGLES as a WOMAN emerges from a different store just off-screen, carrying a full paper bag.
WOMAN
Ready, sweetie?
The CHILD lingers for a moment before following her MOTHER down the busy street, head down, hands in pockets. The camera pans from the toy shop window to the sign of the adjacent store, reading: “MOTHER MABLE’S CHARMS AND RARE GOODS.”
CUT TO:
INT. DINING ROOM – DAY
The WOMAN and CHILD are seated at a large farmhouse table, sans their coats and hats. The brown bag lies toppled over on the table, contents spread out in front of them. The camera pans over bundles of sticks, balls of twine, various flowers and herbs. The MOTHER weaves sticks together, wrapping them with twine.
MOTHER
The use of alfalfa in our wreath brings prosperity and wards off hunger. Lavender brings peace and sweet dreams.
She holds up each item as she discusses it, looking expectantly at her daughter – drilling her on their traditions.
MOTHER
Now, why do we celebrate Yule on the darkest day of the year?
REBECCA
As a reminder that the light is coming back.
A shot of the girl’s bored face, followed by a reverse-shot of the TELEVISION in the next room, revealing the child is only half-listening. She’s watching commercials of children playing with loud, flashy toys.
MOTHER
Not quite, Rebecca. As a tribute to the light bringer, that he might bring Spring and life to us once again.
She continues going over the herbs and plants. REBECCA’s gaze drifts to a corner, where a white rat sits in a small cage. It licks at its water bottle, making a small tap-tap-tap noise. Then it licks its hands and brushes them over its head, cleaning itself. Watching distractedly, Rebecca smiles and chuckles to herself.
The mother finishes and reveals a circle of thorny sticks and leaves, holding it up for the girl.
MOTHER
Not bad, huh?
The girl glances passively at the wreath. Her smile drops.
REBECCA
Yeah.
CUT TO:
EXT. SALEM ELEMENTARY – NIGHT
A silver wreath with red bulbs, white lights, and tinsel, its flamboyance in stark contrast to the little wreath in Rebecca’s house, hangs on a door surrounded by the words, “Salem Elementary Annual Christmas Extravaganza”. The word “Christmas” is scribbled out but still legible, and replaced via sharpie with the word “Holiday” – in quotes.
The door opens. A WOMAN in an ELF COSTUME beams, chiming:
WOMAN
Merry…
She looks down, stopping short.
WOMAN
Holidays. Hello, Rebecca.
REVERSE SHOT TO: REBECCA
The bright colors of the scene inside once again contrast with the blacks, grays, and whites outside. REBECCA stands on the stoop with her MOTHER, both in black dresses styled like the 1700s. They look distinctly out of place; only REBECCA is noticeably uncomfortable.
WOMAN
(with obvious effort)
I love your costumes!
MOTHER
Thank you. (curtsies) We are wearing the traditional garb our ancestors would wear to celebrate the solstice. Well, when they weren’t skyclad anyways.
An awkward pause as the WOMAN stares blankly.
MOTHER
That means nude. We made brownies!
She holds up a plate, snapping the WOMAN out of her reverie.
WOMAN
Oh wonderful, come on in!
CUT TO a close-up of the FOOD TABLE, where there are already a dozen trays of brownies, far more colorful and festive than the plate REBECCA’s MOTHER puts down. A GROUP OF CHILDREN in their best Christmas dress whisper and giggle at REBECCA.
PRINCIPAL BYRON
Ms. Bishop! I’ve been meaning to talk to you…
An OLDER MAN, presumably the principal, pulls REBECCA’S MOTHER away, leaving REBECCA at the mercy of her peers. She picks up a cookie and heads to the chairs lined up against the wall on the far side of the room.
The PRINCIPAL speaks in hushed tones to the MOTHER.
PRINCIPAL BYRON
It’s been several months now, maybe it’s time to think about public school for Rebecca?
MOTHER
I know, Principal Byron, but she loves it here, and as you know, the other schools in the area aren’t the best…
The two share a brief glance, the PRINCIPAL closing his eyes and nodding slightly to indicate he agrees but can’t say anything.
MOTHER
And I’m working on getting the money together. It’s just been a tough year.
The PRINCIPAL touches her arm gently.
PRINCIPAL BYRON
Ms. Bishop, I understand that times are tough all over. I’m willing to give you until the end of January. But if we aren’t paid in full by then, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. She will have to transfer.
MOTHER
I understand, thank you.
CUT TO the other side of the room, REBECCA looking out at the gym, seeing some older kids dancing to “ROCKING AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE”, others making gingerbread houses. She glances over to her left, where a boy about her age, JEREMY is sitting, fiddling with some small trinket. He notices her looking.
JEREMY
Check it out!
He comes over and sits next to REBECCA, showing her a small plastic REINDEER. When he pushes its tail, a small, brown jellybean pops out of its rear end. REBECCA giggles. He hands the jellybean to her.
JEREMY
Eat it, it’s good!
She eyes it suspiciously, then, seeing his nod of encouragement, pops it in her mouth. She smiles and giggles again.
JEREMY
You try!
He hands the toy over. She pushes the tail down again, handing the jellybean back to him. He eats it and laughs.
JEREMY
Poop isn’t so bad, huh?
She smiles, handing the REINDEER back. The boy, teeth brown with jellybeans, grins.
JEREMY
You keep it! I have another one at home.
A friend calls his name, and he trots off.
JEREMY
See you!
REBECCA reverently looks at the toy before pocketing it. The scene fades out on her cautiously happy face.
FADE IN:
INT. REBECCA’S ROOM – NIGHT
REBECCA’S face is now in panic, flushed and crying. She screams “No!” but the sound is feral. The camera pulls out to show her CLINGING TIGHTLY to the WHITE RAT, which is chittering wildly. Her MOTHER fights to pull the animal away. Both are still in traditional garb; it’s the same night as the party.
MOTHER
I told you not to get attached! It’s not a pet, Rebecca! I told you!
REBECCA
Ow!
Rebecca cries out, letting go of the rat. A close-up reveals a drop of blood beading on her hand; she was bitten. MS. BISHOP takes the rat away as REBECCA falls to the ground, a sobbing heap. MS. BISHOP, shaking her head, stomps off with the rat towards the stove, where a large BLACK POT sits bubbling and hissing steam. Various plants and vials and jars are on the counter, indicating something strange is brewing.
In one swift motion, the MOTHER grabs a CHEF’S KNIFE from the butcher’s block and slits the rat’s throat, blood leaking into the pot without a drop spilled. She wrings it like a towel, bones cracking. Once drained, she lays the rat on a cutting board, chopping off its tail.
CUT TO:
INT. DINING ROOM – NIGHT
A close-up of the RAT’S TAIL, fashioned into a fetish with twigs, twine, leaves, and other natural elements, sits on the dining room table. The MOTHER picks it up and heads upstairs.
INT. REBECCA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
REBECCA lies on her bed, eyes open and red from crying. The MOTHER lays the fetish on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed, stroking REBECCA’S hair. REBECCA stares at the tail with a dazed expression.
REBECCA
It was just a little mousey. He didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not mad that he bit me.
MOTHER
(sighs)
Rebecca, I didn’t kill the rat as a punishment. In fact, its innocence is what gives it power. We’ve been over this, darling. I know it’s hard, but we do what we have to.
REBECCA
But why? Why do we have to?
MOTHER
Because, Rebecca! (collects herself) Because He doesn’t just bring us Spring. He brings us happiness, luck, security. This house, your things—all of this comes at a cost. I know you don’t understand now, but you will in time. I promise.
She kisses REBECCA’S cheek, following her gaze to the tail.
MOTHER
It’s not pretty, I know. But just leave it there overnight. By morning, it will be gone, and we’ll forget all about this. I’ll even get you a new rat.
She walks out of the room, turning off the light. Rebecca stares at the ceiling and sighs.
REBECCA
He brings happiness. Sure.
REBECCA tosses and turns in her bed, unable to sleep, unable to get the rodent off her mind. She keeps glancing at a RAT’S TAIL on her nightstand, having flashbacks of the rat cleaning itself in its cage, of her mother slitting its throat. The flashbacks grow faster, more vivid, and more gruesome.
Suddenly, she snaps. She flings the tail off the nightstand, and it lands under the dresser across the room.
REBECCA reaches under the covers and pulls out a LITTLE PLASTIC REINDEER. She places it on the nightstand where the tail was, dispenses a jellybean. She eats it, smiles, and closes her eyes.
FADE TO BLACK.
TITLE CARD:
December 23rd
INT. REBECCA’S BEDROOM – DAY
A scream pierces the quiet.
MS. BISHOP (O.S.)
Rebecca!
Rebecca’s eyes SNAP OPEN as her mother’s voice echoes through the house.
MS. BISHOP (O.S.) (louder)
Rebecca!
Rebecca jumps out of bed, pockets the reindeer, and heads downstairs.
INT. KITCHEN – DAY
Ms. Bishop stands in the kitchen, fuming. A CAULDRON OF BLOOD lies overturned on the floor, the blood-mixture splattered everywhere.
MS. BISHOP
What did you do?
REBECCA
(confused)
What do you mean? Nothing! I was sleeping!
MS. BISHOP
Sleeping! Look at this.
Ms. Bishop stomps over to the front door, which stands ajar. The stick-wreath lies in shreds on the ground, and CLAW MARKS mar the door in a pattern vaguely resembling an upside-down cross.
REBECCA
(unsure)
Maybe… maybe the kids down the street…
MS. BISHOP
(scoffs)
Kids!?
Rebecca backs away, frightened. Ms. Bishop grabs her arm and squats to her level.
MS. BISHOP
(quietly, but intense)
Where is the offering? Did you throw it out?
REBECCA
(almost sobbing)
No! I just… moved it.
Ms. Bishop shakes her head, dismayed.
MS. BISHOP
You have no idea what we’re dealing with, Rebecca. That tail was protecting you. I am protecting you!
Unable to look her mother in the eye, Rebecca looks out of the open door, forlorn.
EXT. BISHOP HOUSE – DAY
Across the street, JEREMY is in a snowsuit, building a snowman as his FATHER shovels the driveway. Both have stopped, staring curiously at the commotion caused by Rebecca and her mother.
Ms. Bishop notices them watching. She releases Rebecca’s arm, stands hastily, smooths her skirt, and waves with a forced smile before shooing Rebecca inside and shutting the door.
INT. BISHOP HOUSE – FOYER
Rebecca looks down at her feet, miserable. Ms. Bishop takes a deep breath, rubbing her eyes, trying to compose herself.
MS. BISHOP
It’s okay. It’s okay. We can fix this. (sighs) You aren’t going to like what we have to do, but this is your fault, Rebecca. Remember that.
EXT. PET STORE – DAY
The street is bleak and gray, but the pet store window is bright and full of life. Colorful birds, lizards in tanks, happy dogs in cages along the back wall.
INT. PET STORE – DAY
At the counter, a CASHIER holds a FLUFFY BLACK CAT, extending it toward Rebecca.
CASHIER
Frankie is a great choice. Such a sweetheart! We’re going to miss having him around here, but I know you’ll love him just as much as we do. Want to hold him?
Rebecca sobs loudly and bolts out of the store. The cashier looks baffled.
Ms. Bishop takes the cat, muttering.
MS. BISHOP
Allergic.
INT. BISHOP HOUSE – KITCHEN – NIGHT
Quick succession of SMASH CUTS:
– Ms. Bishop, hovering over the cauldron.
– A CLOSE-UP as she SLICES Frankie’s throat.
– SNAP as she TWISTS his spine.
– Butcher’s knife slicing off a paw on the cutting board.
INT. REBECCA’S ROOM – NIGHT
Ms. Bishop stands outside as Rebecca SLAMS the door, sobbing.
MS. BISHOP
(shouting through the door)
You can be mad! You can hate me! But don’t, I’m telling you, DO NOT move that paw until tomorrow! Do you hear me? Rebecca!
INT. REBECCA’S ROOM – NIGHT
The room is now dark. A CLOSE-UP of the PAW TALISMAN on the nightstand beside a digital clock that reads “2:59 AM.”
The CAMERA PULLS BACK, revealing Rebecca asleep under her covers.
The clock changes to “3:00 AM.”
Offscreen, the sound of a DOOR CREAKING OPEN. Heavy FOOTSTEPS approach, the distinct click of HOOVES on wood floors. Animalistic breathing, grunting.
A HAIRY ARM with LONG, SHARP CLAWS reaches into frame, picking up the paw, turning it over thoughtfully.
The figure CRUSHES the talisman, unleashing a GUTTURAL, ANGRY HOWL. Rebecca SCREAMS.
INT. REBECCA’S ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Ms. Bishop BURSTS IN, flips on the lights, and runs to Rebecca, who clutches her bleeding arm.
MS. BISHOP
Let me see!
Rebecca hesitantly holds out her arm. The camera ZOOMS IN to reveal DEEP SCRATCH MARKS, fresh blood seeping from them.
MS. BISHOP
(whispering)
Okay, it’s okay, we’re okay. Shhh, shhh.
Ms. Bishop rips the sheet from the bed and wraps it around Rebecca’s arm, pressing tightly.
MS. BISHOP
We need to get this fixed.
REBECCA
(panicking)
No! I don’t want to go to the hospital!
MS. BISHOP
(soothing)
No sweetie, no hospital. A hospital can’t help us now.
EXT. OCCULT SHOP – NIGHT
The street is dark, except for the dimly lit windows of an OCCULT SHOP (Mother Mable’s).
INT. OCCULT SHOP – NIGHT
There’s a cauldron in a hearth in the distance, the fire roaring. Various baubles and trinkets line shelves on the walls and in cabinets. Baskets hang from the ceiling with various plant matter. It’s cluttered and tight, but warm and homey. An older woman is applying a salve to Rebecca’s arm, who shrieks as it touches her.
MOTHER MABLE
(croaking cheerily)
The pain means it’s healing!
Ms. Bishop sits close by, watching intently.
MS. BISHOP
I just don’t understand what I did wrong. I followed the rituals, used wild rhubarb, I even used a larger animal the second time to…
MOTHER MABLE
(stopping mid-application)
Second time?
MS. BISHOP
Well, yes. We made a rodent talisman as is tradition, but it got knocked off the table… mistakenly.
She glances over at Rebecca, who winces.
MS. BISHOP
So the next night I used a cat to try to…
MOTHER MABLE
Oh, oh hells below, you can’t make up for a failure to prepare an offering with a bloody cat, and on the solstice of all days!
Ms. Bishop looks on fearfully as the older woman returns to her work, wrapping Rebecca’s wound.
MOTHER MABLE
No dear, He is angry now, and His temper is not so easily abated. You’re lucky it was just a scratch. Next time He will not be merciful.
Ms. Bishop is silent, taking in the words.
MS. BISHOP
(whispering)
Then… what will it take?
The older woman looks at her gravely.
OLDER WOMAN
(somberly)
You can fix this. But you won’t like it. Just remember, this is your fault.
TITLE CARD:
December 24th
EXT. BISHOP HOUSE – DAY
Overcast skies paint the house in grays and blues. Through a window, we see Rebecca’s face peering out, the room behind her brightly lit and warm.
INT. BISHOP HOUSE – KITCHEN – DAY
A cauldron boils on the stove, herbs and jars scattered about. Rebecca stands on a chair, watching her mother outside through the window.
EXT. NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE – DAY
Ms. Bishop is at the neighbor’s door, handing a HAND-SCRAWLED, FESTIVELY WRAPPED BOTTLE to the FATHER, who smiles and calls for his JEREMY.
JEREMY appears at the door, pulling on his boots, zipping up his coat. Ms. Bishop offers her hand, and he beams, taking it as they head toward the street. The father calls out something, the two look back and wave, he waves. He reads the label on the bottle with an appreciative look and he turns back into the house and closes the door.
INT. BISHOP HOUSE – KITCHEN – DAY
Rebecca steps down from the chair. CUT TO a closeup of her face, showing a mix of emotions: resolve, grim acceptance, devastation.
TITLE CARD:
December 25th
INT. BISHOP HOUSE – DINING ROOM – DAY
Closeup of Rebecca’s face, still showing the same emotions. ZOOM OUT to reveal she stands before an extravagantly decorated CHRISTMAS TREE. Upbeat holiday music blares. The house is now completely decked out in Christmas decor; looking something like the toy store she had been pining for, complete with a toy train going round and round. The table is covered in Christmas treats, the same that were offered at the school party. Under the tree and littered around the room are wrapped Christmas presents of various sizes.
INT. NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE – DAY
The HAND-SCRAWLED, FESTIVE BOTTLE stands on a table. Next to it, a half-full glass and a limp HAND rest beside it. The bottle’s label reads, in Rebecca’s handwriting, “Merry Christmas.”
The camera ZOOMS IN on the label as the cheerful music continues.
ROLL CREDITS.