NIGHTBORN

Screenplay based on the novel by Theresa Cheung

Adapted by Tricorn Books

FADE IN:

EXT. BEACH – FLORIDA – DAY – DREAM SEQUENCE

A vast, empty beach. The ocean churns ominously in the distance. ALICE stands alone, watching the water.

The ocean begins to swell. A massive wave forms, rising slowly at first, then gaining terrifying momentum.

The wave towers, easily 30 feet high, dark and roaring. It surges toward her with relentless force.

Alice turns, panic in her eyes. She sprints up the beach, bare feet slipping in wet sand.

ALICE

(terrified whisper) No, no, no…

The wave catches her, yanking her underwater. Her body twists violently through the current.

UNDERWATER – CONTINUOUS

Alice tumbles through murky water, surrounded by swirling debris – plastic, broken wood, seaweed, dead fish.

Her lungs burn. She claws desperately at the water, eyes stinging. The current drags her deeper.

Her face contorts in agony as she chokes, drowning in the crushing void.

Suddenly, her feet hit something solid. She pushes upward with all her strength, breaking the surface for a split second.

She gasps a single breath before being dragged down again.

Instead of fighting, she lets herself go limp, floating with the current.

Her feet touch ground again. With one final push, she launches upward.

INT. ALICE’S BEDROOM – MORNING

Alice jerks awake, gasping. Sunlight streams through her window, momentarily blinding her. Her sheets are tangled around her body. She touches her throat, still feeling the phantom grip of the water.

ALICE

You’re okay. You’re okay. It was a dream. Just a nightmare.

She pauses, troubled.

ALICE

(to herself)

What if it wasn’t just a nightmare?

Alice swings her legs over the bed, feet hitting the cold floor. She glances at her bedside table where a journal sits – her “Red Book.”

She grabs the journal and a pen, frantically writing down every detail of the dream.

ALICE (V.O.)

Was it a symbolic glimpse into my own future? A warning? Or something darker, deeper?

Alice sets the journal down, still visibly shaken.

ALICE (V.O.)

It was my calling, my passion. Perhaps, as director of the new programme in Jungian Studies at the University of Central Florida, I could teach my students what I had dreamt…

Alice stands and moves to her bedroom mirror. She stares at her reflection – long dark hair framing a face with mismatched eyes: one blue, one brown.

She blinks rapidly, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

ALICE (V.O.)

I had always hated this difference. Always hidden it behind a pair of blue lenses.

Alice reaches for a contact lens case, opening it carefully. She inserts blue contacts, one at a time, blinking repeatedly to settle them.

The transformation is subtle but significant – now both eyes appear blue. A perfect mask of normality.

She dresses methodically, preparing for her day.

ALICE (V.O.)

Something was coming, though; I could feel it. Something was drawing me, pulling me into the unknown. Could I rise above and survive it?

Alice takes one last look at herself, now fully composed, and exits the bedroom.

EXT. ALICE’S HOUSE – MORNING

Alice steps out into the bright sunlight, pausing briefly on her doorstep, still haunted by her dream.

ALICE (V.O.)

Was the drowning nightmare a message? A warning? And if so, a warning about what?

She takes a deep breath and walks forward into the day.

INT. ALICE’S APARTMENT – DAY

The sunlight filters through half-drawn blinds, illuminating a modest but comfortable apartment.

ALICE SINCLAIR, dark hair, dressed in professional attire, slings her bag over her shoulder as she prepares to leave for work.

EXT. UNIVERSITY CAMPUS – DAY

A sprawling 1,400-acre campus stretches out, with wooded areas and numerous jogging trails weaving through untouched natural spaces.

Alice pulls into the faculty parking area, exits her car, and walks toward an impressive three-storey building.

ALICE (V.O.)

Ten years since grad school, and I still can’t believe I chose UCF over Miami and Gainesville. But Orlando was always home.

INT. UNIVERSITY BUILDING LOBBY – DAY

Students rush between classes in the bustling lobby. Alice navigates through the crowd.

AMIRA MENSA, tall with tawny skin, thick braided raven hair adorned with colourful beads, and striking celadon eyes, falls into step beside Alice.

AMIRA

Hey, Alice! You’re not going to believe this.

Alice looks up at her much taller friend.

ALICE

Odd campus gossip?

Sunlight streams through the glass windows, illuminating Amira’s concerned expression.

AMIRA

(lowering her voice)

It was stranger than that. You were in my dream last night. But not like you think.

ALICE

What kind of dream are we talking about? Should I be flattered, or worried?

(in mock British accent)

Was I the beacon of light guiding you through darkness? A saviour when all hope had crumbled?

AMIRA

(unsettled)

It started in my house—but not like any house I know. I found this room—hidden, buried behind a false wall.

Alice’s expression shifts from playful to intrigued.

AMIRA

When I stepped inside, it was empty at first—just cold walls and silence. But then… you appeared. It was you, but not all of you. Just your face, floating in the ether, like a creepy clown’s face balloon.

Alice listens intently, her professional interest piqued.

AMIRA

Your hair was the same, but shorter—just at your ears—and it looked like you, every detail, every contour. But your eyes…

Amira shudders visibly.

AMIRA

One was dark, deep, like a void. The other was blue, bright, almost alive. There was something wild—like they weren’t even your eyes anymore. And they were watching, always watching me… it was chilling.

ALICE

(excited)

An unfamiliar or secret or unused room is super-exciting news! Houses in dreams are typically a symbol of your sense of self.

They walk slowly through the hallway.

ALICE

You might just be on the verge of something big, Amira—personal transformation is on the horizon, or needs to be. Hidden creative depths, unexplored potential—how exciting!

(concerned)

But… but the room was empty until I showed up and took over. What was I doing? Was I drowning?

AMIRA

I don’t know. You just appeared out of nowhere. And then the scene switched, and you were falling from the top of a

cliff or something. You were disappearing into the darkness below.

Amira’s expression grows troubled.

AMIRA

I stood at the edge, frozen, unsure— should I jump too, follow you down, or just watch as you vanished? I couldn’t move. I just watched you fall, helpless, as the distance between us grew.

ALICE

Did I say anything as I fell?

AMIRA

Nothing.

ALICE

(professional mode)

Interesting. Falling is the most common dream that people report—around the globe. If I were your dream therapist— which, thank goodness, I am not, because the best person to interpret their dreams is always the dreamer herself…

Alice doesn’t notice Amira wince.

ALICE

But if I were helping, I’d say the theme here is feeling unsupported. Or maybe even out of control. The big question, though, is: Is this dream about you or about me?

AMIRA

Pray tell.

ALICE

Well, Jung believed that if the person in the dream is a family member or partner, it reflects your relationship with them. But if it is not an intimate relationship, they symbolise something about you—an aspect of your mindset or personality.

Alice gestures enthusiastically.

ALICE

Think of a dream as stepping into a hall of mirrors revealing your unconscious mindset or beliefs. Dreams don’t happen to you. They are created for you, by you, and they’re all about you. That is their real magic.

(pauses)

So, lecture over—which is it? When you think of me, what is the first word that comes to mind? Don’t overthink it. Just look at me and go with what comes to mind.

AMIRA

Perhaps this dream is about both of us heading for a fall? Aren’t you always saying how much dreams love to pun? As for what springs to mind when I think of you, do you want brutal honesty, or should I go with what you might want to hear?

ALICE

Honesty, of course. Dreams don’t lie, and neither should friends. What is the word? I promise I won’t take offence.

Amira hesitates, then:

AMIRA

Incomplete.

Alice looks surprised, then thoughtful.

ALICE

(as they prepare to split off)

Reflection—that’s what dreams want us

to do. Yours is already casting a spell on me. Let me know if you remember anything else about it, okay?