The First Scene

To win War 250, I shall now present to you the first scene from my Script Frenzy scripy, 'The Gates of Tomorrow'!

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EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

Abandoned cars litter the streets. A wild wind passes down the street, picking up litter and whipping it into a whirlwind. Drivers and passers-by alike run from an unseen danger at the end of the street, some of them screaming as they go. Others stand perfectly still, either petrified by fear or amazement at what they are seeing. One or two have their phones out and are taking pictures and filming whatever is going on.

EXT. RIVERFRONT - DAY
At the end of the street is the riverfront. Here, the situation is even more chaotic. People spread out like ripples from an unseen point. Yet more cars stand abandoned in the street. An old woman tries to run, but is knocked over by another scared person, and she falls to the ground. A parent gathers her children and attempts to flee the scene, terror in her eyes.

EXT. BRIDGE - DAY
The danger is revealed: In the centre of Tower Bridge, a cascade of energy fluctuates, there but not quite there, randomly earthing crackling blue electricity wherever possible. The overcast sky flashes as arcs of blue pass through the clouds.

The field brightens in intensity for a split second, and then explodes, sending a wave of blue energy across the area.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM
A man opens his eyes, banishing the scene from thought. He rubs his temples and rests his head in the space between his thumb and forefinger. The man is SIMON ASHER (43), a serious, well-built man with a face of stone and a thin beard gracing his jaw.

Across from him sits a woman. She leans forwards on her elbows.

INTERROGATOR

(to Asher)

So tell me, Asher... What happened out there?

ASHER

(in deep, gravelly tones)

You know fine well what happened.

INTERROGATOR

Yes, but I want to hear it from you. Tell me, Simon... What happened at Tower Bridge?

Asher looks at the woman as if gauging whether she is poking fun at him or not. Apparently having decided upon the latter, he raises his head, leans back in the plastic chair, and opens his mouth to speak.

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And there you have it! War 250 is mine!