(exciting music) (distant barking)
(wolves howling)
(quiet folk music playing)
(suspenseful music) (snarling)
Okay...
Word balloon for you.
What's that?
(ominous music) Let's see.
"He who has wisdom wonders not of the Beast,
"for nothing in Hell lives without man's consent."
"Woe unto you that gives the Beast form.
"To contemplate evil is to ask evil home."
"Contemplate."
To contemplate is to ask... evil... home.
(low growling)
(growling intensifies)
(chuckling)
(screaming) (frightening music)
(roaring) (screaming continues)
Good God!
(screaming and roaring)
(glass shattering) (screaming continues)
(loud crashes) (grunting)
(suspenseful music)
(wind howling)
(low growl)
(heavy breathing)
(low growl)
(growling intensifies)
(electrical crackle) (man gasps)
(roaring)
(frantic music)
(pained grunting)
(rasping and choking)
(inhuman scream)
(triumphant music) (screaming continues)
(gagging and wheezing)
(frightening music)
(screaming)
(distorted laughter)
(ominous music)
(birds chirping) (soft rock music)
(wind howling) (thunderclaps)
This is it, lady.
Can I help you with your things?
No thanks. I've got it.
You know, there's a lot of talk in town about this place.
Kind of creepy talk.
A lot of weirdoes, well, they come and go.
- Know what I mean? - Yeah.
A couple of people were murdered here back in '55.
I was a kid then, but I remember
like it was yesterday.
My mother, she would just say,
"Stewart, you steer clear from that place.
"Understand? It's a bad place."
- The meter's- - In fact, uh,
just a month ago I picked a fellow up from here.
Well, he told me a hell of a lot of bizarre stories.
Oh, hey, thanks. Are you an artist?
Yes, yes, here you go. I'm a cartoonist.
Ah, I see.
Well, listen, you just watch out for yourself in there, lady.
This place attracts all kinds of trouble.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Sure you don't want any help with that?
' NO. no, I got it. - Okay.
Boy, those broads'll chew your ear off.
(thunder crashing)
(eerie music)
(thunder rolling)
Hello?
"WING! here?
Hello?
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I frighten you?
Yes, you scared me half to death.
- You must be Mrs. Briggs. - That's right.
Hi, I'm Whitney Taylor.
We met two years ago at the Rhode Island School of Design.
You lectured on Classicism and the decline of
pop art in America.
Oh, I remember.
You were the heckler in the first row.
Well, actually I was just offering you
a different point of view.
So to speak.
Well, shall we get on with it?
I'm sorry?
The interview.
Would you shut the door, please?
I love to be frightened.
As a child I collected every issue of Cellar Dweller
no matter how hard they were to track down.
I'm not surprised.
Well, my parents disapproved,
so I had to hide the comic books under my bed and...
I'd read them only late at night by flashlight.
I'd read about towns besieged by vampires and
men transformed into hideous beasts
by the waxing of the full moon.
How inspiring.
Exactly, well, that's how I got into drawing.
So now you've taken it upon yourself to
follow in the footsteps of your idol, hm?
- Colin Childress. - That's my dream.
As you can see the first few sketches are just copies
of Childress' work.
I was just really learning how to draw,
and the rest, of course, are my own.
Mrs. Briggs, I want to create a whole new comic book
in the tradition of Cellar Dweller.
Well, what better place to be inspired than here in the...
house that Colin Childress lived and worked in?
And went crazy in and killed himself in.
Let's not forget that.
Ms. Taylor, all of this is very spine-tingling.
But what does it have to do with art?
I'm sorry?
Let me be frank:
This facility's admissions committee
has advised me to find a place for you.
I suspect, however, that in accepting you
my superiors are, well,
acting on some perverse sense of nostalgia.
Colin Childress was a cartoonist.
So are you.
That's the only reason you're here.
If it were up to me, you wouldn't be.
No need to mince words, Mrs. Briggs.
Just tell me exactly how you feel.
Well, please don't misunderstand.
There's nothing personal in all this.
It's just that my only concern is for the colony.
(Mrs. Briggs): See, we have no telephones,
no television, no outside ties to the world.
- It's a unique situation. - What's all this?
Our most promising resident does some
highly innovative work with video.
This is her Video Verité project.
It's an effort to reflect our world...
as precisely as possible.
You could learn something from her.
(eerie music)
Oh, by the way, that is where your idol
concocted his last and most notorious work.
The murder of an innocent young woman.
A promising musician with her entire career ahead of her.
Oh, and don't even think about going down there.
That door is off-limits.
(mysterious music)
(heavy breathing)
(frightening music)
(screaming)
As you can see, this is our kitchen.
We all take turns preparing the meals.
This is Whitney Taylor, our newest resident.
Lisa is a performance artist.
And Phillip paints abstracts.
I would think that you would
discourage this kind of work, Mrs. Briggs.
Not all contemporary art is populist tripe, Ms. Taylor.
Come along.
(thunder rolling)
(Whitney): Yep?
(Phillip:) Hey.
Hi.
What do you think?
(Whitney): It's... It's very nice, that's...
That's a cow in there, huh?
It's very nice.
It's angst.
Sorry.
- Phillip Lemley. - Whitney Taylor.
Enchanted.
Likewise.
Aren't you a little old for comics, Whitney?
Aren't you a little young to be a critic, Phillip?
You're right. I'm sorry.
So I guess we have something in common, huh?
Really? What's that?
A great big thorn in our side: Mrs. Briggs.
She doesn't think much of me, either.
Why not?
Because I'm brilliant.
But alas, my lady,:
I am just a mere child and a
pawn of the cruel trappings of our Mrs. Briggs.
- Come on. - Where?
To my opening.
- Your opening? - Yes.
Every evening a group of us gather
to critique each other's work.
It's the one time we're supposed to share what we're doing.
And I'm sure you'll find the comments most enlightening.
(Mrs. Briggs): The excess of flamboyance of the
coloration of your painting detracts
from the power of the narrative
and the true glory of the painting.
Could you repeat that in English?
It's elegant. Powerful.
And deceptively simple.
It has this amazing otherness.
Alright, give me the paintings or the broad gets it.
I'm flattered; you really think they're that valuable?
(gunshot) (screams)
What on earth are you doing?!
Can it, lad?!
Now hand them over. I really mean business.
Jesus, Phillip, give him the paintings!
Nu. No, he's bluffing.
Don't count on it, lady.
You're not going to shoot her.
You want to take that chance?
That gun you're so proud of is a .357 Magnum.
Give the lady a cigar.
- Sn whit? -...
The cylinder holds six bullets.
You just fired one.
The rest of the cells are empty.
That gun isn't even loaded.
You are very observant. Very.
I want to thank you all very much.
I can continue with my scene now.
You've been very, very helpful.
- Thank you. - Oh, Norman, you fool!
(Mrs. Briggs): You've destroyed a work of...
- Lisa, what is that- - That's Norman Michelsky.
Ex-private eye and tomorrow's Raymond Chandler.
(laughter)
Sometimes he gets blocked and he says
it helps to act things out so we humor him.
(giggling) I just treat it as an exercise.
(whirring)
Well, Whitney Taylor, it's been a long time.
Not nearly long enough, Amanda.
Still drawing the funnies?
Some people never outgrow certain things.
Some things get better with age, Amanda.
I've stuck with the drawing.
Of course you have. I always knew you would.
You had such a knack for kitsch.
I see you've changed directions again.
When our paths first crossed
you were, what, the reigning queen of the sculpture world?
Then it was action drawing, and, oh,
we can't forget your stint as actress, can we?
You are a real Renaissance woman, Amanda.
Well, careers are organic, Whitney.
(ominous music)
What the hell is she doing here?
The board of directors fell in love with her.
We'll have to do something about that, won't we?
You bet.
(thunder crashing)
(footsteps and snarling)
(frightening music)
(screaming)
(distant screaming)
(screaming intensifies)
(suspenseful music)
(screaming continues)
I'm sorry. Did I wake you?
It's a great way to try and cleanse out all the...
tension in my body.
I guess the others are just used to it
and I'll have to he a little bit more quiet for you.
(thunder rolls)
So what do you think of our cosy college?
Well, the atmosphere is nice, but, uh,
it's a bit stuffy for my taste.
- You mean Amanda? - Mm-hm.
I take it you two are old friends.
Hardly.
I think that if I ever had an enemy
in this whole world, it would be Amanda.
We knew each other in art school,
and she made every minute of my first year miserable.
What do you mean?
Well, Amanda was the hot thing on campus
when I first entered the school.
Not that she was very talented.
She was just great at dazzling people
with all the bullshit.
(laughter)
Even though I was only a first-year student,
my work ended up in the same gallery show
as Amanda's and I guess you could say
I garnered a bit more attention than she did.
Amanda always wanted everything,
even if it wasn't hers, and, um...
she had a way of taking things
that didn't belong to her,
and getting things that she really did not deserve.
Mrs. Briggs has sure warmed up to her.
Yeah, well like they say, birds of a feather.
Anyway we're not all that bad.
You get a chance to talk to Phillip yet?
Yeah, he's a sweet kid. (thunder crashes)
(giggling)
Oh, don't worry about Mrs. Briggs.
Don't worry about Amanda.
Just keep busy and your work will speak for itself.
Thank you, Lisa.
(eerie screech) What is that?
That's the ghost of Colin Childress.
Seriously, that's why the cellar door is off limits,
is because he haunts the scene of his gruesome crime.
Stop it.
Listen, I'm beat. I'm gonna go to bed.
- Okay, good night. - Good night, kiddo.
(eerie moan)
(thunder crashes) (suspenseful music)
(eerie music)
(Phillip): Boo! (Whitney screams)
on, God, Phillip, you little shit!
I heard you love to be frightened.
What are you doing down here?
SWINE fin you.
Phillip, isn't it past your bedtime?
(chuckling)
What are you doing down here?
What the hell is this?
Phillip, this is the place where Colin Childress
lived and worked.
Now according to the police, thirty years ago he
butchered a woman with an axe,
and then set himself on fire.
And this guy's your idol?
Well, Phillip, I don't believe he did that.
Then what happened, Sherlock?
- They were murdered. - How do you know that?
It's the only logical explanation.
(eerie moan)
That must be, the, uh...
Pines, right?
It's the ghost of Colin Childress. (snarls)
(Phillip chuckles)
Look, let's just get out of here-
- No. - okay, really.
No, Phillip, come on, this place is great.
I think I just found the ghost of Colin Childress.
What?
(ominous music) Look at this.
Shoot.
What are you doing?
Don't open it.
(Phillip): You never listen.
(coughing) So much for this ghost.
This must have been vacuum packed... Oh.
Oh; m?'
All this must have belonged to Colin Childress.
Why do I have this feeling that at any minute
he's going to come back and claim it?
(Whitney gasps)
(mysterious music) "Curses...
"of the Ancient Dead."
All the pages are stuck together.
- Is... Is that... - It's blood.
Great.
"He who has wisdom wonders not of the Beast,
"for nothing in Hell lives without man's consent.
"Woe unto you who would give the Beast form.
"To contemplate evil is to ask evil home."
I'm out of here.
That's it.
I don't see how anyone could spend ten minutes down here,
let alone work down here.
Crazy.
(Mrs. Briggs): No. Absolutely not.
Why not?
Because I said so.
Well, that's not good enough.
You sneak around here in the middle of the night
and invade an off limits area
and you expect me to grant you favors?
My dear, what you lack in talent you make up for in nerve.
Mrs. Briggs, be reasonable.
Nobody is using the cellar right now.
It's just collecting dust.
We can both benefit if I work down there.
The room I'm using now will be empty.
Then you can bring in someone else,
and you won't have to worry
about my displacing a real artist.
Alright, Whitney, you win.
But if you don't like it once you're down there,
you can only blame yourself.
I won't change my mind.
(Amanda gasps) Whitney... Hi.
(Mrs. Briggs): Amanda.
I have a little video project...
I'd like to commission for you.
(upbeat music)
I've never done a restoration before.
What do you think?
It's great.
- Yeah? - It's great, yeah.
It's terrific. Phillip, listen to this:
"It's part werewolf and vampire,
"demon and ghost.
"It would tear your throat open then drink your blond,
"and feast on your still-warm brains."
- That's sick. - It's terrifying,
but it's going to make a terrific comic book.
In fact, I'm certain this is
what Childress was working on when he died.
The roughs were probably destroyed in the fire.
Thank God for small favors, huh?
Now...
With the inspiration of this ancient curse,
Whitney Taylor is going to create the ultimate monster.
Good luck.
I'm off to create the ultimate finger painting.
(faint growling)
(growling)
(thud)
(heavy breathing)
(suspenseful music)
(heavy breathing)
What the hell are you doing down here?
Whitney...
I just wanted to see what you were up to.
You've been so secretive about it.
Bullshit.
Since when have you been interested in my work?
(Whitney): And you know the rules.
Ho one is allowed to look at anyone else's work
without an explicit invitation.
It's your work; I'm sorry.
I don't know what you're up to, Amanda,
but if I ever catch you down here again, I will...
hang you up by your eyelids and
wrench out your fingernails one by one, you got it?
Yeah, I do. I'm really scared.
(Whitney): Amanda...
Haven't you caused me enough trouble for one lifetime?
I really don't know what you mean.
You know exactly what I mean.
I still can't seem to forget about
a certain fellowship that was supposed to be mine.
Well, the committee seemed to have thought otherwise.
Yeah, after a little monetary persuasion from you.
Whitney, you've always been such a sore loser.
Get out of here before I really lose my temper.
Bye.
(wind howling) (melancholy music)
(thunder crashing)
(ominous music)
(heavy breathing)
Whitney Taylor is a plagiarist,
as this videotape so clearly demonstrates.
She cloistered herself in the cellar and
stole another artist's work.
(low growling) Now I am certain that the
Throckmorton Institute for the Arts has no place
(snarling) for an untalented hack
like Miss Taylor.
It is with true- (growling intensifies)
(Amanda screams)
(distorted laughter) (Amanda): Oh my God!
(Amanda): Oh dear...
(Amanda gasping)
(screaming)
(screaming continues)
(loud growling)
Will somebody help me?!
(Amanda shrieks)
(bones crunching) (grunting and chewing)
(Monster): Who's next'?
(melancholy music)
(growling) (frightening music)
(growling intensifies)
(Phillip): Wake up.
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
Morning. (Whitney groans)
Come on. Time to go to school.
(Phillip chuckles)
You know, you really disappoint me.
I've always heard grown women sleep in the nude.
(Whitney scoffs)
At least that's the way it is in my dreams.
What time is it?
If we hurry we can still make breakfast.
(Whitney): What do you think?
(Phillip): Hmm.
I think I'd hate to get on your had side.
(Mus. Briggs): Amanda? Amanda.
(knocking)
(ominous music) Amand...
Well, so this pet care products company wants to know
the formula of their newest competitor's flea collar.
So they hired me to dig out some info.
I find out that the competitor's top-of-the-line model,
the Peppy Puppy Deluxe, is gonna put the guy out of business.
I gotta get my hands on the formula.
But the competitor, he's shrewd.
He puts the formula in code.
It's no good to my man.
To make a long story short,
I end up tailing a German Shepherd
halfway across the country.
(laughter)
Has anyone here seen Amanda?
Well, not since last night.
- Maybe she went out. - Get real.
We're hundreds of miles from the nearest shopping mall.
Where's she gonna go?
She's been missing all morning and I'm really worried.
I'm not.
In fact, I don't care if I ever see her again.
Hey, kid, did you ever hear
Amanda and Whitney arguing?
Who hasn't?
They're at each other's throats.
(Phillip imitates cat yowling)
Whitney really hates that bitch, doesn't she?
I'll say.
You should see this cartoon she drew of her last night.
What about it?
- She drew Amanda. - What?
Sorry, I can't tell you.
Why not?
Because it's Whitney's work,
and if she wants you to see it...
she'll show it to you herself.
Huh.
I got a funny feeling we're not gonna...
be graced by Amanda's presence much longer.
(languid jazz music)
The tension between the two girls was
thick enough to cut with a knife.
But was Whitney Taylor... capable... of murder?
(upbeat music)
(Lisa): Death.
Death.
- What the hell... - Shh!
Death is sad.
It's a death knell.
A lament to the brevity of life.
It was interesting.
It was very moving, Lisa.
You must have put a lot of work into that,
because it was very hard on me.
(discordant music)
(ominous music)
(chuckling) I've got you now, Whitney.
I've got you now.
(Amanda): Whitney Taylor is a plagiarist,
as this videotape so clearly demonstrates.
She cloistered herself in the cellar and
stole another artist's work.
Son of a bitch.
She killed her for revenge.
The motive was revenge.
It is with... (law growling)
(screaming)
(snarling)
God.
(distorted laughter)
(frightening music)
(screaming)
(ominous music) (heavy breathing)
(chewing) (bones crunching)
(Monster): Shop me if you can.
Damn her.
- What's wrong? - Amanda, who else?
Who else?
(Phillip): What are you talking about?
(heavy breathing) (wind howling)
(knocking) (Whitney): Amanda!
I just knew it!
What the hell is she up to?
You tell me.
I don't know.
I don't know, but I swear to God,
I swear to God I'm gonna kill her.
Amanda stole my work from the cellar,
but how did she get a hold of my portfolio?
- I'm sure I don't know. - Bullshit.
You gave it to her.
Now both of you had it in for me
from the moment I got here.
Now what the hell is going on and where is she?
I assure you I don't know where Amanda is.
Well, maybe she's playing a joke on you.
(knocking) Come in.
Another interesting development.
Michelsky's nowhere in the house.
- Are you sure? - Yeah.
Unless he's suddenly developed a passion for hide-and-seek.
Well, you see?
Norman is probably working on an
elaborate scenario and he's stuck on one of his scenes,
and he and Amanda are testing it out.
Maybe.
If I find out that you're trying to hurt me,
I'm going straight to the board of directors,
and that, Mrs. Briggs, is a promise.
You know, usually when I'm angry
I can channel it into my work.
So I've noticed.
I am so upset I feel like I'm paralyzed.
Come on, let's hag the work and get out of here.
Go for a walk or something.
Oh, I can't do that, Phillip.
Come on, you're not getting anything done here anyway.
I'll tell you my life story.
- Really? - Uh-huh.
This I've got to hear.
- Your life story, huh? - Absolutely.
Is it interesting?
It started back in the, uh, early 1930's...
(Whitney laughs)
(upbeat music)
Have you seen Norman or Amanda?
For the last time, no.
Well, I am worried about-
Oh, who are you kidding?
Whitney told me that Amanda stole her things.
It's a cinch, the two of you are in cahoots
plotting something against Whitney.
- That's absurd. - Oh, is it?
You just didn't expect Whitney to find out.
My only concern-
(mockingly) Is for the reputation of this colony!
Well, Mrs. Briggs, you just might
have something to be concerned about now.
(laughter and footsteps)
(Whitney): Now, the real challenge for me
is to come up with interesting ways to kill people.
You're an authority in that area, right?
Yeah, lots of field work.
Plus, I have some great research material.
I see what you mean by interesting.
(Whitney): Huh?
You have really outdone yourself this time.
What are you talking about?
(Phillip): Your latest masterpiece.
It's very intense.
(ominous music) I didn't draw this.
Oh, come on, don't be embarrassed, Whit.
It's your way of dealing with aggression, right?
At least it's constructive.
It's okay.
I'm serious, Phillip. I've never seen this before.
(suspenseful music)
Whitney, it's really not like you to be modest.
I'm telling you, Phillip, I did not draw that.
Then who did?
- Childress's ghost? - Shh. Listen.
Okay... "He who has wisdom wonders not of the Beast,
"for nothing in Hell lives without man's consent."
God. "Woe unto you who would give the Beast form.
"To contemplate evil is to ask evil home."
(frightening music) (growling)
Hello? Is somebody there?
Not again. Phillip, is that you?
Alright, you little maniac, I know you're out there.
Come on, kid, game's over. I need my towel.
My hair is wet.
Okay, Phillip, ready or not, here I come.
Whitney, come on now. What are you talking about?
Phillip, the curse is real.
What curse? What are you saying?
It threatens anybody
who dares to give the Beast form.
Don't you see?
I drew it.
I gave it life and now...
and now Amanda is gone and Norman is gone.
Wait. Wait a minute.
Are you trying to say to me
that a monster you drew just stepped off the page
and devoured Amanda and Norman?
That's right.
God, Phillip, that's what...
That's what killed Colin Childress
O years ago, he probably...
(ominous music)
Oh NY"
Oh my God, Phillip.
(Whitney): It's Lisa.
It's Lisa!
(Phillip): Wait!
(suspenseful music)
Phillip?
Where are you?
(low growling)
(Lisa): Hey, this isn't funny anymore.
(screaming and snarling)
(screaming) (bones crunching)
(distorted laughter)
(frantic music) Lisa!
Wait, wait, wait, stand back.
(Whitney): Lisa!
Lisa!
(Whitney screams)
Time to go, Whit!
(snarling)
(Whitney screams)
Shit! Oh, God.
Phillip, it's not gonna let us out of here.
I hate to tell you this but if we don't get out of here
- it's over for us! - I know.
There's only one chance.
We have to get rid of it.
What?
(Whitney): Shit.
(thunder crashing)
on, God, Phillip, Phillip, it makes sense.
Childress made the same mistake.
If I... By giving that monster a physical presence,
even a two-dimensional one,
we offered it a vessel that it could occupy
in the real world.
- That's great. - Oh, God. Okay.
According to the curse...
the Beast is spawned by man's imagination.
Oh, God, it's literally been ingesting creative energy
to keep itself alive.
Michelsky's, Lisa's, and Amanda's.
Amanda?
She's gonna give that thing diarrhea.
Wait, what are we gonna do?
What are we gonna do, Phillip? We're gonna...
We're gonna destroy its physical form.
(frightening music)
(heavy breathing)
(snarling) (Whitney shrieks)
Phillip?
Phillip!
Oh my God.
Oh, no.
(Mrs. Briggs): Hello? Anyone down there?
(frightening music)
(Whitney): It was the creature all along.
It killed Amanda and Norman and Lisa
and now it's got Phillip. We've got to do something.
Slow down, Whitney.
You're not making any sense.
Look, I have searched high and low for all of them.
But they'll he back.
Haven't you been listening to me?
I certainly have.
Comic books and monsters and... oh.
That's a nasty cut.
I have some disinfectant here somewhere.
I'll look for it.
(Mrs. Briggs): You know, I changed my mind
about those comic hooks.
I've been going through a lot of changes lately.
(growling) (suspenseful music)
(Whitney shrieks)
(grunting) (bones snapping)
(monster laughs)
(Monster:) You're mine now.
(screaming) (snarling)
(Whitney): No...
(distorted laughter)
(clattering) (Whitney shouting)
Nu!
(distorted chuckling) (Monster): Whitney...
(monster groans)
(ethereal hum)
(panting)
(roaring)
(monster screams)
(melancholy music) Phillip...
on, Phillip.
Phillip, I'm sorry.
(sobbing) Oh, Phillip...
(smack) (chains rattling)
I'm sorry, Phillip.
(weeping) I'm sorry.
(Phillip): You call that a kiss?
I'm not talking about some quick peck on the cheek here.
I'm talking about a real kiss.
Oh! (triumphant music)
Now that's more like it!
Hey, hey, hey. Do you mind?
On, Phillip, thank God you're back.
Thank you.
You're the one that did it. Now look:
I don't want you to think
this means you own me or anything, okay?
- I'm still my own man? - What a guy.
(laughing) What a guy-
So what's next?
I mean, what about the others?
Looks like the hall's in your court.
Or in your case, the pen's in your hand.
What about that thing?
Alright, one step at a time, okay?
I've only got two hands.
- Okay, - Okay?
Hey, hey, hey',
get some mouthwash or something.
Who first?
Not Amanda. (laughing)
(happy music)
(exciting music)
If I don't destroy him like they did 30 years ago,
he's gonna do it again.
Trashcan's right over there.
(snarling)
Oh, I'm gonna burn you, you bastard.
We're gonna make you burn.
(snarling)
(monster moaning)
(monster screaming)
(triumphant music)
(screaming)
No! Phillip!
(distorted laughter)
(Lisa whimpering)
(screaming)
(Amanda screaming)
(Mus. Briggs): Mo! No! (summing)
(Phillip screaming) (monster snarls)
(screaming)
(sad music)
(distorted chuckle)
(Monster): Wherever there is imagination,
I will dwell.
(frightening music)
(monster roars) No!
(chewing) (bones crunching)