Surulere, Lagos, Nigeria.
[Music Cue: "Daydream in Blue" by I Monster (0:05-0:44). The song plays, then fades into the background tension.]
It is a warm Lagos dawn, yet the air carries the inexplicable, heavy atmosphere of evening. Overhead, tangled electrical wires intertwine and hug one another atop the buildings like dense, urban vines.
Inside a dilapidated block of flats lies Raymond Kuti, a history lecturer at the University of Lagos. He sleeps in a room that is architecturally lavish but overwhelmingly cluttered with the physical debris of a profoundly untidy mind.
As the sun forcefully shines down on his face, he wakes with a sudden, sharp gasp, as if he has just struggled his way back to consciousness from the very edge of death. He fumbles for his glasses, sliding them onto his nose, and picks up his cracked iPhone 6 to check the time. A strange, almost maniacal sound escapes his throat as he leaps from the bed.
A frantic, quick shower follows, and he dresses immediately in his established uniform: a signature long cream-colored jacket over a white-collared shirt and braces. He polishes his gators and downs a cup of his favorite caramel coffee before bolting out of the building. His legs move with a chaotic, desperate independence, as if they wanted to pull away from his body. He hops onto a BRT bus headed toward the university.
INT. BRT BUS - MORNING
Raymond hangs onto the overhead strap, his earphones in, bobbing his head to the fading rhythm of Daydream in Blue. Suddenly, the hair on his neck rises. He notices a tall black man with a bushy beard at the back of the bus, staring at him with a heavy, unblinking scowl.
[Sound Cue: A lonely flute whispers a wavering, breathy note.]
Raymond glances at the stranger, then quickly looks away, frowning in profound disgust.
RAYMOND (Whispering to himself) Why is this guy looking at me?
The bus screeches to a halt near the university. Raymond and the bearded man lock eyes. The stranger, who had been standing like a statue, suddenly moves.
[Sound Cue: Short, sharp brass stab cuts through the silence.]
Terror grips Raymond. He scrambles off the bus and hurries toward the university gate. He tries to suppress the panic, but when he glances back, he sees the man walking faster, closing the distance with predatory intent.
[Sound Cue: Relentless rhythmic strings drive forward.]
RAYMOND (Whispering in fear) Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…
In his haste, while peering over his shoulder, he slams right into the security guard at the gate. A slight scream escapes him.
[Sound Cue: Soft metallic shimmer passes through.]
The security guard simply smirks.
SECURITY GUARD (Mocking) Mr. Cream, you finally wore this jacket again today?!
Raymond spins around, expecting to see his pursuer, but the bearded man has vanished. He rolls his eyes at the guard and walks away, the sound of mocking laughter trailing behind him.
SECURITY GUARD 2 Does he even wash it?
EXT. UNIVERSITY HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER
Raymond walks with a flushed, embarrassed expression. He passes another lecturer.
RAYMOND Good afternoon.
The lecturer stops, surveying Raymond's familiar jacket with thinly veiled distaste.
LECTURER It's still morning…
RAYMOND Ohhh. (He forces a weak smile)
He lightly taps his forehead with three fingers, his expression shifting to one of profound exhaustion.
RAYMOND (Slight smile) I for…got.
Before he can elaborate, the lecturer has already moved on.
INT. LECTURE HALL - 2½ HOURS LATER
Raymond is nearing the end of his teaching session. His calm, friendly, and unconventional style has, predictably, led some students to ignore him completely.
RAYMOND Why it matters today: ancient civilizations left the bones of law, urbanism, statecraft, and symbolic systems we still use. Studying them teaches us how humans organize complexity, how environmental and social choices matter, and how resilience and fragility coexist in large systems. That's the sweep—from the seeds of agriculture to the palaces and markets that followed, to the long echoes those early societies send into our present. Any questions?
A male student raises his hand. Raymond nods, steeling himself for an irrelevant query.
MALE STUDENT (Smirking) How many of these coats do you have?
The room erupts into suppressed giggles.
STUDENT 2 (Jeering) Nigga, he sells them…
STUDENT 3 (Chuckling) Mr. Cream…
Raymond's expression is weary, almost defeated. He notices a young woman, Rachel, raising her hand. He nods.
RACHEL (Hastily) Humm… I'm so sorry, sir, but the question I'm about to ask isn't based on today's topic…
RAYMOND (Tired) Rachel, I've told you… we shouldn't go beyon—
RACHEL (Interrupting) Please… sir.
Raymond looks at her with a thoughtful sigh and finally gives a reluctant nod.
RACHEL What ancient civilizations believed in distinct dual personalities in one body?
The question silences the room instantly. Raymond is genuinely surprised. He locks eyes with the student; he wasn't prepared for this.
RAYMOND My class has ended. I'll get back to you in the next class.
INT. THERAPY OFFICE - EVENING
[Music Cue: Soft rhythmic percussion builds under the dialogue.]
Raymond is in his regular therapy session with Adisa Williams. She is the professional anchor helping him navigate the memory loss and sense of reality he has grappled with since the coma. Raymond maintains a warm, thoughtful expression, while Adisa observes him with her usual clinical curiosity.
RAYMOND (Upset) Why are you staring at me like that? Should you be…? I don't know, it's part of your job, and it's okay because you're not the first person to do it today…
He looks away, staring thoughtfully out the window.
ADISA (Pensive) Do you want to talk about that?
RAYMOND (Smirks) I don't know, do I?
ADISA It's your call.
RAYMOND The usual…
ADISA Okay. (She leans forward) Let me ask you this… just answer like I never asked you. RAYMOND-How has it been after the coma?
ADISA(Nods in confirmation) Yes.
RAYMOND-Well, just the usuals, nothing's changed. Having coffee, warm sunlight… Well, it wasn't cold before. (Chuckles nervously) Tautology…
ADISA (Smiles while nodding) Go on.
RAYMOND-Yeah, weird faces looking at me, not making any friends, being asked stupid questions…
ADISA (Pensive) Are you pissed because people are asking you questions?
[Sound Cue: Subtle orchestral swell tightens the atmosphere.]
RAYMOND (Anxious) Not that…
ADISA You know that could be a good lead.
RAYMOND (Confused) Real, I know, but this one's different. Like… (He chuckles nervously) Like this girl in my class, Rachel. She asked me what civilizations believed in dual personalities. Like, who wants to know? What does a girl her age want to know about that? Where do I even start?
ADISA (Pensive) Well, that's telling us something, isn't it? Just a couple of steps… you…
RAYMOND (Voice dropping, filled with mystery) What if it's something else? What if it's something uncontrollable I'll be?
ADISA (Pensive) That's the problem. You don't know that.
RAYMOND Like the frowns people give me every day. I feel like I've done something bad to them. (Confused) But I don't… I don't remember. And that scares me—if I did.
ADISA Maybe it's your perception of society.
[Sound Cue: Low strings pulse quietly.]
RAYMOND (Slightly upset) You think it's my perception of society?
ADISA Yes.
[Sound Cue: Soft, descending strings fade in briefly.]
RAYMOND (Whispering in disappointment) I don't know why I keep coming to you…
ADISA Raymond, look at you. You're still wearing the same jacket…
RAYMOND I don't want to talk about that.
ADISA Yeah, you don't, but you still listen to that same music… Daydream? You haven't made any friends at all. You aren't in a relationship…
Raymond's gaze fixes on the window as tears begin to fall silently from his eyes, the physical manifestation of emotional pain.
ADISA (Confused) Are you crying?
RAYMOND- No, no. My eyes are sensitive to sunlight. (He forces a weak chuckle)
ADISA- You are keeping yourself in a loop, Raymond. Same thing every time. I feel like you aren't moving forward… it's not helping. You have to move forward to know the true version of yourself.
EXT./INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT
[Music Cue: Gentle orchestral dip lowers the mood.]
Raymond stepped off the bus and walked home in the rain without an umbrella, instantly soaked. He was trying to text a potential romantic partner, only to realize, with a fresh sting of rejection, that the person had blocked him. Frustrated, he accidentally dropped his phone into a rushing gutter filled with water. He stared at the spot for a brief moment, annoyed but strangely accepting. He took a deep breath and continued walking. His phone was gone.
INT. APARTMENT - 20 MINUTES LATER
Dried off and drinking a fresh cup of coffee, Raymond approached his massive bookshelf, his curiosity now fully piqued. He searched for books he owned on ancient documentaries about dual personalities. As he searched, a book suddenly tumbled from the shelves.
He picked it up, frowning in surprise.
[Sound Cue: Eerie flute builds up…]
It was an ancient documentary on hyper-rhetorics and hypnosis. This confused him—he was certain he had never purchased such a title. Intrigued, he decided to do a quick scan of its pages.
He walked to the window, glancing outside through the frosted glass. Suddenly, he spotted him. The same man from the morning.
[Sound Cue: Intense music builds up slowly - eerie flute fades in and out.]
Through the wet pane, the man glared at Raymond with intense, murderous rage. Ray staggered backward in fear, and then, suddenly…
[Sound Cue: Short, sharp string scrape cuts in briefly then builds.]
KRIIING!! KRIIING!!
His landline telephone was ringing, terrifyingly loud. He slipped the book from his hand but chose to ignore the call as it persisted. He walked back to the window, only to find the man had vanished. Confused, he took a step back just as the phone stopped ringing. He noticed the page from the fallen book—it revealed his own handwriting, quoting a biblical scripture: "The power of life and death lies in the tongue."
Immediately…
KRIIING!! KRIIING!!
The phone rang again. He snatched it up.
RAYMOND (Whispering in feverish fear) Hello…
UNKNOWN CALLER (Sinisterly) Hello, Ray…
[Sound Cue: Brief orchestral swell spikes, then stops.]
Raymond dropped the phone in fearful haste. He had heard something impossible: his own voice, but corrupted, speaking back to him in a sinister tone. Then, suddenly…
[Sound Cue: Short, sharp brass stab cuts through the silence then swells.]
THUUD!! THUUD!! THUUD!!
Someone was knocking on his door. The blows were brutal, terrifying, making the wood feel thin and fragile, as if a monster were on the other side. Fear was etched across Raymond's face. He turned to look at the door and slowly stepped backward.
The phone rang again. The relentless knocking continued. He picked up the receiver.
[Sound Cue: A lonely flute whispers a wavering, breathy note.]
RAYMOND (Tears in fear) Hello? Why are you bothering me? Leave me alone, what have I done to you?!
[Sound Cue: Short, sharp string scrape cuts in briefly.]
UNKNOWN CALLER (Sinisterly) KEEP SHUT! YOU RECESSED CHROMOSOME! I'M NOT THE ONE KNOCKING! You disgust me…
RAYMOND (Shocked in fear) Then… then who are you? Why are you calling me?
UNKNOWN CALLER (Sinisterly) You let me rot… I'm the real one, you are some aberration, an anomaly…
RAYMOND (Confused in fear) I, I don't understand…
UNKNOWN CALLER Quit stuttering and let me out of here! LET ME OUT!
[Sound Cue: Soft metallic shimmer passes through.]
Raymond swiftly dropped the phone in terror. He stared, transfixed, at the violently knocked door.
Suddenly, the knocks stopped.
In the heavy silence, Raymond stood for two minutes, staring. Finally, he walked to the door and opened it. No one was there, but a note lay on the floor. It read: "I've finally found you."
[Sound Cue: Orchestral chord swells suddenly, then drops into silence.]
Raymond shivered violently, the note clutched in his hand. He walked back to his bed and collapsed, praying for the oblivion of sleep.
EXT. LAGOS STREETS - MORNING
The Next Morning…
[Background music: "Blame" by Gabriels; 0:00-1:45. It plays, then slowly fades…]
Raymond wakes to a brown, cold morning. The air is thick, carrying a chill that settles deep in his bones. After freshening up, he heads out to the supermarket.
(Slow-motion effect)
The streets seem to choke him as he paces forward. He perceives haunting eyes hiding in the depths etched into reality, gazing at him from every shadow. He glances frequently over his shoulder. Suddenly, his eyes lock onto an old woman staring at him with intense, crushing sorrow. She tries to suppress her tears, but they drop forcefully, running down her weathered face. Raymond looks at her in pure misery, his lips moving without sound.
RAYMOND(Mutely)What have I done?
[A lonely flute whispers a wavering, breathy note]
Suddenly, the old woman starts to cry blood. The thick red liquid streams from her eyes, making Raymond shiver in intense fear. His own face feels soaked with sweat. Then, she slumps to the ground. Passengers and pedestrians on the street rush to gather and help her, but it is too late; they end up lifting her corpse. Raymond, face twisted in trauma, keeps walking, forcing himself toward the supermarket.
INT. SUPERMARKET - MOMENTS LATER
The supermarket door slides open and closed. Raymond walks in, keeping his head down, trying not to look at anyone as a residue of shivers runs through him. He reaches the aisle of beverages, looking precisely for coffee, when someone standing behind him—ostensibly looking for oats—speaks.
[Suspicious music fades in and out…]
JUBRIL-Isn't it strange?
Raymond, still facing forward, looks scared. The voice feels like a threat. He keeps searching for his specific brand of coffee, ignoring the man, until the stranger adds:
JUBRIL It was warm yesterday, now it's cold today…
Raymond realizes the comment is casual. He forces a smile onto his face—a mask of normalcy—and turns to the man.
RAYMOND(Smiling in confusion)In fact, guuuuuyyyy…
JUBRIL(Smiles)Do you know where the oat section is?
RAYMOND(Confused)Ohh… ohhh, no. It's at the extreme of the left.
JUBRIL(Smiles in suspicion)You really don't remember me, do you?
[Soft bass thump hits once, quick and tense]
Raymond's facial expression transitions instantly from a smile to a slightly fearful frown. Jubril scans Raymond's outfit.
JUBRIL(Suspicious)At least today you aren't on your usuals… Raymond.
[Subtle orchestral swell tightens the atmosphere]
This makes Raymond stagger backward in fear. He turns and walks away quickly, suppressing the adrenaline urging him to run. He meets up with the cashier, quickly pays, and rushes out of the supermarket, heading home.
INT. APARTMENT - SOME MINUTES LATER
Raymond barges into his apartment. His neck feels choked; he tries to adjust his collar, gasping. He is sweating profusely. Every sound in the room amplifies—the hum of the fridge, the wind outside—blending into a high-pitched whine. It is all intense. Everything becomes loud and muffled simultaneously, making the high-pitched sound painfully audible. He covers his ears—tight, tighter—but the noise only gets louder inside his head.
And then, it all halts.
It is quiet again.
Trembling, he makes himself a cup of coffee, sits at his study table, switches on his lamp, and opens the book on hyper-rhetorics and hypnosis. What he comes across raises his eyebrows. He sees pages detailing sounds that trigger ultra-states of consciousness. He sees trigger words and how to use them. Then, he sees chapters on sorcery and the ancient origins of it.
In a swift motion, he pushes the book away in anger and confusion. The pieces aren't fitting together for him. While he is lost in his thoughts…
KRIIING!! KRIIING!!
[A lonely flute whispers a wavering, breathy note]
The telephone rings. Fear is sown brutally onto Raymond's face as the sound frightens him back to reality.
[Uneasy eerie music fades in]
KRIIING!! KRIIING!!
He mistakenly knocks over his cup of coffee as he tries to stand up to answer it. He pauses, looking at the spill.
KRIIING!! KRIIING!!
The sound frightens him again. He stands up fully. Suddenly…
THUD!! THUD!! THUD!! THUD!!
He hears enormous, boot-heavy footsteps coming towards his door. Slowly. Deliberately.
KRIIING!! KRIIING!!
He swiftly picks up the call. For a moment, he can feel the stench of silence crawling out of the phone. And then, he hears it.
CALLER(Sinisterly calm)Yyyyyoooouuuuu boyscout…
RAYMOND(Afraid)Hello?
CALLER(Sinisterly calm)Quiet. Stop sweating … Someone is coming.
RAYMOND(Confused)Wait, how did you…?
CALLER(Sinisterly)Heyes. He's going to kill us.
RAYMOND(Confused in fear)…Us? Who's Heyes?
CALLER(Sinister chuckle)He will be your worst nightmare.
THUUD!! THUUD!!
[Short, sharp brass stab cuts through the silence]
The heavy, brutal knocks start again, but this time it feels like the door is about to shatter. This makes Raymond shiver in fear. He staggers backward, letting his grip slip off the phone.
Suddenly, the door is bolted out of the wall, crashing to the ground.
[Soft metallic shimmer passes through]
Raymond's eyes stretch wide in shivering fear. He sees the huge black man from yesterday, now clad in a black hood, merging into the gloomy darkness of the hallway. He stands as still as a statue, gazing at Raymond with wide-opened yellow eyes that contrast violently with his dark skin.
For a moment, they gaze at each other in perfect silence. Raymond shivers slightly, and then, he screams.
RAYMOND(Intense fear)HELP ME!!
No one answers. The man, who stood as still as a statue, suddenly sprints towards him.
[Relentless rhythmic strings drive forward]
Raymond screams, tears streaming down a face worn by terror as the man gets closer.
RAYMOND(Intense fear in tears)JESUS!!!! JESUS!!!! JESSSUUUUUUSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!
Then, he wakes up.
It was a dream.
It's Night….
[Closing background music: The Sweet Escape by Gwen stefani• Akon 0:00-0:50]
He lifts his head from his study table. A pool of saliva soaks the book he is reading. His coffee sits beside him, as cold as the morning.
He chuckles.