The Patterson File
Season 1, Episode 7 of the MPF Files
Title: The MPF Files
Season 1: Calamity Gulch
Entry #007: The Patterson File
Ellie Vance, Personal Log. November 4th. Afternoon.
Hope is a dangerous thing in a place like this.
After Matilda’s confession, we felt… adrift. Lost in a story with no map. Then Kevin found it, buried under fifteen years of digital dust: a forum post by a man named Frank Patterson. His warning about "The Hunger of Calamity Gulch" was the first outside confirmation that we aren't losing our minds. We found a contact number. An old landline registered to a remote property in the Colorado Rockies.
The mood in the boarding house has shifted. We have a lifeline. But looking at the grainy photo on the forum—a picture of Frank from years ago, his eyes already holding a shadow of what was to come—I feel a new kind of dread. We're not just calling an expert for advice. We're calling a survivor to ask him about his scars.
The sky is turning grey. The forecast says the first real snow of the season is on its way.
AUDIO-VISUAL LOG: CG-AV-008
TRANSCRIPT
[SCENE START]
INT. BOARDING HOUSE - AFTERNOON
The team is huddled around a satellite phone on the dusty table. It feels like a holy relic. Kevin finishes dialling the number. He puts it on speaker.
(The phone rings. Once. Twice. A third time. Then, a click.)
FRANK PATTERSON (O.S.)
(A gravelly, suspicious rasp)
...Yeah?
KEVIN
Uh, hello? Is this Mr. Frank Patterson?
FRANK PATTERSON (O.S.)
Who's asking?
ELLIE
Mr. Patterson, my name is Ellie Vance. We're paranormal researchers. We found an old forum post of yours. About a place called Calamity Gulch.
(A long, heavy silence on the line, filled only with static.)
FRANK PATTERSON (O.S.)
(His voice drops to a harsh, terrified whisper)
You're not there. Don't you tell me you're there.
[INTERCUT BETWEEN: BOARDING HOUSE / FRANK'S CABIN]
INT. FRANK'S CABIN - DAY
FRANK PATTERSON, a man in his late 60s with haunted eyes and a wild mane of white hair, clutches an old black telephone receiver. He stares out the window at the gently falling snow, his knuckles white.
CHAD
We are, Mr. Patterson. We've encountered... something. We need to know what you saw.
FRANK PATTERSON
You saw nothing. You heard it. Didn't you? The Deep Noise. The... Hunger.
(The team in the boarding house exchanges a stunned look.)
ELLIE
Yes. And we saw its guardian. The Predator.
(Frank lets out a dry, rattling sob. A sound of pure despair.)
FRANK PATTERSON
Then you're already dead. It knows you're there. It's just... playing with its food. We were like you. Cocky. We had all the best gear. We thought we could measure it, contain it. But The Hunger... it doesn't feed on energy. It feeds on souls. The ghosts hide from it. They're not haunting the town; they're hiding in it.
KEVIN
Your team... what happened to them? The post was vague.
FRANK PATTERSON
(He closes his eyes, reliving it)
Sarah... she was our sensitive. Like your Ellie, I'll bet. It got inside her head. Showed her things. It didn't just scare her; it hollowed her out from the inside. She's been in a catatonic state for fifteen years.
And Mike... our tech guy. It just... took him. One minute he was running diagnostics, the next he just stood up, dropped his headphones, and walked out into the dark towards the mine. Never screamed. Never even looked back. We never found him.
(Kevin visibly pales, looking down at his own equipment.)
ELLIE
There has to be a way to fight it. A weakness.
FRANK PATTERSON
The only weakness is not to be there! You get out! You get out now, before the snow traps you in that valley!
ELLIE
We can't leave them! The spirits here... they asked for our help.
(Frank is silent for a moment. He seems to be wrestling with a long-buried memory.)
FRANK PATTERSON
(His voice urgent, hushed)
There was... one thing. A journal. Half-burnt. Belonged to a crazy old hermit who lived there before the boom. He called it "the silver bane." Said The Hunger was repelled by the raw ore. Something about its frequency... a "pure song of the earth" that hurt it. I thought he was mad. I never told anyone.
CHAD
The silver bane... the ore. Frank, where's the journal?
FRANK PATTERSON
I don't have it! I left everything! Listen to me... it knows you're talking about it. It can hear...
(He stops abruptly. His eyes dart around his own cabin as if seeing a new shadow in the corner.)
FRANK PATTERSON
Oh God. It remembers me.
(The line goes dead with a loud CLICK.)
(Kevin tries to redial. The call won't connect. The team sits in stunned silence in the boarding house as the first flakes of snow begin to drift past the window outside.)
[END OF TRANSCRIPT]
