## Scene: Cafe in Alborn, MN **INT. CAFE - DAY** Sunlight streams through the cafe windows, illuminating the worn wooden tables and the gentle murmur of conversation. MARIE, a young woman with bright eyes and a mess of dark curls, sits alone, her camera nestled on the table beside her. She studies the photos on its screen, her brow furrowed. Her gaze lingers on a particular image – a desolate stretch of woods, its trees gnarled and skeletal against the afternoon sky. Across the room, HUNTER, a tall man with a sharp jawline and steely eyes, watches her intently. He is nearing the end of his coffee, his gaze fixed on Marie’s troubled expression. Hunter sets his mug down with a resounding clink and rises. **HUNTER** (approaching her with a firm step) Excuse me, miss. He stands before Marie, his presence filling the small space between their tables. Marie jumps slightly, startled, before forcing a weak smile. **MARIE** (in French) Oui? Hunter frowns. His face registers confusion and irritation. **HUNTER** I saw you taking pictures of the woods. That area, south of town – it’s where the last disappearance happened. He leans forward, the intensity of his gaze only heightening. **MARIE** (in French) C'est... c'est très effrayant. Je ne comprend pas. She looks away, her eyes darting nervously around the cafe. Her voice is barely a whisper, laden with a palpable fear. **HUNTER** (confused) What? I’m sorry, I don’t understand… **MARIE** (shaking her head) Non. Non, vous ne comprenez pas. Her expression crumbles, and she buries her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling. **HUNTER** (gently) It’s okay… I… He stops, searching for words. His eyes land on Marie’s camera, still on the table. He picks it up, the image of the woods still displayed on the screen. **HUNTER** (pointing to the picture) This… what is this? **MARIE** (lifting her head, her eyes red-rimmed) Ce n'est pas… Il y a quelque chose… quelque chose qui se cache dans les bois. She shivers, her fingers tightly clutching the strap of her camera. **HUNTER** (confused) I… I don’t… Suddenly, the ringing of a cell phone breaks through the quiet tension. Hunter pulls his phone out, his brow furrowing as he answers it. **HUNTER** (into phone) Yeah, yeah… I’ll be right there. He sighs and slips his phone back into his pocket. **HUNTER** (to Marie) I’m sorry, I have to go. But… if you see anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call me. He gives Marie a knowing glance, then turns and strides out of the cafe. Marie watches him go, her face a mask of fear and confusion. She picks up her camera, her fingers tracing the cold metal of its surface. **MARIE** (to herself, in French) Il faut que je parte d'ici. Je dois m'en aller. She gathers her things, her gaze lingering on the empty seat where Hunter had been moments before.