As time passed, Katherine's character became stranger and stranger. The movie revealed there was another victim—a woman named Lea from the 1960s who'd experienced the exact same haunting. She'd been killed by the entity after an exorcism went wrong.
The implication was clear: whatever was haunting Katherine was planning the same fate for her.
"This is insane. She's already going crazy!" a student blurted out.
"She's not crazy—she's possessed!" another defended her.
Katherine, sitting in the audience, couldn't help but chuckle wryly at that. The crowd was debating whether her character was losing her mind or genuinely possessed. Probably both.
She smiled to herself. 'If you think this is the end of it, you're in for a shock.'
And sure enough—the scene came.
The bedroom camera showed both of them sleeping peacefully. The timestamp ticked forward. 2:47 AM.
Then, without warning—Katherine's character was suddenly yanked by an invisible force. Dragged violently across the bed and pulled off onto the floor with brutal force.
The entire theater jumped.
"Oh shit!"
"Jesus!"
Marcus, sitting with Arya and Ryan, felt a surge of satisfaction. It worked. That pull-out scene hadn't been in the original ending—it happened much earlier in the film. But he'd decided to move it here, to the climax, for maximum impact.
And judging by the screams, it had paid off.
Mike's character kept sleeping. Completely unaware.
Katherine's character lay motionless on the floor for several long, agonizing seconds. Then she slowly stood up.
And she looked... different.
Alden's eyes widened. Maxwell sat up straighter. Jefferson leaned forward.
Everyone could feel it. Her eyes were vacant. Her movements were wrong. She walked stiffly, like a puppet on strings.
Without a doubt, Katherine's character was fully possessed now.
'The movie's probably close to ending,' Alden thought, still maintaining some analytical distance. He'd seen plenty of horror films. This was clearly the climax.
Maxwell and Jefferson thought the same.
But Mike's character kept sleeping, completely oblivious.
Possessed Katherine sat on the floor in the middle of the bedroom, cross-legged, chanting in some unrecognizable language. A ritual.
Mike slept through it all.
Then she stood. Walked to the side of the bed. And just... stood there. Staring down at Mike. For hours.
The timestamp kept ticking. 3:00 AM. 4:00 AM. 5:00 AM.
She didn't move. Didn't blink. Just stared.
"Oh hell no," a student whispered.
"That's the creepiest thing I've ever seen," another breathed.
"Why isn't he waking up?!" someone hissed.
Then, at 5:13 AM, she turned and walked downstairs.
Mike finally woke up moments later. "Katherine?" He grabbed the camera and followed. "Babe? Where are you?"
He reached the bottom of the stairs. "Katherine!"
Silence.
Then—suddenly—Mike's horrible, bloodcurdling screaming. "No! No! Katherine, what are you—"
Then silence.
The theater was dead quiet.
Footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, deliberate.
Katherine's character appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. Blood on her shirt. She was smiling—but it wasn't her smile. It was something else wearing her face.
She just stood there. Swaying slightly. Staring at nothing.
Several students covered their mouths.
Then—sirens. Police lights flashing through the windows. Officers burst into the room.
"Drop the weapon! Drop it now!"
Katherine's character lunged at them.
A gunshot.
She fell.
The officers stood over her body, radios crackling. "Suspect down. We need paramedics... Jesus Christ, what happened here?"
One officer looked directly at the camera, still recording everything. His face was pale, disturbed.
The footage cut to black.
The audience sat in stunned silence.
"Holy shit," someone whispered.
But then—the screen lit up again.
[ALTERNATE ENDING]
"Wait, there's more?" someone asked, confused.
This ending was darker. After the possession, after going downstairs and the terrible silence that followed Mike's screams, Katherine came back up differently.
She was covered in blood. Moving mechanically. She walked to the center of the room and just stood there for a long moment, swaying.
Then she turned toward the camera. Her eyes were completely empty—not even the demon anymore. Just... nothing.
She picked something up off-screen. The knife.
The camera kept rolling as she looked down at it. Then at her own reflection in the bedroom mirror.
"Oh no," someone whispered in the theater. "No, no, no."
What happened next was kept just off-camera—the angle shifted just enough—but the audience heard it. Saw her collapse into frame.
The demon had used her completely. And discarded her.
The timestamp kept ticking. 6:00 AM. 7:00 AM. The camera just kept recording her lifeless body.
The theater went completely silent. That one cut deep.
"Jesus Christ," someone breathed.
"That's... that's really fucked up," another whispered, voice shaken.
"I don't like that one at all."
Even Maxwell shifted uncomfortably. That ending was genuinely disturbing—not scary, just deeply unsettling.
The screen faded to black.
Then lit up once more.
[ALTERNATE ENDING]
"Another one?" someone asked nervously.
The familiar scenes played again—the possession, the standing vigil, going downstairs, Mike's screaming.
Then silence.
Katherine came back upstairs alone. Blood on her clothes. She sat on the floor beside the bed, rocking back and forth.
The timestamp showed hours passing. 3:00 AM. 4:00 AM. 5:00 AM. Just rocking.
Then suddenly, at 5:47 AM, she stopped. Stood up.
And walked out of frame.
The audience tensed. What was happening?
Sounds from downstairs. Heavy dragging.
"Oh God," someone whispered.
Then footsteps on the stairs. Getting closer.
Katherine appeared in the doorway. She was different now—moving wrong, jerking unnaturally.
She dragged something into frame.
Mike's body.
"Oh shit—"
She suddenly hurled his body directly at the camera with inhuman strength—
The camera shook violently, tilted—
Then Katherine's face filled the entire screen, inches away—
She LUNGED with an ear-splitting demonic shriek, her face twisting into something monstrous—
The entire theater ERUPTED.
"FUCK!"
"OH MY GOD!"
"JESUS CHRIST!"
Students screamed. Actually screamed. Some jumped out of their seats. One girl shrieked so loud it echoed off the walls. People grabbed each other. Someone's popcorn went flying.
Even Alden jerked back hard in his seat, his heart hammering. Maxwell's hands were white-knuckled on the armrests. Jefferson actually yelled "Shit!" out loud.
The screen cut to black.
For real this time.
[END]
The lights came up slowly.
The entire theater was filled with nervous laughter, people catching their breath, hands pressed over racing hearts.
"I just—I just had a fucking heart attack," someone said, laughing shakily.
"That last one—oh my God, I actually hate you right now," a girl said to her friend, smacking his arm.
"I thought it was over! I completely let my guard down!"
"That was evil. That was legitimately evil."
"My heart is still pounding."
"I screamed like a little kid. I'm not even embarrassed."
"Dude, I was not expecting a student film to be that scary," one guy said, still catching his breath.
"Right? I thought it was gonna be garbage," another agreed, wiping his forehead. "That pull from the bed and then that final jumpscare—I think I died twice."
"The suicide ending though... that one messed me up."
"Yeah, that one was just depressing. The jumpscare one was scary, but that other one was dark."
"I'm never sleeping with my door open again. Never."
The same could be said for the industry people.
Alden, Maxwell, Jefferson, and the others sat in their seats for a moment longer, processing what they'd just watched.
They'd expected a waste of time. A boring obligation. A high school kid playing filmmaker with his dad's camera.
But now?
They were eyeing each other.
Competitively.
They had to acquire the rights to this movie. No matter what.
Alden and Maxwell locked eyes. They both knew instantly—the only real competition here was each other. The indie distributors and investors were small-time. But Summit Pictures and Worldwide Pictures? They were playing for keeps.
They both made a beeline straight for Nathan.
Nathan spotted all seven of them approaching and immediately noticed the shift in their demeanor compared to earlier. 'Heh. Looks like after watching the whole thing, they're convinced.'
But despite his internal satisfaction, he kept his expression humble and down-to-earth. If Marcus had been watching, he'd have recognized this act immediately—the old man trying not to be himself.
"So what'd you guys think?" Nathan asked. "Was the movie any good? Sorry about the whole handheld camera thing—it's my son's first film, so please go easy on him."
Alden jumped in first. "Are you kidding? Not at all." He leaned forward. "I actually loved it. Summit Pictures would be thrilled to pick up the rights."
"Hold on now," Maxwell cut in smoothly. "Worldwide Pictures is very interested as well."
The indie distributors exchanged uncomfortable glances. Seeing the two major studios going head-to-head made them feel completely outclassed.
"Nathan, we've worked together before," one of the indie guys said quickly. "You know we'd give this film the personal attention it deserves—"
"Personal attention doesn't mean box office," Alden shot back.
"We can offer a better deal than these corporate guys," another indie distributor tried.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Nathan raised his hands, playing innocent—though he was celebrating inside. "The movie's not mine to sell. I don't get to decide anything here. My son owns it. You'll have to talk to him."
They all paused, exchanging glances.
"Wait, seriously?" Alden pointed across the room at Marcus, who was surrounded by students. "I know you said he made it, but that kid actually created this whole thing? By himself?"
"That's my son," Nathan confirmed.
Maxwell shook his head in disbelief. "Come on, Nathan. You had to have done most of the heavy lifting, right? Directing, at least?"
Nathan waved his hand dismissively. "I helped with casting, gave him some budget, pointed him in the right direction here and there. But he's the one who directed it, shot it, edited it—all of it. I barely touched the project."
The distributors looked genuinely stunned. They'd known a teenager made it, but actually seeing the quality of the film made it hard to believe.
"If you want to discuss licensing rights, you'll need to talk to Marcus directly," Nathan said firmly. "I'm staying out of it."
They exchanged more glances, realizing he was serious, then headed toward Marcus.
Only Jefferson remained by Nathan's side. "Your kid really surprised me today."
Nathan smiled, unable to hide his pride.
Meanwhile, Marcus noticed the group of distributors approaching. He excused himself from the students and turned to face them.
"Gentlemen," Marcus said with a confident nod. "Thanks for coming out. What'd you think?"
Although they found it hard to believe Marcus had actually directed the movie without Nathan's heavy involvement, they were starting to see an advantage here.
If they weren't negotiating with the experienced Nathan, they could probably acquire the rights at a much lower price. After all, Marcus was just a high school sophomore—he probably had no idea what his film was actually worth.
"It was decent," Alden said, looking mildly impressed but nowhere near as enthusiastic as he'd been moments ago. "Your film definitely surprised us."
"I'm from Worldwide Pictures. One of the major studios in the world," Maxwell said, extending his hand. "We're very interested in acquiring the rights to your movie. What do you think?"
He was clearly using the major studio name to impress the kid.
Alden jumped in immediately. "Summit Pictures is very interested as well. Also a major studio, so you'd be in excellent hands."
"Right below Worldwide Pictures in the pecking order," Maxwell added with a smirk.
"We're neck and neck and you know it," Alden shot back.
As the two bickered, one of the indie distributors spoke up. "Look, kid, major studios sound great, but they'll bury your film in their catalog. We'll give it the attention it deserves. Personal touch, targeted marketing—"
"With a fraction of the reach," Maxwell interrupted.
"We can get this into every multiplex in America," Alden added. "Can they say that?"
Marcus just watched them with a slight smile on his face, letting them talk over each other.
Then he spoke, and what came out of his mouth surprised all of them.
"Here's what I'm looking for," Marcus said calmly. "First, I want $500,000 upfront as an acquisition fee—that's just to buy the distribution rights from me. Non-negotiable."
The distributors' eyes widened, but he continued before they could respond.
"Second, I want fifteen percent of the actual box office gross—not net, gross—after you've recouped twice your marketing and distribution costs. So if you spend ten million on marketing and distribution, I start seeing my percentage after you've made twenty million back."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Third, I retain consultation rights on the marketing campaign. You don't need my approval, but I want to be in the room when major decisions are made. And I get an executive producer credit."
"Fourth," Marcus added, "you commit to at least a wide theatrical release—minimum one hundred screens for the opening weekend, with the option to expand based on performance. No dumping this straight to DVD or VOD."
He took a breath.
"As for the ending, you can pick whichever one you think works best for the theatrical release. I filmed multiple options specifically so you'd have choices. I'm not precious about that."
The distributors looked slightly relieved at that, but Marcus wasn't done.
"And one more thing—if down the line you decide to do a sequel and I'm not involved as director, that's fine. But my contract includes a clause that I receive a story credit and a producer fee for any sequel, whether I'm involved or not. We can negotiate that amount if it ever comes to it."
Dead silence.
The distributors stared at him.
'Is this kid seriously already talking about sequels?' Alden thought, almost incredulous. 'The film hasn't even been released yet and he's already planning for a franchise?'
Maxwell was thinking the same thing. 'Five hundred thousand dollars? Fifteen percent of gross? This is insane. Who does this kid think he is?'
For a moment, nobody knew how to respond.
"You... you want what?" Maxwell finally managed.
"$500,000 upfront, fifteen percent of gross box office after you recoup twice your marketing costs, consultation rights on marketing with an exec producer credit, guaranteed wide release of at least one hundred screens, and sequel rights compensation if it ever happens," Marcus repeated calmly. "Oh, and you can pick whichever ending you want."
Marcus knew he was starting high—probably way too high. But that was the point. In negotiations, you always started higher than what you actually wanted.
They'd negotiate down, and he'd still end up with a better deal than the original filmmaker got in his previous life. He was aiming for maybe $350,000 to $380,000 and ten to twelve percent after the haggling.
But the looks on their faces told him he might have overdone it.
Alden laughed, but it wasn't friendly. "Kid, that's... that's ridiculous. Do you have any idea what you're asking for?"
"Half a million dollars for a student film shot on a fifteen-thousand-dollar budget?" Maxwell shook his head. "Come on. Be realistic here."
"And you're already talking about sequels?" Alden added. "The film hasn't even been released yet."
One of the indie distributors spoke up. "Look, I appreciate the confidence, but those numbers are way out of line for—"
"I know what the film is worth," Marcus said simply. "You wouldn't be standing here if you didn't think it could make serious money."
Alden and Maxwell exchanged glances.
The truth was, they couldn't make a decision like this on the spot anyway. These kinds of deals—especially with numbers this high—required approval from headquarters. They'd need to go back, present the film to their bosses, run the numbers.
"Look," Alden said carefully, "we're obviously interested. But I can't make a commitment like that right now. I need to bring this back to the studio, show them the film, discuss it with the acquisition team."
"Same here," Maxwell agreed. "These aren't decisions we can make in a high school parking lot. We need to take this back to Worldwide, get the executives to review it."
The indie distributors looked even more uncomfortable. They definitely couldn't meet those numbers.
"That's fine," Marcus said with a shrug. "Take your time. Think it over. But just so you know—I'm fielding offers from everyone here. First one to meet my terms gets the deal."
That got their attention.
"We'll be in touch," Alden said, already pulling out his phone.
"Very soon," Maxwell added, doing the same.
They were already calculating in their heads. If this film was as good as they thought—and the audience reaction suggested it was—then maybe those numbers weren't as crazy as they seemed.