Vladimer Khasia

The Taste of Truth Science Fiction ⋄ Drama FADE IN: EXT. DUSKWOOD - REMOTE TOWN - NIGHT A quiet, fog-laden town, nestled in a valley. Streetlights flicker. The air feels heavy, burdened by secrets. INT. POLICE STATION - CHIEF’S OFFICE - NIGHT CHIEF DANIEL HARRIS (50s, weathered, eyes heavy with grief) sits at a cluttered desk, surrounded by case files labeled "SUICIDE." A photo of AMY (40s, radiant, smiling) sits in a frame, a silent accusation. DANIEL (V.O.) Twenty years. Twenty years of death in Duskwood, and I’m no closer to answers. He pours whiskey, hands trembling. A knock at the door. DEPUTY LUCAS (20s, eager) Chief, we got another one. It’s... it’s Amy Carter. Daniel freezes. The glass slips, shattering on the floor. EXT. AMY’S HOUSE - NIGHT Police lights bathe the scene in red and blue. Amy’s body is covered, her wrists stained with blood. Her HUSBAND, JOHN (50s), sobs, holding their GRANDCHILDREN. Daniel stares, hollowed out, as officers cordon off the area. DANIEL (V.O.) Amy. The one I let slip away. Married, happy, alive... until tonight. FLASHBACK - EXT. DUSKWOOD FAIR - DAY (20 YEARS AGO) Young Daniel (30s) and Amy (20s) laugh, sharing cotton candy. Their eyes lock, a spark of something eternal. She smiles, but a MAN (John) calls her name. She leaves, glancing back at Daniel. DANIEL (V.O.) I never married. Watched her life unfold like a movie I wasn’t in. BACK TO PRESENT - INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT Daniel pores over Amy’s file. A legal document catches his eye: "CONSTITUTIONAL COURT CASE - FRAUDULENT MEDICAL LEGISLATION." DANIEL (to himself) Amy, what were you fighting for? He pulls other suicide files. Patterns emerge: victims spoke out against corruption, cover-ups, or societal wrongs before their deaths. DANIEL (V.O.) They all tried to fix something broken. Then they broke. INT. DANIEL’S APARTMENT - NIGHT Daniel sits at his kitchen table, eating a chicken wrap from "SUNRISE FOODS," the town’s only fast-food joint. He pauses, staring at the wrapper. DANIEL (V.O.) Last week, I ate one of these. Same as Amy. Same as them all. He laughs bitterly, tossing the wrapper. DANIEL Some cop. Chasing ghosts while the town dies. EXT. SUNRISE FOODS - DAY Daniel interviews MANAGER (40s, nervous). DANIEL Everyone who died ate here. What’s in your food? MANAGER Just chicken, Chief. Same as always. Daniel’s eyes narrow. He notices a "SUNRISE FOODS - PILOT PROGRAM" sign. INT. TOWN HALL - DAY Daniel confronts MAYOR ELLIS (60s, slick, a politician’s smile). DANIEL Sunrise Foods. You approved their pilot program. What are they testing? ELLIS Progress, Daniel. Jobs. You’re chasing conspiracies. Daniel slams a file on the desk. DANIEL Amy was suing the government. So were half the others. All ate at Sunrise. Explain that. Ellis’s smile falters. ELLIS Careful, Chief. Some truths aren’t worth digging up. INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT Daniel digs through public records. He finds Sunrise Foods’ parent company, VITALCORP, linked to government contracts and medical legislation. DANIEL (V.O.) VitalCorp. Feeding us, funding politicians, and Amy was onto them. He uncovers a classified memo: "PROJECT SUSTAIN - HUMAN TRIALS, DUSKWOOD." DANIEL Human trials... in my town? EXT. SUNRISE FOODS - BACK ALLEY - NIGHT Daniel sneaks in, finding crates labeled "ADDITIVE X-17." He pockets a sample. INT. LABORATORY (OUTSIDE TOWN) - DAY Daniel meets DR. MARIA (30s, whistleblower vibe), who analyzes the sample. MARIA This isn’t just flavoring. It’s a neurochemical compound. Boosts consumption, but... it rewires impulse control. Makes people hyper-aware. DANIEL And then? MARIA It burns them out. Despair takes over. They... end themselves. Daniel’s face hardens. DANIEL Amy. All of them. Murdered by their own minds. INT. DANIEL’S APARTMENT - NIGHT Daniel sits, staring at Amy’s photo. His hands shake. He feels it—a gnawing urge to fight, to scream, to fix. DANIEL (V.O.) It’s in me now. I feel it. The truth clawing its way out. He grabs a knife, hesitating. His reflection in the blade shows a man broken by failure. DANIEL I failed you, Amy. I failed them all. EXT. DUSKWOOD - BRIDGE - NIGHT Daniel stands at the edge, the river below. He slices his wrists, blood dripping into the water. He collapses. DANIEL (V.O.) Maybe this is justice. For a cop who couldn’t save his town. FADE TO BLACK. INT. VITALCORP HEADQUARTERS - DAY DR. WINSTON (50s, white suit, haunted) holds a newspaper: "DUSKWOOD CHIEF FOUND DEAD - SUICIDE." WINSTON (to GARRY, 40s, corporate) What have we done, Garry? This compound... it’s not just addiction. It wakes their souls, makes them fight, then kills them with despair. GARRY It was supposed to keep them alive longer, consuming more— WINSTON We built hell! They feel the poison, rebel against the world we broke, then die by their own hands. We’re no humans. He crumples the paper, staring out at the city. WINSTON How many more, Garry? How many? FADE OUT. TITLE: THE TASTE OF TRUTH CREDITS ROLL.

The Throne of Doom Horror ⋄ Comedy Setting: A grimy public restroom in a rundown gas station, flickering fluorescent lights buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. The air smells like despair, pine-scented air freshener, and regret. A single stall door creaks open, revealing the scene: a man, mid-40s, lies upside down on the filthy tile floor, his bare ass pointed skyward like a tragic monument. His pants are around his ankles, his face frozen in a grimace of existential defeat. A grotesque, petrified turd is lodged in his backside, glistening under the light like a cursed artifact. A faint trail of what looks like insides snakes out, as if his soul was yanked out through his colon. The sound of a dripping faucet echoes. Enter JERRY, a weary gas station clerk, chewing on a toothpick, holding a mop like it’s his only friend. He stops dead in his tracks, staring at the scene. JERRY (muttering): Oh, for fuck’s sake, not again. (louder, to the corpse) Yo, buddy, this ain’t the place for performance art! Get up, you’re scaring the roaches. He nudges the guy’s leg with the mop. No response. Jerry leans closer, squinting at the ass-up catastrophe. JERRY: Jesus H. Christ on a cracker, what is that? (gags, waves hand in front of face) Smells like Satan’s protein shake. And that… (points at the lodged turd) That’s no ordinary shit. That’s the kind of shit that signs a lease and demands a deposit. He pulls out his phone, dials his manager, pacing around the body like it’s a crime scene. JERRY (into phone): Yo, Marlene, we got a situation in the men’s room. Dude’s dead, ass-up, lookin’ like he tried to launch his soul into orbit through his butthole. No, I ain’t touchin’ him! Last time I cleaned up a mess like this, I found a tooth in the urinal. A tooth, Marlene! He hangs up, stares at the corpse, shaking his head. JERRY (to the body): What the hell happened, man? You eat a burrito from the hot case? Push too hard tryin’ to birth the mother of all logs? (pauses, philosophical) Bet it was constipation. Seen it before—guy strains so hard his heart goes “fuck this, I’m out.” Or maybe you just pissed off the toilet gods. Shoulda flushed twice, pal. A CUSTOMER, a nervous 20-something in flip-flops, pokes his head in, sees the scene, and freezes. CUSTOMER: Oh my God, is he…? JERRY (deadpan): Dead? Yeah. Also, congrats, you’re the first to witness the Ass-tastrophe of ’25. Wanna take a selfie with it? CUSTOMER (backing away): I… I just needed to pee… JERRY (shrugging): Pee outside, kid. This stall’s booked for eternity. (mutters) Gonna need a priest, a plunger, and a hazmat suit for this one. Jerry grabs his mop, gives the corpse one last look, and sighs. JERRY: Rest in peace, Captain Clog. You went out with a bang… or at least a blockage. Lights dim as the faucet drips louder, almost like it’s laughing.