Scenario:write me horror terrify screenplay script about online scammers and victimes, need some nervous plots
Create my version of this story
write me horror terrify screenplay script about online scammers and victimes, need some nervous plots
I was scammed by a group of online con artists.
They stole my money, my identity, and my reputation.
But that wasn’t enough for them.
They also tried to take my life.
Now I’m going to take theirs.
I was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at my laptop screen, when I heard the front door open.
My brother Mark was home from work.
He walked into the kitchen and dropped his keys on the counter with a loud clatter.
"Hey," he said, giving me a quick nod as he headed for the fridge.
"Hey," I replied absently, not taking my eyes off the screen.
"What are you doing?"
Mark asked as he pulled out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap.
"Working on something for school?"
I was a mess.
The last few weeks had been the worst of my life.
I’d been scammed by a group of online con artists who’d not only stolen my money and identity, but also tried to kill me.
They’d taken everything from me: my dignity, my friends, my future.
After falling for their lies and giving them thousands of dollars, I’d been manipulated into sending them pictures and videos of myself in compromising positions.
And when I tried to cut ties with them, they’d threatened to release the edited videos they’d made, along with doctored screenshots of our conversations that made it look like I was in a romantic relationship with one of them.
If those videos and messages went public, it would destroy me.
I would never be able to show my face in public again.
But they couldn’t be real.
It was impossible to fake that kind of thing, right?
I still wasn’t sure if the scammer’s threats were real or just another way to scare me, but I couldn’t take the chance.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that they were stealing from me, they were also trying to blackmail me.
I was out of options, and out of time.
I couldn’t let it go on any longer, and I couldn’t let them get away with what they’d done to me.
That’s why I’d spent my last few hundred dollars on a private investigator who could help me find the people behind this scam.
I had no idea if it would work, or if it would even be enough to stop them, but I had to try.
I couldn’t die without getting justice for what they’d done to me.
They didn’t just steal money from people, or hack their social media accounts for fun; they destroyed lives and preyed on people’s emotions for their own gain.
They promised love and friendship, and then used that trust to manipulate their victims into doing things they never would have otherwise.
And now they wanted my life.
The wind whipped through my hair as I stood on the edge of the bridge, looking down at the icy waters below.
The weight of my actions settled into my bones, making it hard to breathe.
It felt like I was drowning before I even hit the water.
I wasn’t sure if the water was deep enough for me to die on impact, but I didn’t care.
All I wanted was for it to be over—to end the pain and shame and humiliation once and for all.
I’d been scammed by a group of online con artists who’d not only stolen my money and identity, but also tried to kill me.
They’d taken everything from me: my dignity, my friends, my future.
All I wanted was for it to be over—to end the pain and shame and humiliation once and for all.
Emily
I scrolled through the website on my laptop, rereading the information that I’d already bookmarked and saved a dozen times in multiple folders.
The website had been instrumental in helping me uncover the identities of these criminals who had scammed me a few months ago.
They had stolen a large sum of money from me, manipulated videos, made it look like I was in a relationship with someone I didn’t even know existed, and then proceeded to demand more money from me in order not to release those videos online.
I was just about to print out the information when I heard Mark’s footsteps approaching my room.
Quickly closing the webpage, I turned to face him as he entered my room.
"Hey," he said, his gaze flickering over my laptop screen as his brow furrowed in question.
"Are you working on schoolwork?"
It wasn’t a strange assumption for him to make.
I always worked on schoolwork, even during the summer.
He had no reason to believe that I was doing anything different.
But this time, I wanted him to know what I was doing—what had happened.
I’d kept it from him long enough.
"Actually, it’s not schoolwork," I said, and his gaze returned to mine.
"It’s…"
I took a deep breath, knowing that once I told him, there was no turning back.
"I wanted to show you something."
His expression softened as he moved closer and sat down on the edge of my unmade bed.
"What is it?"
He glanced at the screen again, his eyes scanning over the page.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure as I forced myself to speak the words out loud for the first time.
I’d been terrified of telling anyone else, but I knew it was time.