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SECTASAURUS V1.0
CLEANER OCEAN FOUNDATION LTD.
Copyright © 5th June - 28th August 2025 All rights reserved.
(Read
the V1 1st draft 64 page script adaptation)
ONCE
UPON A TIME in the inhospitable wastes of Antarctica, amid climate warming that is melting the polar caps; raising sea levels. JOHN STORM is a sporty amateur
anthropologist
and ocean conservationist, an obsessive collector of DNA samples of all life on Earth; since a teenager.
Now in his 40s, the rugged explorer has become famous for rescuing an injured Humpback whale and protesting about ocean pollution. Once scaling the
Shard
in London to unfurl a giant banner. He inherited a solar and hydrogen powered trimaran named Elizabeth Swann, from his deceased uncle; Professor Storm. The
ship came complete with onboard AI, named HAL, and the ARK, the world's largest digital database. The vessel is his pride and joy. His crew includes Dan Hawk (20s) an electronics genius, and Charley Temple (30s), a sporty investigative reporter. In a previous adventure, John became physically enhanced, now able to communicate with HAL via a BioCore brain implant, using a CyberCore Genetica super nano computer, the world's most powerful. Making HAL; a virtual crewmate. John and crew, collaborate with Jill Bird (50s) a news anchor for the BBC world service in London; Charley’s friend.
OPENING SCENE
1 - THE ICE GAVE UP ITS DEAD
EXT. ANTARCTIC OCEAN - DAWN (PRESENT DAY)
A vast, desolate expanse of ANTARCTIC ICE. It stretches to the horizon, ancient and seemingly eternal. But it's changing.
GIANT FRACTURES spiderweb across the surface, some shimmering with newly melted water, others exposing deep, blue chasms. The sound is immense
- the GROANING of an ancient world fracturing, the BOOM of distant icebergs calving.
We see the aftermath of human intervention: small, advanced ICEBREAKERS, looking like alien insects, have chewed paths through previously impassable floes. DISTANT INDUSTRIAL SOUNDS
- the hum of generators, the scrape of heavy machinery - hint at massive operations.
The USS ARKTOS - a majestic, ghostly WOODEN FRIGATE - slowly emerges from the melting ice. Half-encased, she lists sharply, her hull bleached almost white, timber groaning under the shift. She's a relic, impossible and eerily intact, from another age.
Above her, the Arctic light is pale, indifferent.
INT. MOBILE COMMAND UNIT - DAY (PRESENT DAY)
MONITORS glow with data: thermal maps of accelerating melt, geological surveys of the seafloor, financial projections. This isn't just about discovery; it's about something far more deliberate. Oil. Coal. Economic growth. Political ambition.
A hand points to a sonar reading on one screen. It's the Arktos, perfectly delineated against the ice.
CLOSE ON SCREEN - Text reads: "USS Arktos. Lost: 1838. Discovered: Present."
The ice gave up its dead. And the Arktos is freed.
EXT. ARKTOS - DAY
A military HELICOPTER, dark and silent, hovers over the Arktos. It slowly descends, kicking up a plume of snow.
SPECIAL FORCES operatives, in muted, tactical gear, rappel down lines. They move with precise, economic efficiency. No scientists. No historians. Just soldiers. Black operations. Their faces obscured by visors.
They hit the deck, securing their lines. The wooden deck is slick with melting ice, pitted and bleached by centuries.
INT. ARKTOS - DECK LEVEL - CONTINUOUS
The lead OPERATIVE, CALLSIGN "GHOST," signals his team. Four others: SPECTER, ECHO, SHADOW, and BANSHEE.
They fan out, weapons raised, methodically sweeping the ghostly remains of the ship. The air is frigid, damp. The sounds are just their muffled movements, the drip of melting ice, and the distant, low CREAKS of the ancient hull.
GHOST stops. His helmet light cuts through the gloom, illuminating something on the wooden deck.
CLOSE ON - A dark, dried STAIN. Not fresh. Old. Embedded deep in the wood grain.
BLOOD.
SPECTER kneels, gloved hand touching it. Not enough for slaughter. Just... struggle.
They continue deeper into the ship.
INT. ARKTOS - PASSAGEWAY - CONTINUOUS
The interior is a labyrinth of dark, narrow passages. Frost-rimmed bulkheads. Rotting canvas. The occasional gleam of tarnished brass.
A low, guttural SCRAPE sounds from ahead. The team freezes. Weapon sights snap up.
GHOST (muffled, through comms)
Hold.
They advance, lights sweeping.
They find a hatch. Heavy, reinforced. SEALED FROM THE INSIDE.
And around the edges of the hatch, on the aged wood, are SCRATCHES. Deep gouges.
CLOSE ON - The scratches are irregular. Some match human fingers. But others
... are wider. Sharper. As if something had been trying to claw its way out. Or in.
SHADOW (muffled)
Unnatural.
ECHO
(Whispers, almost to himself)
1838.
INT. ARKTOS - LOWER DECKS - CONTINUOUS
Deeper. Colder. The air grows heavier. The ship's internal groans seem to swell around them.
The team moves into what appears to be a cargo hold. It's vast, dark, and filled with the shapes of old crates.
BANSHEE, carrying a portable sensor unit, stops. His helmet light illuminates the device.
CLOSE ON SENSOR SCREEN
The display is a chaotic mess of interference at first. Then, a distinct, large BLIP appears. Below them. Beneath the hull.
It's moving. Slowly. Rhythmical.
The blip pulsates, growing slightly larger, then smaller.
BANSHEE (muffled)
Contact. Below deck. Bearing 2-0-0.
GHOST
(Muffled, his voice low, tense)
Nature of contact?
The blip on the screen grows, solidifying. A clear, large shape, shifting beneath the ship.
BANSHEE
(A beat of silence, then a low, strained whisper)
Thermal signature. Alive.
The hum of the ship. The drip of melting ice. The distant groan of the continent. And now, the low, steady, PULSATING HUM from beneath the Arktos.
They found it.
And something found them first.
SCENE
2 TUNNEL COMPLEX - THE LABYRINTH BENEATH THE ICE
EXT. ANTARCTIC ICE SHEET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)
The endless white expanse. A landscape defined by the SCREAM of wind, the distant GROAN of shifting glaciers. The sheer, immense WEIGHT of a continent slowly collapsing.
But now, a new sound. A low, resonant HUMMING, barely perceptible beneath the natural cacophony.
AERIAL SHOT
A section of the ice sheet. Not a fracture from the previous scene, but a deliberate, almost geometric rupture. It looks like a colossal, invisible hand has pulled back a veil.
CLOSE ON - The exposed ice beneath. It's not clear. It's CARVED.
INT. TUNNEL COMPLEX - ANCIENT - DAY (FLASHBACK/HYPOTHETICAL)
QUICK CUTS – HYPOTHETICAL/VISUALIZE:
- Shadowed, impossible architecture carved into ice.
- Vast, dark spaces.
- The hint of something moving, or having moved, within.
This is the LABYRINTH. Ancient. Impossibly old. Preserved in secrecy for millions of years. Now, revealed by the relentless thaw. An architectural impossibility hidden from mankind until now.
EXT. RESEARCH OUTPOST - ICE SHEET - DAY (PRESENT DAY)
A small, isolated research outpost. A single tracked vehicle sits abandoned, half-covered in snow. A single tent flap flutters in the wind.
The only sounds are the wind and the FLAPPING of the tent. No human voices. No equipment hum. No distress signal. No trace.
A scientist vanished. Disappeared. Without warning. Without a sound.
Only a single piece of information remained. A leak.
INT. SKY NEWS BROADCAST ROOM - LONDON - NIGHT
MONITORS glow with breaking news alerts. The controlled chaos of a global newsroom. The low murmur of urgent conversations.
A young RESEARCHER, late 20s, hunched over a tablet. Headset on. Her eyes are wide, fixed on a cryptic message, fragments of data scrolling quickly across the screen. A rushed transmission.
SOUND DESIGN: A distorted, broken audio clip plays in her ear, then cuts out. A guttural ROAR, alien, ancient, mixed with crackling static.
On the screen, a crude outline. Something prehistoric. Entombed in ice. Massively huge. Utterly alien to modern classification. Her fingers fly across the keyboard, typing a quick summary.
CLOSE ON SCREEN - Text: "Prehistoric Antarctic Discovery. Estimated scale: KING KONG."
The discovery is too big to contain.
INT. BBC NEWS WORLD SERVICE - BROADCAST STUDIO - CONTINUOUS
The familiar, cool blue glow of a news desk. A BBC NEWS WORLD SERVICE BUG blazes on a monitor.
JILL BIRD, veteran anchor, straightens her jacket. A technician gives a silent countdown.
JILL BIRD (V.O., crisp, authoritative)
And a late item—researchers in Antarctica say they have discovered a subsurface tunnel complex beneath the compacted snow and ice. We'll bring you more on this breaking story as it comes in.
The news cuts to a graphic of a stylized ice sheet with a tunnel network diagram.
INT. CHARLEY TEMPLE'S APARTMENT - LONDON - NIGHT
A spartan, functional space. Low light. The only illumination is the glow from a high-end tablet.
CHARLEY TEMPLE (30s, sharp, intense eyes, no-nonsense) leans over the tablet. The BBC News World Service live feed plays in a small window. Her fingers are poised over the screen.
CLOSE ON TABLET - The news graphic. And beneath it, a secure messaging app. An unread message from an anonymous source.
SCREEN TEXT:
"The tunnels. They found them. And the jaw. It's out."
Charley's eyes narrow. The pieces click. The vanished scientist. The leaked findings. The tunnels. This isn't coincidence.
She taps out a rapid, encrypted message.
CLOSE ON MESSAGE SCREEN:
TO: STORM
SUBJECT: ANTARCTICA - URGENT
MESSAGE: It's happening. The tunnels. And something else – something huge. We need to move.
Her finger hovers, then with a decisive tap, sends it.
John Storm is halfway across the globe. But Charley knows. She knows with absolute certainty that he'll drop everything the moment he reads this.
EXT. ANTARCTIC ICE SHEET - NIGHT
A low-angle shot. The immense, dark, and silent mass of the continent. The occasional CREAK or CRACK from beneath.
The world had long convinced itself that Antarctica was untouchable. A neutral zone. A wilderness protected by treaties. A fragile lie.
But nothing lasts forever. The treaty was ending. Negotiations stalled. And beneath the surface, a silent war was brewing. Nations staking claims. Corporations laying groundwork. Secret operations unfolding beneath the ice.
The tunnels had surfaced at exactly the wrong time. Or perhaps, the right time for those seeking opportunity.
This was no longer just a scientific discovery. It was a gold rush.
And someone - somewhere - was about to make a move.
John Storm just had to beat them to it.
SCENE
3 GOLD RUSH
EXT. ANTARCTIC ICE SHEET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)
The vast, indifferent white. The HOWL of the katabatic winds. The CRACK and GROAN of a continent in flux.
We see the subtle, undeniable signs of retreat. Dark fissures in the ice, growing wider. Meltwater carving temporary rivers.
MONTAGE - THE NEW GOLD RUSH
1. SWEDISH EXPEDITION
EXT. SWEDISH BASE - DAY A compact, rugged base, designed for extreme cold. High-tech, but with a utilitarian, almost Viking-esque aesthetic.
BJORN ATLAS (40s, bearded, powerful build, eyes glinting with a fierce determination), dressed in heavy-duty polar gear, barks orders to a team loading supplies onto a tracked vehicle. He moves with an almost reckless energy.
SVEN JOHANSSON (40s, thinner, intense gaze, clearly a thinker, not a brawler) is hunched over a complex GPS array, shivering despite his thick parka. He mutters, mostly to himself.
SVEN
(Muffled)
You realize this place is going to kill us before we get a damn thing out of it.
Bjorn just grins, teeth gleaming beneath his frost-crusted brows. He pulls on thick gloves.
BJORN
That's what makes it a prize worth taking.
He claps Sven on the shoulder, a brutal, bone-jarring clap. Sven just winces.
2. MULTINATIONAL EXPEDITION
EXT. MULTINATIONAL BASE - DAY A larger, more established base. Flags from Canada and the US ripple in the wind. A sense of disciplined professionalism.
CATHY CARTER (40s, sharp, commanding, with the quiet authority of someone who's seen too much) stands with three VETERAN ARCTIC EXPLORERS. Their faces are etched with scars from places where the cold doesn't just cut, but guts. Cathy pulls her thermal hood tight, studying the shifting ice sheets through high-powered binoculars. Her brow furrows.
CATHY
There's movement.
One of her men, grizzled, mid-50s, chuckles, breath pluming.
VETERAN 1
Ice moves, Captain.
Cathy lowers the binoculars, her gaze distant, sensing something fundamentally wrong.
CATHY
(Murmuring, half to herself)
No. Not like that.
3. CHINESE EXPEDITION
EXT. CHINESE BASE - DAY A gleaming, state-of-the-art facility. Sleek, cutting-edge vehicles. A stark contrast to the slightly worn American stations seen in previous scenes. The image of power in transition.
LIN PO CHANG (20s, impossibly young, elegant, dressed in tailored arctic gear, a quiet intensity in his eyes) examines the jagged entrance of a newly exposed tunnel network in the ice. He traces a finger along the ancient, weathered rock face. Two SILENT HENCHMEN, built like brick walls, stand impassively behind him.
Lin exhales. His breath curls into the frigid air, a perfect white plume.
LIN PO CHANG
They were here.
One of the HENCHMEN, his voice a low rumble, asks.
HENCHMAN 1
Who?
Lin's smile is sharp as broken ice. Cold, predatory. He looks into the dark maw of the tunnel.
LIN PO CHANG
Not who. What.
A subtle, deep HUMMING emanates from the exposed tunnel entrance. Just on the edge of hearing.
THE RACE
WIDE SHOT - ANTARCTICA
Three distinct trails of vehicles stretch across the vast, ice-covered landscape. Converging. A silent, desperate race for something buried beneath. The sheer scale of the continent dwarfs them all.
INT. MOBILE COMMAND UNIT - MULTINATIONAL EXPEDITION - DAY
Cathy studies a detailed holographic map of the tunnel complex discovered in the previous scene. New sensor data overlays it, showing deeper, more intricate sections.
VETERAN 2
Reports are coming in. Geological. Seismic. This isn't natural.
CATHY
(Quietly)
No. It’s too... deliberate.
EXT. ANTARCTIC ICE - VARIOUS - DAY
The landscape changes again. Not just from melting glaciers. But from human activity. Massive drills pierce the ice. Temporary landing strips appear. The continent is no longer just a neutral zone. It's a battleground.
The visual contrast is stark: the vast, rusting skeletal structure of a long-abandoned American research outpost looms in the background of one shot, while in the foreground, a sleek, new Chinese icebreaker, larger than anything else on the horizon, carves through the ice.
This isn't about treaties anymore. This is a gold rush.
INT. CHINESE BASE - LIN PO CHANG'S PRIVATE QUARTERS - NIGHT
The room is minimalist, functional. A single monitor displays complex biological schematics alongside ancient paleontological diagrams of arthropod evolution. Lin Po Chang sits before it, eyes alight with an almost fanatical intelligence.
He traces a diagram of a prehistoric insectoid jawbone – the same one from the leaked data. He was a paleontologist. He knew. He had theorized. He knew what lay beneath the frost long before the world cared enough to look.
He wasn't just after minerals. He was after something living. Something far older than humanity.
EXT. TUNNEL COMPLEX ENTRANCE - NIGHT
The entrances to the newly revealed tunnel complex are now bustling with activity. Lights cut through the perpetual twilight. Teams in arctic gear move in and out, setting up equipment.
Bjorn Atlas's team is focused on securing the 'archaeological prize' ..... whatever immediately recognizable artifact or mineral deposit is visible.
Cathy Carter's team is methodical, cautious, establishing a secure perimeter. Her eyes constantly scan the distant horizon, looking for threats not on a map.
Lin Po Chang stands at the mouth of the largest tunnel entrance, his two henchmen silent shadows behind him. He looks down into the dark abyss.
The ice was retreating, exposing secrets buried for millennia. Three expeditions raced against
time - and each other - to stake their claim before nature swallowed her treasures again.
The shifting of alliances. The shifting of ice. Both inevitable. Both deadly.
The HUMMING from within the tunnel grows almost imperceptibly. A low, resonant thrum.
And this time, Antarctica wasn’t just giving up her ghosts. She was releasing something that had never learned how to die.
SCENE
4 - UN CALLS FOR JOHN STORM
INT.
MI6 BRIEFING ROOM – NIGHT
Dim lighting. Frosted glass. A digital map of Antarctica
glows on the wall. GENERAL SIR RODNEY DUNBAR (60s, military precision
wrapped in silk) leans forward.
DUNBAR
The PM has authorised me to offer you a commission in His Majesty’s
Royal Navy.
JOHN STORM (40s, rugged, cerebral, haunted) sits across the table, arms
folded. A man who’s seen too much ocean—and too many lies.
STORM
I admire Edward Thomas. Gets my vote. But General—or is it Sir
Rodney—I fail to see why I’d be interested in a vacation to
Antarctica. It’s right out of my comfort zone.
DUNBAR (smiling)
Am I right in thinking your ship isn’t up to the task?
STORM (coolly)
I won’t rise to that bait. I’m saying: pulling my crew from active
ocean duties needs compensation. Tangible. Equitable.
Dunbar slides a dossier across the table. Inside: satellite images,
expedition manifests, and a list of unclassified species.
DUNBAR
Apart from a generous consultancy... there are rights to species not yet
catalogued. You have the most comprehensive DNA archive on Earth.
Wouldn’t you want to add to it?
Storm’s jaw tightens. His Achilles heel. The code of life. His
obsession.
STORM
Cover our costs—with interest. A contribution to a cause of my choosing.
And full rights to any new DNA we collect.
DUNBAR
Done. You’ll be Master & Commander. Ambassadorial status. Your
ship—HMS Elizabeth Swann—will be hired and insured by the Navy.
Species rights, yours. Shall I advise the PM?
STORM
In writing. Legal contract. Then I’m your man.
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN – PREPARATION BAY – DAY
Solar panels gleam. Hydrogen tanks hiss. DAN HAWK (20s, tech savant) and
CHARLEY TEMPLE (30s, biologist with bite) load arctic gear.
Storm watches from the bridge, stroking his cat. HAL, the ship’s AI,
hums quietly.
STORM (to Hal)
Plot course: Weddell Sea. Then Deception Island.
HAL (V.O.)
Coordinates locked. Caution: volcanic terrain unstable.
STORM
So’s the world.
EXT. SOUTHERN OCEAN – NIGHT
The Elizabeth Swann cuts through black water. Wind lashes. Icebergs loom.
Inside, Storm reviews encrypted files from MI6. Expedition teams from
China, Sweden, and the U.S.—all converging. All armed.
CHARLEY
Why us?
STORM
Because we’re not them.
INT. UN COMMAND CHANNEL – SPLIT SCREEN
A UN OFFICIAL speaks to Storm via secure link.
UN OFFICIAL
Commander Storm, trust no one. Not the Swedes. Not the Americans.
Especially not the Chinese.
Storm nods, eyes narrowing.
STORM
Understood.
EXT. DECEPTION ISLAND – NIGHT
The volcano sleeps. For now.
Storm stands at the bow, wind tearing at his coat. Behind him, Dan and
Charley prep drones and dive gear.
STORM (V.O.)
They want a consultant. They got a storm.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
5 - MURDER
ON THE ICE
EXT.
ANTARCTIC
ICE SHELF - DAY
A desolate landscape of white and blue. A blizzard rages, obscuring the
horizon. Only the howling wind and the crunch of snow underfoot can be
heard.
INT. ICE TUNNEL - CONTINUOUS
Inside, the silence is oppressive. The air is cold, but bearable. The
space is claustrophobic, a tight, twisting maze of raw ice walls. The only
light comes from the headlamps of the team. We see the backs of two
figures, their breath pluming. They are JOHN
STORM's CREW.
Suddenly, a team member slips, dropping his axe. The sound echoes,
impossibly loud. The team freezes. The silence returns, heavier than
before.
A low, guttural rumble. It could be the ice shifting. It could be
something else. No one moves.
The lights hit a small, dark crevice. In it, a cluster of bizarre, ovular
forms. They are too large to be a normal clutch of eggs. They are not
smooth or hard like a normal dinosaur
egg. Their surfaces are textured, tough, and leathery. Alien.
They almost seem to pulse.
SVETLANA
(Whispering)
What are they?
DAN
HAWK (Awe)
Holy... fuel
cells.
The teams converge. Carters crew, Storm's crew, the Swedes and the
Chinese. The discovery, for a moment, transcends the bitter rivalry. They
stare, transfixed. A single, unified breath hangs in the air.
The moment shatters.
CARTER
We found them. The survey was ours. We claim the site.
CHANG (CALM, menacing)
The Chinese
team was on this line for a week. The prestige is ours.
The quiet murmurs build into sharp arguments. The discovery has become a
prize, not a wonder.
A few hours later, a muffled scream.
EXT. ICE SHELF - DAY
The storm is gone. A low, grey light illuminates the stark white.
We find BJORN
ATLAS, his body half-buried in a snowdrift. His neck is at a horrific
angle. No tracks. No sign of a struggle. Just an unnerving stillness.
The remaining teams stare at each other. The rivalry turns into something
else entirely. The squabbling ceases, replaced by a cold, shared terror.
There is a killer among them.
INT. MAINTENANCE BAY - NIGHT
A cramped room, the air filled with the hum of electronics. CATHY CARTER
and SVEN JOHANSEN are huddled together. The remaining team members are
gone. Chang has been busy.
CARTER
This reminds me of Ice
Station Zebra.
SVEN JOHANSEN lets out a sharp, nervous laugh.
JOHANSEN
Alistair
MacLean?
CARTER (Shakes her head, a grim smile)
No. Worse. More like Bear
Island.
JOHANSEN (Soberly)
Yes. Much more, Cathy. MacLean, again.
A dark shadow detaches itself from the far wall. It is CHANG.
He is fast, silent. He moves with the lethal precision of a hunter.
He wraps a vice-like armlock around Carter's neck. He holds her in place
as a glint of steel flashes in his hand.
JOHANSEN
doesn't hesitate. He lunges, a desperate, final tackle. He slams into
Chang, shoving them both away from a wounded Carter.
Chang's blade flashes, but Johansen's sacrifice has given her a chance.
Carter scrambles, pushing herself on her hands and knees out of the bay, a
trail of blood behind her. She stumbles toward the comms room, every
movement agony. She grabs the comms mic.
CARTER (Wounded, gasping)
...This is Carter... We've lost them... He got Johansen. He killed them
all. Chang... he's gone rogue.
She collapses, the mic slipping from her hand.
INT. MAINTENANCE BAY - CONTINUOUS
Chang, his face emotionless, disposes of Johansen with a quick, brutal
martial arts move. There are no witnesses. Only the echoes of the
struggle.
Chang, alone now, looks around the bay. A cold, predatory stillness. The
stage is set. He has a clean sweep. The "find" is his. All of
it.
SCENE
6 - BOUND
FOR ENGLAND
EXT.
ANTARCTIC ICE SHELF – NIGHT
A blizzard howls. LIN PO CHANG (50s, calculating, composed) stands over a
smouldering camp. The last rival expedition lies buried beneath snow and
sabotage. Chang cradles a translucent egg, pulsing faintly.
INT. MAKESHIFT LAB – NIGHT
Chang adjusts temperature dials. Monitors flicker. The egg begins to
crack.
INSERT: MONITOR SCREEN A timestamp. A heartbeat. Something ancient stirs.
EXT. KOOLARCTIC – ICE PATROL VESSEL – DAY
The ageing ship creaks through polar waters. A crate marked “ROCK
SAMPLES” is lowered into the hold.
INT. CARGO HOLD – NIGHT
Inside the crate, shredded insulation. A glistening tunnel burrows into
the hull. Something has hatched.
INT. KOOLARCTIC – GALLEY – NIGHT
Two CREW MEMBERS (early 30s, rugged) inspect spilled food waste.
CREW MEMBER #1
What the hell made this mess?
A low chittering sound. They turn. A shadow darts past.
CREW MEMBER #2
Jesus—did you see that?
They follow. One grabs a wrench. The other, a flare.
INT. STORAGE BAY – MOMENTS LATER
They corner the creature. A grotesque insectoid, six feet long, glistening
carapace, mandibles twitching.
CREW MEMBER #1
Alien.
Has to be.
He swings. The creature deflects, slashing him across the chest. Blood
sprays. He collapses.
CREW MEMBER #2
No! You bastard!
He grabs a fire axe. Charges. The Sectasaur sidesteps—lightning fast. A
swipe sends him crashing into iron railings. Skull crushed.
INT. KOOLARCTIC – BRIDGE – NIGHT
CAPTAIN HARRISON (60s, weathered) watches grainy footage. Rewinds. Plays
again. The crew gathers, silent.
CAPTAIN HARRISON
We’re not alone.
INT. KOOLARCTIC – DARK CORRIDOR – NIGHT
SECOND MATE (40s, trembling) is shoved aside by something unseen. He
stumbles, breath ragged.
INT. RADIO ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
He sends a distress call. The US COASTGUARD responds. The footage reaches
the BRITISH ADMIRALTY.
INT. ADMIRALTY WAR ROOM – NIGHT
ADMIRAL
LAWRENCE FRANCIS PERCIVAL (70s, commanding) watches the footage.
PERCIVAL
This is the First Sealord. KoolArctic, you are ordered to scuttle your
ship. Confirm command.
CAPTAIN HARRISON (V.O.)
Command confirmed, Admiral.
EXT. KOOLARCTIC – DECK – DAWN
Crew scramble into inflatable rafts. The ship groans, listing. Explosives
detonate below deck.
INT. LIFE RAFT – MOMENTS LATER
The seams tear. Freezing water rushes in. Screams. Chaos. They cling to a
ghost fishing net, tangled. One by one, they succumb to hypothermia.
EXT. NORTH ATLANTIC
– NIGHT
Debris floats. The Sectasaur clings to a drifting container. Its breath
fogs the air. It crawls aboard the HMM ATLANTIC EXPRESS under cover of
darkness.
INT. CARGO BAY – HMM ATLANTIC EXPRESS – NIGHT
A faint chitter. A shadow moves between crates. The antifreeze in its
blood glows faintly beneath its skin.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
7 - BASECAMP
EXT.
ANTARCTIC SHORELINE – DAY
A snowcat rumbles to a halt. CHARLEY,
DAN, and JOHN disembark, faces grim beneath frostbitten gear. They begin
unloading equipment.
EXT. EXCAVATION SITE – LATER
The trio trek across windswept ice. A jagged crevasse opens before them.
Back on the Elizabeth
Swann, HAL spots something using orbiting satellites.
HAL
(quietly) Guys… to your left, 30 meters. A feint heat signature.
They descend. A body lies half-buried in snow—frozen mid-scream.
DAN
Jesus.
That’s one of the Norwegian team.
JOHN
This is The
Thing all over again.
They find another corpse nearby. Same expression. Same wounds.
CHARLEY
We need to get Storm on this. Now.
INT. BASECAMP TENT – NIGHT
JOHN (40s, obsessive DNA archivist, intense) pores over data from the Ark
DNA database. His fingers fly across the keyboard.
JOHN (to himself) This isn’t extinction by impact… it’s predation.
He overlays insect mandibles with fossilized chew marks.
JOHN (CONT'D) Vespoidea… Myrmecia Giganticus… Formicidae. Hymenoptera.
Insects. But prehistoric. Efficient. Coordinated.
He zooms in. A computer simulation, using the ARK,
shows pack hunting behavior—ants swarming a dinosaur
carcass.
INT. COMMUNICATIONS TENT – NIGHT
Charley adjusts the satellite radio. Crackle. Then—
SUKI (V.O.)
Hello, Suki Hall here.
CHARLEY
Suki, how are you?
SUKI (V.O.)
All good. What’s happening, Charley?
CHARLEY
Funny you should say that. We’ve got an unusual problem. We’re in Antarctica.
SUKI (V.O.)
No. Not you and John. Unusual? What could possibly be unusual in your
lives?
CHARLEY
We’ve discovered a new species. Giant prehistoric insects.
SUKI (V.O.)
Charley, that’s not new. Large insects evolved in the Antarctic. Canada
too.
CHARLEY
So I hear. Twelve-inch wingspans. But these are enormous. Twelve to
fifteen feet in length.
SUKI (V.O.)
You mean fifteen inches, right?
CHARLEY
No.
Specimen frozen in ice. Fifteen feet. Four and a half meters.
Silence.
CHARLEY (CONT'D)
Suki? Come in, Suki.
SUKI (V.O.)
Sorry. Just… can’t quite take that in.
CHARLEY
Neither can I. But it’s true. Or we’re all hallucinating. And get
this—dinosaur bones with chew marks matching the insect’s mandibles.
SUKI (V.O.)
No way. This is a joke, Charley. A really good one.
Suki laughs. Charley waits.
CHARLEY
John says he’ll send a DNA
sample. Conditionally.
SUKI
(V.O.)
Alright. I’ll help. But I need that sample. If it’s real… it changes
everything.
INT. ROYAL NAVY INTELLIGENCE OFFICE – NIGHT
Footage of the frozen insect plays on a monitor. Officers exchange
glances.
COMMANDER
Get me John. Now.
INT. BASECAMP – NIGHT
John scribbles in his notebook. He writes:
Species: Sectasaur Codename: King
Kong
He underlines it twice.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
8 - WHEN
DINOSAURS RULED THE EARTH
EXT.
ANCIENT EARTH – NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
A volcanic winter blankets the planet.
Ash clouds swirl. Tyrannosaurus
Rex stumbles through snow-covered terrain, emaciated. In the shadows,
something moves—sleek, fast, insectoid.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
They lived when dinosaurs ruled the Earth. But they didn’t just survive
the extinction… they may have caused it.
A pack of Insectaraptors™ swarms a Velociraptor.
Mandibles flash. Screams echo.
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. ELIZABETH
SWANN – LAB MODULE – NIGHT
SUKI
HALL (40s, brilliant, exhausted) pores over DNA sequences. HAL
(AI interface) glows faintly.
SUKI
Hal, run oxygen distribution models. I want to test dorsal aorta
efficiency.
HAL (V.O.)
Confirmed. Processing.
A 3D model of the creature’s anatomy appears—lung-like organ,
spiracles, exoskeleton.
HAL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Estimated size: three to five meters. Warm-blooded. High tolerance to
freezing. Oxygen saturation: extreme.
Suki’s eyes widen.
INT. ELIZABETH
SWANN – COMMUNICATIONS BAY – MOMENTS LATER
Suki activates the comms.
SUKI
Suki Hall calling Elizabeth Swann. Come in, Hal.
HAL (V.O.) Greetings and salutations, Miss Hall. Is it warmer where you
are?
SUKI
Yes, thanks Hal. Is John, Dan, or Charley
listening?
ALL (V.O.)
We’re all here, Suki.
SUKI
Great. Just to confirm—John’s warm-blooded, super-aspirated
hypothesis? Worth pursuing.
JOHN
(V.O.)
Uh huh.
SUKI
Charley?
CHARLEY (V.O.)
Hi Suki, how are you?
SUKI Excited and worried.
I’ve a favour to ask.
CHARLEY (V.O.)
Go ahead. We’re all in.
SUKI
This changes everything. Alters the whole prehistory landscape.
DAN (V.O.)
Understatement.
SUKI
If I’m right—or wrong—it could damage our credibility. We’ll be
called cranks.
Silence.
CHARLEY (V.O.)
Go on, Suki. We’re with you.
SUKI
Don’t let the cat out of the bag. Especially to Jill and Steve.
CHARLEY (V.O.)
Understood.
SUKI
Perfect. Not until we have enough evidence. That includes you, Commander.
JOHN (V.O.)
And what’s so funny about that?
Charley and Dan chuckle. KITTY the ship’s cat leaps onto the console.
John picks her up.
JOHN
You don’t think it’s funny, do you?
Kitty purrs.
SUKI
And no betting.
JOHN
Tell it to Shui.
But what a gamble, eh?
SUKI
Only through Ms Bird.
When we’re ready.
CHARLEY (V.O.)
Couldn’t have put it better myself.
Kitty meows.
JOHN
Kitty
approves.
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN – LAB MODULE – LATER
John reviews DNA results.
JOHN
Suki, I’ve run the DNA through Hal
and the Ark.
It’s incredible.
SUKI (V.O.) / CHARLEY (V.O.)
What’s incredible?
JOHN
They had lungs. Could warm their own blood. And their antifreeze—potent.
CHARLEY (V.O.)
Meaning?
JOHN
They were fast. Lightning. Survived extreme cold. Stronger than any dinosaur.
SUKI (V.O.)
And their sting could paralyze a dinosaur.
DAN (V.O.)
Yikes.
JOHN
A very big yikes.
SUKI (V.O.)
Be careful. It’s not just humans
who are dangerous.
JOHN
Sure thing, Suki. We love you.
He motions a kiss to the screen.
SUKI (V.O.)
Likewise, Mr Storm. Over and out.
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN – COMMAND MODULE – NIGHT
John stares at the monitor. A map shows missing teams. Red dots blink.
JOHN (V.O.)
Someone’s killing everyone in their vicinity. Gold or biology. Either
way… humans
are expendable.
He watches old footage of the Nostromo
android.
JOHN (V.O.) (CONT'D)
The objective is clear. Secure the species. We need proof.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
9 - WORST
FEARS CONFIRMED
JOHN
STORM CALLS LANGLEY
EXT. ANTARCTIC
WATERS
– DAY
The Elizabeth Swann slices through drifting ice floes, its reinforced hull
groaning against the frozen sea.
A pale sun glints off the deck.
INT. ELIZABETH
SWANN – COMMAND DECK – DAY
JOHN STORM (40s, intense, calculating) leans over the encrypted comms
panel. The hum of onboard systems fades as a secure line crackles to life.
JACK
MASON (V.O.)
Storm. This better be urgent.
JOHN We’ve got a situation. Sectasaur eggs—gone. Removed from the
site. If they hatch outside controlled conditions... it’ll make the
Komodo Dragon look like a lapdog.
INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS – LANGLEY – NIGHT
JACK MASON (50s, sharp, weary) rubs his temples. He exhales slowly.
JACK
Jesus. Prehistoric DNA. Hyperoxic evolution. You realize what that means?
INT. ELIZABETH
SWANN – COMMAND DECK – CONTINUOUS
DAN
HAWK (30s, cynical, ex-military) leans against the bulkhead.
DAN
Means someone’s either playing god... or selling nightmares. And I’m
guessing Greenpeace isn’t the buyer.
John ignores him.
JOHN
Jack, this wasn’t luck. It was planned. And considering the
murders—someone’s cleaning up loose ends.
JACK (V.O.)
You think it’s military?
JOHN
If it is, it’s black ops. If not—corporate. Bioweapons. Either way, we
shut it down. Fast.
JACK (V.O.)
How dangerous is it?
CHARLEY
TEMPLE (30s, brilliant, composed) steps forward, tablet in hand.
CHARLEY
Based on gigantism models—three meters minimum. Exoskeletal tensile
strength off the charts. No known tranquilizer effective. If it gets
loose... we’ll need containment and a damn good press strategy.
JACK (V.O.)
And I thought rogue AI was bad. Now we’ve got prehistoric hellbugs.
HAL (V.O.)
Correction, Jack Mason. Sectasaur size correlates with Carboniferous oxygen
levels—35% versus today’s 21%. Enhanced oxygen intake enabled massive
arthropods. If bioengineered for modern respiration, we could witness a
predator beyond natural history.
Dan claps his hands.
DAN
Fantastic. Just splice in venom and bulletproof plating—we’ve got
humanity’s worst idea.
JOHN
Focus, Dan.
(to Jack) Mobilize CIA
assets. Alert Interpol. Military Intelligence. If viable DNA
leaves Antarctica,
we’ve got days.
JACK (V.O.)
Alright, Storm. I’ll assemble a response team. But if the wrong hands
already have it... this isn’t containment. It’s an arms race. Watch
your back.
The line cuts.
John stares at the panel.
JOHN (V.O.)
An arms race. With monsters.
DAN
Holy fuel cells.
Do we get hazard pay?
John doesn’t answer. His fist clenches.
THE MISSING EGG
INT. ICE TUNNEL – NIGHT
Crunching boots echo through frozen silence. JOHN and DAN weave through
jagged ice formations, breath curling in the air.
DAN
Skipper! Over here—now!
John rushes over. Dan’s torch beam reveals a hollow in the ice.
JOHN
What’ve you got?
DAN
Check this out.
John adjusts his torch. A perfect egg-shaped depression gleams in the
frost.
JOHN
Turn your torch behind me.
Dan complies. John snaps photos, records video.
JOHN (CONT'D)
Clear as day. An egg’s missing. And it’s recent.
DAN
What does that mean?
John studies the imprint.
JOHN
It means someone wanted it. Badly enough to kill.
DAN
Murder over a prehistoric bug?
JOHN
Only one reason I can think of.
(taps earpiece) Hal, are you reading me?
HAL (V.O.)
Loud and clear, John.
DAN
I need one of those implants.
John’s eyes narrow. This was no accident. It was theft—with intent.
BRITISH INTELLIGENCE CALLS
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN – COMMAND DECK – TWO HOURS LATER
The ship glides under a pale sun. A call comes in—British Intelligence
via Royal
Navy.
NAVY OFFICER (V.O.)
Storm. The KoolArctic has been scuttled.
John freezes.
JOHN
What?
NAVY OFFICER (V.O.)
Gone. All hands lost. No survivors.
John’s face hardens.
JOHN
I want to search. There could be survivors.
NAVY OFFICER (V.O.)
Helicopters deployed. Nothing. No bodies. No wreckage. It’s like they
were erased.
John exhales. This was orchestrated.
JOHN
Alright. I’ll help.
NAVY OFFICER (V.O.)
You’re granted temporary Master
& Commander status. Liaise with all parties.
John nods. The Elizabeth Swann is now under official command.
But he’s not just following orders.
He’s hunting the truth.
And whoever stole that egg...
They have no idea what’s coming.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
10 - ATLANTIC
EXPRESS
HIGH
SPEED PURSUIT
EXT. SOUTH ATLANTIC – DAY
The Elizabeth Swann cuts through icy waters, her hull glinting in the pale
sun. Ice floes scatter as she surges forward.
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN – COMMAND DECK – CONTINUOUS
JOHN STORM stands at the helm, eyes locked on the horizon.
JOHN
Hal, high-speed pursuit mode, if you please.
HAL (V.O.)
We are low on power, Skip.
JOHN
Pursuit mode, Hal. Hydrofoils.
The works. No time to lose.
DAN
HAWK glances up, surprised. He says nothing. One look at John’s face
says it all.
JOHN (CONT'D)
Dan, keep a lookout for Arktiki debris. Visual sweep. Hal, any ships in
the vicinity?
EXT. ELIZABETH SWANN – MOMENTS LATER
Hydrofoils
deploy. Thrusters
roar. The ship lifts from the waves, gliding like a phantom above the sea.
INT. COMMAND DECK – CONTINUOUS
The ride is smooth. Silent. Almost surreal.
JOHN
Is that full throttle, Hal? We’re only making 35 knots.
HAL (V.O.)
My bad, Commander.
Fuel
cells open wide. Hydrogen
floods the membranes. Steam hisses.
HAL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Now cruising at 43 knots. Slight headwind.
JOHN
That’s better, Hal.
(laughs) Just a shade over. Who’s picking up the service tab?
DAN
The Admiralty, Skip. That’s for sure.
JOHN Hal, plot a better course. Minimize windage. We need to reach England
before it all goes pear-shaped.
INTERCUT: KING KONG'S ESCAPE
EXT. SOUTH ATLANTIC – NIGHT
The wreckage of the KoolArctic drifts beneath moonlight. A shadow moves
beneath the surface—massive, insectoid.
The Sectasaur, nicknamed King Kong, swims with desperate purpose.
EXT. HMM ATLANTIC EXPRESS – NIGHT
A container ship looms. King Kong intercepts, claws scraping the hull. She
climbs—slow, deliberate—until she vanishes over the rail.
INT. CARGO BAY – NIGHT
Darkness. Silence. The creature hides among crates. Listening. Learning.
V.O. – CREW TANNOY
Prepare for port call. Rio de Janeiro. Ten containers only.
King Kong twitches. She understands more than she should.
BACK TO: ELIZABETH
SWANN – COMMAND DECK
DAN
Skip, flotsam spotted. Starboard bow. Two miles south-southeast.
JOHN
Good eyes, Dan. Hal, you got that?
HAL (V.O.)
Negative. Hold on… hacking satellite.
John and Dan strum fingers on the console. They exchange grins.
HAL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
I read your vibes. Aha. Low orbit satellite confirms debris. And… a ship
passed close by.
JOHN
Close enough?
HAL (V.O.)
I’d say so.
JOHN
Great. I’ll start rowing, shall I?
HAL (V.O.)
Recalculating course. Vessel identified: Atlantic Express, out of Cape
Town. Bound for Rio.
JOHN
So we head for Rio?
HAL (V.O.)
Negative. Rio is a short stop. Final destination: Southampton.
JOHN
Not New York?
HAL (V.O.)
Cargo manifest: bully-beef, cocoa, coffee beans. Then Rotterdam.
DAN
Lucky Kong.
HAL (V.O.)
Also bananas and sugar from Cape Town.
JOHN
A feast for a King, Dan.
DAN
You thinking what I’m thinking?
JOHN
Damn right.
INTERCUT: CHANG IN PORTSMOUTH
EXT. PORTSMOUTH DOCKS – DAY
LIN PO CHANG steps off a freighter, coat flapping in the wind. He scans
the horizon, unaware the KoolArctic is gone—and that his precious cargo
now rides the Atlantic Express.
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN – COMMUNICATIONS BAY – NIGHT
John transmits encrypted data. A message flashes:
Species: Sectasaurus Rex Codename: King
Kong Status: Loose. En route to England.
John stares at the screen.
JOHN (V.O.)
Time to spread the word.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
11 - HAMPSHIRE
EXT.
PORT OF SOUTHAMPTON – NIGHT
The HMM
Atlantic Express glides into dock, massive and silent. TUGBOATS nudge
her into position. ROPES are thrown, caught, and fastened—old-school,
manual.
INT. CARGO BAY – CONTINUOUS
Darkness. A faint rustle. Something shifts among the crates.
The Sectasaur, nicknamed King
Kong, unfurls from its hiding place. Its carapace glistens with syrup
and pulp. It stretches—slow, deliberate—having feasted on bananas,
brazil nuts, sugar, and cocoa beans.
EXT. DOCKSIDE – NIGHT
CRANES swing into motion. CONTAINERS rise and fall. The hum of machinery
fills the air.
Under the cover of darkness, King Kong slinks toward the edge of the deck.
It grips a mooring rope—underslung—and begins its descent.
EXT. WHARF – CONTINUOUS
Steel and concrete meet claw and mandible. The creature lands silently. It
pauses, sensing. Then slips into the River
Test—warm compared to the frozen oceans it once knew.
EXT. HAMPSHIRE COUNTRYSIDE – NIGHT
The insectoid silhouette moves through brush and bramble. It crosses
fields, bypasses fences, and enters the outskirts of the New Forest.
EXT. NEW FOREST – DAWN
A herd of PONIES grazes peacefully. A shadow passes overhead. One pony
whinnies—then silence.
INT. NATURE GROUP OFFICE – DAY
A VOLUNTEER scrolls through reports. Missing equines. Torn fencing.
Strange tracks.
VOLUNTEER
This isn’t wolves. Or poachers.
She picks up the phone.
INT. HAMPSHIRE POLICE HQ – DAY
An OFFICER listens, scribbles notes. He dials a secure line.
INT. MI6 OPERATIONS ROOM – NIGHT
A red file marked UNCONFIRMED BIOLOGICAL EVENT is opened. A name is
circled: Commander John Storm.
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN – COMMAND DECK – NIGHT
JOHN STORM receives the encrypted transmission. He reads. His jaw
tightens.
JOHN (V.O.)
It’s here.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
12 - BUCKLERS
HARD
EXT.
THE SOLENT – DUSK
The Elizabeth Swann glides through calm waters, entering the mouth of the
Beaulieu River. The sun dips low, casting golden light across the surface.
INT. COMMAND DECK – CONTINUOUS
JOHN STORM stands at the helm, eyes fixed ahead. CHARLEY
TEMPLE and DAN
HAWK flank him.
JOHN
Bucklers Hard. That’s our entry point.
EXT. BEAULIEU RIVER
– NIGHT
The ship slows, navigating upriver. Trees close in. Mist curls over the water.
EXT. BUCKLERS HARD – NIGHT
The crew disembarks. A cross-country trek begins—through bracken, mud,
and shadow. JOHN moves with uncanny speed.
CHARLEY
Wait for me, John. (panting) No—go ahead. I’ll catch up.
She curses under her breath, frustrated. She’s fit. Almost athletic. But
John is something else.
JOHN
We’re getting closer. Tracks are fresh as a daisy.
CHARLEY
And what exactly are we going to do when we find it, oh sporty one?
JOHN
You’re right. We play it safe.
INT. ELIZABETH
SWANN – COMMUNICATIONS BAY – NIGHT
John activates the comms.
JOHN
Hal, patch me into Dan. Call London—MI6.
Request Code Yellow. Worts Gutter and Furzey Lane. Not a kill mission.
Capture only. Is that clear?
HAL (V.O.)
You’ve got it, Commander.
JOHN
Patch me in.
INT. MI6 COMMUNICATIONS BUREAU – NIGHT
A DUTY OFFICER answers.
DUTY OFFICER
Communications Bureau.
DAN (V.O.)
Good evening. Dan Hawk, HMS Elizabeth Swann, for Commander Storm.
Requesting emergency Code Yellow. Cordon Worts Gutter, near Beaulieu
River. Armed presence. Giant predator—Sectasaur. Do not kill. Valuable
specimen. Capture only. Confirm?
DUTY OFFICER
Repeat that, Mr Hawk. Did you say giant Sectasaur?
DAN (V.O.)
Yes. Prehistoric insect. Antarctica
origin. Four meters. It’s eaten ponies. Not humans.
The officer checks his screen. Storm’s covert status flashes green.
DUTY OFFICER
Confirmed. Code Yellow authorized. Actioning request.
DAN (V.O.)
Thank you, Comms. Over and out.
EXT. WOODED AREA – NIGHT
John slows. Charley catches up. The terrain is uneven—felled trees,
brambles, soft ground.
JOHN
It doesn’t add up.
CHARLEY
What do you mean?
JOHN
King Kong was on the Atlantic Express for days. No crew deaths. But on the
KoolArctic—humans were killed. Now, ponies. No humans.
Why?
CHARLEY
Maybe it wasn’t hungry?
JOHN
Insects
are ravenous during pupation. This thing needs food.
CHARLEY
Maybe it found food
in the containers?
JOHN
Still. No humans. That’s not random.
CHARLEY
You’re too examining, John. Could be coincidence.
JOHN
I don’t believe in coincidence.
Charley chuckles. She knows that. She doesn’t either.
EXT. HAMPSHIRE – NIGHT
MI6 mobilizes. LOCAL POLICE and TERRITORIAL ARMY units converge. ARMED
SOLDIERS fan out, surrounding the area.
At the center: SERGEANT HARRY “RHINO” WINDSOR (50s, grizzled,
no-nonsense) leads the charge.
SERGEANT WINDSOR
Twelve men. Full kit. No civilians harmed. Capture only. Let’s move.
EXT. WOODED RIDGE – NIGHT
John and Charley watch the soldiers fan out below.
JOHN (V.O.)
It’s gone out of its way not to kill humans. Onboard. On land. That
means something.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
13 - CAT
& MOUSE
EXT.
NEW FOREST – NIGHT
Moonlight filters through the canopy. Twigs snap underfoot. JOHN STORM
moves with precision, eyes scanning the undergrowth. CHARLEY TEMPLE
follows, breath shallow.
JOHN (whispering)
Charley,
this way. I’ve found a trail.
They follow a line of broken twigs, weaving through bracken and shadow.
CHARLEY
John…
are we going in one big circle?
High above, perched in a gnarled oak, the Sectasaur watches. Still.
Silent. Predator-like.
JOHN
Well,
Charley… I think you’re right again.
CHARLEY
Naturally.
JOHN
We’ve
just described a large circle. And you know what that means?
CHARLEY
No,
John.
They pause. The forest is too quiet.
JOHN
It’s
baiting us. Like a Wolverine in Canada.
CHARLEY
I
think it can smell us. Doesn’t need line of sight.
A low rustle. Then—
WHAM!
The Sectasaur bursts from behind the ridge, knocking Charley sideways. She
hits the ground hard, dazed.
JOHN
Charley!
John spins, grabbing a rusted axe from a nearby stump. He
swings—CRACK!—striking the creature across its thorax.
The insect
recoils, collapsing in partial shock. Its limbs twitch. Steam rises from
its carapace.
JOHN (CONT'D)
Oh
blast and damn… I’ve hurt it.
He kneels beside Charley, checking her pulse. She groans, semi-conscious.
John turns to the creature—breathing, but still. He hesitates.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
14 - FIRST
AID
EXT.
WOODED CLEARING – NIGHT
Moonlight filters through the canopy. The Sectasaur lies motionless on the
forest floor, its massive exoskeleton glinting faintly. CHARLEY TEMPLE
kneels beside it, rummaging through her knapsack.
JOHN STORM
crouches over the wound - deep, but not fatal. He applies antiseptic with
care.
JOHN
Got another bandage, please, Charley.
CHARLEY
Coming up.
She pulls out a roll of webbed gauze, hands it over.
JOHN
Thanks.
He hesitates. For a moment, the creature twitches—barely perceptible.
John pauses, then continues.
CHARLEY
Pretty good, Skip.
John smiles. He’s no medic - more engineer than nurse - but he’s doing
his best.
The Sectasaur remains still. Silent. Watching. Listening. Pretending to be
incapacitated.
JOHN
Well… what do we do now?
CHARLEY
Good point. He’s too big to move ourselves.
JOHN
Don’t you mean she’s too big?
Charley nods. John knows the biology—female workers, queens, drones. He
finishes the final wrap.
The creature’s antennae twitch slightly. It hears everything. Registers
tone. Emotion. No aggression. No threat.
These humans are different.
CHARLEY
She’s letting us help her.
JOHN
She knows we’re not enemies.
They sit in silence. The forest breathes around them.
The Sectasaur marks them down—not as prey, but as allies. The only
friends she has in this strange, inhospitable world.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
15 - THE
SECTASAUR RESCUES JOHN STORM
EXT.
FOREST LEDGE – NIGHT
The Sectasaur twitches—feigning recovery. JOHN
STORM steps back, instinctively reaching for the axe.
JOHN
Easy… easy…
The creature lashes out—reflexive, defensive. A massive limb strikes
John, sending him flying over the edge. CHARLEY
TEMPLE tumbles into undergrowth.
EXT. RAVINE EDGE – CONTINUOUS
John clings to a tangle of roots, legs dangling. Dirt crumbles beneath
him. The roots begin to tear loose.
JOHN
Okay, you’ve got me. It’s your call. I didn’t mean to hurt you—it
was reflex. Charley, run. Get help!
Charley stirs, dazed. The Sectasaur looms above the ledge. John braces for
the end.
But instead—the creature lowers itself. Carefully. Deliberately.
A massive leg extends toward John.
JOHN (CONT'D)
What the hell…
He grabs hold. The creature lifts him—slowly, steadily—back to safety.
EXT. FOREST FLOOR – MOMENTS LATER
John collapses beside Charley, breathless.
JOHN
Charley… forget help. We seem to have an accord.
CHARLEY
I noticed, John. Forgotten.
They exchange a look—equal parts awe and disbelief.
EXT. WOODED RIDGE – NIGHT
FLASHLIGHTS flicker through the trees. The Territorial Army reservists
close in—armed, tense. SERGEANT
HARRY “RHINO” WINDSOR leads the charge.
SERGEANT WINDSOR
Move! I see movement! Weapons ready!
He squints—short-sighted, misreading the scene. To him, it’s a
struggle. A threat.
SERGEANT WINDSOR (CONT'D) Target in sight. Prepare to engage!
EXT. FOREST FLOOR – CONTINUOUS
John sees the soldiers approaching. He steps between them and the
creature.
JOHN
Hold fire! She’s not hostile!
The Sectasaur crouches low, sensing danger.
Charley raises her hands.
CHARLEY
She saved him. She’s intelligent. Don’t shoot.
Rhino hesitates. Confused. But the tension crackles.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
16 - PUZZLING
SITUATION
EXT.
WOODED CLEARING – NIGHT
JOHN STORM brushes dirt from his jacket, breath steadying. Beside him, the
Sectasaur squats—massive, alien, yet oddly serene. It preens its feelers
with slow, deliberate grace.
John watches, puzzled. Then speaks—softly.
JOHN
You’re… magnificent.
The creature pauses. Turns its head. Looks directly at him.
A beat. Then another.
JOHN (CONT'D)
Oh my god.
CHARLEY TEMPLE steps forward, eyes wide.
CHARLEY
Incredible, isn’t it?
John nods, transfixed. As a scientist, he can’t help himself. He extends
his hand—palm up.
CHARLEY
No, don’t, John.
But he’s already committed.
The Sectasaur leans in. Its feelers brush his hand—delicate,
exploratory. A tickling sensation. John’s heart pounds. Its jaws could
sever his arm in a blink.
Instead, the creature gently nudges him with its mandibles. A gesture. A
choice.
John exhales. Moved.
CHARLEY (CONT'D)
Oh my god…
She’s spellbound.
The creature settles back. Watching. Listening.
JOHN
A prehistoric throwback… communicating. After just days with us. Two
ships. One hostile. One… not.
CHARLEY
I can’t believe it. We’re speaking with a species not seen on Earth
for thousands of years.
JOHN
More than that, Charley. Try a hundred thousand.
Charley smiles. A warmth spreads through her. John remains
still—shocked, bewildered, and deeply touched.
The forest is silent. The moment hangs—fragile, profound.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
17 - ALL
FRIENDS
EXT.
WOODED CLEARING – NIGHT
CHARLEY TEMPLE pushes through bracken, breath ragged. She freezes.
Ahead, JOHN STORM kneels beside the Sectasaur, now nicknamed King Kong.
The creature gently brushes John’s hand with its mandibles.
Charley blinks—disbelieving, then accepting, then questioning.
CHARLEY (V.O.)
Am I seeing this? No threat. No fear. Just… connection.
She steps forward, slowly. Extends her hand.
The Sectasaur turns. Its antennae sweep over her—smelling, tasting,
feeling.
CHARLEY
That’s ticklish.
She giggles. The creature pauses, then continues its gentle inspection.
CHARLEY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Iron oxide. Magnetite. A biological compass. Like homing pigeons.
John and Charley exchange wide grins. This isn’t a monster. It’s a
miracle.
JOHN
This changes everything.
CHARLEY
It’s not a threat. It’s a find.
A beat. Then—
GUNFIRE.
EXT. RIDGE ABOVE – CONTINUOUS
TERRITORIAL ARMY TROOPS open fire. Muzzle flashes light the trees.
SERGEANT RHINO WINDSOR leads the charge.
EXT. CLEARING – CONTINUOUS
Bullets strike the Sectasaur. It recoils, wounded.
JOHN
Stop firing, you idiots!
He leaps in front of the creature. Charley follows—but a bullet catches
her arm.
CHARLEY
Agh!
She collapses, clutching her wound.
The Sectasaur roars—not in rage, but in defense. It pushes John and
Charley aside, shielding them with its massive body.
Bullets ricochet off its exoskeleton. One strikes its head.
SLOW MOTION:
The creature stumbles. Legs falter. Mandibles twitch.
It collapses.
EXT. CLEARING – SILENCE
John crawls to its side. Charley, bleeding, watches in shock.
JOHN (V.O.)
We were friends. And now…
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
18 - HOSTILE
FIRE
EXT.
WOODED CLEARING – NIGHT
Gunfire erupts—loud, chaotic, indiscriminate. The Sectasaur moves
instinctively, placing its massive body between the bullets and the
humans.
Rounds slam into its exoskeleton—sparks, cracks, ricochets. Then one
strikes its head.
JOHN STORM
Hold fire! Stop firing!
CHARLEY TEMPLE
Stop! You’re killing her!
Charley stumbles forward, clutching her bleeding arm. Her face contorts in
pain.
The gunfire ceases. Silence falls.
EXT. CLEARING – MOMENTS LATER
John and Charley rush to the creature. It’s fading—breath shallow,
limbs twitching.
CHARLEY
She’s going, John.
John kneels, helpless. He taps his earpiece.
JOHN
Hal, I need help. Now.
HAL (V.O.)
I hear you, Commander. Very sorry, no suggestions. Just as frustrated as
you and Charley.
The Sectasaur lifts its feelers—slow, deliberate. Charley takes one in
her good hand. John takes the other.
They embrace—human and insect—united in sorrow.
A beat. Then the antennae go limp.
The creature is gone.
CHARLEY
No…
She collapses into tears. John wipes a tear from his eye—his sorrow
turning to fury.
JOHN (V.O.)
We were so close. And they couldn’t see it.
EXT. CLEARING – CONTINUOUS
John and Charley cradle the fallen creature. Their hands tremble. Their
hearts ache.
The soldiers stand frozen—realizing too late what they’ve done.
JOHN (V.O.) (CONT'D)
They didn’t understand. And now… it’s gone.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
19 - ATTACK
SUBSIDES
EXT.
WOODED CLEARING – NIGHT
The gunfire has stopped. Smoke drifts through the trees. The Sectasaur
lies motionless, its massive body slumped, antennae limp.
JOHN STORM kneels beside it, trembling. CHARLEY TEMPLE, bloodied and pale,
joins him. They each hold one of the creature’s feelers—desperate,
pleading.
CHARLEY
Come on… come on, don’t go.
Her voice cracks. Tears streak her cheeks.
John presses his hands to the creature’s thorax, attempting CPR. He
pushes hard. Again. Again.
JOHN
Come on. Stay with us.
But the exoskeleton resists. No give. No breath. No response.
He leans in, tries expired air resuscitation—but the anatomy is too
alien. The effort is futile.
CHARLEY
She’s gone, John.
John lowers his head. Silent. His sorrow channels into motion—gathering
supplies, checking vitals, refusing to stop.
Charley sobs openly. Her hand trembles against the creature’s shell.
EXT. RIDGE ABOVE – MOMENTS LATER
SERGEANT
“RHINO” WINDSOR barrels down the slope—massive, loud, euphoric.
SERGEANT RHINO
Yes! That’s how it’s done! Mission accomplished!
He whoops, hollers, slaps his chest. His radio crackles.
SERGEANT RHINO (CONT'D)
Target neutralized. No casualties. Repeat—mission success.
John hears every word. His jaw tightens. His fists clench.
JOHN (V.O.)
You endangered us. You killed her. And you call that success?
Rhino stomps closer, oblivious to the grief. Charley recoils.
JOHN (V.O.) (CONT'D)
This wasn’t containment. This was slaughter.
John stands. Slowly. Deliberately. His eyes locked on Rhino.
JOHN (V.O.) (CONT'D)
You’re a disgrace to the uniform. And I’m not a civilian.
The forest holds its breath.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
20 - NO
REMORSE
EXT.
WOODED CLEARING – NIGHT
The air is thick with smoke and sorrow. The Sectasaur lies dead. CHARLEY
TEMPLE clutches her wounded arm. JOHN STORM stands over the fallen
creature, fists clenched.
A group of TERRITORIAL ARMY SOLDIERS gather nearby. One of them—SERGEANT
“RHINO” WINDSOR—flexes his arms, showboating.
SERGEANT RHINO
Yes! That’s how it’s done!
He grins, tearing open a protein bar, chewing smugly.
JOHN
Excuse me, Sergeant.
Rhino turns, still chewing.
SERGEANT RHINO
Yes?
JOHN
Did you give the order to open fire?
SERGEANT RHINO
Good call, yeah?
John stares at him. Then—WHAM!—delivers a brutal punch to the jaw.
Rhino drops like a felled tree.
JOHN (CONT'D)
Chew on that.
The other soldiers tense, ready to retaliate. John steps forward.
JOHN (CONT'D)
I’m game if you are. But be careful—I bite.
Charley steps beside him, wincing from her injury. She raises her voice.
CHARLEY
Stop right there, soldier boys. Do you know what you’ve done? You
trigger-happy idiots.
The soldiers freeze. No reply. One by one, they lower their weapons and
back away—sheepish, ashamed.
JOHN
Better pick up Sergeant Rhino. Take him with you. You don’t leave a
fallen comrade—brain-dead or not. No hard feelings. Sometimes things get
out of control.
The soldiers salute. John returns it—cold, precise.
EXT. RIDGE OVERLOOKING CLEARING – NIGHT
LIN PO CHANG watches from a distance. His face is pale, devastated. He
lowers his binoculars.
He’s seen everything.
And in this moment, he finds unexpected kinship with his
adversaries—CHARLEY TEMPLE and COMMANDER JOHN STORM.
Respect. Earned.
FADE TO BLACK
SCENE
21 - EPILOGUE
AND DEBRIEFING
INT.
MI6 SECURE BRIEFING ROOM – NIGHT
Dimly lit. A single desk lamp casts shadows across a stack of classified
documents. COMMANDER
JOHN STORM sits alone, typing his final report.
INSERT: SCREEN TEXT TOP SECRET – Eyes Only To: Director, MI6
CC: Secretary General, UNESCO
IOC / GOOS – Global Oceanographic Observation Systems
John pauses. His fingers hover over the keyboard.
JOHN (V.O.)
An
evolutionary missing link. Lost. Not to nature… but to fear.
He continues typing.
JOHN (V.O.) (CONT'D) Recommend South
Pole excavation. Strictly scientific. No military access. Site
designation: Antarctic Area 51.
He scrolls past the section marked Personal Observations. It remains
blank.
JOHN
(V.O.) (CONT'D)
No mention of her intelligence. Her kindness. Her protection. They
wouldn’t believe us.
INT. CHARLEY TEMPLE’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
Charley watches the news. A headline scrolls:
Ghost Net Found Off U.S. Coast – Human Remains Confirmed
She lowers the volume. Her wounded arm is bandaged. Her eyes are distant.
BBC NEWS ANCHOR JILL
BIRD (V.O.)
UNESCO
calls for mandatory tagging of all fishing
gear. The net contained remains of the KoolArctic crew.
Charley exhales. Silent.
INT. MI6
BRIEFING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
John closes the report. He seals the file. Stamps it:
INSERT: STAMP TOP SECRET
He leans back. Eyes closed. A tear escapes.
JOHN (V.O.)
She was more than a specimen. She was a soul.
FADE TO BLACK
TEXT
ON SCREEN: THE END
ROLL CREDITS
...
ARTWORK
- Somewhat better than the huge ants in "Them," but perhaps not as good as
the CGI in Antman. Now a museum
exhibit in Sussex, England.
The artwork is based on an Australian Bulldog
ant.
John
Storm, the rugged ocean
adventurer is also an amateur Paleo
Anthropologist, near obsessed with his DNA
collection called 'The
Ark,' that is safely embedded in his trusty ship, the Elizabeth
Swann, protected by the ever
watchful Hal.
As the Antarctic ice melts at an alarming rate, ancient creatures long thought extinct are unearthed—gigantic prehistoric insects frozen for millennia, their eggs preserved in the permafrost. When one hatches aboard a cargo ship bound for Southampton, the nightmare begins. The crew is picked off one by one as the monstrous Sectasaur adapts, evolves, and hunts. Now, John Storm must confront the terrifying consequences of humanity’s reckless interference with nature before the escaped horror multiplies beyond control.
A
startling discovery in the ice, sharp jaws protruding from a block of
solid ice.
SECTASAUR™
PLOT SUMMARY
At a time in the not too distant future, the ice melts at both poles revealing features on the land not seen for
thousands of years. A converted Frigate, the US Arktos is discovered at the South Pole locked into melting
ice, then freed. She has been missing since an expedition in 1838. A famous ship at the time, formerly the USS Essex, she had been bought at auction in 1837 and hastily refitted by a group of explorers who had come by a fossilized artifact thought to be of considerable archaeological importance. The fossilized jaw was said to have originated in
Antarctica brought back as a souvenir by the Russian explorer
Fabian Gottlieb von
Bellingshausen during his fabled 1820 expedition.
Another fantastic discovery is a labyrinth of tunnels beneath the ice, dated by scientists to be millions of years old. Mysteriously, the scientist who discovered and dated the tunnel complex disappears, but not before his find is leaked to a Sky news researcher on the Discovery channel.
Alerting Charley Temple to the unfolding story. And yes, she rises to
the occasion, sending alerts to her fellow adventurer, John Storm.
The Antarctic is inhabited by survey expeditions from up to six counties at any one time. Though the country is not the sovereign territory of any one nation. But, by agreeing a series of treaties, an understanding is in place and this wilderness is amply protected as a result.
Three new expeditions are launched by competing concerns, the first a Swedish venture lead by a headstrong
Bjorn Atlas and his navigator
Sven
Johansson. The second expedition is a multinational effort lead by
Cathy Carter with 3 veteran arctic explorers. The third expedition is a private enterprise secretly
part funded by Chinese Triads, under the leadership of
Lin Po
Chang, a child genius and infamous martial arts champion and his two dedicated henchmen.
Taken
by surprise, and a knee jerk reaction, John goes to attack the Sectasaur,
before realising they have a rapport.
A race ensues where the teams vie with each other, to secure the archaeological prize that is there for the taking.
Lin Po
Chang, is not only a master of the martial arts (Taekwondo & Karate) but also a keen paleontologist, who predicted the existence of variant life-forms on this continent and has more than a hunch as to the inhabitants of this tunnel complex.
Several fatal accidents occur in quick succession, then an egg clutch is discovered in a section of a tunnel. For a moment all rivalry is dispatched as the parties marvel at the find. They assume the eggs are prehistoric and dinosaur remains, though the eggs have a tough leathery
exterior (Alien -
Ridley
Scott), rather than a hard shell.
Systematically, Chang eliminates the remaining opposition, pitting the Swedes against Carters
crew (Ice
Station Zebra - Alistair Mclean), until only one man and one woman remain alive to challenge Chang:
Sven Johansen and
Cathy
Carter. In a desperate act of self sacrifice, Johansen tackles Chang while Carter escapes, seriously wounded to reveal the tragic turn of events to her Sky colleague, the self same Discovery channel researcher - she dies shortly after.
Meantime, Chang deploys his talent to nurture one egg through a simulated incubation when a creature not seen on Earth during Man's evolution is brought back into an unsuspecting world.
The creature is smuggled aboard an ageing Ice Patrol survey vessel called the 'KoolArctic' bound for England, in a crate marked rock
samples (Relic & Arachnophobia), whereupon it burrows out and grows rapidly, eating two crew members of the survey vessel who discovered, then tried to kill it. Chang had already relocated the remaining eggs, before setting out to rendezvous with his precious cargo in Portsmouth, unaware of the developments onboard
KoolArctic.
The second mate on the KoolArctic reports the chaos aboard their vessel to the British Admiralty, shortly after being forced to abandon ship with the remainder of the crew, on the advice of his superiors to scupper the ship. The ship sinks but the resourceful creature manages to cling to flotsam then hitch a ride on a container ship the 'Atlantic Express' under the cover of darkness.
The
artwork is also suitable for use in "Jimmy Watson's Magic
Dinobot."
A proposed network TV serialization, about boy who saves his paper round
money to buy himself a robot for Christmas. Then, when assembled, it
come to life, to become his friend.
MI6 and the
CIA decide to send in
John
Storm, an expert diver, archaeologist and enthusiastic adventurer to report on the goings
on, in return for a generous contribution to his causes. Storm is happy to oblige if it means adding to his DNA collection for his usual fee - a hefty donation to his favourite charities. Having equipped his solar
and hydrogen powered ship, the Elizabeth
Swan, with arctic clothing and supplies, he,
Dan Hawk and
Charley Temple sped from the
Southern Ocean to the Weddell Sea and there to Deception Island, an extinct volcano.
The team set up camp onshore and soon the trio locate the excavation site, then using the 'Ark' (a DNA database) Storm uncovers disturbing new evidence to support a theory that
dinosaurs were not wiped out by a meteor striking the earth (creating an artificial ice age), but by very efficient hunting animals related to the Vespoidea or Myrmecia Giganticus taxonomic group, part of a long extinct branch of the family Formicidae of the order Hymenoptera - insects in plain speak. This strain appears to have evolved rapidly by adaptive radiation. From the evidence on site it seems that these deadly animals hunted in packs in significant numbers to overwhelm much larger animals (an example of which may be seen in 6mm army ants overcoming a 40mm bull ant and just about any animal in the jungle that gets in their way).
They
lived at a time when dinosaurs ruled the earth. Maybe, partly explaining
the demise of the smaller prehistoric creatures, such as Velociraptor.
Where Tyrannosaurus Rex would have starved in a volcanic winter, smaller
animals might have fared better. Except against creatures with a higher
tolerance to freezing conditions, and even faster reaction times.
From DNA analysis aboard an energy depleted Elizabeth
Swan, Storm estimates that this species grew to between 3-5 metres and that they were warm blooded with a high tolerance to low temperatures, with a kind of lung to supply vast amounts of oxygen to their spiracles via an organ pumped dorsal aorta to the other organs in an otherwise classic exoskeleton arrangement. Storm and Hawk realize the danger if such a creature were ever to be introduced on the mainland and with evidence that eggs have been removed from the site, alert MI6 and the CIA to the danger.
A
nightmare situation, if the Sectasaurs multiplied to threaten other
species on earth
Storm and crew head to England at high speed. Meanwhile Chang has landed in Portsmouth, to await the remaining eggs unaware that the
koolArctic is at the bottom of the ocean and the Atlantic Express then docks in Southampton to unload her containers.
The giant prehistoric animal jumps ship at night crossing the River Test heading west, finding comfort in the outskirts of the New Forest where it feeds on ponies that are in plentiful supply. Eventually, losses of these equines come to the attention of a nature group and that is passed on to Hampshire police, relayed to MI6 and thence to John Storm.
Storm and crew came into the Solent proceeding up the Beaulieu River to Bucklers
Hard. An expedition into the bracken led Storm some miles from one of the pony corpses toward a wooden area near Worts Gutter (Furzey Lane). Storm called
MI6 for backup. MI6 rushed to surround the area with heavily armed troops to protect civilians.
John Storm and Charley Temple went in hoping to somehow capture the animal without harming it. They stalked the animal for a time, but the creature had located and been stalking them, following their scent trail - when the giant insect came up from behind over the brow of a ravine and knocked Charley nearly unconscious as she reacted in fright. Storm managed to strike the creature with an axe he had picked up along the way. It fell down lying still in partial shock.
Charley and John marvel at the anatomy of this ancient breed. Ignoring the dangers, they both set about patching the creature's wound with antiseptic and bandages that Charley had brought along in case they got into trouble. The dino ant allowed them to patch her up, ignoring the pain, it lay immobile listening to the couple talking, pretending to be incapacitated. The creature understood that the dialogue between John and Charley is not aggressive or threatening, but rather caring - and marks these two humans down as allies.
The insectoid feigned recovery, when John panicked and again went for the axe. Also as a reflex action the dino ant lashed out at John, throwing him backwards over a ledge, and Charley sprawling through some undergrowth. He managed to grab hold of a few roots - he was now at the mercy of the creature.
The huge insect rushed in for what John thinks is the kill, but instead puts itself at risk on the ledge to pull John up to
safety. Meanwhile government troops are closing in and have seen what looks to them like a struggle, so increase their pace determined to kill the creature.
John dusted himself off while the magnificent insect squatted adjacent, also cleaning itself. Puzzled at the turn of events, he spoke to the animal - and the creature responded, turning its head to look at John - as if trying to understand. The giant insect regarded John's voice as a friendly sign and had logged his and Charley's scent as such.
The
clever creature jumped ship, to end up in the United Kngdom, as the
first port of call
As a scientist John could not help himself, but to offer his hand palm up to the creature. The animal moved to the hand and studied it with both of its feelers, tickling him. John's heart was pounding, the insect could easily amputate his hand with its razor sharp jaws.
Charley Temple struggled back through the bracken and saw the interaction between John and the insect. She immediately realized that for some reason the creature had accepted them as not being a threat. It had knocked her down as a reflex action. She moved in closer also proffering her hand, and again the prehistoric insect smelled her all over with its antennae. Charley giggled at the touch. Insects smell, taste and feel with their antennae and some
feelers have the magnetic mineral, iron oxide, or magnetite in them, making
their antennae into a biological compass, rather like homing pigeons.
John and Charley exchanged huge grins at the discovery. This animal was not a threat, but more of a find for mankind. Just then the government troops opened fire wounding the animal. John and Charley both leapt in front of the insect yelling at the soldiers to stop firing, but Charley caught a bullet in the arm and screamed in pain. At this the giant insect pushed them to one side and moved forward to protect them both from the gunfire. In the process, it took several more bullets and finally one to the head. It collapsed.
John and Charley got up shouting as loud as they could to hold fire. Charley was in some pain. The firing stopped, enabling them to get to the insect. It looked at them and raised its feelers, Charley took one in her good hand and John the other and the trio embraced for a minute, then the creature subsided and its antenna went limp - it was dead .........
Gone.
John shuddered with remorse, anger welling up inside of him. Charley cried
openly, tears trickling down her cheeks. A well-built soldier ran to the scene whelping with delight at the kill. "Yes," cried the soldier, making macho muscle signs with his arm. "Yes," said John, and gave him a powerful punch to the jaw, and the soldier went down.
"Chew
on that."
Charley went to hit him despite
her sore arm, but a few more men came in brandishing guns. She shouted and glared at them adopting a threatening posture.
"Do you know what you have done. You trigger happy idiots."
The soldiers had no reply, and they went away rather sheepishly; feeling
more than a little foolish. Up to that point they thought they had saved her life.
John filed a report with MI6, advising of a great loss to science. He suggested that the South Pole should be examined further for clues as to how
and when these animals evolved, lived, and survived in the ice.
Cautioning that only
fully vetted archaeologists should complete such a study, not the military. These scientists would need to be briefed by him and sworn to
secrecy under the Official Secrets Act. John also advises that the
tunnel complex should be designated "Antarctic Area
51."
He did not include in his report the few touching moments that he and Charley had
experienced with the Sectasaur. He (they) doubted anyone would believe
them. Any until the species was biologically classified, it would remain
unclear if they were alien,
or the result of evolution on earth.
A
sample of horror, science fiction comics, with giant ants or wasps at
their theme
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