INT. GREY ROOM. NIGHT.

In a cold dark room an apron’s bow is tied firm by THE BUTCHER. His Two heavy hands grip a knife and a butcher’s steel and clang both instruments together. Sparks fly with each clang. Blood drips into a pool on the floor from a mound of meat upon a table.

EXT. SEASIDE CAFE. NIGHT.

A vast pebbled beach consumes the landscape, it’s coastline expanding as far as the eye can see. The occasional wooden groyne decorates the beach, encrusted with sea debris from the cold water which laps against them. Rain cascades down across the sea front unyielding.

Atop the beach sits a cafe. Detailed with a recent glossy coat of blue and white paint upon it’s rustic wooden overcoat and brickwork chimney. Inside, the place is brightly lit, it’s warm bright lights escaping through every one of the large windows.

The cafe is decorated with several neon lights including a green and red sign where a crab, crudely animated, dances upon it. A large blue and red ‘open sign’ stands bright amongst the darkness. It noisily flickers a few times before the ‘O’ burns out.

The cafe stands out of the darkness alone, besides a street lamp in the cafe’s car park which is situated beside it like an oasis amongst the black.

An old classic turquoise car pulls into view with 80’s techno music playing. the rain’s severity exemplified as it rains across the bright beams of the car’s headlights. The vehicle pulls in under the street light. The headlights and the music extinguish as the engine begins to power down. All grows quiet beside the window screen wipers which continue to sway.

INT. CAR. NIGHT.

Inside we see a MAN of average height, late 30’s. He’s slouched back in his chair looking up at the car’s ceiling as he hears rain ricochet off of the bonnet.

He is dressed casually, in heavy duty leather brown boots, dark blue jeans and a grubby tan coloured denim jacket. His face is strong and pronounced however overgrown with facial hair and covered in filth as if he hadn’t had the chance to clean himself for about a week.

A sad expression stains his face, his eyes empty. The last remainder of a cigarette protrudes from his mouth, emitting a small vapour.

He blinks several times to wake himself up and reaches for the glove compartment. As he unhooks the latch various items erupt from the tightly packed space and fall onto the floor. This includes a pack of cigarettes, a can of beer and various papers along with a photograph.

His face is panic-stricken. He starts rummaging around the mess of the car floor, amongst cigarette butts, empty beer cans and various food wrappings. The state is comparable to what you might imagine a teenager’s car whose been on a bender with his mates for a few weeks.

He finds the corner of a photograph and gently frees it from the mess. He turns it over carefully, the picture shows a cleaner version of himself, a few years younger in a black suit. On his right shoulder sits a little girl, no younger than 6 in a white dress with a beaming rosy smile. His left wraps around a woman with long brown hair in a wedding dress, also smiling. Confetti falls down upon them.

His eyes begin to tear up as a faint smile briefly appears on his face, however it disappears as quickly as it emerged. He puts the picture back safely in the compartment and looks out to the warm light of the cafe through his blurred windshield as the wipers come to a stop. The time is 4:00am.

He wipes his face with his hand and steps out of the car. locking it, he rushes toward the cafe door. Climbs the small set of steps and ventures inward.

The light above the door attracts a small moth. As it begins to crawl it quickly burns and falls to the floor.

INT. CAFE. NIGHT.

The bell rings as he walks in. The cafe is void of music.  Inside, the cafe is brightly lit and synergises with it’s exterior’s quaint wooden aesthetic. A long ‘L’ shape blue counter table surrounds the bar. Tables and chairs decorated with red and white table cloths are also situated around the room. A few lights hang above the counter. Several stools are propped up around the ‘L’ shape.

Three people are seated inside. Two men around the counter table, one a FISHERMAN with muddy green wellingtons, he looks like he’s in his early 50’s. The other a FARMER, dressed in a dark green quilted jacket, grey corduroys and a cap, mid 40’s.

In the corner of the room is a tall ATTRACTIVE WOMAN with her hair in a ponytail, she sits cross legged reading a newspaper. On her table is an empty plate with a few residual cake crumbs and a hot chocolate. She slightly lowers the paper and spies the man, who looks away instantly after being spotted.

He notices that the farmer and the fisherman are both staring at him anxiously. Awkwardly he gives them both a gratuitous nod then finds a seat far from them on the counter. As he picks up a menu he notices the men are still looking at him, although he gives it little notice and returns to examining the menu.

The menu has limited variation, all the products being meat based. Every meal has been given a specific number. Out of the corner of his eye he spots a woman’s right hand on the table, taping her index finger impatiently. Strangely enough her hand is missing a pinky finger. Startled, he lowers the menu to see she is a WAITRESS. Ginger, mid twenties, dressed in uniform of a white shirt, burgundy skirt and a red apron.

He looks up at her face and is shocked to see her concerned expression. He opens his mouth in an attempt to ask her something but she ignores it and simply looks down toward the menu, awaiting his order. He shrugs off his confusion and points to his choices. (Number 8: burger and number 18: coffee). She notes down the numbers and money is exchanged.

She heads into the kitchen behind the counter. After a few seconds he hears the sound of meat hitting the pan and glances toward the two men who have just been served their food. The two are no longer paying much attention to him.

The attractive blonde woman in the corner, now finished her meal puts down her paper and exits the cafe, turning right. The fisherman and the farmer seem more at ease through their body language and track her leave until she is no longer visible from the cafe. It is eerily quite.

He is momentarily distracted, The muffled sound of a bell ringing can be heard. The sound becomes clear as he realises the waitress is there, ringing a small silver bell. She looks down at him with an angry stare and puts down his burger with a side of chips and salad. She then picks up his coffee, now finished filling up from the machine, and places it down. She immediately walks away.

The meal is abnormally large. He licks his lips and reaches across the counter to the sauce box. He picks up a bottle of ketchup, takes off the top bun and spreads it across the layer of cheese atop the burger. He goes into bite it, taking a big mouthful and starts to chew.

He slows his chewing as a look of concern grows upon his face. He puts his fingers to his lips and pulls out something, a long brown hair. He examines it, pulling it to between his hands. He looks up annoyed to take out his frustration upon the waitress, however she is no where to be seen and the light behind the counter is off. Not a stir can be heard behind it.

He continues his mouthful before grinding to a halt once again, biting into something hard. He puts his fingers to his mouth again and pulls it out, a bloody tooth.

He examines it in horror, gazing around the cafe at the other two men, who are both eating their burgers ravenously now. He starts dissecting it and pulling it to pieces, all seems normal until he glimpses a bit of skin, he starts pulling at it. A pinky finger is revealed.

EXT. SEASIDE CAFE. NIGHT.

The man clambers out into the car park, falling to his knees he sticks his fingers down his throat, making himself throw up. Disorientated, the sound is distorted until a loud scream from the back of the building breaks the silence.

INT. SECURITY MONITOR. NIGHT

He looks in the direction of the noise then back at the cafe and begins to run toward the source.

EXT. SEASIDE CAFE. NIGHT.

The back door is partially fenced off with a small light above the door.

He waits beside the fence, panting, he hears a commotion from the other side. The noise soon dies down and he glimpses through a gap in the fence. Making out the blonde attractive woman from earlier being dragged away by a large disfigured BUTCHER with a white apron stained in blood splats.

The door slams shut and after a few seconds he follows suit, sliding a plank across, he enters through the door.

INT. BACK ROOM CORRIDOR. NIGHT.

As he steps in he is surprised by what he sees. A blood red painted corridor with deep oak floorboards, lit dimly by candle-esque light bulbs hanging from the walls. A clear contrast from the bizarre but semi-normal set of the cafe.

Non-diegetic surrealistic but tense music can be heard by the audience. He creeps to the first door, a thin light escapes through the crack. He gently pushes it ajar.

INT. GREY ROOM. NIGHT.

Inside is a bleak grey room, one light bulb hangs precariously from the ceiling. It’s the waitress from before, now equipped with a mask over her mouth. She has a chopping knife, cutting into a slab of meat with pink skin and long blonde hair, blood splattering everywhere.

As she cuts she hears a gasp and sharply looks toward the door, however she sees nothing, and continues her butchering.

INT. BACK ROOM CORRIDOR. NIGHT.

He runs further down the corridor and turns right into a more darkly lit area and bends over, trying not to vomit. Unbeknown to him the lights begin to brighten. We see the silhouette of The Butcher as the music grows tense. He manages to find the strength to stand and now he spots the The Butcher walking toward him.

Terrified he begins to run back to the exit, the butcher giving chase, stampeding after him. He runs more and more frantically, desperation growing more and more prominent on his face. He reaches the door but it’s too late, The Butcher is upon him and hits him to the ground.

The man tries to crawl away however The Butcher doesn’t allow it and holds up a large knife in his right hand and a red apron in the left.

The man flails his arms desperately in attempt to stop the butcher however he only edges closer. Now standing over him he lifts his right hand, presenting the knife, then lowers it and lifts the left up, presenting an apron. The music stops. The man looks confused as the butcher repeats the action more aggressively.

The man hesitates then gestures toward the apron as he sees it for a third time. The butcher looks to it then back at the man, he drops the apron onto the floor and extends his left hand to help him up.

Frightened, the man extends his hand back also. The Butcher then retracts all of his fingers beside the pinky finger into a fist, the man does the same. The two intertwine fingers in the style of a ‘pinky promise’.

FADE TO BLACK.

(The sound of a knife being swung and cutting flesh can be heard).

INT. SEASIDE CAFE. NIGHT.

A slim middle aged women with brown hair peaks around the front door, she looks surprised that the cafe is still open. She glances at her watch to check the time, 4:00am. Inside, a few people are seated eating burgers, her stomach rumbles and her face lights up at the sight.

She walks over to the counter table and takes a seat as she begins to examine the menu, licking her lips at the variety of meat products available.

A male waiter comes over to serve her. We see glimpses of his appearance, casually dressed in denim, wearing a red apron. As he lifts his notepad to take her order we see his overgrown beard. She notices he is without a pinky finger…

CUT TO BLACK.

THE END.