The Witching Hour

The Witching Hour  

Screenplay by ANNE RICE

FADE IN:

EXT. A SCOTTISH MOOR - NIGHT - 1670 A.D.

Far off, a massive stone castle looms. Trees silhouetted an

the horizon against the star-dotted, qreen-purple sky. The branches of one tree seem to reach

for the stars...

TRACKING IN - the 'tree' is A HOODED FIGURE: SUZANNE - 20, golden hair spilling from her hood,

dazzling green eyes. Nestled in the folds of her cloak is DEBORAH - 5, scarlet curls, green

eyes glowing. She peeks up at the bizarre sky.

DEBORAH (a thick Scottish accent)

Mum - I'm so scared. Look at the color...

SUZANNE (a thick Scottish accent)

(entranced. soothing)

Deborah, be still. And listen...

(a beat. in a chant...)

Wind, you are a thousand eyes - but never seen.

A thousand caresses - but never touched. A

thousand voices - but never a word. Always with me,

never .......

DEBORAH

(fearful)

Mum... Oh Mum, God will surely strike us -

SUZANNE

Wind - I love you with that which is endless

within me. Bring me your eyes - your touch -

your voice...

A WIND gathers force, The grass sways. Leaves twirl.

SUZANNE

Send me your soul. Come to me NOW!

The ferocious WIND HOWLS. Trees bend. The sky darkens.. SUZANNE'S hood is whipped of her

head. A dagger of LIGHTNING cuts the sky open. Then - a sound, like a HOWL of birth.

A VOICE

(melodic. wondrous)

Suzanne, the door is open! Call me! Bring

me to you with a name!

SUZANNE

(ecstatic. shouting above the ROAR)

For the wind that lashes the trees that brings

you to your lover... You are --- Lasher. LASHER!!

THUNDER rocks her to the ground. Rain pours down.

VOICE

I am through, my love! I have come!

(a beat. joyful)

Lasher..

SUZANNE thrusts her arms out as if to embrace the wind. DEBORAH peeks out from her mother's

cloak. She looks at the ground - wide-eyed - and reaches out.

ECU - DEBORAH'S CLENCHED FIST

The tiny fist opens - a NUGE EMERALD glistens in her palm.

FADE TO BLACK FADE UP TO

DAY. ECU - THE CURVED RUNNER OF A ROCKING CHAIR

Rocking on a wooden floor. A large horned beetle skitters INTO FRAME - antenna flicking.

Above it, the chair's runner reaches its highest point - descends --- and just misses it.

WOMAN'S VOICE (OC)

(a southern accent. cool)

Do you see the lillies, Deedee...? Big as soup ladles.

TILT UP to a pale hand on the chair-arm. inside a faded pink sleeve - and UP to

ECU - A FACE, SKOCKING IN ITS MELANCHOLY VISAGE

A WOMAN - 50, a gaunt, shattered beauty. Not a flicker in her green eyes. Her hair is stringy

- in need of a wash.

ANGLE - THE PORCH OF A LARGE GOTHIC MANSION

CARLOTTA MAYFAIR - 80, cane in hand, rocks DIEDRE MAYFAIR on the porch. Her white hair is

pulled back severely. Skin tight on her skull. Green eyes keen and focused.

The house was magnificent - once: Tall columns.Stained glass. But it is a dying house.

Rotted wood. Peeling paint. You can almost hear it wheeze...

ANGLE - THE GADEN BEYOND THE PORCH

Thick. Lush. Huge flowers flourish. A flagstone walk leads to a swimming pool filled with

brackish water and lily pads. A wrought-iron fence encircles the grounds. on the other side,

the street seems like another world.

BACK TO CARLOTTA AND DIEDRE ON THE PORCH CARLOTTA takes a syringe from a bag and injects

DIEDRE, who shows no reaction. CARLOTTA feels her pulse...

CARLOTTA

We numb the body and the mind...but we haven't found

a needle yat that can prick your soul. That belongs to him,

doesn't it, my beautitul Deedee...?

A BREEZE suddenly rises. The trees and long grass stir. CARLOTTA smiles privately - and

surveys the garden. Something there, for a moment, behind the waving branches...?

BEYOND THE WROT-IRON FENCE

A MAN - 60, white suit, fedora and an ivory walking stick - comes down the sidewalk. He tips

his hat to the women, and walks on. CARLOTTA watches him go.

CARLOTTA

(dry. caustic)

Well, well, Deedee. Both your admirers have paid a call.

CARLOTTA looks down at the huge beetle -- and crushes it with her shoe. The BREEZE dies. The

trees come to rest. But DIEDRE'S hair still flutters, as if stroked by a lovinq hand.

INT. ECU - A PAIR OF HANDS REST ATOP AN IVORY WALKING STICK

The stick's top is carved into a pair of angel's wings. The left hand wears an ivory ring -

with a gold T set in it.

MAN'S VOICE (OC)

(an English accent. calm. sonorous)

Diedre was silent - still - as always....

TILT UP to AARON LIGHTNER (the white-suited Man who strolled past the Mayfair mansion).

AARON

..but there is no question about it she is dying.

WIDE OF SCENE - A MAGNIFICENT SITTING ROOM

AARON stands at a mahogany table, where a dozen MEN and Women - ages 25 to 60, elegantly

dressed - sit and exchange sober locks at his pronouncement. They all wear the same ring.

AARON

(taps his chest lightly)

Her vibrations were unmistakable. I felt them quite clearly.

(sighs)

Strange to think after thirty years...I shall walk by the porch

and find the chair empty.

WOMAN AT THE TABLE

What of the child, Aaron...?

AARON

The child's life will take its inevitable turn. (pause) we

will watch and wait... and soon - our waiting will be over

INT. CLOSE-UP - A PAIR OF WHITE DOORS

In bold letters EMEAGENCY ONLY - KEEP CLEAR

The doors fly open - PARAMEDICS barrel through, pushing a gurney with a bleeding WOMAN. We

TRACK behind it A WOMAN suddenly races INTO FRAME, into the gurney's path. The gurney veers off

- but we fallow the WOMAN.

ROWAN MAYFAIR

- 30, surgical garb and gloves, golden hair. piercing green eyes, stunning, focused. She

enters:

AN EMERGENCY ROOM

where two NURSES and a young DOCTOR flank a gurney that holds a BOY - 7, unconscious. ROWAN is

pure, efficient motion - in coumand. As she nears the Boy -

ROWAN

Let's have it. Fast.

DOCTOR

Parents say he - uh - fell -

ROWAN

Anybody got a BP yet...?

NURSE # 1

Seventy over ninety.

ROWAN

Pupils...?

NURSE # 1

Unequal.

DOCTOR

- and he seemed okay. Just banged his -

ROWAN

FAST.

DOCTOR

(a bit rattled)

uh - then he - be just -

ROWAN

(hovering over the boy. Stating a fact)

He just went out like & light-

The DOCTCR nods meekly- ROWAN raises the BOY'S eyelids.

ROWAN

Massive subdural hamatoma. We have to evacuat it -

right now.

DOCTOR

I'll tell OR we're bringing -

ROWAN

He's herniating! Forget OR. He's dead batore he's oft the elevator

Get me a trephine tray -

(Nurses shift into motion)

Anesthesia - stat! We need him intubated and blow down!

An anesthesia mask goes on the BOY. His head is shaved and iodined. A NURSE sets a tray.

beside ROWAN. she picks up a small drill. All ayes settle on her. She starts to drill a hole

in the BOY'S sku1l. Deeper. Deeper. And suddenly - blood spurts...

ROWAN

Get me a bolt...

A srnall pressure gauge is handed to her. She screws it into the BOY'S skull. Takes a reading.

ROWAN

Dress it. Get him to ICU...

As action goes on all around her, she steps back - and seems to take a breath for the first time

since she entered.

ROWAN

(softly. to no one in particular)

He'll be okay...

INT. A HOSPITAL SCRUB ROOM. MINUTES LATER

ROWAN washes at a sink. She looks up to her retlection in the mirror. A strange look - hard

to decipher. NURSE # 1 enters, untying her bloody smock. She grins.

NURSE # 1

So, doctcr - what do you see..

(Rown' gives her a crocked grin)

I see somebody spending nineteen hours a day in this hole.

(pause)

This isn't even your shift is it...?

ROWAN

(drying her bands. deadpan)

If 'd been home, I would've missed out on using the drill.

NURSE # 1

Take up woodworking.

ROWAR flashes a wry grin.

NURSE

(warm - but serious)

You just can't bear to lose one - can you...? you just won't

1et them die.

ROWAN'

(stares. smiles warmly)

No - I guess I won't.

INT. POV' - THROUGH AN UNFINISHED WINDOW FRAME. NIGHT

A view of the San Francisco skyline. FALL BACK to REVEAL

MICHAEL CURRY

- 40, denim shirt baggy corduroys, melancholy wisp of a smile. Gettle eyes staring into the

night. A drag on his cigarette. And he rubs the cleft of his chin with the tip of his thumb -

a life-long unconscious habit.

He is in the top floor of a renovation. The room is almost finished, carved moldings,

high-angled ceiling, random-peggad floors and huge windows. A stunning work of design.

MAN'S VOICE

Right on schedule, Mikey. Finished -

MICHAEL

(an intentionally overdone Tony Bennett)

'I left my heart --- in Ran Sanfriscio...'

MAN'S VOICE (OC)

(louder)

- in three weeks, tops, like it or not.

MICHAEL

(grins. louder - without turning)

'And the light's always onnnnn in Massachuaetts...'

WIDE OF SCENE

STU - 35, overalls, short, squat, dusty - stands at a table draped with blueprints - beer in

hand. grinning.

STU

Ve-ry funny. But lilk. it or not -

MlCHAEL

(hollerinq now)

'There is - a house - in New Orleans -

STU'S grin widens. He gives up and joins in:

MICHAEL AND STU

(screaming)

'THEY CALLLLLLLLL THE RISING SUN....!'

They break up in laughter, out of breath. STU joins MICHAEL at the window. they stare out at

the city.

STU

sooner Or later you're gonna run out of things to change. You

always do.

MICHAEL

(shrugs. looks round the room)

I just - hate it when they're - finished.

STU searches MICHAEL'S fact. His grin slowly dissolves.

STU

well - Donna made dinner tonight. so I gotta go.

(pause)

Wanna come..?

(MICHAEL shakes his head NO)

Gotta date...?

(MICHAEL shakes his head NO)

Ever gonna have another date...?

MICHAEL eyes him with an affectionate scowl. This is old territory. STU shrugs and gives up.

STU

See ya Monday then.

STU winks - and leaves. MICHAEL turns back to the skyline - staring - and sighs. His thumb

rubbing his cleft.

EXT. THE PACIFIC OCEAN. DAY

A sailboat drifts lazily on the flat water - its sails limp in the windless sky. San Francisco

looms in the BG.

ANGEL - 0N THE SAILBOAT'S DECK

ROWAN - in sweater and shorts - looks at the sky, searching for wind, and frowns. She strips

down to a bikini, stretches out on the deck and points her face to the sun...

EXT. THE SAN FRANSISCO COAST - A JETTY. LATER THAT DAY

MICHAEL sits out on the rocks, sketching a house on a pad. the WIND picks up, the surrounding

waters turn choppy. He draws his collar up. A seagull lands near him. MICHAEL starts

sketching the gull.

MICHAEL

'The soaring larks lift up aloft with them the sky that to our

shoulders was heavy. (grins) YOU like Rilke...?

The bird starts preening. A wave smacks against the rocks spraying MICHAEL. He looks around

at the sea and frowns. The WIND tugs at him. Another wave sprays him. He rises.

MICHAEL

Dame weatherman said -

The gull SCREECHES - and suddenly takes off - coming right at him. MICHAEL ducks out of the

way, slips on the slippery surface - and falls. His head strikes the rocks. A wave pounds the

jetty and sweeps him into the sea.

MICHAEL

falling in the water. Losing ccnsciousness. Being swept out to tea. His eyes closing. he's

going under - Sinking..

BENEATH THE SEA

MICHAEL floats downward. A stream at bubbles squirts from his mouth then they stop. MOVE IN

to his peaceful face. IN TIGHTER - into his closed eyes - and through them...

POV - SPEEDING THROUGH A BLACK NIGHT SKY WITH A ZILLION STARS

A fierce ROARING. Hair-pin ttrrns around stars - the cosmic Daytona 500. Racing toward a huge,

white-hot star... SMASHING through into - SILENCE. Freefalling through the richest, thickest

GREEN imaginable.

Then, seeping out off the GREEN, PHANTOMS -

shapeless - but the GREENESS is giving them form: SUZANNE with the emerald round her neck - and

DEBORAH - a woman now, with the scarlet curls - and OTHERS - drifting, saturated, gleaming.

Whispering, entreating:

SUZANNE

Go back, MICHAEL... Go Back

DEBORAH

The door, Michael. find the key...

SUZANNE

Help us. Do what you can.

ANGLE - MIHAEL. MOTIONLESS IN THE GREEN

suspended above a vast BLACKNESS. phantoms all around him. And MICAEL starts floating down

toward it...

SUZANNE