Alta

By Sudhansu Thongam

Fredin, a weary detective nearing retirement, finds himself drawn to an unsolved case: a

father murdered by his own son.

He teams up with Liora, a rookie officer. She’s eager, unpolished, and hiding a secret:

every week she dreams of strange murders that echo the very case they’re working on.

The dreams become their compass. Only Fredin knows about them; to the rest of the

force, their leads seem like sheer detective brilliance.

Their partnership grows tight, almost tender, though neither admits it.

Liora’s dreams intensify: shadowy figures, thick coats, blood on gloves, muffled screams.

Each vision leads them closer to hidden evidence.

Fredin, meanwhile, is haunted by holes in his own memory—an accident years ago left

his recollection fractured.

Slowly, details emerge: a botched case in his past where a child was killed during a raid.

Fredin doesn’t remember, but fragments unsettle him.

Liora begins to recognize items—gloves, trinkets—that stir her own memories. She pushes

the thoughts away, terrified of what they mean.

In her last dream, Liora sees the murder scene at last: two killers. Both cloaked, faceless.

One turns. It’s Fredin.

She wakes in tears, gun in hand when she faces him. He doesn’t resist. He smiles softly, as

if he’s been waiting.

Fredin: “You saw me in the dream. That means it’s true.”

She shakes, torn apart. Tears stream as she whispers:

Liora: “I don’t... love you.” (her voice betrays the truth she hides).

He smiles with pain.

Fredin: “You chose the words... I’ll choose the meaning.”

Fredin lowers his head, ready. She fires. He falls with a faint smile.

But then—flashback fragments hit her: the dream she never finished. The other killer

turning. The face beneath the hood... herself.

Years ago: Her sister was trapped with a predator. Liora revealed their hiding spot under

threat. Fredin stormed in, and in the chaos, mistakenly shot the girl—her sister. The

offender escaped.

Fredin’s accident erased his guilt. Liora buried hers.

The truth: both were murderers. Both carried the weight.

His final act—waking her from the dream before she saw her own face—was to spare her

from living with that truth.

ENDING

Rain pours. She collapses beside him, whispering through sobs:

Liora: “Both of us... pulled the trigger.”

Camera pans down: a glove slips from her trembling hand onto the wet ground.

Fredin’s final words echo faintly in her mind:

“You chose the words... I chose the meaning.

Cut to black

By Sudhansu Thongam