About Prompt
- Prompt Type – Scene-by-Scene
- Prompt Platform – Google Veo
- Language – English
- Category – Video/Story
- Prompt Title – VEO 3 Prompt for Action Short Film – Highway Inferno
Prompt Details
🎬 Scene 1
The interior of a sleek, black Audi RS7 is a cocoon of controlled tension, hurtling down the M4 motorway just outside London. The late afternoon sun, a brilliant, molten gold, floods the cabin, casting long, sharp shadows that dance across the dashboard and the focused faces of the two occupants. Every surface gleams with a sterile, professional polish—the brushed aluminum trim, the carbon fiber inlays, the supple black leather of the seats. Through the pristine windscreen, the endless ribbon of asphalt unfolds, flanked by the lush, green verges of the English countryside. The world outside is a blur of motion, a kinetic painting of speeding cars and distant, rolling hills under a vast, cerulean sky streaked with wisps of cirrus clouds. Inside, the atmosphere is thick with unspoken urgency. The air conditioning hums a low, almost subliminal drone, a stark contrast to the thrumming power of the V8 engine, a beast held on a tight leash. Reflections of passing lorries and road signs ripple across the driver’s sunglasses like fleeting memories. The digital display glows with cool, blue light, showing their steady speed. A single, heavily reinforced briefcase sits on the back seat, its metallic clasps catching the sunlight with a cold, unforgiving glint. It is the silent, heavy heart of their mission, a palpable presence that charges the air with immense pressure. The scent of new leather and a faint, metallic tang of ozone from the car’s electronics permeates the space, creating an environment that is both luxurious and unnervingly sterile. This is not a leisurely drive; it is a high-stakes transit, a moment of deceptive calm before an inevitable storm, and the tension is as tangible as the seatbelts cinched tightly across their chests.
🎵 Tone: Tense Foreboding
🎬 Scene 4
The claustrophobic confines of the inverted Audi are now a death trap. Flames from the nearby tanker lick hungrily at the car’s chassis, and the heat is becoming unbearable, warping the air and making the interior shimmer. Smoke, thick and oily, seeps in through the buckled door frames, stinging their eyes and catching in their throats. Kael, with a grunt of pain, drops from his seat onto the car’s ceiling, landing with a soft thud on a carpet of shattered glass. He ignores the trickle of blood from the fresh cut on his forehead and immediately moves with practiced efficiency. He kicks hard at his jammed driver’s side door, but it won’t budge. Without hesitation, he draws a concealed SIG Sauer P226 from a shoulder holster and uses the butt of the weapon to smash the remaining glass from the side window. The sudden influx of intense heat and the roar of the fire is staggering. He scrambles out through the narrow opening, his movements a blur of controlled urgency. He emerges into a hellscape. The M4 is a warzone, littered with the burning husks of cars. The air is thick with black smoke and the stench of burnt fuel and rubber. Ignoring the chaos around him, he wrenches open Anya’s passenger door, which groans in protest. He reaches in, unclips her seatbelt, and carefully guides her out of the wreckage as she coughs, disoriented from the smoke. He pulls her to her feet, his hand firmly on her arm, steadying her. For a fleeting second, they stand amidst the inferno, a stark silhouette against the towering wall of fire, the world around them a canvas of destruction and flickering, malevolent light. Their professional attire is now torn and dirt-stained, a stark contrast to the pristine condition of moments ago.
🎵 Tone: Desperate Survival
🎬 Scene 8
The highway is a hellscape of fire, smoke, and shattered metal. In the fiery chaos, Kael finally gains the upper hand. Using a piece of twisted wreckage as a fulcrum, he leverages the Mercenary off-balance and sends him crashing through the weakened guardrail, plummeting to the embankment below. Kael doesn’t wait to confirm the kill; there’s no time. He stumbles back, ribs aching, breathing heavily, and turns to Anya. She’s already on her feet, clutching the briefcase, her face a mask of grime and gritty determination. Sirens are now screaming, growing terrifyingly close, their blue and red lights beginning to slice through the thick, choking smoke. They are out of time. Kael grabs Anya’s arm, his grip firm. “This way!” he yells, his voice a raw command over the cacophony. They don’t run towards the sirens, but away from them, deeper into the smoke that blankets the opposite side of the motorway. They move as one, a pair of battered but unbroken figures, Kael limping slightly, Anya protecting the package as if it were a part of her. They are swallowed by the dense, grey-black curtain of smoke, their silhouettes visible for a fleeting moment against the raging fires before they vanish completely. The camera holds on the spot where they disappeared, the empty space in the swirling smoke. The only evidence they were ever there is the carnage left behind—the burning cars, the abandoned weapons, and the approaching wail of authorities arriving too late. The mission is complete, but their ordeal is far from over. They have escaped the inferno, but they are now fugitives, melting back into the shadows from which they came.
🎵 Tone: Tense, Ambiguous Escape