Ace of Hearts

Film Majors

The dusty room smelled of old film reels and forgotten stories. A group of film studies majors gathered in the basement of their university, a place most students avoided. They were on a quest for knowledge, or maybe just a break from the mundane. When they stumbled upon a hidden door, curiosity pulled them in. The door creaked open, revealing shelves stacked with films. They felt a rush. They had found something special.

With excitement bubbling, they started to examine the reels. Each film was labeled with dates, some decades old. But what caught their attention was the content. The scenes were unsettlingly familiar. They showed events that had not happened yet. A protest in the city square. A natural disaster. A political scandal. They couldn't believe their eyes. How could these films predict the future with such precision? They were just students, not seers. Yet here they were, peering into what seemed like a crystal ball.

As they watched, a sense of dread settled over them. The films weren't just predictions; they were warnings. The protest escalated into violence. The disaster devastated the town. The scandal brought down a beloved leader. Each moment unfolded like a grim prophecy. They felt trapped between fascination and fear. 

They debated late into the night. One thought they should report it. Share the films with the authorities. Another argued that no one would believe them. "They'll think we're crazy," she said. The third suggested they create their own film, a documentary to expose the truth. But then, what if their own futures were at risk? What if the films showed the danger of their actions? They were caught in a cycle of uncertainty, each thought leading to more questions.

The weight of their discovery pressed down on them. They were just students, yet they held something powerful. The films felt like a burden. They couldn't ignore what they had seen. But they also feared the repercussions. They decided to keep the films hidden, to study them quietly, to see if the events occurred as foretold. But as days turned into weeks, the tension grew. They watched the news. Each report felt like a countdown.

 Would the films come true?

Then, it happened. The protest sparked in the city, just as the film had shown. The news was frantic. It was too close for comfort. They knew they had to act. They couldn't let history repeat itself. They gathered one last time. "We need to warn people," one said. "We can't let this happen." They resolved to make their own film, to document their findings, to share the truth. They would not be silent. In that moment, a sense of purpose emerged. They were not just students anymore. They were part of a larger story. A story that needed to be told.