The conversion begins!

About three weeks ago, I started learning how to convert my stories into movie-script. The first one I wrote was my Romantic Comedy, Inspirational, "Dreaming of You." I still need to tweak some places in the script, but overall, I'm pretty darn happy that I was able to do it!

The next story I'm converting is my Young Adult Fantasy, "The Witch Hunt". I'm having MORE fun with this conversion, believe it or not, and hopefully, it doesn't take me long to finish this one, too.

I thought I'd give you a sneak peak of the scene I just converted. My three characters, Rick, his sister Brooke, and their neighbor, Eric, have been inside the haunted house. Brooke took a book, which she wasn't supposed to take. They hurry out of the haunted house, and back down to their home. Now this scene takes place next...

Mr. Kings lumbers toward them.  The scent of alcohol is heavy in the air.  The forty-year-old, brown hair, man wasn't very large, but because of his bushy beard, and blood-shot eyes, he was an intimidating man.

Mr. King glares at Eric.

MR. KING
You've been up to the house, haven't you?

Mr. King's attention drops to the book in Brooke's hand.  He scowls and points at the book.

MR. KING
That came from the house.

Brooke trembles with fear

.

BROOKE
Yes, Sir.  I didn't mean to take it, I just--

Mr. King swings toward Eric and growls.

MR. KING
Get rid of it now!  You know full well the evil that book holds.

Eric doesn't move.  He doesn't speak.  Mr. King steps closer to his son, staring him down.

MR. KING
You are the keeper now.  It's your responsibility.

Eric gives a quick nod and looks away.  Mr. Kings mutters something under his breath, turns and sways as he heads back toward the house.  Eric's jaw hardens as he pushes his fingers through his hair.

BROOKE
Eric, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to upset your dad.

ERIC
He's always mad.  But he's right.  Everything that comes from that house is evil, especially the book.

Brooke gulps and looks at the leather-bound book.

BROOKE
We need to take it back, immediately.

Rick snorts

.

RICK
I'm not going.

Eric rolls his eyes at Rick.

ERIC
Well, at least you were brave enough to go up there and take some pictures.  Heaven forbid you have to return to there.
(shakes his head)
I'll take it back myself.  I don't want either of you near that place again.  And besides, you heard my dad.  It's my responsibility.

BROOKE
I'm coming with you.
(glares at Rick)
Because I'm not scared.  It's not like this was your fault, anyway.  So if we disappear, I hope your guilt-stricken for the rest of your life.

Eric bites his bottom lip as he tries to keep the grin from tugging on his mouth.  Brooke smiles at Eric, noticing that he's holding back a laugh.

Eric motions his head to Brooke.

ERIC
Come on, let's go.

Rick stays behind, as he'd promised, as Brooke and Eric walk up the hill toward the haunted house.

BROOKE
I can't believe my brother, sometimes.  He's become quite the dim-wit lately.

They pass an alley, and a dog starts barking.  She quickens her step until she's right beside Eric.

Eric zips up his jacket and stuffs his hands in the pockets.

ERIC
Maybe you were being a little hard on him.

Brooke laughs.

BROOKE
Hard on him?  You saw the way he acted.

ERIC
There's always a reason people act the way they do.

BROOKE
Yeah, because he's selfish and rude.  And.. an idiot.

They remain quiet as they continue to the house.  They reach the property, step through the fence, and head toward the house.  Brooke glances longingly at the book in her arms.

BROOKE
Eric?  Aren't you the least bit curious to what's inside the book?

She traces the gold lettering pressed into the soft leather.  Pale moonlight reveals what looks like faint scorch marks along the edges of the pages and cover as if it had almost been burned.

ERIC
I'm not curious at all.  I know how vile that thing is, and the kind of magic--
(he stops, hitching a quick breath. He looks up into the sky)
At least it's not too cold for a walk tonight.

Brooke arches an eyebrow curiously.

BROOKE
Magic?  Eric, were you trying to say magic spells?

Eric flicks the flashlight on as they near the front porch.  The crow bar Rick had used earlier to break the board away was still laying near the door.  Eric leads the way, walking inside first.  Brooke follows.

INT. HAUNTED HOUSE, INSIDE - NIGHT

They walk through the entryway and into the library.  Eric stops and points toward the bookshelf.

ERIC
Okay, put that thing away and lets get out of here.

Sighing, Brooke steps forward and balances the book on the edge of the shelf.

BROOKE
Aren't you curious to take even one little look?

ERIC
Brooke, I don't think--

Before Eric can stop her, she flips the book open and props it on her forearms.

BROOKE
Just a peek, and I promise to put it back.  I just want to see what kind of stories are in here.

Eric moves next to her.  His body is rigid and his jaw his hard.  He shines the flashlight on the book.

ERIC
Okay, hurry, so we can leave.

Brooke stares at the words.  She runs the pads of her fingers across the thick parchment.

BROOKE
Listen to what is written on the first page.
(clears throat)
To read and truly understand, one must fight the danger at hand.  To solve the riddles in this book, one must go to their heart to look.  To be freed from the mysteries' hold, one must learn from the stories untold.

Feeling puzzled, Brooke looks at Eric.

BROOKE
What do you think that means?

ERIC
I don't know, but I don't have a good feeling about this.  Let's get out of here.

She slowly turns the page, and her breath catches in her throat.  She runs her finger across the large script words Hansel and Gretel.  A brightly painted forest scene covers the rest of the page.

The green, red, and blue colors splashed on the page seem to swirl around the parchment.  Quickly, the picture began to grow...

Not believing what she's seeing, she blinks and looks again.  Towering trees, and lush, green bushes, stand out like three-dimensional pictures in a pop-up book.  The painting of Hansel and Gretel seem to come to life, as well.  Brooke even thought she could see a gingerbread cottage.

Beside her, Eric's gaze is glued to the page.  He can't move.

Slowly, tendrils of white mist lifts from the book and drifts toward them.  A sense of panic grows inside of Brooke and she clamps onto Eric's arm.

BROOKE
Wh-what's happening?

The tendrils grow larger.  Claw-like fingers curl toward them, reaching out to take hold...

ERIC
Run!

They struggle to move their legs, but they can't.  It's too late.  The white mist surrounds them and pulls them into the book.