The Black-Eyed Children (2025) Movie Script
1
Police department.
Hello, please help me,
my name is Lisa Caldwell.
I'm calling from
Prineville, Oregon.
Where in Prineville exactly?
Um, near the town from
its first bus stop.
My daughter...
My daughter,
Madeleine is missing.
She was not on the bus, I
don't know what happened.
Please try to calm
down, I'm here to help.
What exactly happened, ma'am?
How old is your daughter?
Ten.
She was in camp for a week and
she was supposed to
come home today, but
she's not here,
she never arrived.
I already called the camp,
they said she got on the bus.
Which camp are we
talking about, ma'am?
Saint Beatrice.
Yeah, Saint Beatrice.
Sunriver, Oregon.
Please, my little girl.
Ma'am. Ma'am, are you there?
Can you hear me?
Ma'am?
You have to tell me exactly what
you are doing to find my son,
okay?
Nothing has happened and
no one has said anything.
Sir, the investigation is
ongoing and we are doing
everything we can to find you
son and the others.
Bullshit, that's not enough!
I don't sleep, I've even moved
as close to the area as
possible.
I walk in the woods
every day and every night!
You know it's hard to talk about
without starting to theorize.
So we heard a lot of crying,
shouting and strangely enough
sometimes laughing, giggling.
They all sounded like children.
We found nothing, but
a few abandoned toys.
I thought it was all a
myth, you know, and then
I was walking my dog, Betsy,
when
three of them reappeared in
front of me, about fifty yards
away.
At precise distances
from each other.
Betsy just kept
barking and barking
and I
I was literally shaking.
I was reaching in my pocket for
my cell phone, but it wouldn't
work at all, didn't even turn
on.
When I looked back at
them, they were gone.
In a blink of an eye.
Have you found anything, Sir?
Nothing.
It's empty.
There's no card in it.
We'll look around the house.
Leave that to me.
Understood, Sir.
Hello! My name is
Claire Russell.
Um...
This is Claire Russell.
I study child psychology at the
Oregon Health and Science
University.
This is my second year.
And...
One of my um...
One of my exam
requirements is to...
So, I'm going to work on a case
study video by the end of the
year.
It's been my third
recording so far.
And as I see it's not getting
much better so it will be a
fourth one, I can see it now.
Should I do it later maybe?
Okay.
Take four.
So I decided to take a job where
I could be close to little kids
and.
I'm gonna work in
a children's camp.
Yeah.
I'm sure it's gonna
be very exciting.
Although sometimes I can
barely even take care of myself.
Okay, I think I'll cut this
out before anyone finds out.
In terms of the camp, the
majority of the children are
orphans or
come from families where
they cannot offer to travel.
I've worked in a place
like this before.
Helping people in
need. In a kitchen.
I remember
a little girl.
I will never forget
the look in her eyes.
And the way she stood
in front of me with the tray.
Sometimes she'd turn up.
A very thin and little girl.
And that day she was
queuing for the third time, of
course she was very hungry, but
that I found it almost strange.
After her third round.
I ran out from the counter
and I saw that
there were two empty plates
next to her little brother.
And she just started to eat.
I think I can partly thank to
that little girl that I ended up
in this field.
And I've always wanted to work
in a place where I could help
them, so.
I'm very happy for
this opportunity.
The journey is quite
long, nearly four hours.
I had to send them a video
introduction and they said
they'd call me back, but then
they didn't call me back.
I just got an email that I got
the job and when I could start.
I've tried to call them,
but they never answered.
Maybe they'll hire me as a
telephone operator after all, it
wouldn't hurt them.
The last thing I needed.
Hi Junebug.
At first I thought I'd send you
an email, but these keyboards
are getting smaller and smaller.
And I couldn't reach
on your phone either.
Um, I don't have much time.
I've got an important case I
need to be working on, but
somehow all messages to you end
up here.
Look.
Junebug, I just want
to say I'm sorry.
Things went wrong.
Somewhere.
Seems strange to say it
like this, through messages.
I've sent you some money,
I would like you to use it.
And seeing as we are into
unsolicited advice right now
perhaps you shouldn't
embark on such a journey.
The money should
cover several months
of your expenses,
not to mention.
I have to go.
Think carefully about
what I've just said.
And please
let's talk sometime.
Take care.
Hey, it's me.
I told you, John, I
don't want your money.
Do you hear what I'm saying?
I don't want your money.
Screw your money!
That's the last thing
I've ever needed.
And screw you!
Screw you for leaving us.
For being a cowardly piece of
shit to come to Mum's funeral,
screw your goddamn checks, your
sneaks.
Screw my childhood,
you son of a bitch!
And if you've never been able to
be present in my life, then be
so kind as to get out of it for
good.
As well as my emails, since I
never told anybody where I was
planning to go, so I guess
you've been digging there too.
Stop calling me.
Nothing?
I don't know what
happened, it just went off.
And the surprise winner
in the best film category is...
Hermit.
Based on the true life tale
of Christopher Thomas Knight
who lived completely isolated
in the forest for three decades.
Andrew Beenie took home the best
actor award for his lead role in
the film.
Meanwhile Planet Hope, featuring
the world famous primatologist
Jane Goodall won in the best
international documentary
category.
We also have a winner, a
local winner to celebrate.
Our very own Val
Harvester, who directed
this morning's strange,
unpredicted meteor shower caused
power outages in many parts of
the city
but several people reported
electrical discharges, which
were also attributed to this
phenomenon.
As far as we've been informed,
they have begun to rectify the
problems and are asking for the
public's patience.
In any case, it is a rather
strange phenomenon, as
camelopardalids have already
visited the Earth in late
and we will not have the chance
to see a similar phenomenon
until March next year.
However, the natural light from
the moon's phase could further
complicate the...
We think we're alone, but
we're far from being alone.
If only a tenth of all those
stories, documents, even
recordings are true
it's worth wondering
if we might be wrong.
What I'm trying to say is it's
wrong to conclude, what's more,
it's pure arrogance, to think
that we are the only one in the
I've just arrived here.
Let's look around, shall we?
Okay, let's go.
They don't seem to be
waiting for me, huh?
You're going to think I'm stupid
but there's this funny feeling.
A feeling that I've
been here before.
Even though I'm sure I haven't.
Yet everything
seems so familiar.
Hello?
Is anyone here?
This is getting
to be quite funny.
Hello?
Nothing.
Nothing and no one.
What the hell is that?
Poor little guy.
Where the hell is everyone?
Hello, I'm here.
Okay.
What the fuck has
happened here, seriously?
This is not funny at all.
What is that?
This poor thing.
I bet nobody played with you.
Wakey-wakey, little baby.
Oh, my god.
I love you.
Do you wanna be my friend?
Oh, at last, it's Claire
Russell, may I speak with Mr.
Donahue, please?
I'm the new camp counselor,
I've just arrived here.
We've been waiting
for you, Claire.
What? Hello?
Hello, can you hear me?
Surprise.
Okay.
Hello, anyone here?
Why should you work, huh?
Of course.
Magnificent.
I'm in one of the
rooms downstairs.
Okay.
Drawings on the wall, so there
must have been someone here.
Wow.
It's not exactly I was
drawing when I was a kid.
What the hell just
happened here?
Hello?
Anyone upstairs?
My God.
Nobody's here.
Oh, my God.
Holy shit.
Why are the tables set?
This place gives me the creeps.
Oh, yes.
Great.
What's this?
I found some books.
And an ugly yellow
phone, is anyone missing it?
What the hell?
What?
How can you still work?
No.
It's...
It can't be, it's
just impossible.
It's just my number in it.
It's the director's phone.
It has to have more than
one phone number on this list.
Okay.
Okay everybody, come in
out, I'm sick of your bullshit!
Okay, okay.
You had me, now we
can wrap this up!
Okay.
It has to be
something that makes
me forward, anything.
Names.
Okay.
Okay, okay, that's a start.
Hallo?
Um, hello, my name
is Claire Russell.
I'm calling from Camp St.
Beatrice, I'm one of camp
counselors here,
I have in front of me an
application form for an Emily
Stevenson, her contact had this
number.
Who am I speaking to?
My name is Claire Russell and
I'm calling from Camp St.
Beatrice, looking for a contact
for Emily Stevenson.
I'm sorry, but is this
some kind of joke?
No, it's not, I'm
I just... it's me.
Excuse me?
I am Emily Stevenson,
you are talking to me.
There must be some mistake.
I have the girl's application
form in front of me, and for
some inexplicable reason, I'm
here, completely alone at the
There has been almost 25
years since I've been there.
I must have been nine,
maybe ten years old.
No, no, no, there must
be a misunderstanding.
Camp St. Beatrice, 2001.
I remember my father
died a month later.
Um, I'm very sorry for your
loss, but I still don't
understand.
How could I have reached anyone
on a phone number that was
active over twenty years ago?
That's... that
would be impossible.
My mother never changed it.
I'm here with her.
I live with her,
in our family home.
She needs full time supervision.
I lost my father many years ago.
I have to take care of my
mother as best as I can.
I understand.
What did you say your name was?
Claire. Claire Russell.
It's strange.
You know my mother was diagnosed
with frontotemporal dementia.
I'm slowly but surely
losing her too.
I knew my mother wasn't
conscious, but...
She repeatedly mumbled questions
about whether I knew a woman
named Claire
and whether she
called me already.
What are you talking about?
So my first question
still applies.
Is this a joke?
This is madness.
Something is
very, very wrong here.
Hello, this is Claire Russell,
I'm calling from St. Beatrice
Camp.
I'm looking for the contact for
Sophia Jasperson, is this the
right number?
Has she been found?
I'm sorry, but I
don't understand.
I'm Peter Jasperson,
Sophie's father.
Have you found her?
I'm sorry, I just.
- I just work here, there's
nobody... - Are you from the
police?
Are you investigating
my daughter's case?
No, no, I just started today
here at St. Beatrice as a camp
counselor, I work here.
You don't mean to tell me
they've reopened that bloody
place after what happened to my
daughter.
And the others.
No, I... there seems to be some
misunderstanding. I got a job
here, or
at least I thought I did, but
there's not a single soul here.
Then you better get out of
that place as soon as possible.
What happened to your daughter?
It's been fifteen years now.
The camp was over and she was
supposed to come home by bus.
I was working that day, I
couldn't pick her up, but
she never got on that bus.
The police combed the whole
area, or so they said, but after
a while I didn't believe them.
They were hiding something.
I spent weeks out there
trying to find my daughter.
A few years after the incident,
it turned out that Sophie wasn't
the only one missing in the
area.
We tried to work together, even
paid for a lawyer, but some of
us couldn't stand the
uncertainty any longer.
And then there were others who,
as awful as it is to say, seemed
resigned to the whole thing.
That their child would
never come home again.
That's impossible.
You know what's really weird?
What?
I never found the camp again.
After Sophie disappeared, I wore
out my feet, but the camp...
It was like it
vanished into thin air.
I knew where I took my daughter,
I drove her there, it...
It's impossible that I
couldn't find the place again.
I even had a word with
the camp director.
Who was the camp
director at that time?
Donahue.
It can't be.
I'll never forget his name.
He avoided my eyes
when I left Sophie there.
Like... like he was
afraid of something.
Or someone.
Did you see him
after the incident?
I had every desire to, as did
the other parents, but no matter
how hard we tried,
we never found him again.
If you're there... in St.
Beatrice, you've really got
to...
Oh, my God.
Wow.
It may be another warning sign
to get the hell out of here.
No.
Come on.
Come on!
Fuck me.
Fuck!
Are you from the camp, guys?
What the children of
the corn is going on here?
Hey!
Hey, it's not good
to be here, come in.
Hey, guys!
For the love of fuck.
Stop doing this right now!
This is not a good way to start
our relationship, I'm telling
you.
Enough from the
hide-and-seek, okay?
You won, but that's it!
It's not funny.
You have to obey me,
so come out right now!
Oh, shit.
You have exactly two
minutes to come in!
Come on in, will you?
They're hiding and watching,
just wait and see.
Oh, there are monsters,
for you,
and me.
Maybe not the best lullaby.
But most of my
children loved it.
I first told that old
nursery rhyme in 1988
after spending five years with
building St. Beatrice with my
own hands.
They were all my children.
After my wife Beatrice died
they were all I had left.
And I aimed to make those
children feel at home here.
Give them a sense of belonging
somewhere, even it was only for
a short time.
They loved being here.
Playing, making friends,
being in the nature.
I was proud of what
this place had become.
Then
one cold morning.
I couldn't sleep.
So, I was going
out onto the porch.
When I saw one of
the little girls
coming out of the woods.
So thin, so frail.
I can see her right now.
Just like she was
standing in front of me.
She apologized for disobeying,
going into the woods at night.
Agatha.
I'll never forget her name.
Or the look she
gave me that night.
Her eyes were black.
Completely empty.
I asked her where she'd been.
What happened to her.
She just said...
She said she met
monsters in the woods.
Her knees and arms were bruised.
So I went inside to get a piece
of cloth and some warm water.
To clean her wounds, but
when I came back she was gone.
I called the police right away.
But the police didn't come.
Strange people came instead.
After a while I started to
call them the untouchables.
They said everything
was just fine.
The camp should just keep
running and they would take care
of their
business.
They made me part
of the whole thing.
I tried to run away, I did!
But they tracked me
down, took me back.
They told me to do my job.
Told me to run the camp just
like nothing ever happened.
Then
they started experimenting.
Seventeen children disappeared.
They made sure nothing leaked.
No investigation, no press.
Those who were desperate to find
their children were silenced.
Sooner or later.
In one way or another.
Although the untouchables didn't
expect for some of the children
to reappear.
There's something
about this place.
It goes beyond all
we're able to understand.
I think Agatha found something
that could answer
everything.
I tried to look for it.
But I couldn't find it.
Just small clues.
Strange lights in the sky.
The suffocating
atmosphere of the woods.
Almost envelopes you.
Makes you feel
there's no escape.
Occasional knock on
the door or window.
Children's voices
in the darkness.
And an unknown gateway
that may have been
open for decades.
If a tribe
isolated from the world
finds gold in the river
what to them is the
gold shiny in the sieve
when what they value most is
the water in which is washed.
I believe it exists.
Just as I believe not
all of us can see it.
It's waiting to be found.
Right in front of us.
But no one's been looking
hard enough to see it.
I think St. Beatrice
is a gateway
to those secrets.
Decades have passed.
It would be foolish to think
that those children will always
remain children.
And God have mercy on us if they
all decide to turn against us
one day.
We can't be so arrogant
to think we can
control everything.
And I can't be so arrogant as to
think that I can escape the
consequences of not protecting
my children.
I let them down.
There are so many secrets
waiting for you, Claire Russell.
There's a reason you're here.
I was too cowardly to
look them in the eye.
To confront the untouchables.
You can't hide like I did.
The Beatrice was my life.
And now.
I'm taking what's left of it.
Who's there?
Stay right there!
Get out of here, get
the fuck out of here!
Hallo?
Please let us in.
No fucking way.
What do you want from me, huh?
We need you to come with us.
- We need your help.
- My help?!
What could I
possibly do to help?
You should help me
get out of this place.
What the hell happened here?
Don't ask a question
you know the answer to.
I don't know the answer.
So you tell me.
Agatha.
Every morning, right, Claire?
It's in you.
The sadness.
The fear.
And some kind of
strange feeling.
What?
A feeling that everything
has led you here.
You've been here before.
No I haven't.
You saw the gateway.
You stepped through it for a
moment when you were here as a
child.
You just erased that memory.
But deep down you know
you don't belong here.
This world has nothing
left to give you.
We cannot take you with
us, it has to be your choice.
I'll go with you to the gateway.
If we play hide-and-seek first.
Deal?
I used to love this
game when I was a kid.
It was my favorite one.
I'll go with you,
but first, we play.
Let's play.
Okay.
Count to fifty.
But don't cheat,
cover your eyes.
And count to fifty.
Oh, shit!
Off you go!
My eyes.
You found me.
Her mother and I
cooked her favourite.
She didn't have a phone.
I just tried to call
the camp over and over.
But all I heard was
a beeping sound.
I just.
I just wish I hadn't
let her go, you know.
Our family is not rich, if it
were, there would be a whole
army looking for those kids.
Without it, all we can do is sit
back and waiting for something
to happen.
You are totally in the dark,
there's not a bloody suspect.
And everyone who
worked in the camp is gone.
Come on, you think
I'm fucking stupid?
Do you think all the
parents are idiots?
This is far more than fiction
or something you can find
hundreds of times on the
internet.
The really big mysteries always
remain in the background, okay?
They deliberately
don't talk about it
and anyone who gets even a
little bit close to the case is
fucked!
I chose you to take
charge for a reason.
Somewhere deep down I
knew this would happen.
I can count on one hand the
number of times she's listened
to me.
She was seven when
I adopted her.
Her father abandoned
her when she was born.
And then was
found dead in a ditch with a
needle in his hand not long
after.
I know Claire has been to the
other side before, when she was
a little child.
Her mother made her go to every
camp she could, just so she
wouldn't be home.
This way proved to be the most
effective one for me to get to
the
bottom of all of this.
The doctors said she
had about a year to live.
With successful treatment, it
could probably have been pushed
up to three years.
What those children know can
fundamentally change everything
we humans know or are even
capable of comprehending.
Keep researching and keep the
authorities and any overzealous
parents or hacks away from the
camp.
Find her.
If you can track her down,
you'll find the children too.
Sir, I think...
Do I look like someone
who cares what you think?
It's an order.
Sweep the area around the camp.
If you've done that,
sweep the woods.
And then the whole
goddamn state.
I'll be there
tomorrow.
I think St. Beatrice
is a gateway to those secrets.
Decades have passed.
It would be foolish to think
that those children always
remain
children.
And God have mercy on us if they
all decide to turn against us
one day.
Police department.
Hello, please help me,
my name is Lisa Caldwell.
I'm calling from
Prineville, Oregon.
Where in Prineville exactly?
Um, near the town from
its first bus stop.
My daughter...
My daughter,
Madeleine is missing.
She was not on the bus, I
don't know what happened.
Please try to calm
down, I'm here to help.
What exactly happened, ma'am?
How old is your daughter?
Ten.
She was in camp for a week and
she was supposed to
come home today, but
she's not here,
she never arrived.
I already called the camp,
they said she got on the bus.
Which camp are we
talking about, ma'am?
Saint Beatrice.
Yeah, Saint Beatrice.
Sunriver, Oregon.
Please, my little girl.
Ma'am. Ma'am, are you there?
Can you hear me?
Ma'am?
You have to tell me exactly what
you are doing to find my son,
okay?
Nothing has happened and
no one has said anything.
Sir, the investigation is
ongoing and we are doing
everything we can to find you
son and the others.
Bullshit, that's not enough!
I don't sleep, I've even moved
as close to the area as
possible.
I walk in the woods
every day and every night!
You know it's hard to talk about
without starting to theorize.
So we heard a lot of crying,
shouting and strangely enough
sometimes laughing, giggling.
They all sounded like children.
We found nothing, but
a few abandoned toys.
I thought it was all a
myth, you know, and then
I was walking my dog, Betsy,
when
three of them reappeared in
front of me, about fifty yards
away.
At precise distances
from each other.
Betsy just kept
barking and barking
and I
I was literally shaking.
I was reaching in my pocket for
my cell phone, but it wouldn't
work at all, didn't even turn
on.
When I looked back at
them, they were gone.
In a blink of an eye.
Have you found anything, Sir?
Nothing.
It's empty.
There's no card in it.
We'll look around the house.
Leave that to me.
Understood, Sir.
Hello! My name is
Claire Russell.
Um...
This is Claire Russell.
I study child psychology at the
Oregon Health and Science
University.
This is my second year.
And...
One of my um...
One of my exam
requirements is to...
So, I'm going to work on a case
study video by the end of the
year.
It's been my third
recording so far.
And as I see it's not getting
much better so it will be a
fourth one, I can see it now.
Should I do it later maybe?
Okay.
Take four.
So I decided to take a job where
I could be close to little kids
and.
I'm gonna work in
a children's camp.
Yeah.
I'm sure it's gonna
be very exciting.
Although sometimes I can
barely even take care of myself.
Okay, I think I'll cut this
out before anyone finds out.
In terms of the camp, the
majority of the children are
orphans or
come from families where
they cannot offer to travel.
I've worked in a place
like this before.
Helping people in
need. In a kitchen.
I remember
a little girl.
I will never forget
the look in her eyes.
And the way she stood
in front of me with the tray.
Sometimes she'd turn up.
A very thin and little girl.
And that day she was
queuing for the third time, of
course she was very hungry, but
that I found it almost strange.
After her third round.
I ran out from the counter
and I saw that
there were two empty plates
next to her little brother.
And she just started to eat.
I think I can partly thank to
that little girl that I ended up
in this field.
And I've always wanted to work
in a place where I could help
them, so.
I'm very happy for
this opportunity.
The journey is quite
long, nearly four hours.
I had to send them a video
introduction and they said
they'd call me back, but then
they didn't call me back.
I just got an email that I got
the job and when I could start.
I've tried to call them,
but they never answered.
Maybe they'll hire me as a
telephone operator after all, it
wouldn't hurt them.
The last thing I needed.
Hi Junebug.
At first I thought I'd send you
an email, but these keyboards
are getting smaller and smaller.
And I couldn't reach
on your phone either.
Um, I don't have much time.
I've got an important case I
need to be working on, but
somehow all messages to you end
up here.
Look.
Junebug, I just want
to say I'm sorry.
Things went wrong.
Somewhere.
Seems strange to say it
like this, through messages.
I've sent you some money,
I would like you to use it.
And seeing as we are into
unsolicited advice right now
perhaps you shouldn't
embark on such a journey.
The money should
cover several months
of your expenses,
not to mention.
I have to go.
Think carefully about
what I've just said.
And please
let's talk sometime.
Take care.
Hey, it's me.
I told you, John, I
don't want your money.
Do you hear what I'm saying?
I don't want your money.
Screw your money!
That's the last thing
I've ever needed.
And screw you!
Screw you for leaving us.
For being a cowardly piece of
shit to come to Mum's funeral,
screw your goddamn checks, your
sneaks.
Screw my childhood,
you son of a bitch!
And if you've never been able to
be present in my life, then be
so kind as to get out of it for
good.
As well as my emails, since I
never told anybody where I was
planning to go, so I guess
you've been digging there too.
Stop calling me.
Nothing?
I don't know what
happened, it just went off.
And the surprise winner
in the best film category is...
Hermit.
Based on the true life tale
of Christopher Thomas Knight
who lived completely isolated
in the forest for three decades.
Andrew Beenie took home the best
actor award for his lead role in
the film.
Meanwhile Planet Hope, featuring
the world famous primatologist
Jane Goodall won in the best
international documentary
category.
We also have a winner, a
local winner to celebrate.
Our very own Val
Harvester, who directed
this morning's strange,
unpredicted meteor shower caused
power outages in many parts of
the city
but several people reported
electrical discharges, which
were also attributed to this
phenomenon.
As far as we've been informed,
they have begun to rectify the
problems and are asking for the
public's patience.
In any case, it is a rather
strange phenomenon, as
camelopardalids have already
visited the Earth in late
and we will not have the chance
to see a similar phenomenon
until March next year.
However, the natural light from
the moon's phase could further
complicate the...
We think we're alone, but
we're far from being alone.
If only a tenth of all those
stories, documents, even
recordings are true
it's worth wondering
if we might be wrong.
What I'm trying to say is it's
wrong to conclude, what's more,
it's pure arrogance, to think
that we are the only one in the
I've just arrived here.
Let's look around, shall we?
Okay, let's go.
They don't seem to be
waiting for me, huh?
You're going to think I'm stupid
but there's this funny feeling.
A feeling that I've
been here before.
Even though I'm sure I haven't.
Yet everything
seems so familiar.
Hello?
Is anyone here?
This is getting
to be quite funny.
Hello?
Nothing.
Nothing and no one.
What the hell is that?
Poor little guy.
Where the hell is everyone?
Hello, I'm here.
Okay.
What the fuck has
happened here, seriously?
This is not funny at all.
What is that?
This poor thing.
I bet nobody played with you.
Wakey-wakey, little baby.
Oh, my god.
I love you.
Do you wanna be my friend?
Oh, at last, it's Claire
Russell, may I speak with Mr.
Donahue, please?
I'm the new camp counselor,
I've just arrived here.
We've been waiting
for you, Claire.
What? Hello?
Hello, can you hear me?
Surprise.
Okay.
Hello, anyone here?
Why should you work, huh?
Of course.
Magnificent.
I'm in one of the
rooms downstairs.
Okay.
Drawings on the wall, so there
must have been someone here.
Wow.
It's not exactly I was
drawing when I was a kid.
What the hell just
happened here?
Hello?
Anyone upstairs?
My God.
Nobody's here.
Oh, my God.
Holy shit.
Why are the tables set?
This place gives me the creeps.
Oh, yes.
Great.
What's this?
I found some books.
And an ugly yellow
phone, is anyone missing it?
What the hell?
What?
How can you still work?
No.
It's...
It can't be, it's
just impossible.
It's just my number in it.
It's the director's phone.
It has to have more than
one phone number on this list.
Okay.
Okay everybody, come in
out, I'm sick of your bullshit!
Okay, okay.
You had me, now we
can wrap this up!
Okay.
It has to be
something that makes
me forward, anything.
Names.
Okay.
Okay, okay, that's a start.
Hallo?
Um, hello, my name
is Claire Russell.
I'm calling from Camp St.
Beatrice, I'm one of camp
counselors here,
I have in front of me an
application form for an Emily
Stevenson, her contact had this
number.
Who am I speaking to?
My name is Claire Russell and
I'm calling from Camp St.
Beatrice, looking for a contact
for Emily Stevenson.
I'm sorry, but is this
some kind of joke?
No, it's not, I'm
I just... it's me.
Excuse me?
I am Emily Stevenson,
you are talking to me.
There must be some mistake.
I have the girl's application
form in front of me, and for
some inexplicable reason, I'm
here, completely alone at the
There has been almost 25
years since I've been there.
I must have been nine,
maybe ten years old.
No, no, no, there must
be a misunderstanding.
Camp St. Beatrice, 2001.
I remember my father
died a month later.
Um, I'm very sorry for your
loss, but I still don't
understand.
How could I have reached anyone
on a phone number that was
active over twenty years ago?
That's... that
would be impossible.
My mother never changed it.
I'm here with her.
I live with her,
in our family home.
She needs full time supervision.
I lost my father many years ago.
I have to take care of my
mother as best as I can.
I understand.
What did you say your name was?
Claire. Claire Russell.
It's strange.
You know my mother was diagnosed
with frontotemporal dementia.
I'm slowly but surely
losing her too.
I knew my mother wasn't
conscious, but...
She repeatedly mumbled questions
about whether I knew a woman
named Claire
and whether she
called me already.
What are you talking about?
So my first question
still applies.
Is this a joke?
This is madness.
Something is
very, very wrong here.
Hello, this is Claire Russell,
I'm calling from St. Beatrice
Camp.
I'm looking for the contact for
Sophia Jasperson, is this the
right number?
Has she been found?
I'm sorry, but I
don't understand.
I'm Peter Jasperson,
Sophie's father.
Have you found her?
I'm sorry, I just.
- I just work here, there's
nobody... - Are you from the
police?
Are you investigating
my daughter's case?
No, no, I just started today
here at St. Beatrice as a camp
counselor, I work here.
You don't mean to tell me
they've reopened that bloody
place after what happened to my
daughter.
And the others.
No, I... there seems to be some
misunderstanding. I got a job
here, or
at least I thought I did, but
there's not a single soul here.
Then you better get out of
that place as soon as possible.
What happened to your daughter?
It's been fifteen years now.
The camp was over and she was
supposed to come home by bus.
I was working that day, I
couldn't pick her up, but
she never got on that bus.
The police combed the whole
area, or so they said, but after
a while I didn't believe them.
They were hiding something.
I spent weeks out there
trying to find my daughter.
A few years after the incident,
it turned out that Sophie wasn't
the only one missing in the
area.
We tried to work together, even
paid for a lawyer, but some of
us couldn't stand the
uncertainty any longer.
And then there were others who,
as awful as it is to say, seemed
resigned to the whole thing.
That their child would
never come home again.
That's impossible.
You know what's really weird?
What?
I never found the camp again.
After Sophie disappeared, I wore
out my feet, but the camp...
It was like it
vanished into thin air.
I knew where I took my daughter,
I drove her there, it...
It's impossible that I
couldn't find the place again.
I even had a word with
the camp director.
Who was the camp
director at that time?
Donahue.
It can't be.
I'll never forget his name.
He avoided my eyes
when I left Sophie there.
Like... like he was
afraid of something.
Or someone.
Did you see him
after the incident?
I had every desire to, as did
the other parents, but no matter
how hard we tried,
we never found him again.
If you're there... in St.
Beatrice, you've really got
to...
Oh, my God.
Wow.
It may be another warning sign
to get the hell out of here.
No.
Come on.
Come on!
Fuck me.
Fuck!
Are you from the camp, guys?
What the children of
the corn is going on here?
Hey!
Hey, it's not good
to be here, come in.
Hey, guys!
For the love of fuck.
Stop doing this right now!
This is not a good way to start
our relationship, I'm telling
you.
Enough from the
hide-and-seek, okay?
You won, but that's it!
It's not funny.
You have to obey me,
so come out right now!
Oh, shit.
You have exactly two
minutes to come in!
Come on in, will you?
They're hiding and watching,
just wait and see.
Oh, there are monsters,
for you,
and me.
Maybe not the best lullaby.
But most of my
children loved it.
I first told that old
nursery rhyme in 1988
after spending five years with
building St. Beatrice with my
own hands.
They were all my children.
After my wife Beatrice died
they were all I had left.
And I aimed to make those
children feel at home here.
Give them a sense of belonging
somewhere, even it was only for
a short time.
They loved being here.
Playing, making friends,
being in the nature.
I was proud of what
this place had become.
Then
one cold morning.
I couldn't sleep.
So, I was going
out onto the porch.
When I saw one of
the little girls
coming out of the woods.
So thin, so frail.
I can see her right now.
Just like she was
standing in front of me.
She apologized for disobeying,
going into the woods at night.
Agatha.
I'll never forget her name.
Or the look she
gave me that night.
Her eyes were black.
Completely empty.
I asked her where she'd been.
What happened to her.
She just said...
She said she met
monsters in the woods.
Her knees and arms were bruised.
So I went inside to get a piece
of cloth and some warm water.
To clean her wounds, but
when I came back she was gone.
I called the police right away.
But the police didn't come.
Strange people came instead.
After a while I started to
call them the untouchables.
They said everything
was just fine.
The camp should just keep
running and they would take care
of their
business.
They made me part
of the whole thing.
I tried to run away, I did!
But they tracked me
down, took me back.
They told me to do my job.
Told me to run the camp just
like nothing ever happened.
Then
they started experimenting.
Seventeen children disappeared.
They made sure nothing leaked.
No investigation, no press.
Those who were desperate to find
their children were silenced.
Sooner or later.
In one way or another.
Although the untouchables didn't
expect for some of the children
to reappear.
There's something
about this place.
It goes beyond all
we're able to understand.
I think Agatha found something
that could answer
everything.
I tried to look for it.
But I couldn't find it.
Just small clues.
Strange lights in the sky.
The suffocating
atmosphere of the woods.
Almost envelopes you.
Makes you feel
there's no escape.
Occasional knock on
the door or window.
Children's voices
in the darkness.
And an unknown gateway
that may have been
open for decades.
If a tribe
isolated from the world
finds gold in the river
what to them is the
gold shiny in the sieve
when what they value most is
the water in which is washed.
I believe it exists.
Just as I believe not
all of us can see it.
It's waiting to be found.
Right in front of us.
But no one's been looking
hard enough to see it.
I think St. Beatrice
is a gateway
to those secrets.
Decades have passed.
It would be foolish to think
that those children will always
remain children.
And God have mercy on us if they
all decide to turn against us
one day.
We can't be so arrogant
to think we can
control everything.
And I can't be so arrogant as to
think that I can escape the
consequences of not protecting
my children.
I let them down.
There are so many secrets
waiting for you, Claire Russell.
There's a reason you're here.
I was too cowardly to
look them in the eye.
To confront the untouchables.
You can't hide like I did.
The Beatrice was my life.
And now.
I'm taking what's left of it.
Who's there?
Stay right there!
Get out of here, get
the fuck out of here!
Hallo?
Please let us in.
No fucking way.
What do you want from me, huh?
We need you to come with us.
- We need your help.
- My help?!
What could I
possibly do to help?
You should help me
get out of this place.
What the hell happened here?
Don't ask a question
you know the answer to.
I don't know the answer.
So you tell me.
Agatha.
Every morning, right, Claire?
It's in you.
The sadness.
The fear.
And some kind of
strange feeling.
What?
A feeling that everything
has led you here.
You've been here before.
No I haven't.
You saw the gateway.
You stepped through it for a
moment when you were here as a
child.
You just erased that memory.
But deep down you know
you don't belong here.
This world has nothing
left to give you.
We cannot take you with
us, it has to be your choice.
I'll go with you to the gateway.
If we play hide-and-seek first.
Deal?
I used to love this
game when I was a kid.
It was my favorite one.
I'll go with you,
but first, we play.
Let's play.
Okay.
Count to fifty.
But don't cheat,
cover your eyes.
And count to fifty.
Oh, shit!
Off you go!
My eyes.
You found me.
Her mother and I
cooked her favourite.
She didn't have a phone.
I just tried to call
the camp over and over.
But all I heard was
a beeping sound.
I just.
I just wish I hadn't
let her go, you know.
Our family is not rich, if it
were, there would be a whole
army looking for those kids.
Without it, all we can do is sit
back and waiting for something
to happen.
You are totally in the dark,
there's not a bloody suspect.
And everyone who
worked in the camp is gone.
Come on, you think
I'm fucking stupid?
Do you think all the
parents are idiots?
This is far more than fiction
or something you can find
hundreds of times on the
internet.
The really big mysteries always
remain in the background, okay?
They deliberately
don't talk about it
and anyone who gets even a
little bit close to the case is
fucked!
I chose you to take
charge for a reason.
Somewhere deep down I
knew this would happen.
I can count on one hand the
number of times she's listened
to me.
She was seven when
I adopted her.
Her father abandoned
her when she was born.
And then was
found dead in a ditch with a
needle in his hand not long
after.
I know Claire has been to the
other side before, when she was
a little child.
Her mother made her go to every
camp she could, just so she
wouldn't be home.
This way proved to be the most
effective one for me to get to
the
bottom of all of this.
The doctors said she
had about a year to live.
With successful treatment, it
could probably have been pushed
up to three years.
What those children know can
fundamentally change everything
we humans know or are even
capable of comprehending.
Keep researching and keep the
authorities and any overzealous
parents or hacks away from the
camp.
Find her.
If you can track her down,
you'll find the children too.
Sir, I think...
Do I look like someone
who cares what you think?
It's an order.
Sweep the area around the camp.
If you've done that,
sweep the woods.
And then the whole
goddamn state.
I'll be there
tomorrow.
I think St. Beatrice
is a gateway to those secrets.
Decades have passed.
It would be foolish to think
that those children always
remain
children.
And God have mercy on us if they
all decide to turn against us
one day.