INT. SUBTERRANEAN TUNNEL – NIGHT
The group moves cautiously through the black stone corridors. Their flashlights flicker across walls etched with ancient symbols, wet and glistening.
MIKEY
(whining)
I hate this. I hate this place. Who designed a dungeon in the city?
CARLA
(smiling faintly)
Not in the city. Somewhere else.
VINCENT
Keep moving. Stick to the walls. Don't split up.
DIMA
(eyeing the others)
Allies for now. One wrong move, we don't get a second.
The group moves forward. Water drips somewhere far above. Their footsteps echo, multiplied and distorted.
EXTREME CLOSE-UP – WALL SYMBOLS
Symbols pulse faintly as they pass. Carla pauses, tracing one with her hand.
CARLA
These… they match the markings on the crate.
Vincent glances at her hand.
VINCENT
(sober)
We're not just in a dungeon. We're in their trap. Whoever "they" are.
A scream echoes from deep within the tunnels. Everyone freezes.
MIKEY
Oh, that's just great. It's alive.
DIMA
And hungry.
INT. NARROW PASSAGE – CONTINUOUS
The corridor twists unnaturally. Water pools on the ground. Walls appear to breathe subtly, as if expanding and contracting.
VINCENT
Stay alert. No heroics.
MIKEY
(calling ahead)
You guys see that?
He points. From the shadows, a creature emerges: humanoid, but twisted. Backward joints, eyeless face, skin like wet parchment. Its jaw unhinges unnaturally.
MIKEY
(freaking out)
What the—!?
It shrieks — high, unholy. The group opens fire. Bullets impact, but the creature recoils unnaturally and charges.
DIMA'S SOLDIER #1 is slashed across the arm, screaming.
CARLA
(shouting)
Fall back! Fall back to the chamber!
INT. SMALL SIDE CHAMBER – NIGHT
The group barricades the entrance with debris. Breath fogs the air. Petrov is bleeding from the arm, panicked.
MIKEY
I thought bullets killed things!
VINCENT
Not these things. Not down here.
They catch their breath. The echoing footsteps of the creature fade, leaving only dripping water and muffled screams in the distance.
DIMA
(quietly, to Vincent)
You brought us to die. Admit it.
VINCENT
I'm not pretending I understand this place. But if we work together, we survive. If we fight… we die.
INT. CHAMBER – LATER
They explore the chamber. Fungal light casts uneasy green glows. Carla examines carvings along the walls — symbols, Latin inscriptions.
CARLA
"FUGAZI." Latin. The False Made Real.
MIKEY
Yeah, perfect. Creepy as hell.
VINCENT
It's a warning. Or a promise. Maybe both.
Petrov shivers, clutching his bleeding arm. The wound seems to darken unnaturally, as if pulsing under his skin.
DIMA
We move or we die waiting. Pick one.
INT. TUNNEL – DEEPER
They venture deeper. The walls shift subtly. Mist rises from unseen vents.
Suddenly, a groaning sound — Petrov twitches violently, screaming. His flesh contorts grotesquely.
MIKEY
Holy sh—!
CARLA
(shooting)
Kill it! Kill it now!
Vincent steps forward. He hesitates, then stabs Petrov with a knife, ending the transformation. Black ichor seeps into the floor, and the stone pulses faintly.
Silence. Heavy, dripping silence.
VINCENT
(to the group)
We stay alive. Together. No exceptions. Clear?
DIMA
(reluctantly)
Clear.
INT. LARGER CHAMBER – NIGHT
They reach a colossal underground hall, dimly lit by glowing crystals and bone-white stalactites. Columns of fused bone and metal stretch to the ceiling.
CARLA
What… is this?
They spot a gigantic door at the far end — it pulses faintly, as if breathing. The air hums with unseen energy.
Carla steps closer, instinctively placing her hand on the surface. Visions flash in her mind — her father, their crimes, screams of the innocent. She jerks back, terrified.
VINCENT
Don't touch anything else.
From the shadows, a voice rumbles — the WARDEN (unseen).
WARDEN (O.S.)
Welcome… to where all debts are paid.
The group draws weapons. Only darkness stares back.
The walls shift again, subtly rearranging the corridors.
VINCENT
They move when we move. Watch each other's backs.
EXTREME CLOSE-UP – THE DOOR
The door pulses with an ominous red glow, echoing the sigils from the crates.
MIKEY
This… this is just f***ing great.
VINCENT
Welcome to Fugazi.
The group takes a cautious step forward. The camera pans up, following their silhouettes as the corridor seems to stretch infinitely ahead.
FADE OUT.