Creative Spirit with Screenplay Read online

  LILITH

  Don't worry. He'll be with you in spirit. Will that be all?

  Mason nods, already concentrating on the work ahead. He takes his tools from the satchel and spreads them across the table.

  He rubs his chin, steps back from the wood, sizing it up. He trips over some junk piled near an old set of shelves.

  He finds a painting and holds it to the light. It's a vivid reproduction of the manor. At the top of the canvas, along the widow's walk, is a GRAY SMUDGE.

  LILITH

  This was one of my favorites.

  MASON

  It's good. How come it's stuck down here in the dark?

  LILITH

  Maybe so no one can see it.

  Lilith leaves with the lamp. Mason props the painting so he can see it. Then he takes up his hatchet, psyching himself up for his work.

  MASON

  Come on, you bastard. This is it. Time to make Momma proud.

  A soft SHUFFLING in the shadows. Mason pauses and looks around. He shakes his head and stares at the wood. The hatchet's blade catches the lamp light.

  MASON

  All right, what kind of secrets are you hiding inside you?

  (voice rises)

  What do you want to become?

  (higher, maniacal)

  What do you want from me?

  Mason angrily sinks the blade into the wood.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. GRAVEYARD ON THE HILL—AFTERNOON

  Anna, on a walk, climbs over the metal fence surrounding the graveyard. Two HEADSTONES dominate, but behind those are some older worn markers.

  Anna stands before the largest monument, which reads "Here Lies Ephram Elijah Korban, 1859-1918, In God's Hands." Off to the side is a smaller marker that says only "Margaret. Waiting."

  Anna kneels over Korban's grave, closes her eyes, and presses her palms on the grass.

  Miss Mamie has been watching from the woods, now comes down and stands beside the fence.

  MISS MAMIE

  Anybody home, Anna Galloway?

  Anna jumps in surprise.

  ANNA

  I'm just taking a walk.

  MISS MAMIE

  Most of our guests respect fences.

  ANNA

  Only the guests that walk instead of float, maybe.

  MISS MAMIE

  (giggles)

  Oh, those silly ghosts stories?

  (beat)

  "Paranormal researcher." Cute. Is that what you put on all your retreat applications?

  ANNA

  It's as much of an art form as painting or playing music.

  MISS MAMIE

  Everything's an art. Living, dying, even being dead. But I suppose you know more about that than I do.

  ANNA

  All I know is what I see.

  MISS MAMIE

  And you see more than most. That's why we accepted you. What do they call it? Second Sight?

  ANNA

  You don't believe in ghosts?

  MISS MAMIE

  I believe in love eternal. Nothing is scarier than that.

  ANNA

  Love is one subject I don't know anything about.

  MISS MAMIE

  You will, if you live long enough. Enjoy your walk.

  Miss Mamie heads back toward the Manor. Anna looks at the other headstones. She is drawn to one that reads "Rachel Faye Hartley." Carved on the worn tombstone is a bouquet like the one carried by RACHEL'S GHOST.

  CUT TO:

  INT. SYLVA'S ONE-ROOM CABIN—DAY

  Sylva sits by her hearth, staring into the fire. She wears a ragged dress and a shawl is draped over her shoulders. Ransom stands to one side of the cluttered room.

  RANSOM

  I need something stronger.

  SYLVA

  Anybody follow you here?

  RANSOM

  Not that I could see.

  SYLVA

  What about them you can't?

  RANSOM

  They don't stay invisible no more. It used to just be Korban, and you only seen him in the big house once in a while. But the others, they been restless.

  SYLVA

  Lord knows, it's getting worse.

  Sylva looks at her wrinkled hands.

  Ransom fumbles in his pocket for the ragball charm.

  RANSOM

  This ain't working no more.

  SYLVA

  Charms are about more than just stoneroot and bear teeth and hawk feathers, Ransom. You got to have a little faith.

  RANSOM

  George Lawson had faith. And you see where it got him. Fetched over. He's one of Korban's now.

  (moves from the fire)

  What's got Korban so stirred up?

  SYLVA

  The girl. She come up Beechy Gap last night. She saw them.

  RANSOM

  Korban's already got her, then.

  SYLVA

  (nods slowly)

  She's gone and just don't know it.

  RANSOM

  Like we're all going to be, sooner or later.

  Sylva looks toward the door as if she hears something outside.

  SYLVA

  Just pray that it's later.

  They are silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire.

  Ransom moves toward the door, putting on his hat.

  RANSOM

  I'd best be getting back. Miss Mamie wants me to fetch some more wood for that sculptor fellow.

  He pauses at the door, fingering the charm.

  RANSOM (CONT'D)

  You sure you'll be okay out here alone?

  SYLVA

  You ain't never alone in Beechy Gap.

  The door closes. In the fireplace, an image of Korban's face forms.

  The fire reflects off Sylva's eyes. She touches her lips. After a moment, she spits into the embers.

  CUT TO:

  INT. MANOR BASEMENT—NIGHT

  Mason is sweating, shirt off. Fire roars up a nearby chimney. On the table, surrounded by wood chips, is a crude bust of Korban.

  MASON

  I don't know how you got here, you bastard, but you're damned good. Maybe the best thing I've ever done.

  He wipes his face with his shirt, puts his tools back in his satchel. He finds an old piece of canvas in the corner of the room and starts to cover the bust.

  Just before he does, Korban's wooden eyes twitch slightly.

  MASON

  (shaking his head)

  Four fucking a.m.

  (drops canvas over the bust)

  Sleep tight, Ephram.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. FOREST. MORNING.

  PAUL carries his video camera down a path. GEORGE’S GHOST steps out from the trees, surprising him. George has his left hand in his pocket and a shovel in the other.

  GEORGE’S GHOST

  Say, fella, can you give me a hand?

  PAUL

  Sure, I guess so.

  GEORGE’S GHOST

  Got something to bury but I threw my back out.

  (chuckles)

  Reckon I’m not much of a handyman, am I?

  George’s Ghost points the shovel handle into the woods.

  PAUL

  Dead animal?

  GEORGE’S GHOST

  Will be.

  PAUL

  (entering trees)

  As long as I don’t have to say any prayers or anything.

  GEORGE’S GHOST

  That’s all taken care of.

  As Paul turns his back, George’s Ghost raises the shovel and grins.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. ROAD BEYOND THE MANOR—DAY

  Roth is taking photographs of the wooden bridge leading to the manor. He works his way down the road until he is in view of the manor.

  Through his lens, the manor is distorted. Roth moves his eye away from the viewer and rubs his face.

  ROTH

  (under his breath, forgetting British accent)

  Christ, I should have slept a little late
r.

  Roth hasn't noticed Cris, who is sitting on a nearby stump, busily sketching the house. She stops working when she hears Roth.

  CRIS

  What did you say?

  Roth recovers his poise as well as his accent.

  ROTH

  Said I'm going a bit daft.

  CRIS

  Taking pictures?

  ROTH

  Pictures? Gawps and ninnies take pictures. Roth, me love, immortalizes the beautiful.

  (points camera at her)

  Let me make you live forever.

  Cris looks coyly away, but doesn't protest as he snaps a couple of shots.

  ROTH

  What are you sketching?

  Roth moves closer. Cris pulls her sketch pad to her chest. Roth takes the opportunity to peer down the front of her blouse.

  CRIS

  The house.

  ROTH

  Mind if I've a look?

  CRIS

  I'm not very good.

  ROTH

  The house is a bit stubborn. I've wasted two rolls on it already. You'd think—

  Roth stops talking as he sees Cris's charcoal DRAWING. It's of the manor, all right, but surrealistic, a morbid cross between Goya and Dali.

  ROTH

  Bloody hell, girl. Where did that come from?

  CRIS

  I don't know. When I was drawing, it's like the charcoal seemed to move by itself. Like the drawing wanted to be this way.

  ROTH

  Like hypnotic suggestion, automatic writing, and that rot?

  CRIS

  (slapping her pad closed)

  Everybody's a damned critic. Why don't you just go back to clicking your little buttons?

  Cris storms off toward the manor, kicking up leaves. Roth leans against a tree, watching her. A spider lands on his shoulder, and he brushes it away frantically.

  ROTH

  Blood-sucking bugger.

  Cris enters the house. The door is like a mouth that swallows her. Roth blinks and screws the lens cap onto his camera.

  CUT TO:

  INT. SPENCE'S ROOM-DAY

  Spence's face clenched in concentration as he types. Bridget comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. He flinches in anger.

  BRIDGET

  Honey?

  Spence ignores her, continues typing frantically.

  BRIDGET

  Jeff?

  He pauses, glances at Korban's portrait, then at Bridget.

  SPENCE

  You know not to bother me when I'm working.

  BRIDGET

  You didn't come to bed last night.

  SPENCE

  Did the typewriter keep you awake?

  BRIDGET

  It's not that. You need your rest.

  SPENCE

  There's plenty of time for rest when one is deceased. At the moment, I'm feeling singularly alive. So be a dear and let me continue.

  BRIDGET

  What about lunch?

  SPENCE

  I have plenty enough fat to burn.

  (mock Southern)

  Now why don't ya'll make like Scarlett and get yosef gone with the wind?

  BRIDGET

  Please don't be mean, honey. I want you to be happy.

  SPENCE

  Then make me ecstatic. Leave.

  Bridget closes the door quietly. Spence looks at the painting of Korban. He resumes typing.

  His sentence: "Go out frost, come in fire." Spence is very pleased with himself.

  CUT TO:

  INT. MANOR BASEMENT

  Mason and Anna stand in the work area. The log is propped up with lumber and wire so that Mason can sculpt it, like a dead crucified tree.

  The lantern and tool satchel sit on the table. A piece of canvas still covers the BUST. Wood chips are scattered on the floor. The roar of the fire is audible through the ducts overhead.

  MASON

  Thanks for staying. I wanted to show you something.

  ANNA

  I'll bet that line works on all the girls in art school.

  MASON

  I just want to be sure I'm not imagining—

  (lifts the canvas)

  —this.

  The BUST is finished, a flawless reproduction of Korban's head.

  ANNA

  Damn. That's good. Real good.

  MASON

  Too good. I did it last night. Something like this ought to take three solid weeks of work.

  ANNA

  You sure you didn't smuggle it down here to impress your critics?

  MASON

  Do I look like I care about what other people think?

  ANNA

  Desperately. And your subject matter was definitely designed to please the home crowd.

  MASON

  That's the thing that makes me wonder if I'm going crazy. I didn't choose Korban. Korban chose me.

  ANNA

  I think you need more sleep.

  Mason picks up his chisel, his knuckles white from squeezing it.

  MASON

  At least I'm not running around chasing things you can’t see.

  ANNA

  You poor little suffering artist. At least I know how to end my suffering. Exit, stage left even.

  Anna heads for the stairs. Mason goes after her, the chisel in his fist.

  MASON

  Wait. I'm just a little out of sorts. This place . . .

  (indicates the manor above)

  —and I haven't shown you the haunted painting yet.

  Anna reaches the bottom stair and turns.

  ANNA

  Great. Don't tell me you're a painter, too? I can scarcely bear the additional suffering.

  MASON

  Look, I'm sorry. There's just been so much weirdness going on here.

  ANNA

  Yeah. I thought I was screwed up, until I got here and started feeling perfectly normal.

  MASON

  This place gives me the creeps. Pictures of Korban in every room, the nonstop fires, all the talk about ghosts.

  (waves hand toward the bust)

  I hardly even remember doing this.

  Anna sees the painting of the manor and lifts it into the lamp light.

  ANNA

  Not bad.

  MASON

  (points)

  This smudge gets larger and smaller.

  ANNA

  I've seen this before. The mist, I mean.

  MASON

  Look. It's moving.

  The SMUDGE clarifies and breaks into ghost figures. The GHOST FIGURES begin to move. Rachel's Ghost is being chased by the others. The ghost goes over the edge of the railing and falls.

  The ghost figures dissolve and the smudge fades a little.

  MASON

  I didn't see that. Please tell me I didn't see that.

  ANNA

  At least she didn't whisper your name. Can I trust you?

  MASON

  Trust? No. But if we're both crazy, at least we have something in common.

  ANNA

  That was the woman I saw last night. She led me through the woods.

  The smudge returns to its original state.

  MASON

  No way is this happening.

  ANNA

  You still don't believe in ghosts?

  MASON

  I don't know what I believe anymore.

  ANNA

  They're being haunted.

  MASON

  They?

  ANNA

  The ghosts. Haunted by the living.

  CUT TO:

  INT. MISS MAMIE'S BEDROOM—NIGHT

  Lilith puts wood in the fireplace. Miss Mamie sits before the dresser mirror.

  MISS MAMIE

  Ephram always loved me the best.

  LILITH

  He loved me, too, until he drowned me in the bathtub.

  MISS MAMIE

  No. He only loved your paintings. I'm the only one in his heart.

  (to the mir
ror)

  Isn't that right, Ephram?

  The mirror does nothing, but the fire blazes slightly.

  LILITH

  When will he let us be dead for good?

  MISS MAMIE

  When he's used you up. You're here to serve, like all the others Ephram has killed.

  (to the mirror)

  Just like all the artists he summons here. Dreams burn just as brightly as nightmares, in the tunnels of the soul.

  Miss Mamie checks her skin in the mirror.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. BARN BESIDE THE PASTURE—MORNING

  Anna by the fence. A HORSE crosses the pasture to her. Anna rubs its nose and ears, whispering to him. Behind her, the jingle and creak of a wagon.

  Ransom and Mason come up the road in the horse-drawn wagon, which is full of hay. Ransom nods, Mason smiles at Anna.