This movie script for the full-length feature film, Hell Hole, is based on Donald Firesmith's novel, Hell Holes: What Lurks Below.
Wednesday, October 10, 2018
Review: Hell Hole: The Original Screenplay by Donald Firesmith & Leland Anderson @DonFiresmith
Hell
Hole: The Official Screenplay
Genre: SciFi,
Paranormal Horror
When
a huge hole opens up in the path of a controversial new pipeline, the oil
company’s head of safety convinces her estranged husband to fly up to Alaska’s
North Slope and investigate. But when geologist Jack Oswald rappels down into
the mysterious pit, he discovers it is unlike anything he has ever seen. Giant
wolf-like creatures attack the nearby protester camp, slaughtering both
wildlife and people. When they kill protesters and even the oil company’s armed
guards, a member of a secret society dedicated to defending humanity from
demons has no choice but to reveal herself. The survivors soon learn there are
worse monsters than hellhounds. To repair his broken marriage, Jack only needs
to save his wife, defeat a devil, seal the hell hole, and put an end to
Armageddon. What could possibly go wrong?
This movie script for the full-length feature film, Hell Hole, is based on Donald Firesmith's novel, Hell Holes: What Lurks Below.
This movie script for the full-length feature film, Hell Hole, is based on Donald Firesmith's novel, Hell Holes: What Lurks Below.
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My Review:
A hole has opened up in the Arctic spewing out demons from
hell. Jack a scientist and his ex-wife along with a whole cast of others have
to close this hole to save the human race.
Jack, his ex-wife, Mark and others were investigating this
whole in the ground when an earthquake occurs and these hellhounds come running
out killing any and everything in their path.
When I saw the movie script of Hell Hole I knew I had to
read it as I read the book that it is based on Hell Holes: What Lurks Below and
really loved it. I knew there were differences in how a book was written and
how a movie script was written and I had to see the difference for myself.
There are major differences in both but I did enjoy reading the movie script
and I do hope that it is made into a movie because I would really love to see
this story on the big screen.
I would like seeing the hellhounds come pouring out of the
hole. I can just imagine the size of them they would be so huge maybe like a dinosaur.
Well I don’t know if they would be quite that big or not but at least as big as
the vehicles maybe. People would be running in every direction with the
hellhounds hot on their tails. Hellhounds chasing after the vehicles running down
the road there would be thousands and thousands of hellhounds all big and muscular.
The people would look something like an aunt beside the hellhounds.
Hell Hole is one the greatest books or movie script I have
read both flowed along real smooth from beginning to end. I was so lost that I
read it in one setting I couldn’t put it down. I can’t wait to see this one on
the big screen sometime in the near future.
If you love horror with lots of excitement and danger
lurking around every corner then you are going to love Hell Hole.
Hell
Holes
Book
1: What Lurks Below
It’s
August in Alaska, and geology professor Jack Oswald prepares for the new school
year. But when hundreds of huge holes mysteriously appear overnight in the
frozen tundra north of the Arctic Circle, Jack receives an unexpected phone
call. An oil company exec hires Jack to investigate, and he picks his
climatologist wife and two of their graduate students as his team.
Uncharacteristically, Jack also lets Aileen O’Shannon, a bewitchingly beautiful
young photojournalist, talk him into coming along as their photographer. When
they arrive in the remote oil town of Deadhorse, the exec and a biologist to
protect them from wild animals join the team. Their task: to assess the risk of
more holes opening under the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and the wells and pipelines
that feed it. But they discover a far worse danger lurks below. When it
emerges, it threatens to shatter Jack’s unshakable faith in science. And
destroy us all…
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Excerpt:
Hell Holes: What Lurks
Below
In The Hole
“Professor, take a look at this,” Mark said, squatting
down and pointing at the nearest mound of dirt. He held his hand a few inches
over it. “There are small holes, and I can feel gas escaping from them. That’s
weird; it should be freezing, but it’s actually warm.” He leaned over and
sniffed the air just above the hole. “Jesus, that reeks,” he cursed as he stood
up and rubbed his eyes.
I reached down. There was a
surprisingly large flow of gas coming out of the hole. I looked around at all
of the other mounds of dirt dotting the ice on which we were standing. “Shit,”
I exclaimed. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
“Why?” he asked with a
confused look on his face. “We just got here.”
“Prudhoe Bay natural gas is
about three fourths methane. One eighth is ethane, propane, and other heavier
hydrocarbons, while the remaining eighth is carbon dioxide. I’m not worried
about the methane and ethane; they’re lighter than air and will drift up and
out of the hole. But carbon dioxide, propane, and hydrogen sulfide are all
heavier than air and build up in low areas.”
“Like the bottom of this
hole,” Mark said as the nature of our danger dawned on him.
“Like the bottom of this
hole,” I agreed.
Although I was breathing
rapidly, it was becoming increasingly harder to catch my breath. Both were
early signs of carbon dioxide poisoning. Meanwhile, my eyes were really
watering, my nose was running, and my lungs were starting to burn. Hydrogen sulfide
combined with the water on their moist surfaces to form hydrosulfuric acid. I
had a dull headache and was becoming increasingly nauseated. Worse, the stench
of sulfur had begun to disappear: a classic symptom of hydrogen sulfide
poisoning. “We have to head back up and strap on oxygen tanks and full face
respirators before we come back down.”
“Okay, Professor,” he
replied, looking at me with concern. “You’re definitely not looking so good.”
Weak and increasingly clumsy,
Mark had to help me reach the rope and secure it to my climbing harness. Then
he said into his walkie-talkie, “Angela, there’s hydrogen sulfide and excessive
carbon dioxide down here, and we need to get out of here right now. It’s made
the professor sick, so I’m sending him up first.”
“Understood, Mark,” Angie
replied, her voice indicating her concern. “Is he ready?”
“Yes, all hooked up,” Mark
replied.
A second later, the rope
began pulling me up. It sped faster and faster until I was practically running
up the side of the hole. Soon, I was up to where the permafrost gave way to
damp dirt. I slipped going over the boundary, and the rope dragged me face
first over the short muddy slope. Bill helped me climb over the ridge of dirt
surrounding the edge and unhooked my climbing harness.
Coughing and unable to catch
my breath, I stumbled into Angie’s arms. The caustic gasses at the bottom of
the pit had set off one of my ordinarily rare asthma attacks, leaving me
gasping for air. I fumbled through my pockets, found my rescue inhaler, and had
to give myself three puffs before my breathing became easier. Meanwhile, my
eyes were still burning and watering so heavily that I heard rather than saw
Bill throw the end of the rope back into the pit and use the winch to lower it
rapidly into the hole. After helping me wipe the mud from my face, Angie
wrapped me a bear hug, totally heedless of the muck she was transferring to her
own face and clothes.
“It’s down,” Jill said, her
voice amplified through our walkie-talkies.
Bill stopped the winch, and
we waited for Mark to tell us when he was ready to come up.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Mark said.
“Bring me up.”
Bill restarted the winch, and
the rope began winding itself back around its spinning shaft.
Feeling stronger, I let go of
Angie and turned back towards the pit so I could watch Mark being raised over
the edge. It was at that moment, through eyes still somewhat blurry from tears,
that I saw Kowalski. He was standing near the edge of the hole, a few feet
downwind so that the smoke from his cigarette wouldn’t bother us. He took a
final puff and carelessly flicked the still smoldering butt into the pit.
“Stop!” I croaked, my voice
raspy and painful from coughing.
Kowalski turned towards me,
and our eyes met. Unaware of what he’d just done, he was completely confused by
the expression of horror on my face.
After seconds that seemed to
stretch into eternity, the cigarette butt tumbled past Mark and eventually
reached the depth where the concentration of methane and hydrogen sulfide
reached explosive levels.
Hell
Holes
Book
2: Demons on the Dalton
When
hundreds of huge holes mysteriously appeared overnight in the frozen tundra
north of the Arctic Circle, geologist Jack Oswald picked Angele Menendez, his
climatologist wife, to determine if the record temperatures due to climate
change was the cause. But the holes were not natural. They were unnatural
portals for an invading army of demons. Together with Aileen O'Shannon, a
1,400-year-old sorceress demon-hunter, the three survivors of the research team
sent to study the holes had only one chance: to flee down the dangerous Dalton
Highway towards the relative safety of Fairbanks. However, the advancing horde
of devils, imps, hellhounds, and gargoyles will stop at nothing to prevent
their prey from escaping. It is a 350-mile race with simple rules. Win and
live; lose and die...
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About
the Author
A
geek by day, Donald Firesmith works as a system and software engineer helping
the US Government acquire large, complex software-intensive systems. In this
guise, he has authored seven technical books, written numerous software- and
system-related articles and papers, and spoken at more conferences than he can
possibly remember. He's also proud to have been named a Distinguished Engineer
by the Association of Computing Machinery, although his pride is tempered
somewhat by his fear that the term "distinguished" makes him sound
like a graybeard academic rather than an active engineer whose beard is still
slightly more red than gray.
By night and on
weekends, his alter ego writes modern paranormal fantasy, apocalyptic science
fiction, action and adventure novels and relaxes by handcrafting magic wands
from various magical woods and mystical gemstones. His first foray into fiction
is the book Magical Wands: A Cornucopia of Wand Lore written under the pen name
Wolfrick Ignatius Feuerschmied. He lives in Crafton, Pennsylvania with his wife
Becky, and his son Dane, and varying numbers of dogs, cats, and birds.
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