Losers in Every Dimension - SCP Foundation

Raddagher

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EXT. FOREST – EVENING

The sun is dropping over a small, sleepy-looking town, surrounded on all sides by the Cascade Mountains. The woods are lush and green in the early summer.

A long, narrow gravel road winds into the forest. At the end of it, a pair of red shipping containers refurbished into a small cabin. An ATV is parked next to it.

A strange-looking wind chime object hangs in front of one window. It’s made entirely out of different types of teeth.

WATTS

I’m not “self-isolating.”

INT. CABIN – CONTINUOUS

Inside the cabin is what amounts to a studio apartment. Small and cluttered, but cozy enough. The furniture is mismatched and secondhand, sometimes with DIY repairs to broken pieces. There’s a dumbbell rack and a punching bag in one corner, beside a large firearm safe. One full size bed in another corner.

WATTS, early 30’s, uses a prosthetic arm to sweep a few empty beer cans off a coffee table into a garbage bag. A partial commitment to a beard, overgrown black, wavy hair mostly obscuring the fractal-like scar across half his face. A black glass prosthetic in place of his left eye. He’s talking on the phone into a pair of earbuds. He looks tired.

WATTS

I don’t know what she expects me to do. Nobody does shit out here. At least I agreed to this.

We follow him out a sliding glass door to where he tosses the bag into a bear-proof trash can. It takes a second for his prosthetic hand to get a good grip on the lid.

WATTS

No. I have no idea. There’s people here from some other site. Contracts for sending more retirees out here or something, I dunno. It’s some guy from that, I think. It’s only a couple hours and then Capra will get off my ass. Hopefully. Fuck off, I’m not nervous.

Back inside. He picks up his phone from the kitchen counter, dropping into one of two chairs at a small dining table. He snorts sarcastically.

WATTS

(sarcastic)

Yeah. The devil from the Bible, that’s who it’s gonna be. Okay, I gotta go. No. Ask him, I’m not telling you shit. Bye. BYE, I have to go.

He sits in silence for a moment. Drops his head onto the table and lets out a long sigh.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Watts looks toward the front door. He stands, bracing himself against the table for a moment before crossing the room.

EXT. CABIN – CONTINUOUS

The blue front door of the cabin opens to where Watts stands behind it, glancing distractedly back over his shoulder.

WATTS

Sorry for the walk, I know it’s a-

He finally looks toward the stranger in the doorway, stopping mid-sentence. He stares for a moment. Looks the stranger up and down.

BELIAL, mid 40’s, is a tall, smartly-dressed man wearing tortoiseshell glasses and a beige suit. There isn’t a speck of dirt on him. He grins amicably.

BELIAL

Good evening! Ira, was it? I hope I’m not too late!

Watts stares at him for several more seconds.

Belial coughs awkwardly.

Watts glances toward the clock on the microwave inside. It reads 8:01.

He shakes it off, gesturing Belial inside.

WATTS

Yeah. Sorry. Thanks for coming, uh, come on in.

INT. CABIN – EVENING

Belial looks around the small cabin with amused curiosity.

WATTS

So you’re… Ben?

BELIAL

Yes indeed! “Ben.” That’s me! Very interesting flat you’ve got, mate.

WATTS

Sorry, what site are you from again? Er, I thought your group was coming in from- like, Indiana, or something.

BELIAL

Oh, I’m not local.

WATTS

From somewhere around London then?

BELIAL

Or something.

WATTS

Want anything to drink?

Belial sits down on a slightly rickety barstool across the kitchen counter as Watts opens the fridge.

BELIAL

Chamomile, if you have any?

Watts looks up past the fridge door and cringes awkwardly.

BELIAL

No tea?

WATTS

I have beer?

BELIAL

Eugh…

WATTS

I have a fifteen dollar bottle of red.

BELIAL

Brilliant!

EXT. CABIN – NIGHT

The sun has set over the Cascades. Crickets and night birds are alive around the cabin. The light from the windows looks inviting.

INT. CABIN - CONTINUOUS

Belial sits at the tiny bar counter, Watts leans up against a wall across the room. Both hold unmatched coffee mugs half-full of red wine. Belial talks animatedly as Watts polishes off his mug.

BELIAL

And they didn’t even INVITE me! I mean, bloody hell, after everything I’d done for them. All worked out in my favor, though. I eventually pulled some strings and got two of them fired.

WATTS

From your agency?

BELIAL

Yes. Not from the Foundation.

WATTS

So you’re like a private contractor?

BELIAL

More of a consultant, I like to think.

WATTS

What do you do?

BELIAL

Nothing very interesting! It’s a lot of paperwork. The type of paperwork the Foundation doesn’t want to do. Takes centuries, you could even say.

Watts studies Belial as he’s talking, squinting suspiciously.

BELIAL

I like to think I used to have it a lot like you did, actually! Glory days and all. My life was much more exciting before all… this. But what is one to do? Things turn out the way they’re going to turn out, don’t they?

WATTS

Don’t I know it.

BELIAL

That’s why I’m here, I suppose. I have a friend who has a friend who has a friend who might need some company. And I’m always keen on meeting interesting new people.

WATTS

(chuckling)

Sorry to disappoint.

Belial claps him on the shoulder, laughing.

BELIAL

You and I both then!

WATTS

Honestly, I’m really curious what kind of “glory days” somebody like you would have.

BELIAL

Someone like me?

WATTS

Pencil pushers. No offense.

BELIAL

None taken. But between us,

Belial sips his wine, smiling mysteriously over the rim of the mug.

BELIAL

That might be second date material.

WATTS

…Right.

They sit in silence for a moment. It’s a little uncomfortable. Belial clears his throat.

BELIAL

I’m happy to help start dinner, if you’re-

WATTS

Why are you here?

BELIAL

Site-68 is meeting with Dr. Church for discussions on-

WATTS

No, why are you here? You’re not even an employee of 68. You’re a contractor.

Watts’ demeanor has become significantly more tense.

WATTS

So what is a private contractor doing at a mundane retirement plan negotiation?

BELIAL

I’m sorry, have I said something to upset you?

WATTS

Can you answer the question?

BELIAL

I needed time away from the office. This town is one of the Foundation’s best kept little secrets. It’s beautiful.

WATTS

You’re sure there’s nothing else?

Belial is getting defensive. The two of them are beginning to bristle at each other like cats.

BELIAL

Mr. Watts, I think you’ve spent an awful lot of time in danger and there might be a possibility that you’re reading signals into this situation that aren’t there.

WATTS

We’re in the middle of an illusion nexus. I’m pretty good at reading the right fucking signals.

BELIAL

Does it have anything to do with that eye of yours?

They stare each other down. Watts’ eyes narrow.

WATTS’ POV: A bright, shimmering orange-red cast oscillates around Belial’s body.

WATTS

What are you?

BELIAL

I’m leaving.

Belial stands and steps toward the door.

WATTS

Wait a second, I don’t think you are.

BELIAL

I don’t have the patience for this. Goodnight, Mr. Watts.

Watts suddenly plunges his hand into the gravel of a fake potted plant and withdraws a handgun.

There’s a rune of some kind carved messily into the barrel. He trains the sight on Belial’s forehead.

WATTS

You’re not going anywhere until I know you’re not planning on hurting the kids.

Belial sighs, barely reacting.

BELIAL

You can’t see what I am?

WATTS

I can see that you’re not human.

Belial chuckles coldly.

BELIAL

So you’re at least aware that I’m not mortal.

WATTS

That body you’re in is mortal enough.

BELIAL

Your gun can’t hurt me.

WATTS

Eh. It packs a punch.

Belial’s body dissolves, vanishing into the air in ribbons of white sand. The lights in the room flicker, and every shadow stretches toward the spot where he stood, like black water flowing into a drain.

Watts steps back against the wall, scanning the room, the pistol held in front of him. Belial steps back into existence, his body reforming barely two feet from where Watts stands. He’s several inches taller.

BELIAL

I have no interest in hurting anyone in this town. Not even you.

WATTS

Then leave.

BELIAL

That was the plan.

The lights in the cabin return to normal as Belial turns on his heels, back to the front door. His face is written with frustration and disappointment.

EXT. CABIN – NIGHT

Darkness has fallen fully now. Watts watches from the doorway as Belial walks down the gravel path into the dark, unlit woods. The gun is still in his hand.

Belial abruptly stops about thirty feet from the door, just in front of the mailbox. He moves to take another step, but doesn’t.

BELIAL

Uhh…

Belial turns over his shoulder, shooting Watts a perplexed expression.

BELIAL

There’s… some kind of barrier?

WATTS

What? Oh, shit-

BELIAL

I assume you know?

WATTS

God dammit.

BELIAL

Not God, but close enough.

WATTS

My fucking wards, they’re stronger after dark.

BELIAL

Your wards.

WATTS

My house is warded, there’s- there’s weird shit out here, alright? You’re not a fairy, are you? Are you a fairy?

BELIAL

No. I’m not a “fairy.”

WATTS

Shit. Okay. They’re for keeping stuff out, I’ve never seen them keep anything in.

BELIAL

I don’t think I could cross this safely.

WATTS

What? Really? You’re not afraid of an enchanted weapon but you are afraid of some shitty folk magic wards?

BELIAL

I could get out if I wanted to. That wouldn’t be a problem at all. It’s more an issue of the- er, the discharge of energy that would occur when I did. You see, it’s a negligible amount of power for me, but it’s a fairly small area, and that amount of-

WATTS

You’d blow up my house?

BELIAL

I would most likely blow up your house, yes.

Watts rubs his hand down his face.

WATTS

Great. Shit. Shit!

He kicks the dirt, dropping onto the front step with an exasperated groan.

Belial stands awkwardly at the end of the drive. He straightens his suit jacket just to have something to do with his hands.

BELIAL

I’m happy to- uh, wait out here until morning, if that’s preferable. I don’t have much of a desire to leave a crater in your lovely forest.

Watts says nothing. Belial looks uncomfortable.

Then, with a sharp, deep inhale, Watts stands back up.

WATTS

I don’t want you- lurking around out here all night.

BELIAL

I don’t lurk. I’m not a lurker.

WATTS

Goddammit, just come back inside.

Belial watches Watts shove his hand in his pocket and turn back around, disappearing into the cabin.

WATTS OFFSCREEN

Are you coming in or not?

BELIAL

Yes! Yes, sorry.

Belial follows after him, closing the front door behind him.

INT. CABIN – CONTINUOUS

Belial stands in the doorway as Watts rounds the cabin, drawing shades over all the windows.

WATTS

Okay. Here’s how this is going to work. You’re staying on that side and I’m staying on this side. And I’m not sleeping all night, and I’m not letting go of this gun, and in about eleven hours the sun will come back up and you can get the hell out. Sound cool?

BELIAL

I never should have come here.

WATTS

Yeah, you shouldn’t have.

BELIAL

This was even more of a waste of time than I thought it would be.

WATTS

I bet “Ben” isn’t even your real name.

BELIAL

It’s not. It’s Belial.

WATTS

Belial?! Like the demon?! From Hell?!

BELIAL

Yes.

WATTS

Like, in the Gregorian chants and the Bible and shit?!

BELIAL

Yes.

WATTS

Awesome. Course this happens. Why does everything always have to be so- Fuck. I’m getting a new therapist.

Belial rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

BELIAL

Ira-

WATTS

Nah, don’t use the first one.

BELIAL

Mr. Watts.

WATTS

Better.

BELIAL

I’m not trying to be hostile. All of this is coming from you.

WATTS

Yeah. You’re right. You’re right.

Watts stands up stiffly, bee-lining for the kitchen. He throws open a cupboard and starts digging through it. Belial watches, eyes narrowed in annoyed confusion.

WATTS OFFSCREEN

This should help-

Watts passes by Belial on his way back to his spot on the floor on the opposite side of the room. He drops something in Belial’s lap – A half-full handle of scotch. He pats Belial’s head on his way past.

WATTS

Maybe we both need to calm down.

BELIAL

I’m a demon, this isn’t going to-

WATTS

Does your frail human body get drunk?

BELIAL

It can.

WATTS

Then bottoms up. I’m not doing twelve hours of this sober.

Watts pops the cork of his bottle of rum and flicks it across the room before taking a long pull.

Belial shrugs and uncorks his as well.

MONTAGE

A. Belial and Watts bicker heatedly from opposite sides of the room.

B. Belial paces the room in circles, rambling animatedly about something. His suit jacket is piled on the floor. Watts has moved to a chair and rolls his eyes as Belial prattles on.

C. Belial rolls up his shirt sleeve and they plant their elbows on the table- arm wrestling. Watts wins easily, giving Belial a smug victorious laugh. Belial shakes out his arm and goes for a rematch. The moment they start, a thick haze of sandy white particles forms around Belial’s arm, and he slams Watts’ hand back to the table. Watts curses at him.

END MONTAGE

INT. CABIN – NIGHT

Watts stands at the kitchen counter, still sipping from a bottle. Belial is lying on the floor with his feet on a chair. He’s throwing a tiny Manbear plush up in the air and catching it.

BELIAL

You’re a real twat, you know.

WATTS

What the fuck does that even mean?

BELIAL

You’re an arsehole.

WATTS

Shut up. You could have picked any human body and you still picked British.

BELIAL

I happen to like this one. Not like it’s any of your business. You’re not seeing the rest of it.

WATTS

Who said I wanna see the rest of it?!

BELIAL

This is a date, isn’t it?

WATTS

Oh, fuck off.

BELIAL

Isn’t it?

WATTS

No! Not anymore! And you don’t fuck on the first date anyway!

BELIAL

Maybe you don’t.

WATTS

Yeah. I don’t.

Belial mutters under his breath.

BELIAL

But you do have the general air of someone who hasn’t gotten a bit of tail in a long time.

WATTS

Hey!

BELIAL

Am I wrong?

Watts pauses, glaring at him. He opens his mouth. Closes it.

WATTS

…No.

BELIAL

Ha.

WATTS

But you look like if a filing cabinet came to life.

Belial fails to catch the Manbear plush. It bounces off his face. He props himself up on his elbows, wearing an expression of very competitive offense.

BELIAL

You look like you got one sleeve caught in an ice auger.

WATTS

You look like you eat the color beige.

BELIAL

You look like something they’d pull out of a shower drain at a crime scene.

WATTS

You look like you’re going to try and sell me a timeshare.

BELIAL

You look like you’re going to try and sell me your mix CD on the subway.

Watts barks out a laugh before doubling over, dropping his head onto his arms and wheezing. Belial chuckles as he sits up.

BELIAL

You got me.

WATTS

That was good. You roast me almost as good as the kids do.

BELIAL

I saw some of them today. Absolutely monstrous. Did you teach them to be like that?

WATTS

Like what?

BELIAL

Well, one of them called me a “five head.”

WATTS

Yeah, they’re going through a mean phase.

BELIAL

All of them?

WATTS

They’re all thirteen.

BELIAL

I don’t know how you manage it. Sticky little creatures.

Watts’ body language relaxes as he’s talking. He’s also pretty drunk.

WATTS

It’s not as bad as people say. You just have to respect them and meet them at their level. They’re mostly fine as long as you’re not totally shitty to them. God, I was a little dickhead when I was their age too.

Belial quietly watches him ramble.

WATTS

Don’t get me wrong, they still piss me off. But they’re teenagers, they’re supposed to piss everybody off. They’re good kids, though. They try really hard.

BELIAL

You look very different right now.

WATTS

What?

BELIAL

You look different. Clearer.

WATTS

Man, look, I’m too drunk for whatever it is you’re talking about.

BELIAL

Nevermind. Should we make dinner?

WATTS

Oh, shit. Yeah.

MONTAGE

A. Watts is washing rice as Belial shoots a bouncy ball into a beer pong arrangement of random mugs. He misses repeatedly.

B. They stand on opposite sides of the kitchen counter, both angrily ranting about something, but they’re on the same side of the issue. A pot simmers on the stove.

C. They’re sitting on the floor with dishes of stew and tahdig, laughing so hard they’re borderline crying.

END MONTAGE

INT. CABIN – NIGHT

Belial is still sipping from a bottle of wine. Watts is lying on his back on the floor. Dirty dishes are piled in the sink. It’s late.

BELIAL

It’s so… different now. You’re all so connected and disconnected at the same time. I don’t know how you all do it.

WATTS

We all have depression and hate ourselves, that’s how.

BELIAL

I miss orgies. People don’t have orgies like they used to.

WATTS

Dude, that suuuucks for you.

BELIAL

It does. It does suck for me. Nobody invites me to orgies anymore.

WATTS

Nobody ever invited me to orgies.

BELIAL

Did you want to go to orgies?

WATTS

No. But I dunno, it’d be nice to be asked.

Watts pries himself off the floor with an exhausted groan.

WATTS

Ugh, I need to go to bed. I’m drunk. I’m too old to be doing this shit.

He gestures toward the single full-size bed in the back corner of the cabin.

WATTS

You can take the bed. I’ll be on the floor.

BELIAL

No. I can sleep on the floor. My mortal body isn’t even real, in the sense that yours is.

WATTS

You’re a guest. I’m not making you sleep on the fucking floor.

BELIAL

Most people have a pull-out sofa or something.

WATTS

You’re really overestimating how many people come here.

BELIAL

I insist that you take the bed.

WATTS

I insist you take the damn bed.

They stare each other down for a moment. Stalemate.

INT. CABIN – LATER

Watts and Belial are in sleeping bags on the floor on opposite sides of the empty bed. Watts’ prosthetic lies on the floor a few feet away.

BELIAL

This is really how you want to do this?

WATTS

Yes.

BELIAL

Alright.

WATTS

It’s been a long time since I’ve drank this much.

BELIAL

Me as well.

WATTS

It doesn’t count for you. You don’t even feel it.

BELIAL

I do feel it. I’m in this meat person shell. I want to feel it.

WATTS

Yeah? How is it?

BELIAL

Feels brilliant. And also shit.

WATTS

Yuuuup.

BELIAL

You’re a decent cook though.

WATTS

Can I tell you a secret?

BELIAL

Yes?

WATTS

That’s the only thing I really know how to cook. I’m shit at everything else.

BELIAL

I don’t know if I believe that.

WATTS

It’s true. I hate cooking. I used to eat MRE’s like half the time but my doctor said it was destroying my intestines.

BELIAL

There’s something wrong with you.

WATTS

(laughing)

Yeah.

BELIAL

I used to be somebody, you know.

WATTS

Yeah. You said.

BELIAL

I used to be somebody important.

Watts turns toward him, watching his face through the space under the bed.

BELIAL

People admired me. Feared me. Worshipped me. And now look at me. I’m drunk on the floor of a shipping container and my favorite body looks like a divorced accountant.

WATTS

(snort laugh)

BELIAL

I don’t know what happened. I should have people fawning over me. I shouldn’t have to resort to seeking company from… socially inept Foundation employees, of all things. No offense.

WATTS

No, I get it.

BELIAL

I miss it terribly. The action. The excitement.

WATTS

The point.

BELIAL

I’m sorry?

WATTS

The point. Having one.

BELIAL

Oh. Yes.

Belial stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

BELIAL

It’s strange. One day it seems like you’re king of the whole universe, and the next thing you know you’re doing paperwork in an office that always smells like burnt popcorn and wondering what you did wrong. And everybody looks at you with this dreadful sort of-

WATTS

Pity.

BELIAL

Yes! All because now you can’t do what everyone thinks you’re supposed to do-

WATTS

So you just sit around trying to find some new shit to do-

BELIAL

And you wake up one century and suddenly you don’t even recognize yourself anymore.

WATTS

Like there’s only parts of that person left.

Belial stops, turning his head toward Watts in surprise. Watts isn’t looking at him, just staring into space above him.

BELIAL

Yes. Just like that.

WATTS

Guess it’s nice to know there’s losers in every dimension, huh?

BELIAL

I suppose. I think it would be much worse if I was the only one.

WATTS

Mm.

A pause for a moment. Crickets chirp loudly outside. Something in the forest makes an otherworldly, chortling laughter noise. Belial watches a strip of moonlight on the ceiling, the shadow of tree branches wavering through it.

BELIAL

Maybe I’m just drunk, but I think I envy you, mate. You say you miss having a point but you have this. This place. Your students. You have something. I’m not even sure what I have left. Maybe I could try harder, but I’m tired. I don’t expect anything from anyone anymore. I lied to myself for a long time that I deserved better than this. But when all’s said and done, it’s my own fault, isn’t it? I only wish I knew what I did. But now I figure it follows that other people don’t like me. I don’t even like me.

He pauses, sighing.

BELIAL

But it seems maybe you don’t entirely despise me. I suppose that counts for something.

No response. The cabin is dark and quiet.

BELIAL

Ira?

Watts snores quietly. Belial chuckles to himself under his breath.

EXT. FOREST – MORNING

A songbird sits on a tree branch as the sun streams through the pine needles. It shakes its feathers, briefly cycling through a rainbow of colors before it flies off.

INT. CABIN – CONTINUOUS

Watts rolls over in his tangled sleeping bag into a patch of sunlight streaming in from between the blinds. It beams directly into his face. He groans, blinking awake and squinting against the light.

WATTS

Fuck…

He peels himself off the floor, sitting up and rubbing his hand down his face. He looks like shit.

He pauses, and bends down to look under the bed toward the other side. Belial is gone, his sleeping bag folded up on the floor.

Watts looks toward the kitchen, where the dishes are clean and all the empty liquor and wine bottle are lined up beside the sink.

He stands up slowly, clearly hungover. He doesn’t bother to open the blinds on the windows. Watts shuffles to the kitchen, looking over the general lack of mess. Something catches his eye.

On the clean counter is a small, square white card. Written neatly in ballpoint pen: “CALL ME.” Watts turns it over. On the back is a neat illustration of a summoning circle.

EXT. CABIN – CONTINUOUS

Watts opens his blue front door, stepping out into the partly cloudy Pacific Northwest morning. He squints against the sun, then spots something, his face wrinkling in irritation.

A few yards away is the charred evidence of a demonic circle, burned into the brush. It’s still smoking and it looks terrible.

WATTS

Motherf-

END

This is my submission to RomCon, featuring Belial, a character by Greyve. Be sure to check out their piece for RomCon here! (hasn't been posted yet)