Malibu Horror Story Page

Chase lights a road flare. The red light throws their shadows against the wall. Except… Lucas counts four shadows. There are three of them.

The shadow detaches from the wall.

A final line of text:

LUCAS (O.S.) (Whisper) Hold still.

They hold still. The fourth shadow does not.

Their families did not request their names be withheld. The State of California did.

The GoPro’s night vision clicks on. Green. Monochromatic hell. Malibu Horror Story

It moves like a stop-motion puppet. Jerky. Wrong. It has too many joints. It slides across the cave floor, up the opposite wall, and presses out . Not a shadow anymore. A thing. Tall. Lean. Its face is a stretched Kenneth Anger fever dream: a silent film actress caught in a projector fire, melting and smiling.

A film by Anonymous

CHASE (22, film-school dropout with a trust fund) grips the wheel, knuckles white. He’s not scared—he’s vibrating with the kind of reckless energy only three Adderalls and a pending lawsuit from his father can provide. Chase lights a road flare

“You came to my house. You brought the eye. Now the eye belongs to me.”

MALIBU HORROR STORY