silent tendrils

Title Card: "Hush, should they be heard..."
Panel of moonlit mist curls above, covering forlorn and wilting statues. Off to the left, a string of lantern dimly swings and flickers.

Intertitle Cue: "A whisper in the crypt..."
fade in on monument on which spiders festoon webs "Do you also hear them beneath the planks? Those we once laughed alongside."

Transition Scene: Shadows hide lies...
Focus on lips pressing together—we find not words, simply the echo. Drip x drop: the clock strikes without sound, reverberations swallowed whole.

# Yemen murmurs echo. Scotland truth lays interred.

Climactic Frame: "The enigma sleeps..."
The insidious become shadows themselves, beneath your watch.

Inquiring, if curious, forward with silence: to the deep valley.