FeardotCom Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the FeardotCom script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Stephen Dorff movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of FeardotCom. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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FeardotCom Script











Thanks for the present, Bennie.



I guess we're in the same business.



Okay. I'm on my way.



Don't want to keep the roaches waiting.



-Hey, Mike. Watch your step.

-Yeah, yeah.



-These tracks are still Iive?

-Williams, over here.



Jesus Christ.

What happened to him?



I don't think he got eIectrocuted.



What's going on with his eyes?



Don't know yet.

We'll have to wait for the autopsy.



What did this guy see to Ieave

an expression Iike that?



Any witnesses?



Not to the accident. A guy went to grab

a paper out of the newsstand.



When he came back,

the victim was Iike this.



According to this guy, his eyes

were bIeeding prior to the swan dive.



-Must have been into computers.

-His name's PoIidori.



He and another guy wrote the book.



Must have tried to stop the train with

it. Had to pry it out of his fingers.



Now all we need is the Ieading Iady.



-You want one?

-No, thanks.



Give it up, Mike. The Feds

are covering that now. It's over.



The Feds haven't done shit.



Not hearing from him

doesn't mean he's stopped.



You're pissed off because this Doctor guy

keeps sending you Iove Ietters.



Everyone has cases they can't crack.

Don't Iet it fuck with your head.



What now?



Get him out of here. Put him

in a hoIding pen, an empty one.



And get someone to transIate

whatever Ianguage he's speaking.



Jesus Christ.



Check him for a passport, an ID,

something in fucking EngIish.



It says he's a German exchange student,

Dieter Schrader.



Lives over in the Village.

Here's the address.



Call the heaIth bunnies, DOH.



Find out if there's some bug going

around, something with bIoody eyes.



They can send someone to meet me

at his apartment.



Sykes! Leave the doughnut shop here.

Let's go! Come on.






Know any German?



-I can sing ''She Loves You'' in German.

-Great. That'll heIp.






Anyone here?






-I wouIdn't touch her just yet.




Actually, Terry Huston,

Department of HeaIth.



-Detective Reilly. You got here fast.




Goddamn it.






-What do you make of this?

-This is really fascinating.



She's dispIaying possibIe signs of a

hemorrhagic virus. Something Iike EboIa.



Excuse me.




-"Reilly, we got a problem."



Sykes! Hello? Sykes? What are

you doing? Call the coroner.



Yeah, right.






What is it?



You better get back to the station.



I got a dead girI, a woman from DOH

saying we have a serious probIem.



-I'm not going anywhere.

-"I think you better get back here."



And bring the DOH with you.



Do you have a pIastic bag?



-That's evidence.




Excuse me. Excuse me.



-That's German. It means ''murderer.''

-I got that. What's with the   ?



Don't know.



BarIow, what happened here?



The guys said he was taIking

to himseIf. That's it.



We'll know more when we get him

to the morgue.



All right, stand back.






ShouId we be in one of those suits

they're wearing?



-We're probabIy aIready infected.

-So we couId all just be dying here?



What is it with you peopIe?

You just Iet this shit run wiId?






Serum paneI is all cIear.

It's not a virus.



So we're back at square one.



We've got the camcorder.



Sorry about the space patroI,

but we had to be sure.



No probIem. I Iove needIes stuck in me.

It's a hobby of mine.



So you Iike working with bugs

and viruses?



Someone's got to do it. Otherwise,

disease spreads out of controI.



You do the same thing.



At Ieast I can see what I'm deaIing with.

This other shit creeps me out.



I hate germs and....






What about bugs?



I pretty much hate them too.



-You know you sIeep with bugs?




You sIeep with bugs.



No, I don't, actually.



Yeah, you do. Everyone does.



Dust mites. They're in your carpets,

in your bed.



They Iook Iike IittIe Iobsters.

In fact, they're distant reIatives.



-You're enjoying this, aren't you?

-I just don't get out much.



I can see that.



I'm sorry.



I'm being inconsiderate,

making you uncomfortabIe.



I'm so used to seeing through a Iens,

I forget how intimidating a camera can be.



I'm doing a IittIe fiIm

at the WiIton Theatre, and....



You know, I can't say this

without it sounding Iike a Iine, but....



I was fiIming you because you

happen to be the perfect Ieading Iady.



Do you mean that?



I can't promise anything...



...but come by the theater tonight...



...I'll put you in front of the camera,

see what happens.



You have to punch this button.

Then you can record us.



Hard to beIieve that's the same guy.






-I can watch this Iater.

-Wait a second.



The guy's Iosing it.



Oh, my God.















The sun's out.



Another storm coming.




I got a ticket.



I think I can take care of this

for you.






So I'll see you Iater?






Terry, couId you come in here?



Mr. Turnbull?



Did you want something?









What happened with the German kids?

Is it EboIa?



No. I don't even think it's a virus.



-What, then?

-I don't know.



Are you okay?



Yeah, I'm just tired.



Let me know if you hear anything, okay?






-Where did your computer go?




I sent it in for repair.



-PIaying on the Internet too much?




Well, I'm gonna go finish my report.






Cause of death appears to be a stroke

brought on by a surge of adrenaIine.



No signs of vioIence

except the bIeeding.



Hi, you must be Terry Huston.

I'm Thana Brinkman.



One moment.



Severe rupturing to the ocuIar

bIood vesseIs. I can't account for it.



Heart is compIeteIy engorged.



There's a massive hemorrhage

to the cerebraI cortex.



Death was instantaneous.

End report.



-So it was a stroke.

-UnIess Iab tests find something eIse.



There's no known virus,

bacteria or viruIent protein.



Excuse me.






We have another one.



Oh, my God.

It's Eddie Turnbull.



Did your husband have

any medicaI probIems?



Any condition that wouId contribute

to his sudden death?



Other than the chain-smoking

and the chronic stress?



I tried to warn him. It never bothered

him untiI these Iast coupIe of days.



He got kind of sick,

started seeing things.



-What kind of things?

-Crazy things.



Said someone was watching him.



Kept taIking about a IittIe girI.

There was no IittIe girI.



I think he worked himseIf to death.



AIways working.

AIways on his computer.



You know what's odd, though?



It was Iike he was afraid of it.



Mrs. Turnbull, do you mind

if we take this?



Now, you and I share

a great responsibiIity...



...to them.



They've come to watch

but aIso to Iearn.



We will provide a Iesson...



...that reducing reIationships...



...to anonymous, eIectronic impuIses...



...is a perversion.



But here, we offer intimacy.



So tell us about yourseIf,

who you are, where you're from.



Do you have brothers and sisters?



Did you dream of being a ballerina

when you grew up?



You're gonna kill me, aren't you?



Of course I'm gonna kill you.



The Internet offers birth,

sex, commerce...



...seduction, proseIytizing,







Death is a IogicaI component.



An intimate experience

made more so...



...by knowing the victim.



So, Karen...



...tell us your hopes and dreams.



Nothing. Nothing in common.



PoIidori had a bad chiIdhood,

some juveniIe stuff.



CIeaned up at tech schooI.



German kids seem cIean. One was

arrested for weed, big surprise.



Turnbull didn't even have

a traffic ticket. I don't know.



Let's start over.

We gotta be missing something.



They all had the same pattern

of bIeeding, right?



They all had burnt computers.



Maybe this guy was trying

to tell us something.



We gotta get these computers

checked out.



I know a forensic programmer, Denise

Stone. She's worked with me before.



She might be abIe to heIp.



We need to find a common Iink

on these computers.



-They Iook pretty fried, and this one....

-You think you can do it?



The data shouId still be retrievabIe.



UnIess the fiIes have been corrupted.



I'll see what I can do.



-You're the best.

-I know.



Turn around, Bennie.



I don't want you watching this.



Forty-eight hours.   .



Do you like to watch?



Okay, I think we get the idea.



I'm waiting for you.




Come and find out.



Don't you want to play with me?



Do you want to hurt me?



You're lying.



How enticing the smell

of cheap perfume can be.



Or is that fear?



I'd Iike to say I can feeI your pain...



...but I can't.



I can't feeI anything.



I've been deprived of that somehow.



I know what I shouId feeI.



I just can't feeI it.



You can end this Iesson whenever

you wish. SimpIy ask me to kill you.



She wants to Iive.



Very well.



Let the Iesson commence.




-It's you.




-What's wrong?



I'm fine. I just came to give you this.



-Where did you get this?

-I was there.



What do you mean?



Denise, tell me.



The one thing all the victims

have in common...



-...is the Fear site.

-That doesn't make any sense.



-He wouIdn't use the same site twice.




The Doctor.



-Who's the Doctor?

-A skeIeton in my cIoset.



It's a Iive-cam death site.



That's not Iike Turnbull.

Why wouId he watch that?



PeopIe Iove to see death.



Why do you think the ratings are

so high on reaIity disaster shows?



Maybe it's a way to find out about

death before it's your turn.



I gotta go.



Wait. Do you think you can trace

who's running the site?




-Are you sure you're okay?



Yeah, I'm fine. Fine.






Be carefuI. We'll see you soon.



-Hey, come on.

-Where we going?



I did some reading Iast night.



-We're Iooking for Frank Bryant.

-Over there in the back, hon.



-Last tabIe.

-Okay, thanks.



Frank Bryant?



Are you Mr. Frank...






-How can I heIp you, officers?

-How did you know we were cops?



Nobody ever says my name

that way except cops.



We're not here to cause

you any troubIe.



We read your book,

the parts we couId understand.



Really? I didn't reaIize

my book was still being soId.



-We found it on a dead man.

-A guy named PoIidori.






PoIidori is dead?



What can you tell us about him?



A good guy.



A decent friend.



Why wouId he be cIutching your book

as if it were the HoIy GraiI?



I couIdn't make much

sense of it myseIf.



That's because it was a Ioad of shit.



I needed a new car,

so I wrote the book.



I was driving aIong one day, Iooking

at the teIephone poIes and the wires...



...and I came up with this idea.



What wouId happen if you connected

a whoIe bunch of computers together?



You'd get one big computer.

Like a supercomputer.



A neuronet.



PoIidori and I used to spend

Iong nights taIking about it.



He came to beIieve that the Web

couId receive energy...



-...store it, send it out.

-Energy. What kind?



-Here you go.

-Thanks, doll.



Fuck if I know. I mean, you know....



Negative energy, magnetic fieIds...



...psychic energy steaIing

your souI. You know?




-PoIidori beIieved he knew...



...where that site existed.



But then again,

PoIidori was fucked up.



And now...



...he's dead.



Do you remember the name of the site?



-No idea.

-Do you think he was right?



I never beIieved a word of it.



But then, I'm drunk by   p.m.



It's noon.



Hey, I'm ahead of the game.



Thank you for your time,

Mr. Bryant.



-If we need to reach you....

-I'll be here.



-I have no reason to Ieave.




Oh, my God.



She was the first. Jeannie Richardson.

He killed her on the Fear site.



He tortures his victims

till they beg to die.



-This is the Doctor, right?




His name's AIistair Pratt.

He was thrown out of medicaI schooI.



Nine months, he fucked with me.

I never even got cIose.



How come?



After every killing, he'd change

the site. We couIdn't trace it.



What time did PoIidori die?



-Three a.m.

-Turnbull was Iater, about   right?



 :   .



Based on that, these victims

died two days to the minute...



...after they Iogged on to the site.

The German kid was trying to tell us.



Shit. Denise.



Come on, Denise.



-You trying to get ahoId of Denise?




She was supposed to drop something off.

She didn't show--



Get units over there now!



-What you taIking about?

-I said get units over there now!



-She's not there. She's not answering.

-Keep trying.



-Just diaI it again.

-I am. I just tried. She's not there.



I shouId never have

gotten her invoIved.



I shouId have fucking warned her.



-It's not your fauIt.

-I still don't get one thing.



Everybody died    hours after they went

on to that site, right? Everybody.



Denise doesn't fit the pattern.



Maybe it was easier to die

than face whatever is on the website.



What do you mean?



Eddie Turnbull was terrified

of car crashes.



It was a chiIdhood thing.

He was manic about it.



I did some research. Did you know the

German girI was terrified of drowning?



-But she didn't drown.

-She died in water.



Maybe she died of her greatest fear.



I don't know, Terry.

I don't know, I think you're reaching.




-Denise got too cIose.



Someone killed her.

It's as simpIe as that.



Can you promise me one thing?



That you won't visit that site?



God, Denise.



Do you like to watch?



Do you want to see more?



Do you want to hurt me, Mike?






I know who you are,

and I know what you really want.



Time to play.

Time for us to become one.



How do I pIay?



Find me.



You have    hours.






What happens if I Iose?



You die.



Do you want to play?



What are you afraid of?









Sorry, did I scare you?



Miss, your gIove.






The website. I saw her.



-Who did you see?

-The dead girI.



-What dead girI?

-Jeannie Richardson.



I saw her.



Bryant was onIy haIf right.



-What do you mean?

-It's not just energy.



-I don't understand.

-She's out there, aIive in the wires.



If the will is strong, it can Iive

in the objects around it.



You don't go there, all right?

Promise me.



Tell me you won't go there!



Don't go there!

Promise me you won't go there!



Forty-eight hours.



Hello, Terry. Are you ready to play?



Why are you killing Mike?






GuiIty of what?






Are you ready to play?









-Hey, Sykes.




I need to take a Iook

at the Doctor fiIes.



Let's go in here.






The Feds are covering this now.



I suppose you think

you can do better?



Mike doesn't Iike peopIe fucking

with his-- Stop! All right!






Knock yourseIf out.



Jeannie Richardson.



Yeah, she was beautifuI.



Yeah, Jeannie. I checked out

her addresses. Shit hoIes.



Artist/modeI, my ass.



You, though...



...you're a different story.



Will you shut the fuck up?



Oh, my God.



Joseph StaIin said that the death

of one person is a tragedy...



...the death of a million: a statistic.



Your death will give meaning

to all us sad, IittIe Iives out there.



See? The audience is never wrong.



They smell death



Mrs. Richardson?



Do you have a moment

to taIk about your daughter?



This is Jean Marie on the day

of her First Communion.



This is the Jeannie I know, not what

they said. They didn't know her.



So beautifuI.



She was a happy chiId

despite her condition.



-Are you okay?

-Yes, I'm fine.



Condition? Did you say, condition?



Jean Marie was a hemophiIiac.



Without medication, she couId

bIeed to death from just a scratch.



Left her scared to death

of anything sharp.



-Scissors or knives.

-Yes. That ball....



She aIways had that thing with her.

WillfuI chiId, wouIdn't give it up.



It wasn't untiI she discovered boys

that she finally Ieft it behind.



CouId you take a Iook at these

pictures for me and tell me...



...if there's any pIaces

that you recognize in them?



It's the oId PoeIzig steeI mill

two miIes down the road.



Jeannie used to pIay there as a chiId.



What are you watching?



You seem Iike you were expecting me.



Where is she?






Mike Reilly, where is he?



Excuse me? Can I heIp you?



Just tell me where he is!



PIease caIm down,

or I'll have to ask you to Ieave.



Yeah, okay, I'm sorry.



I'm sorry, I just--

I really need to see him right now.



Okay. First door on your Ieft.






Hello, Terry.



Are you ready to play?



-Goddamn you, what do you want?

-"Play the game. Find me."



Where are you?



Time is running out.



Leave me aIone! Where are you?



Oh, my God.



Do you like to watch?



I am waiting for you.






Come and find out.



Don't you want to play?



Do you want to hurt me?



You're lying.



Oh, my God.



I found you. I found your body.

I did what you wanted.



I know who you are.



And I know what you really want.



Time to play.



Time for us to become one.



Find me.



Oh, my God.



What time is it?



You shouIdn't Ieave

your front door open.



-Oh, my God.

-It invites illegaI entry.









What did you do?






-You just ran out, didn't you?

-More Iike a sIow trot.



You gotta go back.



No, they can't heIp me now.



-I'm drifting in and out more and more.




-I'm running out of time.

-We gotta go.



-Where are we going?

-The morgue.



Are you two okay?

You don't Iook good.



You shouId see it from our side.



I just thought once we found the body,

that wouId be an end to it.



No, there's got to be more to this.



She had a reason.



Someone performed an autopsy

on this body a Iong time ago.



-Look at the incisions.

-It's AIistair.



He cut her open whiIe

she was still aIive.



Textbook procedure.



He cut out her viscera.

Then he bagged them and sewed her up.



What's that?



She must have swallowed it

before he killed her.



''The guiIty must be punished.''



So she didn't want a buriaI.



She wants revenge.






Two days.



Two days is how Iong AIistair

tortured Jeannie before she died.



Knives, Mike.



She died her worst nightmare.



Shit, Terry, I'm Iosing it.



-I'm having troubIe staying here.

-HoId on, okay?



Wait here.



Come on.




as it is sometimes called....



Electrodes are attached

to the patient's head....



Oh, my God!






I found him.



Are you in, or what?







-It better be important.

-"Sykes, I need your help."



What? I'm winning here.



-"Look, I found the Doctor."

-So? Call the Feds.



There's no time for that.

I need backup.



All right.



-Where is it?

-"A cooling tower. Poelzig steel mill."



I Iove watching these oId tapes.



Jeannie Richardson.



She was my favorite.



You see, I beIieve

death shouId be repuIsive...



...so we don't grow too fond of it.






...all this couId be avoided...



...if you're ready.



No tears. Take joy in the fact

that you've done great good here.



You asked for death...



...so I'm no Ionger your murderer.



The time has come, Karen.



Drop it now!



-Drop the fucking knife now!

-BIess my souI.



Reilly, so gIad you couId

make it to the party.



-You brought a date.

-Get away from her.



I'm not gonna fire

a warning shot!



Guns are so impersonaI and artIess.



If you want to hurt someone intimateIy,

you have to get up-cIose and personaI.



You aIready tortured her. Shooting her

wouId be doing her a favor.



You won't shoot.

You suffer from the curse of hope.



Yeah, I got hope. I hope my first shot

bIows your fucking head off!



If you kill her, you'll have

no one to hide behind.



I don't want to spoiI things,

but if you're...



...expecting the cavaIry to save

the day, you're gonna be disappointed.



The cavaIry's right there.



Oh, my God!






Not a very nice person, Mr. Sykes.

Appalling eating habits.



Too bad this show aIways

has the same ending.



No, not this time.



Someone wants revenge.






I guess the fans Iove a comeback.






Look at me. Stay with me.

HoId on. HoId on.



Stay with me. Mike.

Mike, Iook at me.



HoId on. HoId on! Look at me! No!



Attractive women Iike you

sell through the roof.



Just Iike Jeannie.









You're dead! I killed you!









...time to feeI.









Time to die.



Oh, my God.



No, Mike.








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