Five college friends spend one last night at an abandoned war fortress before senior year ends. What starts as drinks around a fire becomes something none of them can explain.

Their names are already graffiti'd on the fortress walls. They don't notice. They take photos, unknowing that they're in them, sealing a fate that was written there long before they arrived.

When Shelby vanishes that same night, Blaire knows something is wrong. But convincing the others means revealing what she's been hiding: that she and Shelby are together, a secret she's been protecting at Shelby's insistence. As the group starts to fracture under suspicion and grief, Blaire realizes someone else could be next.

The curse doesn't announce itself. It doesn't need to. It already knows your name.

Shelby lives in the tradition of ensemble supernatural horror, the kind where the threat moves through a group and the audience watches helplessly as the circle closes. Think the countdown dread of Final Destination crossed with the transferable curse logic of It Follows and Smile, with the sun-soaked menace of I Know What You Did Last Summer, the curse-across-generations pull of a deeply, unapologetically queer Fear Street, whose entire curse traces back to a woman burned for loving another woman, and the group-under-siege paranoia of Scream running underneath. The fortress setting gives it a texture of its own: cold stone, narrow corridors, and the particular unease of a place that was built to contain things.

I've always been drawn to horror as a place where the things we can't say out loud get to exist in full.

Shelby started with something personal. I've been in a relationship I had to keep hidden, where being seen as who I truly was, and who I loved, wasn't safe. I know what it costs to edit yourself in real time, to love someone in private because loving them in public isn't an option yet. That cost doesn't disappear just because the world feels more accepting than it used to. I wanted to put that feeling somewhere it could actually be looked at, filtered through a genre that's always known how to make dread feel real, in a film that works as a fun, propulsive ensemble horror watch for everyone, while carrying something real underneath for those who recognize it.

What I love most about the curse mechanic in Shelby is that it operates on dramatic irony. The names were always on that wall. The characters just didn't see them. There's something deeply human about that. We move through the world surrounded by the things that will undo us, completely unaware, until suddenly we're not.

Shelby is inspired by Fort Wetherill in Jamestown, Rhode Island, a place built to be seen from the outside while hiding everything within its walls. The fortress becomes the film's central metaphor without the film ever having to explain it.

It's built for horror fans who want their scares to mean something, and anyone who has ever watched a friend group unravel and felt it in their chest. Underneath the curse is a deeply human story about a secret relationship, visibility, and the cost of staying hidden, one that will resonate with queer audiences while never asking anyone else to opt out. The curse is universal. The story underneath it is personal.

Shelby is the most personal thing I've made. It is also, I hope, a genuinely scary and exciting time at the movies. Those two things don't have to be in conflict, and this film is my proof of that.

Isabella Tarsitano (she/her) is a 22-year-old writer-director who graduated from Penn State with a degree in film and moved straight to LA to chase this. She's PAing and interning by day, developing Shelby by night, all while showing up daily for the 600K mostly queer followers who've built a home with her on TikTok. She made various shorts throughout college, two of which, Sodie (the project Shelby grew out of) and Twig, were selected for the Centre Film Festival and the Blue and White Film Festival.

This budget is tight and intentional. Every dollar has a job.

Pledging to Shelby means investing in visibility for WLW stories in a world where they're still deeply misrepresented.

Your pledge covers what actually gets this made: the location, fair pay for our cast and crew, and the equipment to shoot it right.

If we exceed our $11,000 goal, additional funds will go toward more festival submissions, stronger post-production value, better graphics work, and bringing on a production designer to add more depth to our set.

Following production, Shelby will be submitted to Sundance, Tribeca, Screamfest, Brooklyn Horror Film Festival, Fantasia, Nightstream, and Panic Fest. These festivals represent the best of both prestige and genre exhibition, and Shelby is built for both rooms.

Shelby is also the first step in a bigger journey. This short is a proof of concept for a feature-length film, and this campaign is where that story begins. Every dollar over goal moves us closer to reaching more viewers with this queer story, and closer to Shelby becoming a feature.

PLEDGE. Every contribution, no matter the size, gets us closer to making this film. No pledge is too small.

SHARE & FOLLOW. Hit follow on this page and share it with anyone who'd love a good queer horror short. It costs nothing and it genuinely helps.

FOLLOW ALONG. I'm posting updates as we move toward production, find me on Instagram @Isabella.tarsitano and TikTok @lesbibella.

Share the love, copy and paste:

I'm so excited to support @isabella.tarsitano, writer-director of Shelby, a queer horror short about a curse that already knows your name. Support now on @seedandspark: https://seedandspark.com/fund/shelby

I just pledged to Shelby, a WLW horror short from @Isabella.tarsitano with real teeth. Please consider supporting and sharing: https://seedandspark.com/fund/shelby

Five friends. One curse. A secret they can't afford to keep. Support @Isabella.tarsitano in bringing Shelby to the screen: https://seedandspark.com/fund/shelby

Special Thanks

If you've made it this far, thank you, genuinely. As a young filmmaker, knowing that people believe in a vision like this means more than I can put into words. Film has been my whole world for as long as I can remember, and Shelby is one of the most personal things I've ever made. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life telling stories, and I'm so grateful you might be a part of this first one. Whether you contribute or simply share the campaign, thank you for being here.