Dread

Maybe I'm not being clear enough.

Maybe I need to be honest with you and tell you what I want.

What is it that you want?

I want your soul to open up for me.

Frustration or unhappiness are caused by the unrealized potential in a person.

Cyrenaic hedonism supported immediate gratification.

Even fleeting desires were encouraged

regardless of the pain or expense to others.

- Can I bum a cigarette? - Yeah.

I don't see you in any of the other philosophy lectures.

Ethics fulfills one of my requirements. I'm actually a filmmaker.

Are you the real deal or someone who thinks he's the next Scorsese

because he spent his Friday nights at the multiplex instead of getting laid?

I'm definitely not the next Scorsese,

and I wasn't getting laid on Friday nights

for reasons far more humiliating than being at the movies.

- Quaid. - Stephen Grace.

- Hey. - Hey.

The philosophy major here is shit anyways.

What we should be doing is flirting with the subject of any worthwhile philosophy.

You know, the things we don't understand, the things we fear,

because if we don't, then we risk...

Doesn't matter.

We risk what?

If you don't go out and find the beast,

sooner or later, the beast will come and find you.

Well, I really don't think I have fears that justify a two-hour lecture.

No? What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you?

My brother, my older brother, he died when I was 15.

How did he... How did he die?

A car accident.

He was drunk.

Losing an older sibling must have given your life a sense of frailty.

Come on. No fear of your own mortality?

No, there's not fear. It was anger, and it was sadness.

Not fear. Fear would've been selfish.

I'm telling you, I lead a pretty dull life.

Fear doesn't cross my path very often.

- Okay, I'll drop it. - Thank you.

That's me missing my train.

That's like the 10th time that alarm's gone off since I've met you.

- I'm just being practical. I... - Maybe you're afraid to live.

Hey, wake up, honey. We're home.

You tired, baby?

What storybook do you want tonight?

Can I help you?

I was in an accident, and I need to use your phone.

I'm sorry. My phone is not working. You'll have to go somewhere else.

Sarah! Sarah! Get out of the house!

Please!

Mama.

This is your mother,

your father.

- Hey. - Hey.

I didn't sleep well.

Calculus or ethics?

I went out.

- You don't go out when I ask. - I didn't plan it.

Just... Just kind of happened.

Stephen, there's a police officer here.

He asked me if I knew where you were last night.

- So much for the golden future, son. - That's funny.

What are you doing here?

I want you to come by my place tonight.

- Is that everything? - Yeah.

For what?

I want to talk to you about something. Proposition.

- What, why don't you just tell me now? - No, I can't. I gotta go.

Come after work. 64 Pilgrim Street.

- Change. - Thanks.

Nice to meet you.

Cool birthmark, by the way.

That's it for today.

It's good.

The painting? It's a hobby.

- You have any others? - No.

I trash them when I'm done.

I can't stand all these eyes staring at me.

Let me change.

So... So, I've been thinking about something.

So, you've heard of Kinsey, right?

Yeah.

- The guy who did the sex studies. - Yeah. What if we did a fear study?

Compile a survey on people's fears and what causes them.

You have access to equipment through the film program, right?

- And you need a project for your thesis. - Yeah.

Call it an experiment in catharsis.

To live another's dread vicariously, that's the...

That's the safest way to touch the beast.

Yeah. See, I don't think I really want to touch the beast that you're talking about.

Well, then, let's just do it

because it will be fucking fun to do something worthwhile.

Well, since you put it that way.

Yeah, that summer my brother died he bought this old beater of a car.

It was really cool, though.

It was a 1965, eye-shadow blue Mustang.

We drove around all summer in that thing.

I didn't want to admit it that night, but you're right.

When my brother died, the first thought that came to mind

was that I could've easily been in the car with him,

that at 15 I could've died.

So, you're in?

Yeah. I'm in.

Good. Let's celebrate.

- Hey, this is Samantha. - Hi.

- And this is Zooey, right? - Yeah.

It's a really cool name. Have you ever seen the film Killing Zoe?

What?

I said I like your name.

You shit.

Don't we use computers for that now?

Don't you know only pricks and terrorists wear sunglasses indoors?

So, I need an editor for my thesis.

- What do you think about partnering? - What would be the topic?

Dread.

We're gonna chase the beast,

discover the origins of people's deepest fears.

Reveal the dark behind the door.

Okay, I'm in.

How old were you when you had your first nightmare?

The first nightmare I really remember...

I hate moisture. The worst is when you spill a drink

and your napkin gets all wet like a fleshy mass.

- Have you ever been mugged? - Do you believe in the devil?

Have you ever been harmed by a family member?

Have you ever seen a person die?

What's your strongest memory of feeling fear?

Fuck. Fuck.

- At first it started like a fungus... - I don't believe in anything.

...but then there was this discharge.

God is man, and man thinks he's God.

When my baby sister was born, my mother's vagina ripped, like, three inches.

They had to sew her up with frigging twine.

I was 10. On that day, I vowed to never have kids.

Can we stop?

It turned out there was a worm, and it had crawled up there

when I was swimming in the lake by my grandparents' house.

And my pubes, they started to grow this cheese.

I think we have everything we need.

You know we've had five classes together. Five.

And this is the first meal we've ever shared.

Well, it's not really a meal. That's more like a botanical garden.

I'm sorry if I offend you with my roughage, Mr. Triple Bypass.

- So good. - I just don't like meat.

Your burger

makes me want to vomit.

Gross. That's lovely.

First meal. Two years.

To be honest, you know, you're probably one of the people I talk to the most.

Wow. You're such a loser.

What's up?

It's not good enough.

It's a start.

But, "I'm scared of spiders," "I'm scared of clowns,"

"I'm scared of Mickey fucking Mouse." Who cares?

Relax.

I don't believe in anything. What is there to believe in?

Do you set that thing to tell you when to take a shit?

- Give me the fucking thing. - No.

...been like ghosts.

Give me the fucking watch, Stephen.

- I'm not... - Give me the watch.

- Hey, hey! Wait. - God. What up, you two? Come on.

You fucking asshole.

Stop!

Interview me.

What?

I want to sit.

I grew up in a small town in upstate New York.

My mom worked at the local supermarket,

and my dad...

And my dad worked at the...

At a meat-packing plant about 20 miles outside of town.

They'd slaughter cattle there

and supply our markets with corn-fed organic beef.

And he'd work late.

And by the time he'd get home, my mom would always be asleep.

I'd lay there on my pillow

and listen to the sound of his boots walk to my bedroom door.

I don't know if my mother

just pretended not to know what the fuck was going on

or if she was just too weak.

You don't... You don't need to do this.

But...

What I remember the most about it was the way...

The way his flesh smelled when he'd come home from work.

This heavy, metallic smell

that would follow him home from the plant,

like warm blood on the grass,

cold fat in the freezers.

I can hardly stand to look at a piece of meat now,

let alone think about eating it.

Looks like I'll be taking iron supplements for the rest of my life, huh?

That's what I'm talking about, some fucking, honest-to-God trauma!

Yeah? I showed you mine, now you show me yours.

Come on, Quaid. How'd your parents fuck you up?

I just don't want...

Hey. I'm gonna go ahead and stay the night.

I've already missed the last train.

Wake up. Stephen, he's in the house!