Inspired By & Based Off Of: A short film made for a horror film television contest back in October 2003

(The Twilight Zone theme begins playing.)

Serling: This is a door. The key is one of imagination. One of sound, one of sight, one of mind, and one of that we do not understand. It is the unknown that leads us here and it is that which keeps us in this mysterious dimension sealed only by this door. Readers, you have just opened this door and, by doing such, have returned to… the Twilight Zone.

(The Twilight Zone theme ends.)

(The scene is of a man painting a garden scene of which the focus is a large ballerina-like bush. He smiles and works for a minute or two before noticing a woman standing nearby. He looks around his easel as she looks at him, then turns and walks away. The man sighs and returns to his painting.)

'This is Oscar Frantz, an artist who's existence ranks slightly higher than obscurity. And the woman he just saw is the center of all of his romantic fantasies. Unfortunately, her name is something he doesn't know.'

(The camera turns to an entrance of a garden maze as Serling walks out of it.)

'He longs for her attention and, in a moment, he'll get it. But Mr. Frantz should study upon the saying 'More than meets the eyes', mainly because Mr. Frantz has just entered... the Twilight Zone.'

Chapter Three
The Girl Next Door

(Oscar hits his alarm to stop the ringing, then gets up and showers. Afterwards, he goes downstairs and begins preparing breakfast. As he does, he notices the woman standing by the entrance to the garden maze. He smiles and waves, but she simply goes into the maze. He frowns, then returns to his breakfast.

Afterwards, he washes up, gets dressed, grabs his supplies, then goes outside onto his porch and looks out into the maze. Not seeing the woman, he sighs, then sets up his easel. He gets a blank canvas ready, then pours some paint onto his palette. He goes to start, but then pauses. He leans slightly to the left and sees the girl climbing onto one of the bushes. She looks at him, then looks around. Carefully, she climbs back down onto the other side of the wall.

Nodding, he begins painting a portrait of the woman. He'd seen her so many times before that her figure was burned into his mind. Pale skin. Captivating blue eyes. A long flowing white robe. With a large smile, he continues to draw each stroke with the utmost care, making certain to paint each stroke as if he were drawing her into existence...)

"All we need now is name..."

(He begins painting her facial features on, his smile growing with each stroke...)

"So mysterious... but of such beauty..."

(Her nose. Her lips. Her eyes. Her ears. Her eyelashes. Each stroke painted with the perfect shade and each stroke painted with the gentleness of a mother holding a newborn...)

"But why all the mystery... If you are so interested in me, then why not just approach me..."

(Her long pale arms. Each finger appearing one by one as Oscar's smile continued to stretch the sides of his face...)

"Perhaps you are mute... Or worse... Perhaps you are light in the head... Such diseases are saddening and shouldn't be taken lightly..."

(Onto the robe itself, drawn into existence, being blown by an unexistent breeze...)

"Or maybe you're just afraid... I myself am afraid, but not of acceptance, but of being forced to approach you first..."

(Each crease, each curve, each wrinkle painted into perfect format...)

"I wouldn't admit it openly, but I am quite the shy one... I may be just the man you're looking for, but I'd dare not approach a lady whose name I do not know in advance..."

(Onto her long, thin, pale legs... Much like her fingers, her toes were drawn with careful strokes...)

"Whatever the reason, I intend to find out!"

(Oscar stands and looks at his work. A perfect portrait if he did say so himself. An almos eerie resemblance made it seem as it she'd shrunk and now stared blankly at him from the canvas.)

"There's only one house nearby aside from mine. His name escapes me, but it is a rich man who retired some many years ago. That is were I shall find you, no?"

(Beaming, Oscar carefully took the painting inside, followed by his materials. Then, he got his coat and put it on as it was begining to get a little chilly. He walked outside and looked his door. Turning, he saw the woman standing on the maze again, but in a different spot.)

"Do ya need some help? I'm been through this maze more than enough times to get through it blindfolded." The woman simply looked down and carefully jumped back into the maze. "Odd..." Normally, he'd off entered the maze, but it was large and Oscar didn't want to impose. He supposed that letting her find her own way out was what she wanted, so he walked a mile and a half to the nearest house.

He knocked on the door several times before a stout little man opened it. "May I help you?" Oscar smiled. "Hello. My name is Oscar Frantz. I live in the old Bergus estate." The man started. "Ah, Frantz. I have heard about you. It is said your work is too be amongst the most realistic any have ever seen. Please, do come in." Oscar reluctantly entered, then backed up, allowing the door to be closed.

"I don't mean to impose or trespass, but our daughter is... How shall I say..." Oscar noticed that the man raised an eyebrow. "I hate to ddisappoint you, sir, but if you're looking for a father, than you've come to the wrong place. I have I any children." Oscar started. "Then, the woman in the white gown is your wife..." The man titled his head. "Sir, I have never been married before in my life. I've lived here alone for the past thirty-two years..."

Oscar sat in a chair while the man, introducing himself as Dr. Harrison Vean, brought him some tea. "Thank you. Still, I don't understand. The nearest house past this is some twenty miles away..." Vean snorted.

"Ha! I'd saw a good twenty-four if anything." Oscar shook his head. "I don't understand. I've been seeing a woman in white for nearly a year now and yet, she's not from either mine nor your own establishments..."

Vean smiled. "I do not know of any woman in white, but if it would make you feel better, I wouldn't mind stopping by an admiring some of you work." Oscar thank the man for the compliment, but quickly turned back to his original thoughts. "Are you sure you don't get any visitors."

Vean chuckled. "A man who lives alone would go insane after four months. Yet, here I am, sanity and all. The only visitors I get, though, are through that." Vean pointed to an old vintage telephone. "My, my. I could tell this house was old, but..." Vean laughed. "Nonsense. If it were that old, the termites would've made a banquet out of it. I am simply a collector of antiques. I enjoyed the olden days, so I collect as much stuff as I can from that period. Why, I even have a vintage automobile from when cars were just another new idea. Would you like to see it?"

Oscar shook his head. "No, I think I'd better be heading back before this rain starts." Vean peered out the window and nodded. "Understandable. Some other time then." Vean saw Oscar to the door, but held it open. "One more thing, Mr. Frantz. You accent tickles me, but I can't for the love of me place it." Oscar started, then smirked. "It's Scottish, sir." Vean started. "Scottish. My, I was off... Oh well... Have a safe trip home."

Oscar nodded, then ran back as fast as he could. Once inside, he caught his breath and went up stairs to shower, but noticed the woman standing at the edge of the maze. He quickly ran outside and looked at her just as she motioned for him to follow her as she entered the maze. Hurrying, he ran to the entrance, but didn't see her. He cautiously walked down the only available path and looked around.

He saw he walk slowly down a path and he quickly followed her. And so it went on like this, him barely keeping up with her as a storm appeared in the clouds. Finally, Oscar broke out of the maze and saw the woman in the robe walked towards a ravine. "Be careful!" Oscar sprinted forward, then stopped.

She'd simply vanished from the area. He looked around, then looked down. He was standing at the top of a large ravine. He came here sometimes to be in a more airy atmosphere. Frowning, he turned around as the woman let forth a loud scream. Startled, Oscar cried out and went to step back, but lost his footing and fell several stories to the ground below. The woman watched his body for a few minutes, then turned and vanished into thin air.

'As the Italian word for ghost, a banshee is a being who's unearthly cry is an omen for looming death. This is a fact that Mr. Oscar Frantz learned a little too late. Now, he lays there, dead and motionless at the bottom of a ravine... in the Twilight Zone...'