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Bellwethers © 2025 by Stéfano Castellanos is licensed under
CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. To view a copy of this license, visit
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BELLWETHERS EP 4
(Impenitent Scripts - The Koppang
Mysteries)

1. COLD OPEN – EXT. RENDELEN – LATE WINTER – 1705
A crowd gathers in a frozen clearing. Snow falls silently. It
does not melt where it lands.
At the center stands a stake, soaked in pitch. Bound to it:
, 39, wild-eyed but proud. Her linen shift
SIGNE ARNESDATTER
is torn, her hair damp with snow and spit.
From the crowd, a veiled woman emerges — older, hands
trembling but eyes defiant. She moves to the base of the
stake.
This is (49), her sister. She slips a coarse rope
ANGRBODA
around Signe’s neck, hanging from it an iron bellwether. The
bell jingles once — sharp, metallic.

ANGRBODA (WHISPERING)
Let them jeer.
It keeps you here.
2026 knots braided to your soul.
Sleep here, my sister, beneath the
ash. Return! and together we shall
find our fourth.
The bell is a bellwether — a shepherd’s bell, charmed and
cursed. Meant for mockery, forged for memory. Those who know,
hear it long after.
The PRIEST raises his Bible. Townsfolk murmur: "Witch."
2.
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A torch is lit.
(CALLING OUT)
SIGNE
I loved a woman once. That was my sin.
But you — you love blood.
The torch touches the pyre.
Flames rise.
Signe does not scream. Only the bell rings. Once. Then again.

2. INT. ESTEBAN’S LIVING ROOM – EARLY MORNING LIGHT – PRESENT

DAY
ESTEBAN ELIAS HARTFORD BELTRAN (57) lies motionless on the
floor, pale, lips slightly parted. A faint streak of blood
seeps from the crotch of his pants.
His dogs stand guard:
MELCOCHA and TROCO flank Esteban protectively.
BRUNA stands at the top of the stairs, still as stone.
SKARA emerges silently from the foyer, circling behind LIV,
who stands just inside the threshold.
Liv doesn't speak. She doesn’t have to.
Her hands twitch. Her breath comes in short, shallow bursts.
She looks down — her skin ripples, like something beneath it
wants out.
Her eyes lock on the blood.
She takes one step forward.
MELCOCHA snarls. TROCO bares his teeth, watches her trembling
frame, then turns to the desk and lifts his leg, peeing
slowly on one of its legs.

LIV (HISSING)
You beast!
SKARA moves closer. BRUNA doesn’t move — just watches.
Liv panics. Her eyes dart toward the fireplace poker. Lights
flicker. BRUNA leaps down the stairs.
3.
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Liv extends her arm, hand wide open. She raises it — the pole
flies across the room with a snap of invisible force. SKARA
prepares to jump her.
The front door swings open. Skara rethinks her tactic.
NICK rushes in, arms full of books and papers. The poker
drops midair, slamming into the floor halfway between Liv and
Esteban.
(INSTANTLY SWITCHING TONE)
LIV
Oh Nick. Good you’re here. Esteban’s
in need of help. These dogs won’t let
me pass. Put them outside. I can help.
Nick freezes at the sight — Esteban bleeding, the dogs tense,
the poker on the floor.

NICK
What the hell happened here?
He pushes past her, ignoring the dogs, the weapon, the chaos.
The dogs don't move toward Nick. TROCO pees again, eyes never
leaving Liv.
She tries to hide her discomfort. Looks at her hands — they
ripple again.
(FOCUSED)
NICK
There is a pulse. Hand me my bag. We
need to call for help.
Nick turns toward her —
Liv is gone.

3. EXT. PRIVATE PROPERTY – CONTINUOUS
LIV runs full-speed across a snow-dusted garden.
A MAN tying his rose bushes watches in silent confusion as
she vanishes into the woods beyond.

4. INT. ESTEBAN’S HOUSE – MOMENTS LATER
(URGENT)
NICK
Esteban? Esteban, can you hear me?
Nick removes his jacket and folds it under Esteban’s head.
SKARA and BRUNA quietly exit through the door, taking up
position outside like sentries.
4.
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Nick rummages through his bag, finds his phone, and dials.

NICK
I need an ambulance.
(He listens)

NICK
Nick Nygård. It is my friend Esteban
Hartford. He seems to be bleeding from
his crotch.
(He listens)

NICK
Thanks.
Nick rushes back to Esteban, crouching at his side.

NICK
Hang in there pal. They're on their
way.

5. EXT. WOODS – SHORTLY AFTER
one arm
LIV’S naked body lies face down in the leaves —
twisted beneath her, caught mid-spasm. Her skin is pale —
unnaturally intact.
The forest holds its breath.
Then — a wet, gurgling eruption.
From between her legs, a thick blast of ash-laced smoke
bursts outward.
The leaves around her rustle, then scatter — blown wide by a
sudden shockwave.
Something ancient, expelled.
The ground shudders.
Birds scatter. A deer bolts.
Even a wolf vanishes into shadow.

The smoke coils — not dissipating, but forming.
A shape emerges.
Humanlike. Faceless. Shrouded in rags.
It — gray, flickering.
hovers above Liv’s feet

The witch has left the borrowed body.
5.
Created using Celtx
She lingers. Still.
Then turns — and walks silently into the forest.
Where she passes,
flowers wilt. Leaves blacken.
As if scorched by something colder than fire.

Silence returns.
Heavier now.
-
6. INT. ELVERUM HOSPITAL TWO DAYS LATER
sits on the edge of his bed, dressed and waiting.
ESTEBAN
, 50s, brisk but polite, stands with a clipboard in
DOCTOR TUV
hand.

DOCTOR TUV
We’ve run every test twice. Nothing
abnormal — no infection, no trauma, no
internal bleeding.
(beat)
I don’t see why we should keep you
here.
He offers a faint smile.

DOCTOR TUV (CONT’D)
You're good to go.
nods, slow, unsure.
ESTEBAN

ESTEBAN
That’s… good. Thank you.
The doctor hands him a release form and leaves.
Esteban exhales — something between relief and dread. His
phone peeps he looks at the message.

7. EXT. OUTSIDE ELVERUM HOSPITAL – DAY
steps out through the automatic doors,
ESTEBAN HARTFORD
carrying a small backpack.
waits outside, hands in pockets. Nick steps
NICK NYGÅRD
forward and takes the bag from Esteban.
6.
Created using Celtx

NICK NYGÅRD
I'm sorry. I didn't want to go in.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
No worries. I got your message in time
- before the nurse ordered me a taxi.
(GRINNING)
NICK NYGÅRD
You’re walking upright. That’s
progress.

ESTEBAN
Thanks for coming.
(beat)
I hate hospitals.

NICK NYGÅRD
The blue jeep.
Esteban follows his gaze — .
a blue Jeep Gladiator
He pauses, eyes the high step.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
If I tear something open climbing into
that thing—

NICK NYGÅRD
I thought virgins only bled once.
Esteban climbs in. The comment lands a little off.

NICK NYGÅRD
Too soon? Seat belt too tight?

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Is that another innuendo?

NICK NYGÅRD
…It came too soon?
Esteban doesn’t answer. A small smile escapes him. Nick
doesn’t notice — he’s already pulling onto the road.

NICK (CONT’D)
Hey. I didn’t want to tell you until
we got home, but—
7.
Created using Celtx

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
They found Liv.
Nick glances over.

NICK NYGÅRD
How do you know?

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
News.

NICK NYGÅRD
Yeah. Police asked me if I was sure it
was her I saw.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
When?

NICK NYGÅRD
She was at your house when I got
there. Some neighbor saw her run
through his yard that same morning.
But the coroner says she died
four

days ago.
Esteban stares straight ahead.

NICK (CONT’D)
So either we saw her ghost... or
someone is messing with time.
(beat)

NICK
Oh — and Troco? Still pissing on that
desk leg. Relentless little freak. He
finally stopped this morning.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Why did you come by the house?

NICK NYGÅRD
The desk. 1759. Your tattoo. You’re
related to the family. Six
Fuglesand
generations back —
Lars Eliassen
. Your full name is
Fuglesand Esteban
, right?
Elias Hartford Beltrán

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Correct.
8.
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NICK NYGÅRD
Did you know?

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
No.

8. EXT. HIGHWAY – CONTINUOUS
The drives through the vast forested
blue Jeep Gladiator
stretch outside Elverum. The gorgeous river. The road curves
along low ridges, ancient and quiet. We
don’t see them inside
, just — carried

distant, intimate,
the Jeep
hear their voices
over the sound of tires and traffic.

ESTEBAN (V.O.)
Hold on… did you stay at my house?

NICK (V.O.)
Sure. Someone had to watch the dogs.
Clean up Troco’s holy piss. Drink your
good wine. Don't worry. I didn't touch
the wooden cases. (beat) Much.
The Jeep disappears into the forest road, swallowed by trees.

9. INT. ESTEBAN’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Warm, low light. The like an old
desk looms in the corner
witness.
snores softly nearby, curled against the wall.
Melcocha
, freshly showered, in sweatpants and a hoodie, pours
ESTEBAN
at the kitchen table.
tea
He also pours himself a proper .
glass of cognac

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Tea for you.

NICK NYGÅRD
Thanks.
On the table: , tracing back to
Esteban’s family tree Elias
, born 1700 in Evenstad. Several are stacked
Pålsson folders
beside it.

NICK NYGÅRD
So you’re Beltrán… but your mother was
Acosta?
sips his cognac — slow, deliberate, letting it soak
ESTEBAN
his palate.
9.
Created using Celtx

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
It opened doors for her. Beltrán was
only on records. Legal papers.
steps in, in , her hair down. No
INGRID civilian clothes
badge, no armor — just focus.

OFFICER INGRID
Hope I’m not too late. We let myself
in.
, her wife, follows right behind — calm, observant.
VIRNA KEYS

VIRNA KEYS
Hey, Esteban. How you feeling?

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
The cognac is helping. Want one?

VIRNA KEYS
I'd love one.
pulls a from her bag and sets it up on the
VIRNA portable PC
table.
Esteban hands Virna a cognac.

VIRNA KEYS
Thanks.
opens the files in her computer. and lean
INGRID Nick Esteban
in over her shoulder as the first document appears onscreen —
, scanned pages, clinical notes.
aged text

INGRID
I dug deeper.
There’s a case — 1758, Innlandet,
Koppang region.
A man accused of sodomy.
Never gave up the name of his lover.
They suspect it was the farmer's
daughter. They burned his nipples with
rods. Blinded him with lye.
Died from internal injuries.

NICK NYGÅRD
Internal injuries?

VIRNA KEYS
They shoved a red-hot rod up his
rectum. All of this took place in a
10.
Created using Celtx
farm near Cowbell Ridge.
Esteban doesn’t flinch.
(SOFTLY)
INGRID
We compared the injuries to
Oleg’s

autopsy.

VIRNA KEYS
They match. Position. Tools. Even the
burned tissue inside.
(gently)
I’m sorry, Esteban.
Silence.

NICK NYGÅRD
Who else has checked out these files?

INGRID
That is it. No one has.

VIRNA KEYS
May I?

INGRID
Go ahead. You're the new forensic.

VIRNA KEYS
I think… something is echoing. There’s
another case —Man found on a farm.
Accused of adultery. Beaten to death
and dumped in a pit. Covered with
manure.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
The same pit?

VIRNA KEYS
Not exactly. But the same land.
Pete’s
His family’s owned that land
property.
since 1760.

NICK NYGÅRD
All this is interesting but old deaths
can't be part of new deaths. I mean
how does it link in an investigation?
11.
Created using Celtx

INGRID
Right.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Every case points to one thing:
Something wants these deaths
remembered. But they’re not history.
They’re happening again.
(beat)
What about ?
Liv

VIRNA KEYS
We have another witness who saw her
rolling naked on pile of ants. But
autopsy shows she died ago.
four days
(beat)
(CONT’D)
VIRNA
We found vaginal tearing.
From the .
inside out
As if something… crawled out of her.
With force.
The room goes still.
rises, slow and alert.
TROCO
He walks to the old desk, sniffs, circles once —
— and lifts his leg, pisses on the same front left leg.
No one speaks.

10. EXT. PRISON COURTYARD – MORNING
The cold morning air hangs thick. First of June — people hope
for summer, but here, it’s still spring’s shadow.
A prison van idles just outside the main gate. A GUARD
escorts (70) — lean, sharp-eyed,
SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY
dressed in a simple shirt and jeans. His shackled ankles
clink softly with each step.
He pauses at the open door. He looks inside the van.
A sits, her linen shift torn. Mud streaks her
blonde woman
face, but her cut clear through the grime,
light blue eyes
locked on Sebastian.
She does not move.
12.
Created using Celtx
She only watches.

11. INT. VAN – CONTINUOUS
The second his foot touches metal,
Sebastian's breath
.
catches
He looks from the woman to the GUARD — still and indifferent.

SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY
(to the woman)
What do you want with me?

MALE GUARD

(without turning)
I want you quiet.
Sebastian’s eyes shift back.
She — a flicker of something both and .
smiles coy calculated
Her gaze brushes the guard, then returns to Sebastian.

SIGNE, THE WITCH.
I want the land of the living.
(a beat)
The van groans faintly as it settles on its shocks.

SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY

(softly, without fear)
Welcome.
Inside his skull — a thread is pulled.
flash behind his eyes:
Memories not his own
— a , flame devouring but never silencing.
woman at the stake
— the echo of a , cruel and clear.
bellwether
— the ache of — alien, insistent, .

hers
desire
The witch coils closer.
No contact — but Sebastian feels her breath at his ear.

THE WITCH (V.O.)
Y
ou will want what I want.

And you will burn for it.
13.
Created using Celtx
Sebastian inhales — , .
slow deep
He doesn’t resist.
He does not scream.
She’s inside him now. Not just the van.
He lowers his gaze.
His , just like Liv’s had —
hands ripple
Skin twitching with something .
beneath
Something .
female
And hungry.

12 EXT. FOREST NEAR COWBELL RIDGE – LATE AFTERNOON
A peaceful hush settles over the pine-heavy ridge. The
muffled thrum of a chainsaw slices through the silence.
solidly built with silver hair beneath a
TORVALD BRUN (68),
knit cap, kneels beside a freshly felled birch. He notices a
strange double arrow-shaped marking running through the
grain. Not natural. Not carved. Just... there.
Torvald brushes off bark and sawdust.
Another piece — the same mark. And another. Each one bears
the same angular double arrow.

TORVALD
(quietly)
Well now... what the hell?
He turns back to the stump.
There, across the flat surface — etched deep into the rings —
is a larger symbol: two parallel arrows.
Torvald studies it, intrigued. He starts his chainsaw.

TORVALD (CONT’D)
Maybe I can lift the surface. Take it
to Jan. He’ll know what this is.
He bends down. Suddenly, his body jerks — a full-body spasm.
One arm locks. His knees buckle. He gasps — but can’t call
out.
The earth beneath the stump rumbles.
14.
Created using Celtx
A sinkhole opens — the soil collapses beneath him. A dark
hollow yawns up like a mouth.
Torvald falls forward, chainsaw still buzzing.

WHRRR-CRACK!
The blade slices clean through his jaw and skull as he drops
into the pit.
Blood sprays, coating the sigil-carved stump.
The wood pulses — then drinks. The blood soaks into the
sigil, sucked inward like ink on dry paper.

WIDE SHOT – SILENCE RETURNS.
Torvald is gone.

13. PRISON VISITATION AREA
Esteban walks through the scanning area. A policewoman
directs him to a small visitation room. He sits down. After a
moment, a door opens, and Sebastian walks in.

SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY
I didn't expect to see you so soon.
Esteban glances around; they’re alone.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Pace yourself, you flatulent bitch.

SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck
if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
Esteban opens his shirt to reveal the second emblem marked on
his chest — the parallel arrow under the letter. The binding
mark.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
They're on to us.

SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY
Has he seen it?

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
No.
15.
Created using Celtx

SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY
Get rid of those mutts before they
smell you.

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Wouldn't you like that? You wombless
old bitch. Hear me good. No more
blood.

SEBASTIAN G. TREMBLAY
Did you bring me my mirror?

ESTEBAN HARTFORD
Maybe next time. For now do as I say.
Sebastian eyes carry hate. Esteban leaves.

14. EXT. FOREST NEAR COWBELL RIDGE – DUSK
Stillness.
TORVALD lies twisted in a hollow of dirt and shattered
branches. His jaw hangs broken. His face—split in half from
the chainsaw—stares blankly at the sky.
A thin glows beneath his body — not scattered,
trail of ash
but deliberate, forming a under him.
circle
From above, the echoes faintly.
clang of a bell
A lone wanders near the rim of the hole, a small
sheep
strapped to its neck. It pauses — ears twitching —
bellwether
and peers down.
The stirs. Then—
circle of ash
It rises.
, the ash slithers upward — curling,
Like a serpent of soot
hissing — and enters .
Torvald’s nose
A beat.
His eyes .
snap open
The sheep bleats.

Too late.
Torvald’s hand jerks up — unnaturally fast — and
drags the
into the pit. A muffled crack. A low snarl.
sheep
16.
Created using Celtx
Silence again.
Only , , and the crumpled remain above.
blood gore bell
Then — movement.
TORVALD — or something wearing him — .
emerges
He from the sheep’s corpse and
lifts the bellwether hangs it
. It jingles softly.
around his neck
As he walks, .
his shape shifts
With each step, — bone
Torvald’s hulking frame softens
structure rearranging, sinew tightening.
Flesh peels and smooths.
Tosses it.
He unbuttons his shirt.
By the time he reaches the treeline, .
Torvald is gone
In his place: a , barefoot, radiant, and wrong.
striking woman
The gently at her throat.
bellwether swings
She keeps walking.

Into night.

(END OF PART ONE)
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