Writer, Gamer, Roleplayer and Sugar Addict. I write fantasy, sci-fi and horror for both poetry, songs, stories, games and so on. I am a BA (Hons) Graduate of the University of Derby, my course was Creative Writing. I am a writer and Head of PR for the gaming website Gamersaurs.com covering a variety of games.

Report RSS Lost World Source, Singleplayer Concept: Prologue

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This is the basic storyline script that was created for Lost World Source, by Lost Studios. It appears to have died, so I am releasing the little bits, in the hope that some other studio may take an interest to my writings someday :]



"That'l be 25$"

The young man shuffled in his seat and glanced at the tough wrinkled
face that glared through the metal grate, searching him.

"25, sure, no problem. Could you help me with my bags please?"

The wrinkled beast growled, muttering under his breath, the smell of
cigarettes blowing into the young man's face causing him to cough as
the old man opened the yellow side door, making his way to the back
seat and yanking out the mans luggage.


The old man's face twisted into a snarl as he flung the baggage onto
the side walk, ignoring the passing glances and stares from the people
around them making their way through the iron gateways to the
airports central terminal.

The young man stopped, and stared up at the entrance in silence.

Impatiently, the old man growled once more and shook his fist, his
eyes hungrily roaming up and down the man's Hawaiian shirt, past the
camera that hung loosely, and down to the baggy pants for the wallet
that must lie hidden beneath.

"25$ !"

The young man glanced over at him, confusion on his face. "Pardon?"

"Your fare." The old man shuffled uneasily.

The young man turned to face him, nodding. "Of course, of course."

He reached into his pockets and produced a rather thick looking wallet. The old man's eyes hungrily ate up the forest within as the
young man handed him over a 100$ note.

"I ain't changing this"

"Keep the change. Thanks" The old man's face softened and he moved
over to help the young gentleman pick up his luggage. "Why thank you

kind sir. Say, what exactly was your name?"

"Finch. Finch Wall." The old cab driver smiled and nodded his head as
he watched the young man enter the terminal. "Have a safe flight, Mr

Finch carried his luggage into the terminal, and stopped to glance around at the rushing hustle and bustle of the crowds running to and

"Like ants.." He muttered to himself, watching the steady flow of people through the terminal. He laughed, glancing up at the signposts

"Well. Here I am. Kennedy International. Hawaii here I come!"

Finch made his way through the crowds and towards the front desk,
standing in the queue. He listened to the mass of voices around him and hoped that Hawaii would be much quieter.

'Some well earned rest' He thought to himself as he approached the

"Welcome to American Airlines. How can i help?" The woman behind the counter smiled brightly.

"Hello, I'd like to check in please." He placed his luggage down onto
the floor and handed his tickets over to the lady.

"Of course sir. Flight 187, Terminal 3. If you just go down to your
left and follow the signs, you will find the waiting area and the

check in point." She glanced down at her screen. "Flight 187 leaves in
five minutes. You will need to hurry Sir. Thank you"

She handed him back his tickets and he quickly grabbed his luggage.

"Five minutes?!" He began to run, his legs pounding onto the tiled
floor below as he sped towards the terminal, following the signposts

As he reached the terminal, he entered the waiting area for his
flight, glancing around at the few people sat down, and then up at the
desk ahead.

"Ah, just in time" Finch walked steadily over, panting, and handed in
his tickets to the man at the desk.

"Welcome. Flight 187 has been delayed, if you will just take a seat
and we will announce when the flight is available." The man smiled and
gestured towards the rows of seats in the waiting area.

Finch sat at the end of one of the rows, and glanced around as he
listened to the various conversations around him.

"I cant believe this flight was delayed."
"I know, its ridiculous. The service here is terrible"

"Dad, are we going home soon?"
"Lets go to the cafateria."

"I hate planes. I hate flying. I hate waiting"
"What dont you hate?"

One in particular caught his attention, and he stared over at a rather
rough man, his tye at an odd angle, his clothing looking worn. The man was arguing with the receptionist.

"What? How can the flight have been cancelled. The plane is just there, i can see it out of the windows!" The man waved his arms around
and gestured at the window.

"Im sorry sir, Flight 192 has been cancelled due to a technical
fault." Replied the receptionist, holding up her arms.

"You dont understand, my wife, she's going to leave me. I have to get
over there!" He was becoming agressive, pressing his arms against the
desk and shouting. Conversation in the waiting area lowered as everyone turned to watch.

"Sir, please calm down. There is nothing we can do. The next flight
will be in two hours, you will have a seat on that one. Please, remain
seated." As the woman began shivering nervously, the man yelled
louder, slamming his arms down onto the desk.

"No! I need to get on that plane. I have to get on that plane! She's
going to leave me. I wont let her leave!"

Finch glanced across and watched as the security officer made his way
towards the man, slowly raised his arm, and then placed his hand on
the mans shoulder.

"Sir, please calm down, or i will have to remove you from the ter-"

The resounding crack and bang of a gun echoed throughout the terminal, the security guards eyes widening as blood oozed down his front, his hand reaching for his sidearm, grasping at it, as the man kicked it, the gun sliding across to land infront of Finch.

"NO! You listen to me. I got tickets, see, see, i have them. I want on
my flight, and your going to get me on my flight!" He raised the
pistol, an old fashioned colt, and the receptionists recoiled.

"Sir, please, remain calm...put the gun down...sir..." One of her
hands reached for the silent alarm underneath, and it was pressed.

"No! Get me on my goddamn plane you stupid cow!" Finch gazed out of the window on hearing sirens, the rapid response was incredible, he
could see the S.W.A.T van below and its team entering the terminal
with incredable speed.

The man saw it too, he moved towards the window and then back to the desk.

"You bitch! You stupid bitch! I'll kill you!"

- Alternate 1, waiting-

Finch watched with wide eyes as the man raised the pistol. His eyes
glanced down at the gun below, but he wasn't certain he could get the
shot off before the man hit him first.

"DIE!" The man screamed and shot. The receptionist slumped down against her desk as he turned and fired into the assembled crowd of
people. The terminal erupted into screams as the S.W.A.T team charged through, and a vicious firefight began.

Bullets tore through the terminal window as the man fired the entire
clip from the colt, Managing to take one of the S.W.A.T team down. The remaining members unloaded their MP5's into him, he staggered
backwards, and his gaze met Finchs.

"My...my wife...Wife...My...she, she's...." His gaze swept the room,
his hands clutching his chest, blood streaming down his clothing, and
his gaze landed on Finch.

"She...she's going to...leave me....I....." He fell backwards through
the bullet torn window, crashing down to the floor below.

The S.W.A.T team began checking the passengers, and checking if
everyone was okay.

"Here, you look like you could use a drink. Its only water." One of
the S.W.A.T members nodded his head towards Finch, and handed him a canteen of water. Finch took a swig and nodded his appreciation, handing it back to the man.

The overhead speaker chimed in.

"Flight 187 is now boarding. Please would all passangers make their
way onto the flight coridoor"

Finch got up, walked over to the window and gazed down as a team of Paramedics loaded up the mans body. He shook his head. "Some
vacation...At least it will be quieter in Hawaii" He sighed, and then turned, where the flight attendendant, though pale faced, lead the
uninjured passangers onto the flight.

- Alternate 2, Shooting -

As the man raised his gun towards the receptionist, Finch glanced down at the gun on the floor. His hand moved towards the pistol, and he quickly raised it, it was still loaded, luckily, and he aimed down the
sights at the man, who could'nt see him.

"DIE!" The man screamed and began to pull the trigger. Finch opened
fire, the bullets tearing into the mans body. He screamed and turned
towards Finch.

"You bastard! You shot me, i cant believe you shot me!" The man raised
the gun towards Finch, but several bullets tore into his body from the
side. He screamed and fell to the floor, dropping the gun as the S.W.A.T team entered.


One of them moved up towards Finch as the S.W.A.T team began checking the passengers, and seeing if everyone was okay.

"Here, you look like you could use a drink. Its only water." One of
the S.W.A.T members nodded his head towards Finch, and handed him a canteen of water. Finch took a swig and nodded his appreciation, handing it back to the man.

"You did good there, but i better take that, okay?" Finch nodded as
the man took the pistol from his shaking hands. The passangers sat
around began clapping their hands and cheering, and the receptionist
at the desk moved over and kissed him.

"My Hero" She winked, and then walked back to the desk.

The overhead speaker chimed in.

"Flight 187 is now boarding. Please would all passangers make their
way onto the flight coridoor"

Finch got up, walked over to the window and glanced back at the mans body, which a team of paramedics was now loading onto a stretcher. He shook his head. "Hero. Im certainly not a Hero." He sighed, and then turned, where the flight attendant lead the passangers onto the plane, still cheering and clapping for Finch.

- Alternates end. Now onto plane. -

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