ENTRANCE THREE
We see the clear liquid contained in the IV-like container. A liquid cloud of his blood grows within. Preparing the mixture for injection. The viscosity of the fluid starts to thicken and the camera moves into the mixture. As blood and chemical swirls take shape, we move fast. Deeper into the fluid at a molecular level.
We feel like we're soaring over some kind of liquid landscape. We snap back to the procedure room, Novak hyperventilates. He's having difficulty making the transition. During this 'journey,' we see vivid colorful designs like fractals - flying faster, faster, faster. Through an entire universe.
STARGHER'S WORLD: Clouds hover above a dark, gloomy landscape dotted with hills. Three identical women sit in grooves of earth, their bodies positioned in a uniform pattern. Pull back to reveal Novak nearby, sprawled faced down in a shallow puddle. A spot of light dances on his face. Novak breathes deeply and sits up, noticing the three women.
MOTHER ONE: Have you seen him?
Novak finds the first of the three - visions of Stargher's mother - addressing him. She, like the other two, speaks in a ghostly monotone, nearly devoid of emotion.
MOTHER ONE: My boy, my little one. His father took him from me.
As she continues, almost mantra-like, woman two begins:
MOTHER TWO (similar monotone): So we speak (unintelligible). Big deal. He is damned. Don't need anything like that here.
The women's repetitive "monologues" overlap. Aurual layers now added by three.
MOTHER THREE: My son is an abomination. He has no soul.
NOVAK: Okay . . .
Novak takes a moment to absorb his surroundings. The sights, sounds and feel of the place. Like being within a dream. As he backs away from the odd trio, shimmering light dances across his face. Shading his eyes. Novak searches for the source. Opposite him, is a dark hall with ornamental wall trim. Like a star, the light sparkles inside, a fragment of mirror reflecting, cutting across the hall. The light guiding him, Novak rises and turns a 180 to find the light source. A room is opened up at the end where we see the gleaming light.
THE DEN: Novak emerges in a cavernous room dripping with decadence. The place reeks of sex, pain, lust, and cruelty. As he moves deeper into the chamber, Novak sees young Stargher, in a hall entrance on the opposite of the room is holding the locket, shining the reflective light. The flickering light pinpoints a figure emerging from the darkness. The young boy runs away.
It is Catherine. Novak approaches her from behind. Altered to an image of Stargher's victims. Her skin, face, clothing, eyes, are just like the Victims'. It's a shocking, strange image, made even more disturbing by the look of pleasure on her face. Novak is staggered by the sight. His vision and hearing become affected by blurred vision, sharp sounds - then focus to clarity as he reminds himself. She has a polished metal mask on her face, very stylish.
Like an ethereal queen of the damned, she is chained to the ornate bedding pedestal. Novak comes up to her and sits on the bed, placing his hand on her leg.
NOVAK: Catherine.
Catherine exhibits no recognition of her name. She looks at him, no emotion.
NOVAK: Is that you? Are you allright?
Novak gently removes the mask.
NOVAK: Catherine, listen to me.
We hear Catherine talking with a tone of echo, but her lips don't move.
CATHERINE: Peter . . . poor dear.
Catherine seductively moves closer to Novak.
NOVAK: This isn't real.
CATHERINE: Did daddy do a bad thing?
Their voices echo something in the background, their bodies almost touching, her hands caressing his hair, lips, neck. And then a loud, shrill, echoing screech - we cut to a large vulture perched on a stand in an adjoining room, unseen by Novak. The sound bristles through the room, sweeping through ceiling decor like wind chimes, it captures Novak's attention. She gently pulls his head back to her and kisses him. He seems captivated, but tries to stay focused why he is there.
NOVAK: This isn't real.
The vulture lets out a disapproving call. He continues to plead with her as she continues her seductive approach.
She steals a glance over his shoulder and glimpses a male figure coming toward them. Novak is utterly unaware of what's happening. Catherine is keeping him occupied. Waiting for the arrival of... Stargher King. Stargher King wraps a red cloth bag over his head.
THE DEN: Eyelids rise and flutter. Novak becomes conscious. And instantly realizes what's happened. He lies on a pedestal, face up, spread-eagle, his wrists and ankles bound to the cold stone surface with leathery cords. Standing nearby, in a pool of light, is Stargher King.
Wearing what could be seen as ceremonial garb, Stargher King prepares himself for execution of a ritual by arranging an assortment of shiny, sharp, macabre tools. Stargher King's fingers pass over an array of horrific instruments - a cleaver knife, spikes, a long slender needle with a hook, snippers, and scissors. They all surround a finger bowl filled with water, which Stargher King daintily dips his fingers.
Stargher King grabs the ornate scissors and the hooked needle. Novak shuts his eyes and silently tells himself, Not real. He opens them, breathes deeply and focuses on Catherine. Novak calls to her, but his words a muddled by heavy reverberation. So far, Catherine looks at Novak like he's speaking gibberish. Stargher King grabs Novak, exposing the flesh of his abdomen.
STARGHER KING (finally speaking): Naughty worm.
Stargher King drives the scissors into Novak's flesh. Novak screams! This fucking hurts! Stargher King digs his fingers into the open wound, probing. He pulls out Novak's intestine, like catching a worm. Novak cries in pain. Stargher King secures the end of Novak's intestine on a thorn-like rod - part of an apparatus like a rotisserie, with a turn handle. A pale, sweating Novak tries to stay conscious. He will not go into shock...
NOVAK (tears forming, horrified): Fuck you! Fuck you, motherfucker!
Stargher King applauds with his bloody hands, grinning ear to ear. Novak turns to Catherine, who has been watching all this with a crooked smile.
NOVAK: Catherine, wake the fuck up now!!!
Stargher King begins turning the handle, music plays, like the chimes of a children's music box. Novak's intestine begins wrapping around the thorn-like rod. Stargher King sings a nursery rhyme like verse as Novak screams in agony. Remembering Miriam's advice, he hits Catherine with something personal.
NOVAK (urgency): Catherine, when you were a child, your baby brother had a car accident. He was in a coma for six months before he died. And I'm sorry for saying that, but you got to wake up!
The pain over takes him and Novak returns to screams of pain. Catherine's expression changes. Like a thunderbolt, there's a glimmer of life, of recognition in her eyes. A tear falls down her cheek.
NOVAK (reminding himself): This is not real... Not real.
Catherine slowly rises and approaches Stargher King's array of cutting instruments. She graps a large metal spike. This catches the attention of the vulture, the creature looks alarmed.
STARGHER KING (mimicking Novak, whiny voice): It's nod reel, nod reel, nod reel...
Catherine approaches Stargher King from behind and rams the spike through his back and out his chest! Stargher King freezes in silence, a look of shock. He finally looks down and sees the bloody spike protruding from his chest. The King lets out a prolonged blood curdling scream. The vulture spreads out it's wings and takes off. Novak is shaking his head in slow motion like movement, screaming, then suddenly . . . .
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