Kat: So, Derek was sweating you pretty hard tonight.
Julia: (laughing) Oh, God. He was all up on it. Who grinds anymore? What is this? 1997?
Music: White noise...
Julia: Plus he's... not my type.
Music: It's what you've learned to speak...
Kat: What is your type?
Julia: I think you know.
Music: It's in your bloodstream...
Kat: Do I?
Music: Crossfade . . . . . Crossfade . . . . . The truth is killing you...
Kat: Remind me.
Julia: Strong, athletic, legs for days. Smart, but plays dumb.
Kat: Nope. No one comes to mind.
Music: In the freezer at night . . . . . To fight temptation . . . . . Over and over and...
Julia: You're not surprised.
Music: And, oh, it kills me...
Kat: No. I mean, I don't know. I wasn't sure.
Julia: You know I can't keep my eyes off you.
Music: Becoming a specter of what you used to dream...
Kat: You mean, like, when we're dancing? Yeah, that doesn't mean anything. We all watch each other all the time.
Julia: When I'm behind you at barre, I can't focus on the music. I smell your perfume when you start to sweat, and then I'm kissing your neck, your collarbone. I get all messed up. What is it... about me... for you?
Music: Has all your wilding
Kat: It's your face. It's... your eyes.
Music: Are you tracing
Kat: It sounds stupid, but it's like they're lit from behind. They're alive.
Music: Dialing my number...
Kat: I feel stupid.
Julia: Go on.
Kat: Your mouth. Especially when you're concentrating, or right before you're about to laugh. And those damn cheekbones. I mean... they're ridiculous.
Julia: Kat, look at me.
Music: You're driving Santa Monica...
Gasps, tires squeal, coughing, wheezes, coughs, coughing, gasping for air, panting.
Kat: Ow! . . . . . Ah! (panting, grunts) Julia? Julia, wake up! Julia... wake up. (grunting, panting) Help! (wheezy panting) Help! (crying) Help! (banging on door, coughing, screaming) Help!
Man: Your country is desolate. Your cities burning with fire! Your land, strangers plunder, devour. Before your eyes, invaders take the temple.
Angela: Super. Just what we need. Joseph, see if you can do something with him.
Joseph: Yeah. Come on.
Man: ...destroy everything they see.
Loud gasping, rattled breathing, gasping.
Joseph: Easy, buddy. You okay? Look, look, come on, get to your feet.
Angela: Welcome. Hello. Yes, hello. How wonderful to have you. Thank you.
Angela: Angela Rance. Welcome.
Bennett: Father Devin Bennett. Prefect of Papal Outreach and Security.
Angela: It's an honor to have you here, Father Bennett.
Man: Invaders! The Devil will come to take your children in the night! You... you...
Angela: Kind of makes you question free speech, right? This way.
Man: Invaders reside among you!
Angela: This way.
Man: Blemish the city, ravish the people! Satan will get you! Fear for your children, for they will perish.
Siren blaring, garbled radio transmission.
Devon: Check it, Five-O doing a sweep. There you go. Scratch that big-ass belly.
Q: Mm, better check the fridge. Might be a perp in there.
Devon: (laughs) Oh, he tired now. All the brothers he been bagging cutting into his beauty sleep. He needs a vacay!
Q: Ah, you know what he's thinking. "Now I got to go arrest some white guy." Ain't nobody in this hood beast enough to cut out nobody's eyeballs.
Devon: That's that crazy white boy 101. Like, you know he got to have two first names.
Q: Jonathan Percy Wilkerson.
Devon: Or Richard Aaron McCoy.
Q: Yeah, but he go by "Dickie" 'cause he got a...
Marcus: You said they took the eyes?
Devon: I didn't say it to you.
Marcus: What else did they take?
Devon: Why? You a cop?
Marcus: Do I look like a cop?
Q: Yeah, but one of them scary cops, though. Like you ain't got no friends. (laughs) Oh, really? Oh, that's for real?
Devon: Look, all I know is what I heard.
Marcus: What exactly did you hear?
Henry: You're a modern guy, Father. You don't really believe in demons and the Devil and all that. I mean, those are just stories, right?
Tomas: Is this about Casey?
Henry: You agree with Angela? Casey's possessed?
Tomas: What's happening with Casey is complicated. I think that if you believe in God, maybe... maybe we have to accept the possibility that he has an adversary.
Henry: I pray at night. A lot more now. I ask Him what I would be doing if that scaffolding hadn't collapsed, screwed my head up. I don't trust myself now. Something's wrong with my little girl.
Tomas: I know. I see it, too.
Henry: So what am I supposed to do now?
Doors close loudly.
Tomas: I know someone. He knows about these things.
Kat: Case? Case, let me see.
Kat: I'm coming in. That's great. Totally you. We done?
Casey: Don't pretend like you don't care about this thing. It's her memorial.
Kat: Yeah. And, yeah, fine... I'm kind of dreading it. And I'm sorry that Mom's being a psycho and making you come, too.
Casey: Well, I'm here for you. You know, if you get nervous or sad, I got your back, okay?
Kat: Seriously, that dress looks good. We should go. I'll meet you out front in ten.
Salesman: Classic Kat exit. Trailing clouds of me, me, me. You see what she's wearing? Not some boxy frock, that's for certain. Sketched in Milan, stitched in Bangladesh. It catches light, opens doors, and gets what it wants.
Casey: (laughs) I couldn't fit into that.
Salesman: You will just fit into it, which is the point, my beauty. Take it.
Casey: It's $3,600. There's no way.
Salesman: There's nothing but ways. Stuff it in the bottom of your bag. You mustn't keep the Kat waiting.
Henry: Are you picking up on anything in the house? An energy or a presence?
Marcus: It doesn't work that way.
Henry: How does it work?
Angela: Yes. She didn't really take to it. She's more of a...
Henry: Rough and tumble.
Marcus: Your other daughter's a dancer?
Angela: Yes. Kat. Katherine. How long have you known Father Tomas?
Marcus: Are they friends?
Henry: They're sisters.
Marcus: That's not what I asked.
Angela: They're... they're sisters and friends.
Music box playing.
Marcus: I'd like to speak to your daughter.
Maria: My husband would want me to thank you, Cardinal Guillot, for your diligence in planning the Pope's motorcade with Chicago's commerce in mind.
Bennett translating softly.
Maria: Whoever said the Church wasn't strategic was... Wait. Nobody ever said that.
Laughter, Cardinal speaking French.
Bennett: (translating) Indeed, Mrs. Walters. I believe this approach will not only bolster the faith of your most influential parishioners but will benefit Chicago as well.
Maria: It is wonderful when collaboration results in added value for all. That said, I wonder if we shouldn't consider His Holiness's desire to spend a bit more time in Chicago's depleted regions.
Bennett: Respectfully, our objections to altering the itinerary, as previously stated, is that those neighborhoods pose additional risk to His Holiness's safety. His Holiness has the luxury of ignoring such matters, being a man of the people, which is why we must consider them on his behalf.
Maria: Father Tomas, you take the Red Line south from here on your way back to your parish.
Tomas: Yes. Yes, I do, Mrs. Walters.
Maria: Do you fear for His Holiness's safety on this trip?
Tomas: Well, I'm sure there are many... logistics involved in this trip.
Maria: Thank you, Father Tomas.
Tomas: But I think we must separate the idea of violence in some of these neighborhoods from the everyday people who work and live there.
Egan: Father Tomas's parish is home to hardworking Catholics. You'll forgive him if he feels somewhat protective.
Tomas: I'm sorry, but there is nothing depleted about my parish.
Egan: This is a new environment for my young friend. Please excuse his learning edge.
Cardinal speaking French.
Bennett: It is good to have a different opinion. Especially from fresh blood. Finish.
Tomas: First of all, I want to say that I feel very humbled and honored to be here. I don't mean to cause any trouble, but the itinerary I'm looking at has His Holiness on the South Side for less than two hours and has him on the Gold Coast for a day and a half. The people of these parishes are among the diocese's most devout. They may not have much to offer financially, but, spiritually, they are rich.
Woman screaming, murmuring, muffled shouting from outside.
Woman: Help him!
Muffled shouting continues.
Man: Somebody help him!
Woman: Got to go for help right away!
Angela: I wish there was something more I could do. Feels wrong to let her be in there alone.
Casey: I know my mom thinks I'm possessed or something. And my dad, who's usually the rational one, is, like, freaked out now, too. So... can we just do this quick and get it over with and tell them both there's nothing to worry about, okay?
Tomas: Okay. Um... Casey, the night I came to your home, do you remember what happened in the attic?
Casey: You... killed a rat, right? I'm sorry, why is he here?
Tomas: To observe.
Casey: Observe what?
Tomas: Uh... (in Spanish) Can you speak other languages? Can you speak other tongues?
Casey: Sorry. Can you say that again in English?
Tomas: Can you move that pen? Not... with your hand. Can you do that?
Marcus: Um... (clears throat) I'd like to ask you a series of questions, if you don't mind, Casey.
Marcus: I understand you're quite the accomplished athlete.
Casey: I mean, I'm not that great. I'm just... I'm okay, really.
Marcus: I think you're being modest. 'Cause I know that sportsmanship runs in your family. Although ballet, it's... it's more of an art than a sport, I suppose.
Casey: Yeah, I guess.
Marcus: The artist and the athlete. Let me guess, she's the difficult one.
Casey: I mean, sometimes...
Marcus: Do you garden?
Casey: Not really.
Marcus: The thing about gardening is, the more beautiful the plant, the more trouble it gives you. And the really beautiful ones, they're always fighting tooth and claw for attention. Sunlight, water... they'll soak up every last drop they can get, even if they have to choke the life out of every other plant in that box. That's your top layer. Then, down below, you've got your succulents. Sturdy, resilient, don't need much attention to survive.
Casey: Are you asking if I'm a succulent?
Marcus: Do you love your sister?
Casey: Of course.
Marcus: Do you like your sister?
Casey: I mean, yeah.
Marcus: But you resent her.
Casey: I didn't say that.
Marcus: Didn't have to. She was selfish and careless and her accident broke your family in half, and you resent her for it.
Casey: I... That's not true.
Marcus: Do you like your sister?
Marcus: And sometimes you don't.
Casey: Yeah, it's called having a sister.
Marcus: It's called being a punching bag, the one everyone takes for granted, No... the one nobody gives a damn about.
Casey: What is this?
Marcus: Boring, invisible Casey.
Casey: Go to hell.
Tomas: Casey, we're trying to help.
Casey: Where did you get that?
Marcus: Where do you think?
Music box playing.
Casey: You went in my room?
Music stops, clicking tongue.
Marcus: Seven years' bad luck. Isn't that what they say? Who gave this to you, Casey? Bundled away in your garish little music box. See, it looks like an antique, but it's quite cheap, isn't it? Lund & Tyler, 2003. What is that, a department store?
Salesman: Don't look at me. Look at them.
Marcus: Who gave this to you, Casey?
Casey: A salesman.
Salesman: Stop talking.
Marcus: See, that don't make a lot of sense to me, a compact for a tomboy.
Salesman: You were a beautiful girl.
Casey: I was beautiful.
Marcus: Not beautiful like your sister. So he must have lied to you to make you feel special. Did it work? Did this gift, this compact, did it make you feel special?
Casey: He doesn't lie!
Marcus: The man who gave you this, is he in this room with us right now? Has it hurt you yet?
Salesman: Get up and walk out.
Casey: He would never hurt me.
Salesman: Stop talking.
Marcus: Because it will.
Salesman: Tell your brain...
Casey: Please, can I go now?
Marcus: It didn't give you this compact.
Salesman: ...to tell your legs...
Marcus: It went mucking about in your head, and it took that form when you let it in.
Casey: I really don't want to be here.
Salesman: ...to get up...
Casey: I just...
Salesman: ...and walk out.
Casey: Please, I just... I just want to go home.
Marcus: I'm speaking now to the presence inside Casey Rance. In the name of God the Father, I command your response. (speaking Latin) What do you want the girl? (speaking German) Give me some sign of your presence. (speaking Japanese) When did you first make contact?
Wind howling, rattling.
Marcus: Why her? She's nothing exceptional. She's not like Kat.
Tomas: What are you doing?
Marcus: But you couldn't get the good one, could you, so you had to settle for this. Aw, look, now it's gonna cry.
Casey: I want to go home.
Marcus: Hope you're happy with this, your sad little consolation prize.
Tomas: Marcus, stop. This is too much. You're going too far.
Casey: I want to go home.
Marcus: Unless you didn't choose her. Unless she chose you. (speaking Aramaic) Which means you're weak. You are her slave.
Casey: (demonic voice, speaking Aramaic) I am no one's slave. This is by design, stay out of my way.
Marcus: What is your name?
Casey: (demonic voice) The boy sends his regards. What was his name? Ah, yes. Gabriel. The sound his neck made when it snapped. (clicks tongue) Like a machete parting bamboo.
Marcus: Hello, Baptist.
Casey: (demonic voice) Never felt more alive than when he died in front of you. The universe burst open. The eye of God dilated wide, and you were at the center of His disinterest. (huffs) No, I'm not the Baptist. But I appreciate his work.
Marcus: That's enough.
Casey: (demonic voice) Left quite a dent in your topside. All corn mush up in there.
Casey speaking Aramaic on video.
Egan: You've been busy, Tomas.
Tomas: The problem presented itself; I did not look for it.
Marcus: It's a possession. It vaults over the standard of proof.
Tomas: We believe an exorcism should be granted.
Bennett: The image is grainy; the sound barely audible.
Marcus: (laughing) She spoke Aramaic, Bennett. Are they teaching that in the public schools here? We've gone forward with less. Can you illuminate the auxiliarized one here?
Egan: This girl needs psychiatric attention. But I'm repeating myself, am I not, Father Tomas?
Tomas: If we deny her this, her life is going to be in danger.
Egan: Have you talked to Father Marcus? No, Bishop Egan, I have not. Take the girl to a psychiatrist, yes. But first, let my excommunicated friend interrogate her like she's in Guantanamo.
Tomas: We need to do something for this girl.
Marcus: Come again?
Egan: You lied to me, Tomas. I am very disappointed in you.
Marcus: From Rome?
Bennett: Your excommunication. The order effective immediately. You're to relinquish your collar, your right to serve Mass, to take communion.
Bennett: You pulled a gun on a fellow priest. You conducted an exorcism that resulted in the death of a child. You left Saint Aquinas without permission. You interrogated a mentally unfit young woman without the supervision of...
Marcus: This is completely different. The demon inside that girl knew about me in Mexico City. Do you understand? They're communicating with one another. They are sharing information.
Bennett: The Church is providing three months' resources for you to begin your civilian life.
Egan: The diocese would appreciate it if you would begin it outside Chicago, Mr. Keane.
Marcus: The string of murders on the south side of the city. They took the eyes, the heart, the liver, the genitals, the skin off the palms and the bottom of the feet. Why aren't you...
Bennett: Shut up! See him out.
Marcus: Yeah, I'm quite capable. Thank you.
Henry: So, uh, you seem upset. Was it... what did you want them to say? I don't know.
Angela: Well, they should have told us more about what happened in there. We're still her parents.
Henry: We'll do what they told us to do. We'll just try and maintain daily life for her, and keep things normal.
Kat: None of these look right. I can't believe you're making me go.
Angela: Kat. I know you're upset, honey, but no one is making you go. If it's too much, if you don't want to commemorate your friend, it's fine; we can stay home.
Kat: Her name is Julia. If you call her "my friend" in that little way that you say "friend," again...
Angela: What little way?
Kat: Your friend. Her name is Julia. Was Julia.
Henry: You're being unfair, Kat.
Angela: I didn't know I was doing it.
Kat: You know what's unfair? Committing an entire life to something that was taken away in 30 seconds. My knee is garbage now, okay?
Angela: Your knee?
Kat: You pushed... one class, three classes...
Conversation fades, sizzling, groans, breathing hard.
Tomas: I was looking for you all day.
Marcus: Last pew. Crackerjack work, detective.
Tomas: Are you drunk?
Marcus: 41 years of sobriety, poverty, chastity. More or less. I'm allowed the indulgence.
Tomas: What they did to you today, it was... I cannot think what you must be feeling right now.
Marcus: Right now it's a very pleasant spinning sensation.
Tomas: Don't give up, okay?
Tomas: This... this family is depending on us.
Marcus: What are we supposed to do about it? Do you think I'm the one that defeats the demon? Sad-ass little me, all by myself?
Tomas: No. No. Of course not.
Marcus: This is a vessel for the glory of our Lord and Savior. You take away that grace... I'm a man in a room.
Tomas: God did not abandon you, that was the Church.
Marcus: Oh, yeah, great. Let's fight the enemy with semantics, 'cause that will be a really fun way to cock it.
Tomas: Okay. I can do it.
Tomas: You can advise me.
Marcus: A surgeon loses his hands, you don't give the scalpel to the man mopping the floor.
Tomas: Teach me. Show me what to do.
Marcus: You want to help this girl?
Tomas: Yes. Yes. I want to help this girl.
Marcus: Observe. Do not interact. Collect your evidence, wait for the demon...
Tomas: That's just what I've been doing.
Marcus: No! Listen! You wait for the demon to manifest itself in full. We went too soon. You get unassailable proof. And don't you worry, 'cause that much is coming. Get your evidence, run to the bishop, and if you're lucky, he'll send someone.
Tomas: God put you in my head for a reason. Why? I don't know why.
Marcus: You know what happens if you defy the Church? You walk into that room without any skill, without any training, it's not just your career on the line, Tomas. It's your immortal soul. It'll take you. It'll destroy you. That's a ghost I don't want in my head. I'll not be responsible for you.
Tomas: Well, I'm not going to quit.
Marcus: Then you'll die, too.
Door opens, indistinct chatter.
Hey, Kat. Glad you made it.
Music: I don't expect much
Kat, how are you? Are you okay?
Music: Of anything from you . . . . . And if the rain
Music: Don't wash away . . . . . All the things you used to do . . . . . And I don't care . . . . . What I carry...
Fallon: Hey, can you turn the music down? Hey, ladies. Everyone, gather around. So... yeah. Julia. Gorgeous. Fun. Always losing her keys.
Fallon: Always locking herself out of her dorm. The most fearsome fouettes in the whole company. There's a big hole here. (inhales) Also, she hated champagne.
Fallon: I think we all know Julia was more of a whiskey girl. To Jules. Julia.
All: To Jules.
Woman: What is she doing? What is she doing?
Woman: (whispering) Is that Kat's sister?
Marcus: Shut up.
Kat: Please, just leave. Go over with Mom and Dad. You're being totally inappropriate right now.
Casey: Hey, you know my sister not only lost her best friend that night, but the love of her life, right?
Casey: I'm Kat's sister, by the way, Casey.
Kat: Stop it!
Casey: Hi! Yeah. Such a tragedy. True love gone. What a shame. I'm just grateful that my sister survived. Imagine if the car had swerved the other way, it would have been Kat killed, not Julia. And Julia would have been the one with the busted knee.
Fallon: Um, 15 minutes till curtain. Let's maybe have our guests clear out.
Kat: What the hell is wrong with you?
Casey: Me? Not a thing.
Fallon: Tonight's performance is dedicated to two women in our company. One who's gone, and one who's still with us. Julia Clark and Katherine Rance. We miss you every day, Julia. Kat, we're here for you when you're ready.
Music: Candle wax . . . . . Drips on the floor . . . . . Heat blows out . . . . . When you open the door . . . . . Where did our love go?
Is it still out there somewhere? . . . . . Is it achin' . . . . . In the cold, cold wind? . . . . . It's good . . . . . Candle wax . . . . . Drips on the floor
Heat blows out . . . . . When you open the door . . . . . Where did our love go? . . . . . Is it still out there somewhere? . . . . . Is it achin'
In the cold, cold wind?
Maria: Hell of a view.
Tomas: Mrs. Walters.
Maria: Sorry to keep you waiting. I was saying good night to my husband.
Tomas: It's a very beautiful view, yes.
Maria: It is.
Tomas: You know, when I came back to America, to Chicago... I thought that was an ocean.
Tomas: My sister said "No, no, no, that's a lake." So she took me to... to the Sears Tower to show me...
Maria: The Willis Tower now.
Tomas: I remember it takes one minute to go up 100 floors so in a certain way you feel it in your stomach. So we get off the elevator, we go to the... (clicks tongue) the... how you say, the-the glass...
Maria: The Skydeck.
Tomas: Yes. The Skydeck. And I put my head up to it, I leaned... and I saw a tiny piece of land. Michigan.
Maria: That was my family's glass, the Skydeck.
Maria: It's what made the Chicago Walters the Chicago Walters... glass that didn't break. You wouldn't think it was such a wonder, but buildings like this and... that, and those, didn't have windows like this.
Tomas: Um... I-I'm sorry. Why am I here?
Maria: I invited you. And you came. And I wanted to get a closer look at the man who choked on his own foot at the planning commission.
Tomas: This is for me?
Maria: For Saint Anthony's... and your not-depleted parish.
Tomas: (sighs) Too much... I... I don't know what to say. This is...
Maria: I write five of those a week, Father. If you don't want it, there are plenty of other places that do.
Tomas: Forgive me. Where I was raised... you give something... to get something.
Maria: It's a bad time for our city. We don't talk about that at "Second City First," but we know. (sighs) I said depleted. I meant forgotten. Forsaken. My husband is dying a very... undignified death down the hall.
Tomas: I'm very sorry to hear that.
Maria: He loves this city. He loves the Church. You caught the Walters at a sentimental moment. Do something good with it. Make me want to write you another.
Music: Come, come, come . . . . . . Come, come . . . . . Come, come, come . . . . . Come . . . . . Daughter . . . . . Come . . . . . Come, come
Daughter . . . . . Come . . . . . Come, come, come . . . . . Daughter . . . . . Come . . . . . Come, come, come . . . . . Daughter...
Henry: No, no, no. I'm telling you. Stay with Kat. I've got this.
Music: Come, come . . . . . Daughter . . . . . Come . . . . . Come, come . . . . . Daughter . . . . . Come . . . . . Come, come
Daughter . . . . . Come, come . . . . . Come . . . . . (fading) Come, daughter...
Bennett: Marcus. Get in the car.
You loved this afternoon, didn't you? Bet that made your year. Do you even care what's happening to that girl?
Bennett: It's not my job to care.
Nine victims, Bennett. Hearts, eyes, genitals, hands and feet. Materials needed to perform Vocare Pulvere.
Bennett: It doesn't take nine bodies to summon forth a demon.
It does if you're calling more than one.
Bennett: Can we have some music back here?
Lively orchestral music playing.
Bennett: Yesterday, I saw a man, a Christian zealot, immolate outside our hotel. The police found no accelerant, no means of ignition. The fire began spontaneously. His Holiness is a great and good man. This world would teeter without him. He shouldn't be coming here. Try telling him that, and he's more determined than ever.
Has the Church been compromised?
Bennett: I don't know. I'm trying to find that out.
Lively orchestral music continues.
Bennett: It's a shame you got yourself kicked out of Chicago. You have some friends in this town.
Bus driver: (over speaker) ...bus to Tallahassee, Florida, making several stops. First stop... Elgin.
First stop... Elgin.
Henry: You all right there, kiddo?
Casey: I'm fine.
Henry: You know, if... if there's ever anything you want to talk about...
Casey: I said I'm fine.
Henry: Because it was... it was a big night for Kat, and you sort of... Oh.
Henry: You sort of...
Woman: (over speaker) Next stop, Harold Way.
Punk: Yeah, baby!
Men whooping, shouting.
Punk: Nice dress. . . . . I said... I like your dress.
Punk: I'd like it even better on the floor.
Punk: Hey, hey, hey! Where you going?
Casey: Get off...
Punk: Don't act like I'm some kind of dick. We're just talking. I gave you a compliment.
Casey: Leave me alone.
Punk: Walking around in a dress like that, like you don't want attention?
Punk: Look at that! I'm just being nice.
Casey: Let go.
Punk: You want it rough, all you got to do is ask. Come on, baby, you know you want it.
Punk: You do. You do.
Men laughing, whooping, laughter and whooping distorting, echoing, laughter and whooping fading.
Punk: Come on, what's your name? Hey... Hey! (gasps)
Young Man: Hey!
Others gasping, man grunts.
Casey: (demonic voice) Do you want it rough? All you gotta do is ask.
Women screaming, screaming continues.
Henry: Casey? (yelling) Casey?
Muffled screaming, neck snaps.
Others quiet, electrical buzzing, woman sobbing, liquid running, splashing, music box playing.