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Barker, Clive
HellRaiser Hell Bound (2000)
For Kirsty Cotton (Ashley Laurence), the nightmares never end. Still fresh in her fevered memory are her father's skinned corpse, the evil machinations of her uncle Frank's reanimated body and the unspeakable perversity of the Cenobites. But the worst is yet to come. From beyond the Outer Darkness, from the darkest regions of the imagination comes Hellbound: Hellraiser II.
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This moviescript available in following formats:
Barker, Clive. HellRaiser Hell Bound
Hellbound: Hellraiser II Script
FADE IN:
1 TITLES
The screen is composed of large, straight-edge areas of black
and white that rest against each other in a manner that suggests
some kind of pattern, without making a final sense; it is as if
we are too close to something that, could we see it from a
distance, would be clear to us.
These areas shift and change - both their own shape and their
relationship to their neighbors. New patterns are being made,
new solutions found - but they are just beyond our comprehension.
The effect should be aesthetically pleasing but simultaneously
frustrating and, perhaps, a little unsettling.
Shortly into this sequence, and subsequently inter-cut
throughout, we begin to see, in FLASHBACK, the story of
HELLRAISER. Arriving first as very short shock-images, these
brief sections eventually convey to the audience all the
necessary emotional and narrative information they will need to
understand the background to HELLBOUND.
Meanwhile, the black and white shapes are still moving, the
unseen patterns still shifting.
Over this constantly mobile background, the TITLES begin to
appear.
As the TITLES unroll, another change comes over the puzzle pieces
behind them. Where before they moved and related only in two
dimensions, gradually we see that they are now claiming depth as
well. The puzzle we are looking at is now a three-dimensional
one. The pieces are now solid blocks of various geometric
shapes, locking together, moving apart, finding their final
position.
Finally, as the TITLES come to their conclusion, the camera pulls
back until we can see clearly what we have been looking at. As
the final piece clicks into positions we see it is THE LAMENT
CONFIGURATION from HELLRAISER.
The closed box rests before our eyes a moment and then the circle
in the centre of the side that faces us gives way to an image
of a dusty street with a market. Simultaneous to this, the camera
TRACKS into this image until it fills the screen
2 EXT A STREET BAZAAR DAY
The TRACK continues up through the market and then turns through
the stalls to find a store behind them. As we TRACK through the
store’s doorway, we pass through a beaded curtain that
momentarily reminds us of the TORTURE ROOM in HELLRAISER.
3 INT. STORE DAY
Once we are in the store itself, though, this impression disappears.
It is an ordinary, slightly seedy, junk shop.
The stall seems to sell an odd mixture of items; native trinkets
share space with second-hand items from European colonists. These
second-hand goods give us some sense of period. They suggest the
late ’twenties/early ’thirties. This is reinforced by the
sounds coming from one of them, an old-fashioned mahogany-cased
wireless. A foreign voice speaks from it in a language we don’t
understand, though perhaps the words "BBC world service" are
discerned in the middle, and then a dance-hall tune of the period
begins to play. (Depending on availability, it would be nice to
have something relevant - ’I’ll follow my Secret Heart’, perhaps,
or ’Dancing in the Dark’.)
Into shot comes an ENGLISH OFFICER. His uniform, too, suggests
the ’twenties, the last days of Empire. He is tall, thin, and
dark-haired, but at no stage do we see his face clearly. He
stands in front of the stall.
The TRADER suddenly stands behind the counter. He has been
crouched beneath it, as if checking or preparing something. He
is a big, impressive-looking black man. His face is totally
impassive as he stares at his customer.
Neither of the men speak. Obviously, a deal has already been
struck and today is the pay-off.
The OFFICER, a little arrogantly - suggesting racist contempt,
slaps down a bag of gold on the stall’s counter.
Keeping his eyes firmly on the OFFICER, he reaches beneath him
and brings something up from under the counter and places it In
the OFFICER’S outstretched hand. He is holding a LAMENT
CONFIGURATION.
The OFFICER turns and leaves. The camera TRACKS out of the store,
looking at the TRADER as he watches the departing OFFICER.
4 INT THE OFFICER’S QUANSETT HUT DAY
It is typical of temporary military quarters, complete with a
curved ceiling of corrugated material. It is stripped of furniture.
The blinds are down.
The OFFICER, still in uniform, sits cross-legged, the BOX held
before him.
He is already well into the solving process and very soon after
the shot begins the BOX begins to speed its own solution.
Finally, two sections of the BOX shoot upwards and begin to peel
apart from each other, ready to reveal its secret.
The OFFICER, suddenly nervous, drops the BOX and scuttles back
across the floor to stare at it. The BOX lands upright, its
extended parts still open above it. For a beat of two, nothing
happens. We become aware of the OFFICER’S pulse, throbbing
excitedly on the soundtrack.
5 INT THE OFFICER’S QUANSETT HUT DAY OFFICER’S P.O.V.
Slowly we, the camera, and the OFFICER, move towards the still,
silent, but menacing BOX.
We approach it until finally we are above it, looking down into
the opening it has made in itself. There is undefined movement
inside.
Suddenly, something flies up directly at us. We glimpse it only
briefly, but enough to see its nature. Unlike the hooks that
flaw at FRANK in HELLRAISER, this is more organic than metallic.
Pink and flesh-like but on a long gray-blue stalk, it
flies upward, its lips peeling apart gapingly to reveal scores of
yellow, discoloured, and viciously sharp teeth-like hooks.
The OFFICER screams and the screen begins to take on a red tint
so that, just as the thing is about to fill the screen
with its hungry mouth, the entire screen turns red.
The red screen is held for a second and then suddenly becomes
complete blackness.
6 INT BLACK SPACE
The black screen continues and, rising slowly from it and falling
back slowly into it, in a dream-like, surrealistic manner, come
various images of the OFFICER’S torment/pleasure in Hell.
By various camera tricks, such as step-printing or optical
blurring, his face is still not clearly seen, but is seen enough
for us to see his sensual, almost orgasmic responses to what is
being done to him.
Cuts appear spontaneously across his face, leaving a grid like
crisscross pattern of wounds.
Finally, a disembodied hand gripping a hammer drives nails into
each corner formed by these wounds and, as the face comes into
full view for the first time, we realize who this is. It is
PINHEAD from HELLRAISER.
PINHEAD’S completed face floats on the blackness and stares out
at us.
PINHEAD
(echoed & slow)
Kirsty, come to daddy
The tiny silence following PINHEAD’s words is shattered by a
piercing and terrified scream.
7 INT HOSPITAL ROOM NIGHT
The scream continues, but the blackness is replaced by KIRSTY’s
anguished face; it is she who is screaming. The scream subsides,
replaced by breathless panting accompanied by rapid eye movement.
RONSON
(off camera)
Ah, you’re awake. Good.
We pull out to see that KIRSTY is sitting up, fully dressed, on a
hospital bed. RONSON, a police detective, sits on a plain wooden
chair, which is the only other piece of furniture in the room.
The walls are bare save for a piece of primitive art on one wall,
and, on another, a circular barred window looking out.
RONSON stands up and walks to the foot of the bed. He rests his
hand on the bed’s metal frame and smiles a perfunctory smile.
RONSON
Tell you what - we’ll make a
deal. I’ll tell you what I
know, then you tell me what
you know. O.K.?
KIRSTY is still re-orienting herself. She blinks a few times
and then focuses on RONSON’s hands gripping the bed.
RONSON
O.K.?
KIRSTY looks up at RONSON’s face and then around at the room.
KIRSTY
Where am I?
RONSON
You’re in the Malahide Institute.
It’s a psychiatric hospital. But, hey,
don’t feel judged - it was just
the nearest place to bring you.
Remember? You and your boyfriend... ?
KIRSTY
Steve...
RONSON
Don’t worry. He’s O.K. We sent him
home hours ago. Jeez, what a story.
He puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it.
RONSON
What was it, kid? Smack? Angel dust?
Don’t tell me acid’s back in fashion?
KIRSTY
What are you talking about? Who
are you?
RONSON
Oh, excuse me...
RONSON reaches in his jacket and flashes an I.D.
RONSON
Ronson. Homicide. I’m this
district’s slash and dash expert.
Made a career of the nasty ones.
That’s why I was at your
Dad’s house. Jesus, what a mess.
KIRSTY’S eyes prick with tears. She looks away from RONSON.
KIRSTY (to herself)
Daddy...
8 INT JUNK ROOM LODOVICO STREET NIGHT
CORTEZ, a POLICE OFFICER, shifts some unpacked crates to
allow a closer look at the shriveled and deformed corpse of one
of FRANK and JULIA’S victims.
CORTEZ
Jesus...
CORTEZ prods at the corpse with his night-stick, attempting
to turn it over. A stream of maggots pours from the mouth and
the cavity that used to be its throat.
CORTEZ jumps back in disgust and knocks against one of the
several wardrobes in the cluttered room. Another corpse flies
out at him, as decayed and flvblown as the first.
CORTEZ draws his gun and empties it blowing the corpses
head off, scattering flesh, mucus, and bone - but no blood -
everywhere before realizing it is already dead.
He realises what he has done and lowers his weapon sheepishly.
CORTEZ
Oh. shit...
9 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM DAY
RONSON is sitting back in the chair, looking at the now slightly
calmer KIRSTY.
RONSON
We got two missing people
and a house full of corpses.
He holds out his hand towards KIRSTY in a theatrical manner.
RONSON
Talk to me.
KIRSTY swings her legs off the bad, but remains sitting on it,
her feet on the floor. She doesn’t look directly at RONSON but
begins to take in the (few) details of the room for the first
time.
KIRSTY
I thought Steve had talked
to you?
RONSON
Oh, pardon me. I obviously didn’t
convey my hesitation to take his
story at face-value. No, YOU
talk to me. But - do me a favor? -
none of this DEMONS crap.
KIRSTY closes her eyes, almost wincing, as memory comes.
KIRSTY opens her eyes. Consciously, she slows the rhythm of the
dialogue down.
KIRSTY
He talked about Demons, huh?
RONSON
Yeah.
KIRSTY turns her head to look directly at RONSON.
KIRSTY
It’s true. All of it. It’s all true.
RONSON stares at her, impressed by her conviction and intensity.
There is a second of shared silence.
Suddenly, a shocking ELECTRONIC CRACKLE shatters the mood. RONSON
starts, then realises it is the radio at his belt. He snatches it
up and speaks into it.
RONSON
Ronson.
10 INT BEDROOM LODOVICO STREET NIGHT
Another OFFICER, KUCICH, is standing, radio in hand, by the
blood-stained mattress. CORTEZ stands beside him, gun now safely
re-holstered.
KUCICH
Kucich here,sir. We just found another one,
though it suffered a little...
KUCICH looks at CORTEZ, who looks embarrassed.
KUCICH
...er, accidental damage in discovery.
Anyway, just about the only portable
evidence we’ve got here - apart from
human remains - is the mattress. Looks
like someone was messed up real bad
on it.
11 INT HOSPITAL ROOM NIGHT
KUCICH
(off-camera)
Can we send it downtown?
RONSON throws KIRSTY a look of exasperation with his colleague.
The camera stays on KIRSTY’s face as RONSON speaks.
RONSON
What the hell are you asking me
for? Tag it. Move it.
KIRSTY (to herself)
The mattress... The mattress... JULIA.
Without waiting for a reply, RONSON switches the radio off and
clips it back to his belt.
12 INT BEDROOM 55 STREET NIGHT
We are looking at the mattress. KUCICH has left the room.
CORTEZ draws a pad from his packet. The pad is stapled, and
the staple has been badly inserted and is not closed property.
In the act of tearing a label from the pad, CORTEZ catches
his thumb on the staple.
OFFICER
Shit!
The label is adhesive-backed. CORTEZ licks it and presses
it on the mattress. He writes on it - 55L/E1. As he stands up
from doing this, a single drop of blood from his thumb lands on
the mattress. (It is important that we see it is only a single
drop - and nothing like the amount LARRY spilled on the
floorboards.)
CORTEZ leaves the room to fetch a colleague to help him
move the mattress. We move in to see the drop of blood disappear
very quickly into the mattress, as if it is being sucked in.
As this happens, we hear on the soundtrack the faintest RUMBLE.
13 INT OPERATING ROOM NIGHT
A somewhat antiquated and frightening operating room, filled
with machines, monitors, and surgical instruments. The corners of
the room fall away to shadow.
Sitting upright in the centre of the room is a FEMALE PATIENT.
She is awake and staring out at the camera. Twin probes/clamps
are in each of her ears to hold her in place. Her head is shaved
and the skin on the back of her head has been cut open and peeled
apart. The flaps of the skin are held away from the area being
worked on by four clamps. (we never actually see round to the
exposed brain itself)
Immediately behind her, and probing with professional skill and
coolness into her exposed brain, is DOCTOR MALAHIDE. He is in
his late forties and looks like all the great doctors look -
rational, civilized, competent, and powerful. There is an
intensity in his eyes and the lines of his face though that
suggests something more than normal.
The room has several attentive listeners and observers, but the
one nearest to MALAHIDE is his personal student/assistant KYLE
MACRAE, young, conventionally good-looking, with an open,
friendly, face.
MALAHIDE is holding forth on the secrets of his trade, several times
looking away from his patient while still working on her, to make
sure his audience understand his points.
MALAHIDE
We can bring them back properly
more often than scientific orthodoxy
dictates, ladies and gentlemen. And
the knife, far from the enemy of
of analysis, is often its greatest
ally in solving the puzzles of
psychosis. Analysis isolates and
massages. Surgery pinpoints and
corrects. ... though you’ve got to
know what you’re doing, of course...
Polite laughter from several students.
MALAHIDE
Some things are obvious. Here,
for example, ...
He prods in at a specific area.
MALAHIDE
...are the optical motor nerve
control centers.
The PATIENT begins to blink in time with MALAHIDE’S prodding.
The affect is half-comical, half-distressing. Perhaps MALAHIDE
carries it on just that half-second too long for innocent
demonstration. But the students give impressed murmurs anyway.
MALAHIDE
Now. This case. A deeply-buried
psychosis severe enough to produce
frighteningly frequent hysteria and
aggression. Incurable. Say others. Not so.
Analysis isolates. The knife
exposes. Medication controls.
As he speaks, MALAHIDE injects a syringe directly into the
PATIENT’s brain. Her face spasms momentarily.
MALAHIDE stands back slightly. His face is serene, calm, and
confident.
He takes a small, motorised drill and sets to work on the brain.
MALAHIDE
And then, ladies and gentlemen, we
REBUILD. With all the care and
knowledge that our years of training
have given us ...
He looks around at them all, smiling slightly.
MALAHIDE
... WE BRING THEM BACK.
The students murmur their approval. Perhaps they even applaud.
MALAHIDE acknowledges their reaction with a modest nod.
Suddenly, an intercom on the wall cuts in.
INTERCOM
Dr. Malahide, the new arrival is
awake, and appears very distressed.
MALAHIDE steps back briskly and begins to peel his cloves off.
He nods at a nearby student.
MALAHIDE
My part in this is over. You
may tidy up for me. Kyle, you
come with me.
MALAHIDE and KYLE leave the room.
14 INT HOSPITAL ROOM NIGHT
KIRSTY has her hands over her face and is shaking. RONSON stands
and crosses to her. He takes her hand from her face and calms
her.
RONSON
Easy, easy. Whatever happened,
whatever you saw, it’s not here
now.
KIRSTY
I saw it...him. But I got away.
And I took the box. And I solved
it. And they came.
RONSON
Who?
KIRSTY
The Cenobites.
She stares directly at RONSON, daring him to disbelieve.
KIRSTY
The Demons.
RONSON stares back, perhaps a glimmer of belief in his eyes.
On the soundtrack, the sudden and shocking sound of a door being
slammed open and hitting the wall.
KIRSTY screams. Even RONSON is startled.
In the doorway are DOCTOR MALAHIDE and KYLE. MALAHIDE advances
into the room, smiling apologetically as he does so.
MALAHIDE
Sorry. Must get that door
fixed. Detective Ronson?
MALAHIDE holds his hand out, as RONSON nods in response.
MALAHIDE
I am Doctor Malahide.
The man shake hands. MALAHIDE gestures behind him.
MALAHIDE
My assistant, Kyle Macrae. And
this must be Kirsty?
MALAHIDE speaks quickly, as if to get the formalities out of the
way. As he says her name, he smiles benignly at KIRSTY who,
still distraught from her memories and shocked at the slamming of
the door, simply stares at him.
MALAHIDE turns his attention back to RONSON, drawing him away and
speaking to him in a lower voice.
Meanwhile, KYLE walks over to KIRSTY and smiles at her - long
enough to embarrass her into smiling back.
MALAHIDE
I’ve read the boy’s statement.
Quite the adventure they
believe they had. I’d like to talk
to her alone. Do you think ... ?
RONSON looks over his shoulder at KIRSTY. He then looks
carefully at MALAHIDE and then nods slowly.
RONSON
Mmmm. O.K. Frankly, I think
she’s more your territory than
mine. Shame.
RONSON looks back at KIRSTY.
RONSON
Kirsty. Doctor Malahide’s going
to look after you now. Maybe we
could talk some more tomorrow.
KIRSTY nods vaguely and then, just as RONSON reaches the door,
calls out to him.
KIRSTY
Wait! The mattress. You’ve got
to destroy it. She DIED on it,
you see. The mattress. It’s
haunted now. She can come back...
like Frank. SHE CAN COME BACK.
RONSON smiles helplessly at her, then glances at MALAHIDE with a
"you see what I mean" expression, and leaves the room.
KIRSTY (to herself)
The mattress ...
MALAHIDE stares at her briefly, with a strange expression on his
face and then abruptly follows RONSON through the door.
KIRSTY is too absorbed to notice this odd behavior, but KYLE
stares incredulously as MALAHIDE leaves the room.
KYLE
Uh...excuse me a moment.
He follows to the door and stands in the doorway, looking down
the corridor.
15 INT HOSPITAL CORRIDOR NIGHT
RONSON stands before a set of double-doors, talking to a
UNIFORMED OFFICER.
MALAHIDE comes into view, walking swiftly, and instantly talks
over their conversation.
MALAHIDE
Detective. I’ll be able to help
this girl. But I need your assistance ...
16 INT HOSPITAL CORRIDOR NIGHT
Looking back at the corridor, we see the door to KIRSTY’S room
ajar, and KYLE standing by it looking down.
17 INT HOSPITAL CORRIDOR NIGHT (KYLE’ P.O.V)
A LONG SHOT of MALAHIDE and RONSON. KYLE, and we, are too far
away to hear what is said, but MALAHIDE in nodding and gesturing
emphatically, as if persuading RONSON of something.
18 INT HOSPITAL ROOM NIGHT
KYLE returns into the room and closes the door. His expression is
puzzled, troubled. Then he remembers there is a patient here and
he smiles.
KYLE
So...You’re Kirsty, huh?
KIRSTY
You a doctor, too?
KYLE smiles again.
KYLE
Nearly a doctor. I’m Kyle
Macrae. Call me Kyle.
KIRSTY draws a deep breath, temporarily calmed. She even manages
a smile.
KIRSTY
Hi, Kyle.
MALAHIDE re-enters the room.
MALAHIDE
Now, Kirsty...
KIRSTY looks at him warily.
KIRSTY
The cop. He didn’t believe me.
MALAHIDE
I suspect not. But that
doesn’t necessarily mean
you’re wrong, does it?
KIRSTY
Do you believe me?
MALAHIDE offers a re-assuring laugh.
MALAHIDE
Well, I don’t know yet.
However, you’re not lying.
YOU believe this is the truth.
KIRSTY
It IS the truth.
Suddenly, the door opens again. An INTERN is standing there. For
the briefest of moments, MALAHIDE looks furious and then,
catching himself, assumes his calm demeanor.
MALAHIDE
Well?
INTERN
Sorry, Dr. Malahide. But it’s
Tiffany. She’s escaped ... again.
MALAHIDE sighs.
MALAHIDE
Very Well.
He looks down at KIRSTY.
KIRSTY
I’m sorry, Kirsty. Kyle will
come back with something to
help you sleep. We shall speak
tomorrow.
MALAHIDE and KYLE follow the intern from the room, KYLE giving a
last friendly smile as the door closes behind them.
19 EXT. CARNIVAL NIGHT
We are staring down the midway of a deserted carnival. On either
side, stalls and rides beckon to pleasures that their locked
doors and tarpaulin-draped entrances deny. A light rain is
falling.
A huge wooden cut-out of a grinning clown dominates one stall
while the sign beneath him seems to state the ethos of the whole
place; LOTS ’O’ FUN.
Another has a banner proclaiming FREAK SHOW, with the subheading
YOU’LL GASP AT THE GEEK!
On the horizon in the distance, almost denying the reality of
what we are seeing, tower vast cranes of unimaginable height
while beyond them impossibly huge oil-drums squat against the
moon-bright but cloudy sky.
Into shot, and running down the midway, comes a girl, TIFFANY.
TIFFANY is a girl in her early teens but looks younger
then her years due to her boyish figure and her slightly over-
delicate features.
For the last months, TIFFANY has been finding ways out of the
institute and making her way here, where she has one special
obsession, which we will soon see.
Following her into shot, but many yards behind, come two INTERNS
from the Institute. They contrast each other almost comically,
one being tall and plump while the other is smaller and thinner.
They’re not quite the Stan and Ollie of the medical world but
with some serious rehearsal they could get there.
1st INTERN
Oh, Jesus -she’s gonna make it.
Even as the first INTERN says this, we see TIFFANY make a sharp
left turn into a stall entrance.
20 EXT. HALL OF MIRRORS ENTRANCE NIGHT
A front view of the stall into which TIFFANY has run. The large
sign above it proclaims ’HALL OF MIRRORS’ and a smaller sign
perched above a distorting mirror to one side of the entrance
says ’YOU’LL BE AMAZED’.
The two INTERNS enter at a run.
21 INT. HALL OF MIRRORS NIGHT
There follows a hopelessly one-sided pursuit through the
mirror maze as TIFFANY effortlessly eludes the two INTERNS.
There are three major facets to this sequence;
1) Comic relief - as the two interns make fools of themselves.
There could even be a room of distorting mirrors where the thin
INTERN becomes fat and the fat one thin.
2) TIFFANY’S ease and expertise with patterns and puzzles.
3) Confusion of the audience’s sense of the real and the unreal.
This goes on long enough for us to realise the 1ST INTERN was
right to worry, how long TIFFANY could elude them. Then,
jarringly, as the screen is full of reflected TIFFANYS
there suddenly appears amongst them a single image of
MALAHIDE.
Everything stops.
The image of MALAHIDE (and we shouldn’t he sure yet if we’re
looking at a reflection or the real man) puts its hands out,
palms up.
MALAHIDE
Tiffany. Come.
All the TIFFANYS move quietly toward him until they all disappear
from view. Then the real TIFFANY comes into shot, her back to us,
and walks toward what we now see to be the real MALAHIDE, who is
standing in a doorway deliberately framed like a mirror to
confuse the customers.
TIFFANY places her hands docilely on to MALAHIDE’s outstretched
ones.
22 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM NIGHT
KIRSTY has been dozing fitfully, but is awakened by strange
noises. At first terrified, she slowly realises it is simply
someone being put in the room next door.
She waits until activity has ceased and then moves to her door.
It is unlocked. She moves out into the corridor.
23 INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR NIGHT
Looking warily from side to side, KIRSTY edges out into the
corridor, along it, and then stops by the door of the adjoining
room.
24 INT. TIFFANY’S ROOM NIGHT C.U.
A hand fits a piece of jig-saw puzzle into the space it belongs.
We know it is a jig-saw by the shape of the pieces, but it is
clearly not the conventional type - a picturesque photo - because
all we can see at this close-up angle are large areas of black
and white.
25 INT. TIFFANY’S ROOM NIGHT
We now see that the puzzle is on the floor of a room of a similar
size to KIRSTY’S. It is slightly more decorated; It has curtains
and wallpaper. And a tiled floor. Sitting cross-legged on the
floor next to the puzzle is TIFFANY.
The puzzle, which we can now see more clearly, is an intricate
abstract design in black and white. There are several pieces
still un-fitted but TIFFANY is working steadily, efficiently, and
with complete concentration.
On a wall behind her there is a visual record of her progress
over the last few months. Sealed in plastic by staff members are.
Puzzles she has solved, with dates marking her advancement. They
begin with the simplest wood block animals usually given to very
small children. passing through photo-puzzles of increasing
difficulty, and culminating in one or two other examples of the
kind of complicated pattern-work she is involved in now.
26 INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR NIGHT
We pull out to see that this is KIRSTY’S P.O.V. from the glass
panel in the door of TIFFANY’S room.
TIFFANY looks up at one point and eye-contact is made. KIRSTY
gives a tentative smile and a small wave. TIFFANY stares at her.
The stare is long but unresponsive and finally TIFFANY returns to
the puzzle.
KIRSTY has her back to us and the camera is quite close in when a
hand suddenly moves into shot and touches her shoulder.
KIRSTY jumps back in alarm, fear on her face. But it is only
KYLE.
KYLE raises his hand in apology.
KYLE
Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry. God, if
anyone should know not to do that,
it’s me. I’m sorry. O.K.?
KIRSTY nods and gives a nervous smile. KYLE, still embarrassed by
his foolishness and eager to change the subject, nods towards the
glass panel.
KYLE
Sad, huh? She’s been here
six months. Her name’s TIFFANY.
KIRSTY
What’s the matter with her?
KYLE
Almost complete withdrawal. She
hasn’t said a word for nearly
two years.
KIRSTY
God, that’s terrible.
KYLE
Yeah. Doctor Malahide’s got her
doing these jig-saws and things,
though. Says it’s helping to
bring her out.
KYLE ushers KIRSTY back into her own room.
27 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM DAY
As he closes the door to KIRSTY’s room, KYLE reaches into the
pocket of his lab-coat and produces a small box of pills.
KYLE
Anyway, let’s concentrate on
you for a moment. Wanna suck
on this for me?
KIRSTY looks up at him sharply. He is proffering a pill and
grinning facetiously.
KIRSTY
Hey, good joke, Kyle. Do you
always come on to the mentally
ill?
KYLE’s face falls. He blushes. Pressing the pills into KIRSTY’s
hand, he backs off to the door, apologising.
KYLE
Shit. Sorry. Here’s the
pills. Red face. Door. Bye.
He exits hurriedly, closing the door behind him. KIRSTY grins
despite herself. She looks at the pill for a second or two and
then puts it firmly back in the box. Realising there is no
bedside table, she puts the box on the wooden chair.
KIRSTY
Jesus, I’m glad I’m not paying
for this place.
She is about to lie down on the bed, when she senses something is
wrong in the room.
KIRSTY is instantly tense again. She swings her head to the side
and tenses in horror, stifling a scream.
In the corner of the room, against the wall lying in a pool of
blood, is her skinned father LARRY.
KIRSTY emits a pained moan of pure anguish as she realises what
she is looking at.
KIRSTY
(under her breath)
Daddy...
The thing in the corner raises its arm weakly from its side and
begins to write on the wall in its own blood.
It writes : I AM IN HELL; HELP ME.
KIRSTY covers her eyes with her hands and begins to sob.
KIRSTY takes her hands from her eyes.
The figure has gone. The pool of blood has disappeared. But, on
the wall the words remain.
KIRSTY makes herself rise from the bed and walk slowly across the
room.
Her eyes full of tears, she stretches out her arm and touches the
word ’I’.
As her fingers make contact, the words instantly disappear.
She presses her bloodied finger quickly to her lips before that
last trace of her father can vanish, too.
28 INT. TIFFANY’S ROOM NIGHT
TIFFANY is still sitting up cross-legged, weeping. Her puzzle is
completed.
29 EXT. THE INSTITUTE DAY
Basically an establishing shot to show it is the next morning but
it also serves to show MALAHIDE walking briskly to work. His suit
is tasteful and simple, but discreetly expensive-looking. He
walks with purpose and looks straight ahead, acknowledging only
with polite nods the respectful greetings of various JUNIOR
DOCTORS and NURSES he passes on his way. He enters the institute.
We should also see several patients being walked, or wheeled,
around by STAFF during this shot.
MALAHIDE
(off-camera)
And how are we feeling today...?
30 INT. LARGE WARD DAY
This is a large, traditional hospital ward with a line of beds
down each long wall and a wide central aisle.
Nearly all of the beds are occupied and, at the far end of the
ward, there is a male patient in a wheelchair.
All the PATIENTS’ eyes turn immediately and happily to MALAHIDE
as he crosses the room, continuing his speech.
MALAHIDE
Better? Good.
He-doesn’t stop his progress but walks straight through the room
and into the corridor.
As the door closes behind him the WHEELCHAIR PATIENT scowls.
W/CHAIR PATIENT
105 years and he still doesn’t
know my name.
31 INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR DAY
MALAHIDE walks swiftly down the corridor in which we saw him talk
to RONSON earlier, but this time the camera follows him through
the double doors and further down the corridor.
He enters an elevator and the doors close in front of him.
32 INT. BASEMENT CORRIDOR DAY
MALAHIDE exits the elevator into a lower corridor, one not so
carefully decorated.
We are in the area in which the more deeply disturbed of the
Institute’s patients live.
The rooms are smaller, closer together, and there is an
observation panel set in each door.
MALAHIDE looks into the first four rooms.
In the first, a middle-aged, overweight woman sits completely
motionless in the middle of the floor. She is dressed in a
shapeless white robe and is sitting crosslegged. Her head is
shaven, her eyes are rolled completely up into the sockets so
that only white shows.
In the second, a very thin man of about thirty is pressed as
tight as he can be into one corner of the room. His hair is long
and he has a full beard. He is naked but not unadorned - his body
and much of his cell wall is smeared in excrement.
In the third, a man of about MALAHIDE’S age-stands in the centre
of the room. He is of normal build but his head is shaved. His
face, scalp, and hands are covered in self-inflicted and
amaterurish tattoos- all of crosses. He is dressed in T-shirt and
jeans. With both hands he holds aloft a silver crucifix, pointing
it in all directions, as if under constant siege by Devils. He
mutters prayers and invocations constantly.
In the fourth, a man in his early twenties restrained in a
strait-jacket. He shuffles around on the call-floor, his eyes
twitching and flitting from one part of his body to another.
BROWNING
(muttering)
Get them off me. Get them off me.
Off-camera, we hear the sound of KIRSTY’s sobbing - which bridges
the CUT TO:
33 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM DAY
KYLE enters, having heard KIRSTY crying. She is sitting with her
legs over the side of the bed with her face in her hands.
KYLE immediately sits next to her and puts an arm around her
shoulder. He doesn’t force her to speak. He lets her let the
tears out. Finally, she looks up.
KIRSTY
I...I had a visitor.
KYLE
What?
KIRSTY
Oh, Jesus. I can’t explain. It’s
...it’s. I don’t know how to
help! I have to save him and I
don’t know how to help!
KYLE
(Carefully)
Kirsty, I’m sorry... don’t
understand. I...
KIRSTY
I know. No-one can. But I have to save
him. Where’s the other doctor? He said
He’d listen. He promised.
KYLE responds quickly to this. His faith in MALAHIDE is
strong, despite that curious incident of the previous night when
MALAHIDE followed RONSON out of the room.
KYLE
Dr. Malahide. Yes. Look, I’ll
fetch him. You take it easy.
I’m sure he can help.
KYLE stands up, making soothing motions with his hands, and heads
for the door.
KIRSTY
Help. No, no-one can help. I
just want someone to listen
or I WILL go crazy.
KYLE
If anyone can help, HE can.
KIRSTY turns and gives KYLE a strange look as he opens the door.
KIRSTY
Yeah? He got a ticket to Hell?
34 INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR DAY
We TRACK with KYLE down the corridor, eventually reaching an
impressive door, which is slightly ajar. Even before we reach it,
we hear MALAHIDE’s voice. He is clearly on the phone. Because of
the nature of what he is hearing, KYLE pauses when he reaches the
door, listening with a confused expression on his face.
MALAHIDE
(off-camera & gradually fading up)
Officer Kucich? Yes, Doctor
Malahide. You’ve spoken to
Ronson? Yes ... That’s right.
The mattress ... No, I’ll meet
you by the side entrance. No, no,
my HOUSE. Yes, let me make that
clear. The house, NOT the hospital.
... Yes ... Fine, and thank you.
We hear the phone click. KYLE waits a moment and then walks
swiftly through the door, speaking as he does so.
KYLE
Doctor Malahide ... ?
35 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM DAY
KIRSTY’S face fills the screen. Her voice is slightly dreamy, as
if she is still trying to understand herself the story she is
about to tell.
KIRSTY
It must have been going on
forever...
Her voice trails off. We pull out to see KIRSTY sitting up on her
bed. MALAHIDE on the wooden chair, and KYLE standing by the
door.
MALAHIDE’s voice pulls her back.
MALAHIDE
Kirsty...?
KIRSTY snaps back and continues to speak in a more normal voice.
KIRSTY
But the part I know about,
That must have started with
my Uncle Frank...
MALAHIDE
Then let us speak of it ...
DISSOLVE TO
36 EXT. MALAHIDE’s HOUSE TWILIGHT
We TRACK in slowly towards a modern house that we will learn is
MALAHIDE’S, up the drive, towards the front door.
DISSOLVE TO
37 INT. MALAHIDE’S HALLWAY TWILIGHT
The TRACK continues along the hallway and into the OBSESSION
ROOM.
38 INT. OBSESSION ROOM NIGHT
The TRACK continues.
The room is dim, lit only by stray shafts of moonlight.
On the floor in the centre of the room is the mattress.
The TRACK stops. A main light is clicked on and MALAHIDE moves
into shot. MALAHIDE pours himself a scotch from the decanter that
sits on the writing table and approaches the mattress.
He is clearly very, excited. He walks around the mattress two or
three times, never taking his eyes off it.
He walks back to the writing table, throws his drink back, puts
the glass down and leaves the room.
39 EXT. MALAHIDE’S HOUSE NIGHT
MALAHIDE leaves through his front door and walks toward the
hospital.
40 INT. OBSESSION ROOM NIGHT
After a few seconds silence we hear a repeated clicking sound, as
if something is being forced, followed by a louder snap and the
sound of a sash window being opened.
The curtains balloon inwards, part, and KYLE steps into the room.
He stands still for a moment, as if making sure he is alone, and
then begins to take in his surroundings.
The room is entirely devoted to MALAHIDE’S secret obsession -
with the Paranormal in general and the Lament Configuration in
particular.
It is a fair-sized, square shaped room. Prints, paintings, and
photographs cover the walls. All of these pictures relate in some
way to his obsession; photographs of ghost-sightings; portraits
of magicians from Cagliostro to Crowley; prints of arcane symbols
and pentagrams, etc.
Specifically, we recognize a print that resembles very closely
the jigsaw he has had TIFFANY recently solve. Also, there are
framed diagrams (which look very old) of the Lament Configuration
-Both open and closed.
On a long, low table there are three glass cases. In each of
these cases is a Lament Configuration. On each case is a small
label giving a location, a date of acquisition, and a number -
which we may assume to be the number of deaths attributable to
that specific box.
These labels read: CAIRO 3/4/’59 7
LYONS 6/2/’72 4
NEW YORK 12/3/’81 5
There are also, on a small desk-top bookshelf on a writing table,
editions of MALAHIDE’S own books. He seems to have spent his
career publicly denying what he is privately obsessed with -
because the books titles include ’Possession: Not Demons but
Disease’,’The Myth of the Diabolic’, and ’The Internal Inferno’.
KYLE
Jesus Christ. Jee-sus-kerr-ist!
We assume he has visited MALAHIDE’S house before, but he has
clearly never seen this room.
He stares at the mattress with incredulity, as if he still can’t
believe his superior has had it brought here. Then he begins to
look around the room in more detail. He approaches the glass
cases and bends slightly to look at their contents.
KYLE shakes his head.
KYLE
Oh, shit.
41 INT. BASEMENT CORRIDOR NIGHT
MALAHIDE walks past a bank of meters and huge circuit breakers on
his way to the lower and of the corridor, by the cells
of the very disturbed. He stops by the cell of the man in the
strait-jacket. We hear from the outside the familiar muttering of
BROWNING. MALAHIDE enters the call.
42 INT. BROWNING’S CELL NIGHT
As MALAHIDE enters, BROWNING looks at him. His eyes demand, not
plead, and he speaks through clenched teeth.
BROWNING
Get them off me. Get. Them.
Off. Me.
43 INT. OBSESSION ROOM NIGHT
KYLE is rooting through the drawers in the writing table.
Generally the contents are unremarkable - handwritten notes, a
few patients case-files etc. - but in one of the drawers he
finds a black ring-binder which he takes out and lays on the
table.
It is a book of faces. There are about fifteen sheets in the
binder. Some of them are genuine photographic prints, some
photocopies of original photos. They range widely in age, race,
and sex. They are all full-face portraits. Chronologically, the
range is extensive too. Some pictures (generally photocopies)
appear to date from the earliest days of photography, the late
1880’s, others have an Edwardian appearance, or suggest the
1920’s. Only one or two seem to be less than thirty years old.
KYLE flicks back and forward in the book, wondering on the
significance of these people.
He is lost in the musings when the click of the front door tells
him MALAHIDE has returned.
KYLE closes the book and quickly slips it back into the drawer.
He heads rapidly for the window he came in through but realises
MALAHIDE is too close for him to open it and make good his
escape. Instead he stands between the window and the curtains,
pulling the latter closed over him.
MALAHIDE enters the room, leading BROWNING who is still strait-
jacketed.
44 INT. BEHIND THE CURTAIN NIGHT
We see KYLE standing very still in the limited space behind the
curtains. It is clearly seen that, given the thoroughness with
which he closed the curtains and his immobile position, he is
unable to see what is happening in the room. He can hear, but not
see.
45 INT. OBSESSION ROOM NIGHT
MALAHIDE leads BROWNING across to the mattress. Standing beside
it, he unbuckles and removes the strait-jacket from his patient.
BROWNING, beneath the strait-jacket, is naked to the waist. His
arms and cheat are a mass of scars of various age and size.
MALAHIDE gestures to the mattress. Now that his arms are free,
BROWNING is scratching furiously.
MALAHIDE
Mr. Browning. Please, lie down.
BROWNING lies down, still scratching, trust and hope in his eyes.
46 INT. OBSESSION ROOM BROWNING’S DELUSION (BROWNING’S P.O.V.)
As if looking through BROWNING’s eyes, we see his body stretched
out before us on the mattress.
The naked chest and arms are covered with raised lumps, red and
painful-looking.
As his scratching arms attack these lumps, they break open,
revealing vile black insects that have hatched beneath his skin.
BROWNING brushes these away while he scratches at the remaining
lumps.
47 INT. OBSESSION ROOM NIGHT
BROWNING has already re-opened some of the more recent scars, and
blood slowly rises to the surface of his skin.
MALAHIDE walks over to his writing tableland goes into one of
the drawers.
He produces an old-fashioned cut-throat razor and walks back to
BROWNING
MALAHIDE
Here. This will help.
He proffers the razor. BROWNING siezes it. MALAHIDE steps back
quickly, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension on his face.
BROWNING slashes at his body and left arm with a short, sharp,
slicing motions. In his mind, he is lancing the cysts that
contain the tormenting insects. In reality, he is inflicting
horrifying damage on himself.
Blood pours from the multitude of wounds, running over his body
and down onto the mattress.
Suddenly, without any preliminaries, two painfully thin, flayed,
mucus-covered arms shoot out of the mattress, one on either side
of the still-busy BROWNING.
They wrap themselves tightly across his chest and crush him
tightly to the mattress, as a head, similarly wasted, oozes out
of the mattress to the side of BROWNING’s head.
Beneath his delusions, BROWNING suddenly has an inkling of what is
happening to him. His eyes widen and his mouth opens ready to
emit a scream but the monster beneath him forces a hand over his
mouth as it buries its face into the soft flesh of his neck.
Two legs now rise from the oozing slime that the bloodstains on
the mattress have become. They too wrap themselves around
BROWNING so that he is held tight.
Finally, with titanic effort, he gathers enough momentum to roll
completely free of the mattress and falls to the floor beside it.
The thing on his back now is pulling free from the bed of
bubbling, frothing slime that the mattress now is with a sliding,
slurping sound.
The monster’s face is now deep in the flesh of his throat, and
even as BROWNING forces himself up first onto one knee and then,
very unsteadily, onto his feet, we can see him wasting away - his
face losing its fullness and colour, his chest sinking in on
itself.
The creature, which is still wrapped around him and clinging
tight is, unlike him, growing in stature by the second. Muscles
are inflating, arteries pumping more vigorously, and flesh itself
filling out.
Its horrific thin-ness when it first appeared effectively unsexed
it but now, as its regeneration continues, the fullness of its
hips, the roundness of its thighs, and the sacs of fat and muscle
that bloom above its ribs confirm its female nature. If there was
any doubt that this was JULIA, it is now disappearing.
BROWNING is now nearly a walking corpse and it is the strength of
his will alone that allows him to take a few faltering steps with
JULIA still enveloping him. With the desperate strength with which
she clings to him and the way her legs are wrapped around his
hips, it is like an obscenely perverse parody of sexual passion.
MALAHIDE has been watching all this with an incredible mix of
emotions playing across his face. Still human enough to feel both
fear and disgust at what is happening he is nevertheless awe
struck and exhilarated. He has waited all his life for such an
irrefutable demonstration of the power and the truth of the
supernatural.
Similarly, the scientist in him is fascinated by the living
anatomy lessons that JULIA’s regeneration and BROWNING rapid
decay offer.
With one last dying effort, the now-almost-husk-like BROWNING
breaks JULIA’S grip and makes a futile step forward as she falls
from him. He totters towards the curtains.
Just as the audience think he will pull them down with him,
revealing KYLE, JULIA grabs his ankle and pulls. He falls back to
the floor.
48 INT. BEHIND THE CURTAINS NIGHT
The loud noise of BROWNING’s fall renews KYLE’s resolve to see
what is going on. Carefully, he shifts his position so that he
can see through a small gap in the curtains.
49 INT. KYLE’S P.O.V. NIGHT
KYLE may have heard one or two strange and unpleasant noises but
BROWNING has not screamed nor JULIA spoken; nothing has prepared
him for what he sees - a skinned woman sucking out what life
remains from the dried husk of a psychotic man.
50 INT. BEHIND THE CURTAINS NIGHT
KYLE’s head jerks back, shaking as if he’s just had an electric
shock. His mouth moves but no sound emerges.
KYLE
(mimed)
Jesus Christ!
His terror simultaneously urging speed and silence, KYLE gingerly
maneuvers himself out of the window.
51 INT. OBSESSION ROOM NIGHT
JULIA lies back satisfied on the floor. She looks up weakly at
MALAHIDE.
JULIA
Help me.
Her voice is perfect. MALAHIDE stares at her, his fascination
intense. He crosses the few yards that separate them. He looks at
her, lying beside the hollow shell that was CHEYNEY. Her eyes
stare back, brilliant, sparkling, alive.
JULIA
Help Me.
MALAHIDE realises her temporary vulnerability; all the life force
she has absorbed from BROWNING has made up her body, but it will
take some moments for the strength to return to her.
Fascinated and sympathetic as he is however he cannot yet quite
brine himself to touch this creature. Instead he moves the
mattress nearer to her, allowing her to crawl back onto it and
lie down again.
MALAHIDE stares down at her. He attempts a smile, but is too
nervous to make it convincing. He is trembling slightly. This
contact with the beyond is something he has dreamt of for years,
but nevertheless the physical reality is overwhelming.
JULIA treats him to the approximation of a smile. She is far from
nervous.
She studies herself. Her figure is fully formed, her womanliness
undeniable. All she is missing is a skin. She stretches her arms.
She lifts her legs. She writhes on the bed in pleasure, like an X-
ray photograph of a calendar girl.
MALAHIDE stares at her, following the sensual movements of her
body. He swallows, a little embarrassed by his response to the
naked display he is privileged to watch.
JULIA’S eyes twinkle at him.
JULIA
Don’t be embarrassed. You’re
my friend.
She looks away and continues her stretching and wiggling, more
conscious of it now as an erotic display.
The strength has flooded through her body as she rises to her
feet, and stops off the mattress, smiling at MALAHIDE.
MALAHIDE backs away from her as she moves towards him, doing his
best to return her smile.
After a few steps, JULIA stops and simply stares into MALAHIDE’S
eyes. He too stops and returns the gaze. The camera circles them
slowly several times, studying them - the dressed, nervous man
and skinned, confident woman.
JULIA
Well?
MALAHIDE says nothing. Perhaps he swallows nervously. The camera
continues its circling movements. The scene FADES TO BLACK and
JULIA begins to laugh, small, sensual giggles at first building
finally as the blackness comes into an almost hysterical
crescendo of raucous joy.
52 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM NIGHT
KIRSTY is again lying on her back on top of the bed. She is a
stark contrast to JULIA. No display. No laughter.
Her eyes are open and red-rimmed from weeping now. There is also
complete silence.
All the more jarring, then, the sudden sound of someone fumbling
at the handle of KIRSTY’S door.
Her eyes widen in alarm and she flings herself off the bed,
scanning the room for anything that can be used as a weapon.
There is nothing but the chair and she she has all but lifted it
aloft when she sees that it is KYLE, who comes into the room.
KIRSTY
Shit, Kyle. This is getting to
be a habit. What is it, some
kind of shock-therapy?
She was angry, relieved, and amused when she realized it was KYLE
and all these showed in her voice and face. Now they drop away
completely, replaced by a nervous apprehension as she becomes
aware of the blank horror on his face.
KIRSTY
Oh, Jesus. What is it?
KYLE opens his mouth a few times, as if unsure what to say.
KYLE
It’s all true.
53 INT. TIFFANY’S ROOM NIGHT
TIFFANY walks around her room, staring at her completed puzzles -
those on the wall and the one on the floor - and waiting for the
next one.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
54 EXT. MALAHIDE’S HOUSE DAY
A simple shot tells us it is the next morning.
55 INT. OBSESSION ROOM MALAHIDE’S HOUSE DAY
MALAHIDE , dressed in a black suit, is in the room, staring at
the empty mattress. We TRACK with him through to his LIVING ROOM.
56 INT. LIVING ROOM MALAHIDE’S HOUSE DAY
In contrast to the secret and private obsession room, this room
is the tasteful and upmarket room of the successful professional.
It is a long spacious room with modern furniture and white walls.
The walls are mostly free of decoration save for two or three
large canvases of abstract art.
The longest wall is broken up only by a low circular table, which
rests against it about half way down. On this table is a very
simple black vase containing a spray of beautiful white lilies.
Above this vase on the wall is a large frameless mirror.
As MALAHIDE enters, the first thing he sees is a bloody palm-
print on one of his white walls. He blinks at it and looks down
into the room. We CUT TO;
JULIA. At first it seems she is staring at the lilies, but as we
TRACK around her, we realise she is staring at the reflection of
her skinned self.
Her face snarls at herself, she roars with rage, forms her hand
into a fist and shatters the mirror.
MALAHIDE rushes towards her. She swings round and freezes him
with a glance.
They hold their positions for a moment, MALAHIDE nervous and
JULIA furious, and then JULIA makes herself relax. She sighs,
takes a few deep breaths, and then speaks.
JULIA
I’m cold.
TIME CUT
57 INT. LIVING ROOM MALAHIDE’S HOUSE DAY
CLOSE UP on a strangely Art Deco electric fan heater, with bright
red coils emitting waves of heat.
We pull out to see MALAHIDE standing by the table with the flowers.
There is now a half-full glass of wine on the table, along with
an ashtray where a cigarette burns away ignored. A pack of
cigarettes is now visible in the breast pocket of MALAHIDE’s jacket.
JULIA enters the room and closes the door behind her. She is
dressed in one of MALAHIDE’S suits. It is a light weight suit of
white linen, a suit for expensive holidays in hot countries.
She crosses the room to the table; pausing slightly in the centre
of the room, to allow MALAHIDE to look at her.
JULIA
Well?
MALAHIDE’S nervousness has retreated a little, he manages to
smile. He nods his head slowly a few times.
MALAHIDE
Yes... Yes. You look...
JULIA
Surreal? Strange? Nightmarish?
MALAHIDE
No. You look...
He pauses, lost for words.
JULIA doesn’t wait for an answer. She crosses to the table and
takes up his glass of wine. She downs it in one.
MALAHIDE stares at her, a little surprised.
JULIA
Yes, I still like WINE ...
She smiles strangely at him and then moves closer. Slowly,
keeping her eyes on his, she reaches into his breast pocket
for his packet of cigarettes and places one in her mouth.
JULIA
... and more.
For a moment, MALAHIDE’s face is stone. Then, slowly, he returns
her smile and, drawing his lighter, lights her cigarette.
58 INT. SHOPPING MALL DAY
A large multi-level shopping complex obviously up-market and
expensive.
We see MALAHIDE, riding up one on the central escalators, looking
around him as he does so, as if searching for a specific shop.
He reaches the next level and begins to walk along one of the
several avenues that lead away from the central square containing
the escalators.
He walks past several shops, looking in their windows; a chic
specialty shop, a window full of clocks, a cutler’s. Finally,
he stops in front of one. He stares at its display window.
The window is classily minimal. There is in fact only one dress
in it. It is an exquisite white cocktail gown. The gown is full
length but quite tight-fitting, merely flaring a little from
below the knee, and has a halter-neck.
MALAHIDE walks into the shop.
59 INT. MALAHIDE’S BEDROOM DAY
We are looking at a reflection of MALAHIDE in the large mirror
that covers the inside of his wardrobe door. His real hand and
his reflected hand come together at the edge of the door and tip
it slightly, changing the image that the mirror shows us.
Now we see JULIA. She is in the dress from the shop in the mall.
It is a perfect fit and shows her figure off very well. Being a
halter-neck, however, her skinned arms and shoulders are
completely bare. Also, it is quite low cut at the front, exposing
a fair degree of visceral cleavage, and at the back.
JULIA turns fully around in front of the mirror examining herself
from every angle. Her mood is unreadable until she speaks.
JULIA
Close it.
MALAHIDE does so. He understands and tries to console her..
MALAHIDE
It’s a beautiful dress...
JULIA
I know.
TIME CUT
59 INT. LIVING ROOM MALAHIDE’S HOUSE DAY
CLOSE UP MALAHIDE’S hands applying wide, white, surgical
bandages to JULIA.
We pull out as MALAHIDE steps away from JULIA. They are both
standing in the middle of the living room floor.
JULIA’S arms, torso, and head are now completely enclosed in
neatly and professionally applied bandages. There are three slits
for her eyes and mouth but apart from these she is completely
covered. Over these she is still wearing the white dress.
MALAHIDE
There...
JULIA lifts her arms slightly to look at them and then touches her
bandaged face. She turns towards MALAHIDE. The camera begins the
same circling movement it made around them the previous night.
MALAHIDE’S nervousness has practically disappeared. He has helped
this woman. He has bandaged her and dressed her. He is slightly
in awe of her, but it is now tinged with excitement, not fear.
The camera’s circling grows faster.
MALAHIDE
Well?
JULIA walks towards him, slowly raising her hands. When she is
close enough her hands cup his cheeks. She pulls him towards her,
and, tipping her head to one side, kisses him. Her body moulds
itself to his.
She leans her head back. Were they have kissed blood has pressed
up onto the bandage from her skinned flesh. It looks like smeared
lipstick.
JULIA
Well?
MALAHIDE puts his arms around her waist. They kiss tenderly.
Slowly, almost nervously, he lowers his hands until they rest on
her buttocks and presses her in towards him. They begin to spin
themselves now, echoing the camera movements.
They cross the room, kissing blindly, until they come to rest
against the wall that bears JULIA’s bloody palm print. JULIA
twists their bodies so that MALAHIDE is pressed against the wall,
and begins to move her hips forcefully and sensually against
MALAHIDE.
The camera is stationary now, watching without movement as
MALAHIDE begins to raise JULIA’s dress up her legs, her hand
on his wrist, helping and encouraging.
About halfway up the thigh, the bandaging disappears and the
raw flesh is exposed.
The kissing and the fumbling continue until they are making
fast and violent love against the wall.
His hands clutch tightly at her hips and he pulls his face away
from the kissing to loan it on her shoulder so that we see his
face as it grimaces in ecstasy.
He cries out and shudders and slowly both their movements stop.
He strokes at her back gently and their bodies relax.
JULIA
(almost coyly)
Now all we need is a skin.
60 INT. BATHROOM KYLE’S APARTMENT DAY
CLOSE UP on shower jets hitting KIRSTY’s face and naked
shoulders.
Her eyes are closed, but she smiles in pleasure as the water
refreshes her.
A knocking is heard. KIRSTY moves her head out of the water’s
path and shouts.
KIRSTY
Yeah?
61 INT. KYLE’S APARTMENT DAY
It is basically a studio apartment - everything except the bathroom
facilities is in the one room. There is a sofa - with sheets and
blankets on it - a bed, a dining/all-purpose table with two
chairs, shelves full of records and books, and a small working
desk against one of the walls. The desk is weighed down by text
books and notes and, tacked to the wall above it, are medical prints,
some of the brain and central nervous system, but also two fullcoloured
anatomical prints - one of a man and one of a woman. They could
almost be portraits of JULIA and FRANK.
KYLE, fully dressed, is standing by the bathroom door, his hand
still in a knocking position.
KYLE
You O.K.?
Silence.
KYLE
Kirsty? You 0. K.?
The bathroom door opens and KIRSTY Comes into the main room,
dressed in a toweling robe that is clearly a ’hers’ not a ’his’.
She crosses the room to a mirror, rubbing at her wet hair with a
towel.
KIRSTY
No bad dreams.
KYLE
So you slept O.K.?
KIRSTY gestures at the sofa.
KIRSTY
As much as that bed of
nails allowed.
KYLE glances meaningfully at the bed as he replies.
KYLE
Well, the sofa isn’t often used
for sleeping on...
KIRSTY
Oh yeah? On your own a lot,
Huh?
KYLE grins.
KYLE
Like the robe?
KIRSTY returns the smile via the mirror.
KYLE crosses the room to sit at his dining table. Empty coffee
cups, the remnants of a loaf and some cheese suggests their
breakfast was simple and finished some time ago.
KIRSTY gathers her clothes from by the sofa and moves back into
the bathroom to dress.
KYLE waits a few moments and then speaks.
KYLE
I think I need to talk. About
what I saw.
KIRSTY emerges, fully dressed, her hair still damp.
KIRSTY
You thought I was crazy, didn’t
you?
KYLE spreads his hands wide.
KYLE
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