Dark Tomorrow Teaser

The brand new "McVee Films" logo, now crimson red and scratchy, appears on screen for several moments.

Caption: " ...wake up..."

CUT TO: An eye slowly flutters open, then closes again.

Caption: "...be late for class..."

CUT TO: A darkened hallway, each wall lined with lockers. A teenaged boy walks through with a flashlight, his unease growing with every footstep.

Caption: "...say hello to your friends..."

CUT TO: The same teenage boy, and a younger girl looking on with worry in the middle of an empty road. It's the dead of night. CUT TO: A tall, unshaven, gruff man in his 30s grabbing the boy by his shoulder and pulling him back.

"...make peace with your family..."

CUT TO: That same teenage boy, sitting in the car with his father. His dad brushes the hair away from his son's face, as the boy sheds a silent tear.

Caption: "...and bid farewell..."

CUT TO: The boy walking through the middle of an empty suburban neighborhood, covered in blood, breathing heavily. Looks frightened as hell.

CUT TO: The boy and the gruff man (from several shots ago) walking slowly through a forest at night, a shotgun clenched in the man's hand.

Caption: "...to the world you once knew."

CUT TO: A chalky, rotting hand bursting forth through a large mirror.

CUT TO: A female cop losing her grip on a ladder slicked with blood.

CUT TO: A close up: several pairs of dirty, rotting feet running through grass.

CUT TO: The teenage boy running for his life through a creepy, mirrored hallway.

CUT TO: A bloodied train roaring through the countryside.

CUT TO: The small girl unsheathing a blood-spattered machete.

CUT TO: Sharp, red teeth closing in on somebody's throat.

CUT TO: The gruff man struggling with a chain wrapped tightly around his neck.

CUT TO: Menacing shadows darting through dimly lit, subterranean corridors.

CUT TO: The teenage boy, in a slaughterhouse, looking on with horror as an unseen menace approaches him from off-screen.

CUT TO: Several dozen hungry arms pulling a screaming woman into the ground.

Over the sweeping image of a rising sun set against a blood-red sky, slowly, the title fades in, one letter at a time:

December 2005