Round 6 - Cult Classics
QL film night, anyone? We have eight films on offer, which will hopefully satisfy everyone's tastes, whether you're watching for the first or hundredth time! Grab your popcorn, find a comfortable spot and settle in for a marathon film fest!
Each position has a different film assigned to them, which you must use as inspiration for your story. (The story does not need to directly follow the plot of the film if you don't want it to.)
Position: Beater 2
Beater 2: Frankenstein
Word Count: 1105
Prompts:
5. (word) bloodthirsty
9. (word) incident
Brutus Malfoy was a boastful, yet mysterious man. Of course, being it the 1600s, he walked around talking about how wizards were superior to Muggles, bragging about being Pure-blood. But that was outside the walls of Malfoy Manor. Once he entered, he kept quiet. Anyone who knocked on the door asking to come inside to see him would be stopped by his servant. No one was allowed in without his permission, and of course, if he were asked beforehand, while out of the house, he would say no.
No one knew what went on in Malfoy Manor. Until one cold September morning.
Sir George Greengrass knocked on the door, of course expecting the unnamed servant to open it. He heard yelling coming from inside.
"Go get the door!" a familiar voice shouted.
"You already asked me to get the arm! And I'm now a bit preoccupied at the moment, sire."
"Alright, alright."
After a few seconds, the door slowly opened a smidge, and Sir George Greengrass saw the tired eyes of Brutus behind a pair of glasses peeking through the crack. There was a strong stench coming from inside. George took a step back as soon as the offending smell touched his nostrils.
"Brutus?" His nose scrunched up upon saying his dear old friend's name.
George wondered why it was him answering the door as the door opened further.
Brutus took off the stained apron and moved it across the room with his wand. "Sorry about the smell. I'm working on—" he paused. "Never mind. Why'd you come over?"
"I wanted to invite you over to a get-together. Are you busy?"
"Actually… yes… I am." It wasn't typical of Brutus to turn down an invitation, especially if it was somewhere he could talk about himself endlessly.
George frowned. "Brutus? Are you alright?"
Brutus' eyes fell then widened suddenly again, as if falling asleep. "Yes, yes. I'm doing absolutely fine," he said as though trying to sound convincing.
George swiftly pulled out his wand, pointed it at Brutus, and barged through the door. Brutus backed away to a table,grabbing for his own wand.
"Enough is enough, Brutus," he said, keeping his wand pointed at his friend. "No more secrets. I heard you talking about an arm. What was that all about?"
As soon as he said arm, Brutus' servant ran into the room carrying a limp severed arm. "You called for the arm, sire?"
All three of them had horrified looks on their faces, looking at the arm, then at each other.
"Brutus. Wha—"
"Obliviate!" Brutus pointed his wand at George.
George blocked it with a quick Shield Charm.
It was obvious Brutus would do anything to keep his project a secret. Then, a smile struck his face. He lowered his wand.
"I'll explain everything, if you decide to join me," Brutus said cryptically.
George looked at Brutus, puzzled. "Join you in what? I have a feeling this isn't normal, Brutus."
He appeared lost in thought for a moment, nodding to himself. "Leave us," Brutus said finally, waving his hand as the servant scurried off with the arm.
George tried to follow him, but was blocked by Brutus.
"George, listen. We could rid the wizard world of Mudbloods. Just imagine. We can—"
"And how do you suppose you're going to do that?" George asked, still not feeling secure enough to lower his wand. "Without getting caught?"
"The secret to that, my friend, is right behind that door." Brutus pointed in the direction of the door furthest away from them.
"What do you say?"
George eyed the man warily, not sure that he truly wanted to see what his friend was hiding. Finally, curiosity won out. "Alright."
"Good decision, ol' chap." Brutus put his arm around George, patting him on the back.
What's the worst thing that could be behind that door? George thought as he let Brutus lead him across the room.
There were whirring sounds that got louder as they approached the door.
"Welcome… to the lab." Brutus pushed open the door.
A large machine, the likes of which George had never seen, stood in the middle of the cavernous room. Wooden and metal gears turned, at least fifty people working the bizarre contraption.
"I couldn't get everyone wands, so I had to resort to Muggle ways," Brutus explained proudly. "Disgusting, I know, but necessary. It was hard enough to teach these dim-wits to use these machines, let alone a wand."
George turned to his friend, appalled at what he was seeing. "You-you created these people?"
"Undead," Brutus said smugly. "Parts of dead people put together and, well, brought back to life. We're creating more—"
"More? Are you insane? Where are you even getting these bodies?"
"Well—"
"Don't answer that. These creatures, doing your bidding for you?" George exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the scene before them. "They'll become smart. Smarter than you and me. They won't stay dim-wits for long. You can't create more of them. This is enough to make a point, Brutus. Trust me."
Brutus frowned, rolling his eyes. "Fine. But if it doesn't, we'll make more in a few weeks."
"Fine." George stuck his hand out—hardly believing he was agreeing to this mad plan— and Brutus shook it.
"Isn't this great George?" Brutus shouted triumphantly, waving a hand at his horrific invention. "The results are brilliant! And only in a couple of weeks."
"Yeah, I suppose…" George slumped down in his chair. "I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore."
Brutus' smile faded. "George. We had an agreement."
"I know, but—" George was interrupted by Brutus' mumbling.
"I knew this was going to happen."
And with a snap, the servant opened the dungeon doors. One bloodthirsty monster was standing at the bottom of the steps, chained, and growling.
"This is one of the failed ones. He still works, but, well, let's just say he isn't as..." he paused and gave an evil grin. "Polite as the others."
"Brutus, stop please." George's voice quivered as he looked at Brutus, then the monster, then back at Brutus.
"I'll stay. And even if you do let me go, I- I won't say a word. I swear."
"You had your chance, George. And who knows? Maybe you'll be my next experiment." Brutus pushed him into the dungeon and slammed the door. As he walked away, he heard George's screams.
Brutus looked up at his servant. "Do you want to be down there too?"
He shook his head, trying not to shake in fear.
And with that, no one spoke of the incident of Brutus' monster again.