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by Joshua Turnbull (smellyjosh31@hotmail.com)

Rated: R   Genre: Horror   User Review:

A Lovecraftian tale of an 18th century man who travels to Anglesey, only to be assailed by a demonic presence. Mixing history, legend and dreams, he is driven to madness.

This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express written permission of the author.

CLAUDE, a nearly middle aged man roughly shaved with long
untidy hair, enters through the door of his house in 18th
century Britain stumbling wildly, apparently very drunk. The
house itself is eerie, the whole thing is built at odd
angles with dark green walls, and many corners hidden in
almost unnatural shadow. Claude walks up the strangely and
irregularly slanted wooden, uncarpeted stairs into the dark
upper floor. He opens a door to a room lit softly by one
candle and containing a bed in the far corner, around which
the light is glowing. On the bed is lying a woman, a plain
middle aged woman who will later turn out to be Claude's
wife, DESDEMONA. He approaches her and puts his hand over
her mouth, waking her up, but not startling her. She looks
at him with dull, listless eyes, as he takes a knife he
unexplainably has in his hand and strokes her chest with the
Claude awakes with a start, alone at a table in the corner
of a fairly busy pub with a faded grandeur to it, now an
uncosy battered old building. He draws himself up and peers
at the dregs of ale in his flagon. A lively Eastern European
CHERNOBOG with a strangely British accent approaches his
table with a friendly demeanour.
Let me replace that for you.
      (Looks up drowsily
       with very little
       that he even
       heard anything.)
Chernobog disappears and returns a few seconds later with
two full flagons of ale.
What name do you go by, sir?
Claude Cameron.
Well they call me Chernobog where
I come from.


      (Not particularly
And where's that?
The ancient kingdom of Dacia.
Known to you as Romania.
Claude makes a vague nodding gesture and sips his ale.
So what earns you your money,
I sell things.
Anything in particular?
No. I'm just freelance.
A bit insecure, isn't that?
God always seems to find me plenty
of custom.
So you're a wealthy man?
      (Glares at
       Chernobog with
       mistrust and
       takes a generous
       mouthful of ale.
       He speaks after a
       long pause.)
There are too many ill-meaning
people around here to tell you.
      (Not offended)
Sorry sir. I didn't mean to
pressure. But I happen to have
some information that may be of
some value to you. Specifically


Go on.
Well since you're such a pleasant
fellow, I'll give it to you free
of charge.
      (A short pause in
       which Chernobog
       looks expectantly
       at Claude, but
       Claude just sips
       his ale more and
       displays little
Word is North Wales had a bad
harvest this year. Not bad like a
disappointing space in the barn,
but a yield seven times less than
what was enough to feed just the
children and the elderly.
It can't be!
That's the word.
      (Shows a great
       interest but then
       settles back to
I'm sorry, I don't run my business
on word.
No, I swear it.
Then I'm sure parliament will
grant them aid.
Do you really think the wealthy
men who call themselves commoners
here in fair old London will care
enough to open the purse the
slightest bit for a few starving
Claude hesitates.


Exactly. Well the mainland has
been refuelled to a certain
extent, but a small island on the
Northwest tip has been all but
Precisely. Grain prices are so
high there, you could be getting
around five pounds for a
tight-fisted sack. Four pounds if
you want to be a good Christian.
Why are you telling me this?
I just wanted to help a man out.
I'm just a carpenter. I can't act
on it. Do you not believe me?
Do you not understand my
      (Raises a hand in
Of course. But if you're not going
to take the opportunity, I'll have
to tell others until someone
agrees to help those poor people.
      (Pauses in thought)
I shall follow your advice. If you
turn out to be false, your eternal
soul will be punished for it. But
now I shall assume you are not
trying to lead me astray, call you
a good and honourable man and ask
how I shall ever repay you.
If you happen upon me at any time
in the future, just refund me that


Chernobog downs the ale he hadn't touched throughout the
conversation and leaves.
Claude throws a last sack of grain on to a cart loaded with
similar sacks. Desdemona and their adolescent son, PAUL are
standing waiting to see him off.
Will nothing I say make you stay?
This is madness!
      (Claude ignores
You're going to put us all in the
      (Ignores Desdemona
       for a while
       longer but
       replies with a
       hint of
When this works, we will have the
money to live in a Grand House in
the country. We won't have to
worry about money ever again.
That's what you always dreamed of,
isn't it?
Not if it means losing everything
you worked so hard to get for us!
I'm a merchant. I wouldn't have
gotten us here if it weren't for
risks. Desdemona, nothing can go
wrong here.
Make us rich, then.


Claude approaches Paul and awkwardly puts his hand on Paul's
You can take charge of the house
now. Don't leave your mother to do
all the work.
Yes, father.
Claude kisses Desdemona on the cheek, pulls a cloak on, puts
on a tri-cornered hat, throws a pistol and sword onto the
back of the cart, mounts his horse and sets off for
Claude arrives in Cheltenham as the sun is setting over the
regal town. He travels through the town, observing the
well-dressed and well-mannered people enjoying evening
strolls. He arrives at a quaint yet well kept inn in the
centre of the town, ties up his horse and enters.
Claude approaches the landlord at the bar. The LANDLORD is a
well-built ex-colonel in his early sixties who defies
stereotype by being cheery.
Pardon me, sir, may I have a room
for tonight?
      (With a strong
       West Country
Aye. Is that your horse and cart
tied out yonder?
Claude nods.
We'll take him to the stable and
paddock at the back and secure
your cart. Have this while you
The landlord pours him out a drink, and Claude reaches into
his pocket, but the landlord waves his hand and shakes his


No, no, no. On the house, for the
weary traveller.
      (Snaps his fingers
       and calls across
       the bar)
Marcus! Attend to this man's horse
and prepare him a room. Tonight we
have a distinguished guest!
      (Laughs and shakes
       his head)
No, I'm just an ordinary
So tell me, if you don't mind my
      (Shakes his head
       and waves him on)
-why are you heading west with
such a large load?
I'm selling grain.
Ah, so you're headed to Wales?
So it's true then?
Aye, they've got themselves a
famine up there. Truly noble of
you to go and help those miserable
Welsh bastards in their plight.
I hear it's good money.
Then enjoy your stay at the last
bastion of civilisation before
milking those poor Taffs in their


Claude winks, raises his glass and takes a long draught from
Claude apparently puts that same drink down, but now the bar
is lit by candlelight and the night has come and Claude is
very drunk. He is sat amongst a large group of people who
are currently all engaged in the one conversation. ROBERT is
sitting across the circle from Claude and JACOB is sitting
next to him.
You don't want to go trading with
those Welsh folk. Bunch of poor
stupid bastards; the last time one
of them wandered over here, he
wanted to buy some of my fine
cutlery, but he didn't know what
to do with it!
There's an uproar of laughter all around.
Well, that'll explain their
famine. They've probably didn't
realise they can use wheat for
More laughter.
Is that why you're going there? To
teach the stupid bastards how to
stay alive?
Laughter continues. The conversation divides itself up and
Claude is left talking to Jacob.
Here, you better be careful around
the Welsh. They're a bunch of
thieving bastards.
Did they take something from you?
Aye. Broke into my home and stole
everything my family and I held
dear. Even my fifteen year-old


How did you know it was the Welsh?
It's always the damn Welsh! They
haven't stopped raiding England
since the time of the Saxons.
Those fellows in Chester got it
right. Shoot them on sight!
Nothing but a hoarde of vagabonds
and rapists over there.
The criminals there can't be worse
than the cut-throats and wreckers
in England, surely?
      (Steely faced, but
       still very drunk)
They still have my daughter.
Claude is distracted by a finger tapping him on his
shoulder. He turns around and does not recognise the person
behind him as Chernobog as his vision is impaired, and as
Chernobog's face is actually different.
Ho there.
Good evening, sir, and what can I
do for you?
Well, word is you're going to
Would you care to join me for some
friendly advice?
Well I can't say I'll remember it
      (Looks shiftily to
       around the pub
       and places his
       hand to the side
       of his mouth to
       whisper in
       Chernobog's ear.)


                       CLAUDE (cont'd)
I've had a few ales.
Ah, that's no issue. No harm in
trying, eh?
Well I can't refuse the pleasure
of your company.
They both go to a table at the side of the pub at which an
attractive young woman with long black hair let down
(ARMIDA) is sat. Her eyes never move from Claude.
This is my companion, Armida.
It's a pleasure to meet you.
Oh, it's more than a pleasure.
So you've gone to feed the
      (Expecting laughs)
And of course line my pockets at
the same time.
Ah! Not quite the Good Samaritan,
Well they're not exactly God's
chosen people, are they?
Too right!
Don't judge too quickly, they are
after all the natives to God's
blessed isle.


Ah, she'll make you think twice,
this girl. Sometimes it's easier
just to ignore her.
I don't think I could.
Of course not, you're a gentleman.
He couldn't be anything else.
Now this Wales business. I'll
assume with a venture this big
you're an experienced tradesman.
To a certain extent.
So you won't need any tips on
Not with something so simple.
Of course, of course. Now how many
times have you been to Wales?
This is my first.
But you don't have yourself a
I have a map.
I see. You may want to watch
yourself though. It's a tricky
country, you could end up in the
complete wrong place without ever
leaving the road.


A bearing isn't too hard to keep
You'd be surprised. They come
while you sleep and spin you
around so you can't remember where
the sun rises.
Anyway, I have drunken too much
ale; I'm going to take a piss.
Chernobog leaves the table.
Don't bother paying attention to
anything he says. His superstition
is just based on a foolish
concoction of bigotry and his own
avid imagination.
So you're not one for
Oh, you misunderstand me. There's
superstition, and what the powers
that be dismiss as superstition.
Like what?
I don't think you would
Well then, how should it be
Claude looks at Armida, intrigued.
Do you think that you hide your
thoughts and feelings successfully
away from people?


Yes... But what does that have to
do with anything?
Let me show you.
      (She takes one of
       his hands in hers
       and closes her
       eyes, stroking
       his palm with the
       fingers of her
       other hand. She
       pauses a while.)
You head to Anglesey
Well that's not exactly a secret,
is it?
      (Ignores him)
Your wife does not approve. You,
however, need to distance yourself
from her.
      (She opens her
       eyes and looks at
       him intently.)
Did you ever love your wife,
      (Hesitates, quite
You're a fascinating character.
      (Did you?)
      (Lips move
       aimlessly as he
       struggles for an
No. She once was pretty, I
suppose. But I made my choice.
You're an honourable man. But how
easily do you give into


All is blurred, unsteady and therefore unclear as Armida
guides Claude by the hand into his room, and lets her hand
slip away from his. Claude picks her up and places her on
the bed very roughly. They make love, shown to the audience
through a blurred collage, showing her animal-like delight
and Claude's new found excitement.
Claude wakes up in an otherwise empty bed and rubs his face
with one hand.
Strange dreams
Claude leaves Cheltenham on his horse and cart smoking a
pipe and looking contemplative and the camera zooms out from
his face, going up and behind him, showing the expanse of
hills and grassland that is Wales. He travels through a vast
plain of arable land in the early afternoon, and over a hill
strewn area at sunset and finally through rocky foot
mountains as night draws in.
Claude is stopped in a meadow with the road in plain view
and has lit a fire on which he is frying a small meal as the
sun has almost set. He is sat on a fallen log, smoking pipe
weed and becoming drowsy. There is a faint sound, most
likely of wind but that could be mistaken as a woman either
screaming or sighing in the distance. He is approached by a
man, UILLEAG, a plucky, bearded Irishman.
Hey! You'll not be safe fallin'
asleep so close to the road.


      (Awakes with a
I said you'll not be safe fallin'
asleep so close to the road.
Who are you?
The name's Uilleag. You're not
from around these parts, are you?
Not by a long way.
So what's the name, there?
      (Hesitates and
       decides Uilleag
       is harmless)
Come on, I'll take you somewhere
safer, It's a bit of a climb, but
you'll thank me in the morning.
But who are you? What business in
Christ's name have you got with
Aye, that's a fair question. I'm a
guide; I help people through the
mountain paths during the colder
months. Been doing it for nigh on
thirty winters.
But you're Irish.
And proud of it. I moved out here
as soon as I was old enough to
hold my own, I was tired of being


                       UILLEAG (cont'd)
a pursued catholic.
      (Flinches and
       looks very
What exactly is unsafe about this
Aside from thieves, there's much
to be fearful of, and nothing
you'd like to know more about.
If you've a mind to beat and rob
me, I'm armed and I'll not let you
lure me away.
But I wouldn't, for I'm not armed.
Claude looks at him for a while, then stands up and grabs
his horse's reigns.
Claude and Uilleag are camped with a fire going, smoking and
talking. Other than the fire, it is now completely dark.
So what is this place?
This is the chair of Idris.
And Idris is?
A giant. Beyond that, no one
really knows. Though the locals
here tell of his story.
A fanciful fabrication designed
for the sale of drink, no doubt?
Aye, it could be. But the legend
is older than any who still live.


And you know it?
How could I not? Do you wish to
hear it?
Go on. I need something to send me
to sleep.
The image fades away and comes back showing everything as
Uilleag describes it. The PRINCESS is shown in a white
dress, a slight woman who is merely a bright sliver of light
on a dark landscape with her CHILDREN as luminous specks.
The SOLDIERS of the warband are shown demonic and fiery
eyed, as if possessed, with hunched, almost ape-like
                       UILLEAG (V.O.)
Idris was murderer of humans,
animals and even other giants.
Some say he built his chair out of
the bones of those he slaughtered,
though you'd just to look at it to
tell it is clearly rock and
nothing else. The prehistoric
Britons feared him for centuries,
though many were still unaware of
his presence. Such people included
a twenty strong warband from a
kingdom from what is now Northern
England who pursued a princess in
exile after a bloody usurpation.
Driven by lust, they were, nothing
but perversion and corruption of
the beautiful princess filling
their minds. Every day they drew
closer to the princess, who was
slowed by her three children. She
ran until the warband's torches
showed on the horizon, and then
knowing she could run no more and
do nothing but hide, she hid in an
abandoned hut at the base of
Cadair Idris.


The princess finds a round, primitive mud-hut, which is
empty but for a spit over a long burned out fire with what
appears to be a stack of food at the far side and a small
ghost fence by the door.
                       UILLEAG (V.O.)
She hadn't eaten for days and so
went to search the food abandoned
within the hut. Amongst the rancid
vegetables and bread festooned
with mould, she found a piece of
meat that looked fairly fresh. It
was buried deep, so she grasped
hold of it with both hands and
pulled until it gave and came
The princess gives one final tug that sends her sprawling
across the floor, and as she picks herself up, hands still
wedged in the meat, she realises it is not meat but a
child's disembodied head. The world is morbidly still as she
stares in horror at it. She then looks at her children and
screams and fantically attempts to pull it off her hands. It
doesn't budge, and so she continues screaming. She finds the
ghost fence, knocks a skull of one of the poles and
repeatedly smashes the head against it in a panicked attempt
to remove the abomination. She eventually impales the head
on it, causing her to throw up. She nevertheless succeeds in
freeing one hand and finds a knife that she uses to hack the
head off her other hand.
                       UILLEAG (V.O.)
And so it goes that she went mad.
Whether she didn't want her
children to suffer a similar fate
to the one inflicted on the child
by whatever demon it had come
across in that hut, or whether she
simply could no longer stand the
sight of them, it is not known,
but she murdered them nonetheless.
Weeping, the princess calls her children to her and kneels
down to hug them. She then uses the blade she had found to
crudely behead them before they can react and she cuts their
bodies up.
The princess is in a wooded area by a wide brook, and IDRIS
is standing watching, barely concealing himself behind the


                       UILLEAG (V.O.)
She took the bodies of her
children and scattered them in a
stream, offering them up to the
pagan Gods as a sacrifice to save
herself from the relentless evil
following her. She cried and
chanted, and all her noise
attracted the attention of the
giant Idris, who at once thought
himself in with an easy meal, but
when he saw her, he fell in love
with her.
He watched her for an hour,
sobbing by that now cursed brook,
becoming so obsessed he could not
look at anything else. He didn't
even notice the warband running
through the trees until they
reached her.
A warrior leaps through the trees with sword raised and
malicious pleasure in his eyes, soon followed by the rest of
his warband, who begin to savage the princess.
                       UILLEAG (V.O.)
Filled with rage, he was, tearing
the tree that he was concealing
himself behind from its very
mooring in the earth, swinging it
with no care for what he hit, so
long as it was flesh. With it he
crushed nine of the most
bloodthirsty warriors of the land,
and resorted to ripping the rest
apart with his bare hands until
the princess lay lying, shaking
and cowering and covered in blood
and offal.
Idris murders the men thusly and approaches the woman, who
he notices rather than shaking is twitching. He pulls back
her head from her knees to reveal that her face has been
caved in by the tree in one of his wild swings, judging by
the twigs, leaves and dirt tangled in her hair and now
deformed and bloody face.
                       UILLEAG (V.O.)
He had killed her. He was filled
with despair. The souls that were
reaped in those few hours, both
pure and impure, came screaming
from the darkness of the trees,
their transparent faces torn and


                       UILLEAG (cont'd)
broken, in the greatest agony man
will ever know. They clouded
around him, entering his thoughts
and destroying his mind. In life,
he was in greater torment than any
soul is able to stand, and he
couldn't live anymore.
Angry souls - deformed, monstrous, spectral humanoids with
some resemblance to their former living bodies - roar from
the trees around the brook and scream at Idris. He blunders
around, grasping his head in anguish, eventually finding a
boulder which he uses to smash his own head in.
      (Long pause)
That is foul.
Do you see why I didn't want you
sleeping at the base of the
I don't see any reason but your
plain madness.
It's not just I that's mad, for
the mountain turns all men mad,
some with a cruel desire for
I think I should sleep now.
Claude is dreaming that he is walking through a forest of
yew trees that are growing so close together and at such
strange angles that he must really force his way through,
though in his dream state, he is putting in too much effort,
so the struggle isn't as necessary as it seems. After
pushing his way through a few gaps, he comes across an empty
grave barely visible amongst the dense, low drooping leaves
of the yews. At its head there is an eerie mist, which at
first appears dormant, but then turns black and condenses
into the vague shape of a cloaked and hooded figure


crouching. Perspective is then drawn up to a bird's eye view
of the forest to reveal a number of such graves, all with
their own such black mist.
Claude is lying with his eyes open, not moving under his
crude shelter when Uilleag wakes him.
Come now, we've got to move fast
if we're to reach the Menai Strait
before nightfall.
But it's only just sunrise.
Aye, but it's not a village you're
crossing, it's a mountain range.
You've at least three score miles
to go until you reach Anglesey.
Could you guide me there? I have a
fair bag of moneys that I could
give to you.
Of course, sir. I wouldn't want to
leave you to freeze in the
mountains. I'll take you to
Caernarfon and to the very man
who'll take you across the waters.
Can I trust him?
Well I trust him with my own life,
least of all yours.
      (Grins, to which
       Claude responds
Claude and Uilleag are riding on Claude's cart through great
majestic mountain passes of Snowdon.


I didn't frighten you last night,
did I?
      (Pauses and jerks
       his head as he
       snaps out of his
N No
Now you needn't listen to me. It
was merely a rambling tale.
      (Stiffens up)
It kept me amused.
You're a lucky man to have such a
stout heart. I was having
nightmares for three summers after
I first heard it.
Somehow I doubt that.
No? Well let me tell you, it shook
me more than any grisly tales of
witches and vampires I heard in my
childhood. You see, when I came
here looking for work, the locals
took me in to their public house
and bought me more drink than even
an Irishman could handle. It was
there that they told me, and maybe
it was the smoke that filled the
room or the gallons of ale or
both, but I swear I could feel the
souls of the dead groping for me
and crawling in their dark
You do weave a tale.
You didn't feel it?


I have no idea what you're
referring to.
Perhaps you aren't connected
enough with the spiritual world.
They arrive in the small village at dusk and head straight
for the tiny docking area by the Menai Strait.
What is this village?
Caernarfon. We'll go to the docks
and I'll find you the boatman I
told you about.
They arrive at the docks and approach a man working on a
small fishing boat.
ILAR turns round and jumps from the deck of his boat.
Uilleag! What can I do for you?
I have a friend here who needs
passage to Anglesey for his horse
and cart; do you think you could
give it to him?
I wouldn't know about that. Your
friends tend to have a habit of
bringing me trouble.
He'll behave himself.
I only kid, you're welcome aboard
my vessel any day, lad. What name


                       ILAR (cont'd)
do you go by?
Claude dismounts from his car and extends his hand in
It's a pleasure to meet you.
English, are you? You'll pay well
Ah, yes, I have money.
      (Pulls a small bag
       from his pocket)
You needn't worry; I was pulling
your leg. All I'll need is a bit
of help moving her.
Well that's very reasonable.
Claude tosses the bag up to Uilleag, who catches it and
jumps off the cart.
This is generous payment, Claude!
I see you're all sorted here. I'll
take my leave.
Of course. Thank you for your
I'll see you when you wander back
here in a couple of years.
Uilleag leaves and Ilar turns to Claude, putting his hand on
his shoulder.


Come now, I'll take you to the inn
and we'll leave first thing on the
morrow. I'll take you to
Claude and Ilar are working on the sail and attempting to
navigate the boat towards the open ocean. After a short
struggle they eventually make it and steer northwards,
allowing the wind to take them. The horse and cart are seen
still at the back. Claude sets down the rope he is holding
and walks up to helm where Ilar is standing.
How long should this take us?
About two hours. You just sit back
and relax until I need you again.
Claude heads to the starboard-side stern and swings his legs
over the taffrail to sit on it and face the land. As the
boat passes a small empty beach surrounded by small cliffs,
he notices a man dressed in military clothing set a small
rowing boat on fire and push it out to sea. Ilar speaks just
behind him, making him jump and turn around.
I'd say he's been fighting against
the American Revolution. The
soldiers from these parts have
always brought their dead back and
sent them off in this way rather
than give them a proper Christian
As Claude turns back to look at the man, he sees him with a
child in an expensive looking white dress, bound by the
hands and with a sack over her head. The man draws a rather
beautiful, long knife and instantly and quickly cuts the
girl's throat, spilling blood rapidly from the beach to the
sea. In horror, Claude turns away, but when he brings
himself to look back at the beach, all trace of the girl has
gone, including the mass of blood. Just the man standing and
watching the burning boat of his friend remains, and when
Claude turns back to the boat, he notices Ilar back at the


Claude has landed and is now travelling from place to place
and selling his grain. Despite success in trading, he still
seems unnerved, and occasionally gets mental flashes of the
sacrificing of the little girl.
A poorly timed journey leaves Claude arriving in Cemaes just
after dusk in the rain. He heads towards the inn, which is
down a dark, cobbled and narrow alleyway. He leaves his
horse and cart in a small, nearby paddock with an empty,
open stable, and walks down the alley. As he approaches, the
alley is taken with an unnatural darkness, despite the
yellow light coming from the inn, but this soon passes.
He enters the inn in a warm and cosy but ageing bar and
takes off his hat and his cloak. The barman, SIR is the
first to speak.
What can we do for you, stranger?
Do you have a room for tonight?
Indeed we do, sir! It's all ready
for you now.
Thank you.
Come, sit. I'll make you a drink
and you can tell us about your
travels. It's not often we get a
stranger in these parts.
No, I really must rest.
Oh, come on now, the ale will help
you sleep, and I'm sure everyone
here wants to hear of your story.
Claude looks around at the small clientele of about six or
seven people (DAFYDD, CEFIN, IFAN, DEWEY, BERWYN and couple


of others), including a smartly dressed black man slightly
older than him (GETHIN), who are all looking at him and
Ok then.
The clientele all gather round a large table in the centre
of the room and Sir brings a drink for Claude, and they
both sit down.
I am Claude Cameron, a trader from
London and I have come to Anglesey
to sell my grain after the poor
Ah! A saviour!
Yes, my grain store has really
stretched to its limit.
The grain's none too bad either,
I've had a loaf made from it
myself and I have to say that it
was the best I ever had.
Well you clearly haven't tried the
bread made by our Ifan.
If the grain's as good as he says
it is, I may as well be making
body of Christ!
Everyone laughs.
Here, I bet his London loaves
taste like soot.
Aye, it won't get the lovely salty
flavour it gets over here from all
the sea air.


I don't think that's salty air
you're putting in it.
Oh, you're a filthy bastard!
Everyone laughs and the conversation continues as Gethin
turns to Claude and speaks to him on his own. Claude is
surprised to hear that unlike the others, Gethin has a
well-spoken English accent.
I apologise for the crudeness of
my fellow villagers.
       reluctant to
       converse with
No, I think nothing of it.
Say, you're not interested in
history, are you? I'm the local
librarian, you see.
Yes, I read it at school.
Well you may want to stay here a
little longer. Llanbadrig church
was founded by Saint Patrick, you
Oh yes, what time is your church
service tomorrow?
Oh, we haven't had a church
service for about thirty years
No church service? But why? You
can't be suggesting Where do you


To answer your first question, we
haven't had a clergyman here for
years. The brevity of their terms
were increasingly short as they
kept dying. To answer your second,
those who choose to pray do so in
their own time.
Yes, dying. Some locals have
attributed the extraordinary
events to the presence of a black
stone in the church that may well
pre-date British Christianity.
Are you serious?
It is what some believe. Of
course, it is mere superstition,
an illogical convergence of two
somewhat related things.
So what did cause all the deaths?
Bad font water? Disease in the
chapel air? Pure macabre
coincidence? Whatever it is,
there's no holy man on God's earth
that will take the duty of this
parish after being told about his
Could no one be commissioned to
find out?
We simply don't have the time or
money. It could be untraceable. It
could be the legendary curse
placed upon this soil at the
demise of paganism.


The legendary what?
The legendary curse.
      (Snorts derisively)
Is this some fatuous local myth?
Please tell me what ridiculous
things you village-people believe.
Very well.
The picture fades away, displaying the Menai Strait in a
much older Britain, with CELTS fighting off invading ROMANS.
Celtic women dressed in wild clothes move up and down the
ranks encouraging their fearsome warriors.
                       GETHIN (V.O.)
In about AD 60 the ancient Britons
were fighting off the Romans in
Anglesey as the Romans were
attempting to eradicate their
ancient religion. The first attack
on the dark isle wasn't completed,
but under twenty years later, the
Romans returned and squeezed the
religion until it burst. The
druids were hounded and
slaughtered and sacred groves and
shrines were destroyed.
During the narration, a montage is shown depicting Gethin's
words. It is raining and the Romans are in the woods beyond
the Strait, spearing and hacking at fleeing people. They
move as a surprisingly organised unit for the terrain and
mechanically destroy anything man made that gets in their
                       GETHIN (V.O.)
One druid survived to reach this
village, the northernmost point of
Wales. He watched helpless at the
cliff's edge as the Romans carried
out their merciless massacre of
the people of the village,


                       GETHIN (cont'd)
including women and children. As
the Romans finished and began
advancing upon him, he concocted a
spell to blacken Britain that the
Romans would never be able to have
the Blessed Isle. He cast his
staff down onto a beach below that
remains there now, and he flung
himself from the cliff as a
sacrifice to complete the spell.
This again is depicted by a montage of brutal slaughter in
the village under darkening skies, with fires from the
burning thatch reflecting in the soldier's eyes. The
perspective changes to the DRUID's, and the front-most
soldier stops his killing after spearing a child, and looks
up to see the druid. Gradually, more and more soldiers stop
the killing as they run out of victims and form one solid
unit that advances on the druid; blood appears to follow
them up the shallow slope as they slowly trudge forward. The
druid then lifts up his staff and whirls it about his head
in a fearful display, the wind blowing through his ragged
clothes and free, long tonsured hair creating a great
spectral appearance. His eyes flash red with fury as he
thrusts his staff onto the adjacent beach, which flies with
great speed and lands at a slight angle, buried almost a
quarter of the way down into the sand. With one final death
roar at the advancing army, he flings himself from the
cliffs into the sea and disappears beneath the waves.
They say that God wept for that
butchery and abandoned the land
God would not abandon his people.
Oh? Tell me, do you believe that
this country is truly and purely
Christian one?
I would guess by the amount of
churches and believers, that yes,
it is.


No, not the people, the country.
The land.
What do you know of this country?
Where are you actually from?
      (Not offended)
I've traced my lineage back to a
royal family of Carthage, but I've
lived here since birth.
Yes... But... Anyway, the land has
nothing to do with it. Surely you
can see it has no significance or
So you'll admit the land is in
essence pagan?
The land is God's. He never left.
Well, that may be. But the seas
are constantly turbulent around
here. It's unnatural. It's a sign
of a lack of peace where the sea
meets rock.
What does that prove?
Is there any devilry here?
Well, there are three counts that
come to mind.
      (Still doubtful)
The first is of the staff in the
sand. All around its surface are
inscribed ancient symbols, and
those few that have been
translated are of no fair omen.


                       GETHIN (cont'd)
The staff itself cannot be moved,
and believe me, there are plenty
who have tried. The second is of
that man over there.
Gethin points to Berwyn, a scraggly-haired and skinny young
man in the corner, erratically scribbling a quill on a piece
of parchment. He was one of the men sitting around the
He writes tales of unimaginable
horror. He says he gets his
inspiration from satanic visions
of witchcraft, torture and hell
itself that he gets nowhere else
but this village. He writes of
vast caverns of unknown dimensions
and terrifying emptiness in the
unnatural shadows of which silent
but terrible rituals are conducted
by bodiless spirits of fiends. He
tells of humans who have become
unholy distortions of themselves
and have offered themselves to
dark and murderous entities. He
has dreamed of a demon that has no
substance, but exists purely as a
black emptiness that feeds off the
fear it casts upon people with its
cold, clawed hand.
He sounds like a regular madman.
And he may well be that, or it
could just be a seller's ruse, but
you wouldn't be as certain once
you experience the third count.
What? A weed that keeps coming
back? A malodorous house? Any
other explainable and
insignificant occurrence?
No, a cemetery.


      (Makes a mockingly
       questioning face)
A cemetery. Let me guess, does it
remind you of death?
It is a cemetery that has evolved
in five layers of concentric
circles, each shielded from view
from the last. On the outside is
the cemetery that is used now.
Further in, a ground prepared for
pyres and death rites used before
Christianity's victory in Britain.
In the next section is a still
used graveyard for criminals and
evil people. Beyond that is an
ancient burial ground that was
used before civilisation, and
beyond that, no one knows.
There seems nothing ungodly about
There wouldn't be, for I haven't
told you about the ungodly part.
You see, as one progresses through
each section towards the centre,
the more one is overcome with an
unnerving feeling. It is fine in
the outermost part, but this
increases to real fear and some
people have claimed to have been
pulled further by an intolerable
demon and have fled screaming.
They say the centre ring is an
entrance to hell.
      (Pause as Claude
       receives a mental
       flash of
That certainly is a demonic tale.
      (Stands up and
       tries to remain
I I must be off to bed now. I
thank you for the lesson
      (Gestures for


                       CLAUDE (cont'd)
       Gethin's name)
Thank you, Gethin. Goodnight. And
God bless.
Claude is asleep in his inn room, a fairly plain room, half
panelled and half wallpapered dark green with rafters below
an arched ceiling and no carpet. The lights are all out, and
so the only light is the very dim moonlight coming through
the curtains over one small window to the side of the bed,
the roof beyond the rafters is almost entirely in shadow, as
is the space around the door, which is opposite and to the
left of the bed, and most of the rest of the room. Claude
turns onto his back and opens his eyes fairly slowly. The
perspective changes to his and the room is shown with all
its shadow and unknown corners, in which ghastly shapes with
garfish heads and crouched, weed covered bodies can barely
be made out and seem to disappear. The door then silently
opens, with an even darker outside and a veiled and very
female FIGURE steps through. The figure's head is bowed and
its clothes are ragged, a black dress that reaches to the
floor. The figure slowly shuffles towards Claude's bed, and
mounts it at the foot. It lies on his legs and slowly crawls
towards Claude's head. It then reveals for the first time,
its black-gloved hands that reach to his neck and begin to
choke him. With strenuous effort, Claude manages to close
his eyes, and when he opens them again, it is a very grey
and misty dawn.
Claude has his hat and cloak on as he steps out the inn door
looking slightly puzzled whilst the morning mist slowly
swirls through the alley. He then sees a small crowd of
people around where he left his horse and jogs up to them.
What's happening here?
Was this your horse?
Sir steps aside to reveal Claude's horse lying perfectly
still on its side in the open rather than the stable, eyes


and mouth wide open. Its back is bent backwards as if still
in the incredible pain of its death throes and its legs are
at odd angles. A man Dewey is stooped over the midriff
examining the body.
      (Mouth wide open
       in shock)
YYes it is.
We're terribly sorry. We'd fix you
up with another but we've asked at
nearby villages and there just
aren't any going spare anywhere
around here.
      (Gives a vague nod
       while still
       staring at his
You can stay in the inn as long as
you like. Free of charge. We'll
try and sort you out with
something in the meantime.
      (Still staring at
       his horse)
Thank you. That's most kind.
We just hope you don't think this
is anything to do with us.
      (Snaps his head up
       and glares at
Well the veterinarian is looking
at him right now.
Dewey stands up from his position stooping over the horse
and approaches Claude, wiping his hands with a cloth.


Has he been ill recently?
Vomiting? Choking? Fainting?
No. None of that. He was perkier
than ever before it started
That's most queer. There are no
wounds on his body, he doesn't
appear to have any signs of
disease, except that his chest
seems pretty compressed, like his
organs have been squeezed down or
something. I've never seen it
Like he was suffocated?
That's probably how he died, but
his neck is fine, he just seems
somehow shrivelled or squashed.
Anyhow, do we have your permission
to move the body elsewhere and
bury it?
Actually, I'd like to examine it
first. If you don't mind, Mr
Yes By all means. Do what you
will with it.
Thank you.
By now most of the crowd has dispersed, except Dewey and
Sir, who are loading the body onto the back of a cart and
Gethin, who approaches Claude, who is watching the body
being taken away.
I'm truly sorry, Mr Cameron.


      (Waves his hand in
No, no. Misfortune strikes us all
from time to time. And call me
Very well, Claude. I just wish I
could do something to make up for
      (Looks vaguely
       suspiciously at
What do you plan to do now?
I plan to do what I came here to
do. I'm going to sell.
Desdemona is lying in bed with a high fever with Paul knelt
at her side, holding her hand and a DOCTOR is leaning over
her head. The doctor stands up and addresses Paul.
This is a serious fever. It seems
like she's been infected by a
miasma. In this situation, most
people don't live to recover.
      (Looks from the
       doctor to his
       mother in shock)
Take me to find your father.


No. I must insist that you stay in
bed. Rest is the only chance
you'll get to recover.
I'm not going to recover. Paul,
I need to speak to him one last
But, Mother
      (Weakly raises a
       hand to silence
No. I must see my husband to make
peace I cannot die and leave the
last memory of me for him being
an argument. I do love him.
      (Looks into his
       mother's pleading
       eyes, then up at
       the doctor and
Yes. I'll saddle up my horse and
we'll ride out to find him. We'll
be there in three days.
Paul is on a horse, cloaked, with his mother riding in front
of him wrapped up in a blanket. The horse is pounding down
the road at full pace, kicking up a large cloud of dust.
A similar clientele to the night before are scattered around
the pub, with Berwyn sitting as before on a small table in
the corner, scribbling away at a parchment. Claude
approaches him and he slowly comes to a halt in his writing
and looks up.
May I sit here?


By all means. Are you interested
in my stories?
Indeed I am.
      (Sits down)
I hear you receive your
inspirations from the devil.
Aye, that's the claim.
So it's not true?
Who knows? It feels like Satan
that gives me those terrible
visions, but it could just be
regular dreams. It might be that
have a rather flamboyant
      (Leans over the
       table and grins)
I could just be touched in the
Does no one persecute you for
being in league with the devil?
Oh, no. They're all very good to
me in this village. And I wouldn't
say I'm in league with the devil
Then what are you, a hapless
I could be! But more likely I just
stumbled across some hideous
secret plans in my dream
wanderings that no man should ever
see. I could be dreaming what has
already happened or what may be
looming in the future.


These just sound like mere dreams
as we all get.
No, they're not, for I do not need
to be asleep to see them. And the
sounds of them stay with me
constantly. Bitter screams,
murderers' growling laughs and the
sighing and weeping of ages of
forgotten ghosts. Of course, once
I leave this village, it all
fades, only to return when I do.
      (Growing appalled)
Does this not scare you? Do you
not live in constant fear of these
Every man lives in constant fear
of some demons, plague or a greedy
landlord, and yes, when I was a
boy I could never sleep for fear
of those imaginary demons becoming
a physical realisation and taking
me away or destroying me, but as I
got older, I managed to breach the
fear and live with it. The visions
have gotten worse as I have gotten
older, but I just cannot be overly
frightened anymore.
It just makes life a lot more
There is a long pause as Claude looks at Berwyn with a
mixture of concern, disapproval and fear as Berwyn giggles
into his ale and takes a long draught.
Do you want to hear a story?
I'm not sure I want to consider
it; you seem all too comfortable
with darkness.
Ah come now, I'll try not to scare
you too much.


No, I really must be-
Come on, I'll buy you a drink.
      (Opens his mouth
       as if to speak
       but stops himself
       and hesitates)
Alright then.
      (Looks at the bar
       and shouts)
Sir! Another ale over here!
Sir brings a pint of ale to the table and leaves. Berwyn
and Claude lean in to the table and the image changes to a
fairly large castle in medieval northeastern England and
Berwyn provides the voice over, describing the events in a
low voice. The events are shown as he describes them.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
In the 13th century, an old Lord
living in Dunstanburgh castle was
granted a great gift by God. His
barren wife brought forth a child.
It cost him a great price and his
wife died from the birth, but the
Lord still praised God for the
daughter he was given, and he
raised her with great love and was
always a doting father.
This is depicted by the LORD holding his DAUGHTER just after
birth with glassy eyes.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
The girl grew up happy and
playful, full of vigour and a
picture of health.
The old man watches as his child dances and plays in a white
dress in a long-grass field.


                       BERWYN (V.O.)
As she was becoming a fully-grown
woman, she fell sick. A great
gloom was cast over the castle. A
gloom that was seemingly physical
as well as being created by the
sadness of the castle's
inhabitants. The gloom grew as the
beautiful young woman began to
deteriorate. Lines grew on her
face, her skin paled and looked to
be turning grey and her full, long
head of dark hair began to grow
thinner and lose its colour, and
so the gloom ever deepened.
The gloom is depicted by an ever-present mist and grey sky
and a blackening of the castle walls. Tapestries begin to
fade and rot. The torches around the castle glow with a
darker and more ominous fire and food looks less succulent.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
The good old Lord came into his
daughter's chambers one night to
watch over her during her sleep,
and as he pulled the curtain
around her bed, he saw the
moonlight fall upon a young,
healthy face, just like that he
remembered from before she was
sick. As he stroked her face to
check if the moonlight was
deceiving him, her eyes flickered
open and she smiled. The Lord was
overwhelmed with joy, and the
woman leapt from her bed, plucked
a torch from the wall and ran
through the castle and out into
the neighbouring fields.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
Her father called several guards
and gave chase, but stopped when
they got outside and saw the young
woman twirling and skipping with
joy. She was heading to the nearby
forest and one guard suggested
retrieving her, but the Lord
insisted that the guards were only
to look for her when they couldn't


                       BERWYN (cont'd)
see the light from her now
fairy-like torch.
So the guards watched the dancing
light grow dimmer and dimmer in
the forest, and the gloom that had
ebbed but not disappeared entirely
soon enveloped the light and it
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
The guards all then ran to the
forest and fanned out to look for
her. After an hour of searching,
she was found asleep against the
boughs of an old and mighty oak
tree with a look of pure serenity
on her face, which was directed
firmly forwards and above her. The
young guard who found her was
struck by her beauty and felt
awkward waking her up. He
eventually summoned the courage
and shook her, but she did not
wake. He shook her more roughly,
and still she didn't wake, but she
still stared fixedly at the point
in front of her. After several
attempts, he realised no force he
was willing to exert would wake
her, and so he called his
colleagues off the search and
lifted the beautiful woman in his
arms to take her back to the
Just as he straightened his back,
he was gradually overcome with two
creeping, ungodly emotions. On the
one hand, he was considering more
and more seriously caving to a
sudden primal lust and having his
way with her while she remained in
an apparently permanent torpor,
but on the other hand an ominous
feeling of imminent danger
provoked a fear first growling,
then shouting and screaming inside
of him. He was held in perpetual
possession, unable to gain any
control of his body that existed
on the three-dimensional plain as
the demon raged within him. An


                       BERWYN (cont'd)
eternity of visions of unholy
orgies, rapes and those detestable
spirits that goaded them on to
satisfy their dry and empty
perversions coursed through the
guard's assailed mind and opened a
dark chasm within.
The image is a focus on the GUARD's eyes, which then flies
through them to see a great chasm with walls of rock and
unfathomable dimensions. The image shows a plummet through
the chasm to see the demon rapes and orgies in shadowy
niches within the chasm's walls. The image then returns to
the guard in the forest.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
The struggle ended as he managed
to regain control of his limbs,
and he turned around only to be
confronted by a greater horror
than any he had witnessed so far.
A phantom hung where the young
woman had been staring with a now
malicious smile upon her face. A
great hole in space full of
hateful energy out of which
streamed hideous black rags of
foul and contemptuous ghouls,
blindly grasping towards the flesh
of the young woman and lashing at
the guard, who could stand the
torment no longer and ran towards
the castle. As he jumped through
the trees that bordered the field,
he noticed the young woman was
whispering in an archaic tongue
and kissing his cheek.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
The old Lord was naturally
overjoyed to see his daughter
again and for a while all
normality seemed to be restored
and life continued without any
significant events or unusual
occurrences. The gloom around the
castle remained ever present, but
as the winter months were drawing
closer, this was of no great
concern to anyone. The young
woman, however, made an extra


                       BERWYN (cont'd)
effort to quarantine herself from
the rest of the lackadaisical
population of the castle for whom
she increasingly displayed a
morbid contempt; she despised
their listlessness and every
appeal she made to someone's
imagination always fell on
uninterested ears and was diluted
by a retort full of every day
banalities. Secluding herself in
her chambers served to raise
concern amongst her family, her
father in particular, who was
shocked at being alienated in such
a way after nigh on one score of
years of a very loving
relationship. Now surrounded by
worthless advisors and jesters,
the old Lord had no one for whom
he truly cared, and the beginnings
of rumours of lurid bodily
congress between his daughter and
guards or maids of the castle
upset him further.
This part of the scene is depicted in the castle with the
young woman breaking a conversation with a middle aged NOBLE
by flinging a cloak about her shoulders and retiring,
looking irritable, to her room, passing her father as she
goes. He then walks through the castle, past pairs and
groups of people whispering and either laughing or looking
shocked in between glances at him.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
In truth, there was only one guard
who had ever entered her chambers,
the young man who had found her in
the woods, and while there were
occasional sounds of delight and
pleasure emanating from behind the
doors, no one had ever caught the
two of them doing anything more
than talking or playing games.
Though this was not proper, the
old Lord believed they were merely
becoming firm friends and took no
action to prevent their apparent
companionship. The senior
inhabitants did notice a puzzling
reluctance amongst the usually
garrulous younger maids to
converse shortly after the Lord's


                       BERWYN (cont'd)
daughter's miracle recovery, but
within a couple of months this
tension gave way to even more
intimate dialogue than usual.
Yelps of delight come from a closed door, an OLDER MAID
hears them, runs into the room to find them both sitting on
the floor, fully clothed and laughing. This then changes to
elsewhere in the castle where two young maids pass each
other in the hallway avoiding eye contact, then repeating
the scene from the opposite angle but this time the maids
talk and smile at each other, with plenty of contact.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
One incident did cause a certain
wave of rumour and gossip around
the castle. Whilst strolling in
the grounds around the woods, the
old Lord came across two maids of
a similar age to his daughter half
naked and oblivious to their
intruding company because they
were engrossed in a passionate
kiss. Standing dumbfounded, the
old man was soon joined by a
resident aging dame who announced
her presence with a charge of
immorality followed by a lecture
on how ladies should behave.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
That evening, the old Lord's
daughter showed her beaming face
at supper for the first time in
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
At the turn of the year of our
Lord, 1245, all fears of devilry
amongst the more superstitious of
the inhabitants of the castle came
to pass, for the old Lord's
daughter had been engaging in
sexual congress with the young
guard. Appearing as a fragile
woman in need of protection she
had seduced him and offered


                       BERWYN (cont'd)
herself to him to cast a wicked
spell over his mind and render him
completely obedient to her will.
She had used the young maidens and
took their virginity for him to
further empower him and provide
herself with a stronger tool for
her impending malice. The maids
were stripped of their precious
God-given souls, and spent their
lives remaining in their satanic
depravity and were constantly
under the influence of an
unnatural lust.
This scene is a small montage, first showing the Old Lord's
daughter seducing the guard by drawing him into her chambers
with slim clothes and a wave of her finger, then jumping up
and kissing him once he's inside her room. This then changes
to a scene with the guard in the young woman's bed with TWO
MAIDENS and the bed's proprietor straddling him.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
But this was still rumour and it
was only on a particularly boreal
night that the castle was to
discover the gruesome truth about
the blackening of their little
Lady's soul. A spectre appeared in
old Lord's bedchambers, a young
woman, clad only in a white mask
that concealed her entire face and
depicted no other. It had an
argent glow lambent upon her bare
skin and its hair, an ensnaring
forest so dark that no light would
ever escape its arboreal depths,
fell about its shoulders with a
weightlessness that mimicked that
of the ghost it belonged to. It
approached the bed and delicately
stripped the still dreaming old
man, climbed on him and began to
use its body to draw out his seed.
He awoke, but remained paralysed
in an unreal state of mind, only
able to stare at the beautiful yet
deathly creature of another world
above him. As he felt his
dream-like ecstasy, another
apparition, a demonic phantom


                       BERWYN (cont'd)
withdrew from the shadows and flew
at the old man with a hateful
malevolence and tore his throat
open with a gnarled dagger.
The spectre in this is the old Lord's daughter and the
phantom her guard, and as the old Lord dies, they stand over
him for a while and then flee, hand in hand.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
The Lord's daughter and her
companionate guard were never seen
again, but it was tacitly known
they hadn't gone far. The forest
was enveloped with a new insidious
darkness and only the soulless
castle's maids would venture to
its lurid borders, and even then
not delve into its depths that
repulsed anyone with its menace.
The castle, now lordless, slowly
degraded into a state of creeping
anarchy, which wasn't helped by
the new pestilence spreading
throughout the crops and
livestock, and not unnoticeably in
the people, whose faces were
becoming drawn and sullen and
their skin grey and cracking.
Glimpses were caught on rare
occasion of three figures sat
around a fire that burnt black or
of a figure bent over, with its
face apparently gnawing at or
drinking from a large, oddly
shaped vessel. Each time the
latter incident was reported, an
individual within a flock of sheep
or herd of cows was found headless
and drained of blood.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
The degradation continued for nine
moons after the death of the old
Lord and seemed at its apex when
one night terrible screams were
heard from within the forest. They
were screams of the pain of a
blasphemous sacrifice, self


                       BERWYN (cont'd)
inflicted and flecked with a
grotesque joy. The screams lasted
hours, and when they finished, a
deathly silence swept the area for
miles around, and those that were
brave enough to peer from their
windows saw just what the screams
had been caused by. A terrifying
creature rose from the trees, a
thing of flesh imbued with a
spirit of the dead.
The CREATURE is a shrivelled child's body with bloody hooves
plastered in matted hair at his feet, bent claws at his
hands and ghastly wings that would have been vaguely
recognised by the young guard as the phantom in the forest,
though it is now more of a physical entity. It circles
around above the trees, through the clouds and dives back
into the foliage with an unworldy screaming.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
It was on that night the guard
There is a pause as the guard is shown strung up by his feet
and with his hands secured outstretched on a barn door as an
inverted cross. His throat is cut open and blood obscures
his face, though it is blackened, as he is now a charred
corpse, though a triangle of flesh is still burning with
hellfire upon his chest.
                       BERWYN (V.O.)
Engraved into the wood above his
body was the ominous message: 'my
work is done'.
Berwyn and Claude are at their table in the inn in Cemaes.
      (Pauses while
       Berwyn enjoys the
       effect of his
You dreamt this?


      (Lights a pipe and
       lifts to his lips)
Aye. Clear as I'm seeing you now.
You have quite an imagination.
Or the devil does.
Then you should need a lot of
Claude retires to his room, leaving Berwyn smoking his pipe
and chuckling to himself in the corner.
A similar scene to the night before occurs, in which the
garfish-demons now have definite outlines and move slowly
about the edge of the room. The woman enters as before, this
time with her face and bust wrapped in linen and wearing a
dirty white dress. She shuffles towards him again and climbs
on his bed, and when she draws level with him she stops and
hovers above him. A small piece of the linen wrapping comes
loose, and shows her eye, a dark, empty socket. Her jaw then
widens in an almost silent scream, and she lifts her head
up. When she draws it down again, her eye is shown again,
this time a bloodshot, yellow, fiery eye.
Claude is wandering aimlessly around the village on a
remarkably more pleasant day than the day before when Dewey
Ah, Mr Cameron, I've examined your


His lungs collapsed. Rare, but not
unheard of. I'd personally never
seen a case of it in my time of
What caused it?
Your guess is as good as mine, it
is unusual for something to die
without previous signs of
sickness, but I can't see anything
to be concerned about.
      (Looks puzzled for
       a moment, then
       his face drops)
Well, Thankyou anyway.
Aye, it's no problem.
I haven't had a patient in quite a
As Dewey is talking, Claude notices a horseman approaching
on the road.
Is that someone you know?
      (Squints at the
       horseman and
       suddenly realises)
Why, that's-
Claude doesn't get to hear whom this mystery horseman is as
Dewey runs away, soon to return with Sir and a number of
other people following. They bustle around Claude, half
concealing him and watch as the horseman approaches. The
horseman is soon recognised as a military man, though Claude
soon recognises him as the soldier from the beach on the way
to Rhosneigr. The man is BLEDDYN, a stony-faced man adorned
with a couple of medals and plenty of scars. He arrives and
jumps from his horse to face Sir, who is beaming at him.
Bleddyn! My son!


      (Remains serious
       and speaks in a
       low voice)
How is the war against those
troublesome yanks?
It is failing. It won't be long
before a new independent nation
arises. And then they won't just
be troublesome.
Well how fairs your brother,
Ah. I thought so. How did he die?
Like he should have. With rage in
his heart and enemies on his
      (A pause,
       villagers look
Our encampment in the forest was
besieged by a poorly led legion of
yanks in the early morning. They
outnumbered us five to one, but we
were prepared for such an attack,
and there was little fear amongst
A flashback is shown of the forests of Maryland on a foggy
morning as a small British camp is attacked by a large
detachment of AMERICAN SOLDIERS. There are some Union Jacks
in the camp, but the majority depict the red dragon of
Wales. The BRITISH SOLDIERS wake to the American
musket-fire, loose haired and undressed but fully armed.
Bleddyn and CULHWCH are both there in full, hellish battle
fury and demon fire in their eyes. As Bleddyn shoots one


American and bayonets another, a third aims a pistol at him
behind his back. Culhwch jumps and bayonets him with a
victorious scream, lifts his musket up to cut down a
charging American and takes a musket ball to the shoulder.
He continues fighting, but with more musket balls striking
him, eventually dies with a final thrust of his bayonet into
an American. Bleddyn sees him and fights with more fury.
                       BLEDDYN (V.O.)
Most of us died in that battle,
for they overwhelmed us, and the
rest of us withdrew into denser
forest, where they dared not
Bleddyn and a handful of troops are shown withdrawing into
fog shrouded, darker forest.
                       SIR (V.O.)
What of his body?
                       BLEDDYN (V.O.)
I retrieved it later, at nightfall
and took revenge for him.
Bleddyn is shown creeping through the woods at night to the
camp where some Americans remain sleeping. He slits their
throats, each time showing a snarl and unnaturally furious
I sent him off properly.
Claude receives a sudden pain in his head, and grabs it
whilst hearing the sound of a girl being stifled in a scream
by having her throat cut. Bleddyn's attention is attracted
by Claude's sudden and fairly violent movement, and he
realises he does not recognise Claude's face.
      (Indicates to
Who is this?


Ah, this is Mr Cameron. He has
nobly come here from London to
sell us grain after the bad
Then it's an honour to meet you,
Mr Cameron. I am Bleddyn.
      (Approaches and
       extends a hand to
      (Stumbling and
Of Of course. Please call me
      (Takes Bleddyn's
       hand reluctantly)
By all means, Claude.
There is an awkward silence between the two of them, quickly
broken by Sir.
Well, boy, I'll take your horse.
I'm sure you'll want to get a
Yes, I am parched.
All the villagers peel off and go their separate ways, and
Claude looks at Bleddyn hesitantly and eventually decides to
follow him to the village pump. He hurries after him, and
when he draws close, it is noticeable that Bleddyn is a
giant of a man compared to him. Bleddyn stares fixedly
You said that you sent your
brother off properly
What does that mean?


He was a warrior, and so I sent
him off like one.
And how how is that?
By making him a floating pyre.
Reaches the pump, places a bladder under it, pumps with one
arm and drinks from the bladder.
      (Hesitates and
       steels himself)
And there is a ritual?
      (Glares at Claude)
And what business is it of yours?
Oh, I'm just interested, is all. I
have studied a similar subject. I
just assumed that there would be
some ancient rites that you
And why, pray say, would you
assume that?
No reason.
      (Continues after
       no response)
Just so long as you aren't hiding
some sort of sacrifice any grisly
      (Drains the
       bladder and looks
       at Claude
I have no need to hide anything
from an Englishman.
For the first time, Bleddyn shows a hint of a smile and
walks past Claude, who is left looking somewhat castrated.


Claude is squatted on a tiny, insignificant beach surrounded
by cliffs where the staff Gethin referred to stands. As
Claude is studying the symbols inscribed on the wood, Gethin
approaches from behind him.
Fascinating, no?
      (Grunts agreement)
Does anyone know what these
symbols and words mean?
For the most part, no one has ever
attempted to find out. I happen to
be able to read some ancient
language, but I understand little
inscribed here.
But these symbols are completely
confused. See, here.
      (Motions to
       Gethin, who
       crouches beside
These symbols are crude Latin
script spelling the ancient
British language, but here and
here are Elder Futhark runes!
Yes, I've never noticed that
before. How queer.
But why would a staff have
Anglo-Saxon runes if it was made
at least four hundred years before
they arrived in Britain?
And why would a Celtic druid allow
for Saxon text to be written on
his staff?
Well, it seems these texts should
all be spells. Spells of power or


You can translate them?
I am slow in my memory, but I
think I understand the Saxon
What does it say?
'Wden mororbealu se wac to
tgifan me eafo'.
'Wden murders the weak to give me
power'. Wden the leader of the
Wild Hunt.
Clearly. He is what we now call
the Grim Reaper.
It sounds like a fairly sinister
Hardly a spell, though, is it?
      (With a smile)
No. I'd say it's something much
      (Shoots Gethin a
       quick glare)
It must be balderdash. Look at
this. Latin.
Claude points to a Latin phrase.
'Orcus will rise to feed my savage
      (Throws his arms
Not a spell! Here it mentions the
Slavic God Berstuk, these Egyptian
hieroglyphs speak of Apep - there


                       CLAUDE (cont'd)
are Gods mentioned here from every
pantheon, all terrible and all
accompanied by some foul promise.
This makes no sense!
      (Suddenly smug)
This was some prank created to be
pulled on strangers, wasn't it?
These engravings can't be more
than a few years old; they're
still so visible.
      (Stands up)
Have you tried lifting it?
Claude starts to speak and stops himself, stands up, puts a
hand round the staff and pulls. When this is to no avail, he
puts two hands and heaves, glances at Gethin and heaves
There must be some weight buried
under the sand
Then dig it out.
Claude hesitates and then immediately drops to the ground
and frantically digs with his hands, but every time he stops
to rest, the sand caves completely back in, being dry an
unnaturally long way down. Eventually, the sand starts
caving in as he digs, and he begins to panic. He suffers a
flash vision of Orcus rising from the earth with rotting
skin, sealed eyes and grey drool seeping from between
rotting teeth. Another flash sees Berstuk in his insidious
forest feasting on the bones of humans and demons, another
sees Apep in his decaying catacombs as a snake, slithering
over skeletons. The last flash vision sees Wden (Gwyn ap
Nudd, Grim Reaper) with his slavering hounds cutting down a
completely unwary child. He is then kneeling and sputtering
and shaking when Gethin puts a hand on his shoulder to snap
him out of his fit.
      (With a comforting
This staff is no hoax. It has been
here since I was born and many
years before. Come, I'd like to
show you the cemetery I told you
about yesterday.


Don't worry. You needn't fear
anything there; it is a peaceful
The cemetery, as promised by Gethin, is a peaceful and
beautiful place. A stream runs the circumference, where a
row of beeches form a continuous canopy that is joined by
oaks and yews scattered around the rest of the cemetery and
form one large roof of now orange leaves through which
sunlight trickles. The soft murmuring of the stream, the
nearby chatter of birds, the orange leaf strewn floor and
the absence of any other people change Claude's wary
expression to one of serenity and calm as he follows Gethin
over the bridge made of untreated ash logs laid and secured
on top of two thick rails and lined with supporting columns
that provides entrance to the cemetery. Opposite Claude is
another row of beeches, two or three rows thick, obscuring
the other side but with a wrought iron gate at an arbitrary
point along the row. There is such a row at each layer as
described earlier by Gethin. The head stones here are fairly
disordered, but all point outwards, towards the stream.
This is where my family are all
Oh? Who?
My parents, my brother and my
Oh, I am sorry.
      (Waves a dismissal
       of sympathy)
No, that's long in the past now.
It happened when I was just a


Do you mind me asking what
Murdered. A passing stranger
didn't take to kindly to the
pigmentation of our skin. Luckily,
I was in the library buried deep
in a book and missed the
What happened to him?
You know Bleddyn? The soldier who
arrived this morning?
We spoke.
He heard the screams of my family
from across the village and raced
to the house, too late to save my
family but early enough to
dispatch the murderer with one
blow to the head with his fist.
There is a silence as Claude takes his hat off in awkward
He is buried in the area after the
second gate. I will warn you not
to go there, it is an unpleasant
place, to be overly simple and
      (Glances in the
       direction of the
       inner circles
       with an eyebrow
Do you mind if I explore a bit?
But of course. I'll be tending to
the graves of my family.


Claude nods and proceeds to wander around the cemetery,
making his way to the gate in the row of beeches while
Gethin visits his family's graves. Claude opens the first
gate into the second layer of the cemetery, devoid of graves
and with an ashen floor. The trees still grow here, but are
more twisted and gnarled, and the denser leaves make this a
darker place. Claude wanders around and notices a tree with
archaic carvings and moves to examine them. He barely has
time to kneel and read them when he hears a soft sobbing
behind him. He turns around and sees a young, beautiful
WOMAN in a greying dress wandering apparently aimlessly. He
decides to let her be, and returns to the symbols on the
tree, but after a short while, the woman wanders past him,
apparently lost, distracting him again shortly from his
study. He attempts to continue, and succeeds for a short
time, when a great wail comes from the woman, now a couple
of dozen yards away from him. He peers round the tree and
sees her prostrated on the ground with her head in her
hands, weeping and shaking quite violently. He runs
apprehensively to her aid, not realising that he has drawn
level with the break in the third row of beeches where the
second gate lies, and as his hand touches her shoulder for
comfort, she looks up, and with fear in her eyes, runs away.
Puzzled, Claude straightens up and watches her for a short
while before turning away, but while he turns he sees the
second gate and a sudden visual flash of a small black child
(Gethin's sister) being bludgeoned, alternating rapidly with
an image of the murderer's furious and delighted eyes sends
Claude keeling to the floor clutching his head and becoming
Paul has ridden into the village with his mother sitting in
front of him on the horse. He meets Ilar working on his
You there!
      (Looks up)
Have you seen my father come
through here? An Englishman off to
sell grain in Anglesey?
Aye. I suppose you'll be wanting a
ride over the strait.


      (Breathes relief)
Indeed. How much do you ask?
Nothing. It would be on my way out
to good fishing waters. Trying to
find him, then?
Well you'll be glad to know he's
made your job more difficult by
going from village to village.
I'm aware of that. I'll find him,
I always do.
Ah. In that case, I'll take you to
Rhosneigr where he started, and
you'd be best going north and then
east around the circumference of
the island. That's the route he
took, though I don't know as
you'll have much luck for a long
Thank you very much.
Claude wakes in the evening in a shivering, cold sweat on
his bed with Sir, Gethin, Dewey, Berwyn and a couple of
their WIVES (Sir's and Dewey's) carrying towels and bowls
of water standing around looking concerned. Claude attempts
to rise, but Dewey sets him back.
You'll need to rest. You've
developed a fever that may have
caused you to faint and the fall
may have aggravated it.


      (Wild eyed)
This was no fever! There is
something devilish about this
There's nothing unnatural living
here that isn't concocted by the
Do you remember how you felt
before fainting?
I was fine!
      (Resists Dewey's
       restraint and
       sits up)
There was a demon that came for
      (Unusually serious
       of face)
It is as Berwyn said, this has
been concocted by your mind.
You should not believe in such
fairy tales when you are ill. They
don't heal you or provide any
      (Now furious)
ME! You have allowed some great
evil to thrive here and any good
Christian soul that comes IS
The villagers look at each other with looks of vague
There is a lot of theory bereft of
reason in that statement. We lead
good, wholesome lives; there is no
evil except that which is brought


      (Looks at Gethin
       with rage)
You! You led me to these places!
You knew where the demons lay in
wait and you brought me to them.
You are a servant of Satan!
During these insults, and the stream of insults to come, the
villagers all remain calm, but concerned.
His soul is as pure as any that
lives in this village.
Then you are all imp-spawn! You!
      (Indicates to Sir)
Your son is a pagan, murdering
fiend and you've doubtless been
attempting to corrupt me with ale,
and you
      (Indicates to
You knew why my horse really died:
It was witchcraft! And obviously
you neglected to tell me of your
village's plot against goodness,
passing it off as a mere
unfortunate happenstance!
      (Indicates to
You fouled my mind with impure,
satanic thoughts!
      (Indicates to the
       two women)
You are devil-whores, and
doubtless it was you who wove your
morbid spells against me! May God
strike you down! May pestilence
and famine purge your sinful
little ghetto! May your horrid
lives be destroyed!
      (After a short
Maybe we should leave until this
delirium passes.
The group nods its agreement and files out, with Gethin
bringing up the rear. As he reaches the door, he turns and
speaks to Claude.


      (Testing, not
Do you really believe that God
would destroy a lowly people's
      (Glares furiously
       and spits)
Gethin calmly closes the door behind him to leave Claude
seething in his room.
A black horse with a long, straggling mane and glowing eyes,
dragging a plough laid on top of which is a coffin in a poor
state of repair draws slowly up to the fence outside the
inn, stops, slowly turns its head lets out a chilling and
ghostly whinny. It then trots on, seemingly disappearing
into the night just as Claude steps out of the inn door
looking disgruntled. He is dressed in a cloak and hat, and
is setting off on a midnight stroll to cool his nerves.
Claude arrives, after a considerable time walking, in a
barren field, teetering over the top of a forest valley. The
only thing in the field is a large, crumbling, ominous stone
Celtic cross that he then sits by. There are stones
littering the field, from which Claude gathers a small
handful and begins to throw them into the forest below.
After throwing a few stones, he throws one that then appears
to strike a bell somewhere below the canopy of the forest.
Intrigued, he throws another in the same direction and the
bell rings out again. Being unaware of any village he stands
up and walks down into the trees at the top of the valley to
Claude is deep in the forest, at the bottom of the valley
where a medieval church is standing, bell still sounding
softly from its peal. It has been long since abandoned by
those who last used it, and has fallen into a considerable
state of disrepair. Weeds, vines and other undesirable
horticultural organisms traditionally associated with
unkempt buildings festoon the outside of the church, and


have crept a fair way through the partially open door to the
As Claude walks in, he looks around at the interior of the
church, which is fairly large for its time and is made of
more stone than wood. Damp is everywhere, and the stones
have turned very dark because of it. The only source of
light is the moonlight seeping in through the open door and
a very faint orange glow in the distance that Claude has not
yet noticed, and as such the ceiling is concealed by shadow
and the true height of the building is unperceivable.
Claude approaches the central passageway, but decides
against it after hearing a quiet demon breath or ungodly
breeze. He instead opts to walk down one of the aisles,
looking at the stained glass windows as he passes. He
notices that in each window there is an image of what would
most likely be a saint on a dark red background, apparently
dressed in mourning with hoods masking faces and robes
obscuring feet. Their heads are all bowed, or in the case of
some of the saints, evidently decapitated in martyrdom, have
backs slightly bent as if their heads - not depicted
anywhere on the window - were bowed. Some of them have their
hands clasped in front of their waists, others have their
arms outstretched as if in offering.
Claude reaches and walks under the rood beam and passes a
large stone altar draped and barely covered with a faded and
decaying cloth to see a large, gothic design chair facing
the front of the church, where a small desk-like table is
set against the wall and from which the orange glow is
coming from. Coming round the side of the chair, he sees
that the glow is coming from a small candle burning steadily
on the desk.
It is just after seeing this that Claude is shocked by
seeing a figure in the chair, cloaked and hooded and slumped
slightly forward with a great bible open in its lap. The
only visible part of the body is the hand, long since
perished, with only a few sinews and shreds of skin
remaining. Unnaturally drawn to it, Claude reaches out to
touch the hand, albeit with great caution as he expects it
to move, but his hand falls to rest on the dead one, and he
peers into the hood to see a jawless skull gaping back at
him. He stands up and casts his eyes back over the nave to
see many such corpses that he previously had not noticed.
He is overcome by horror and the perspective changes to his,
apparently rising into the darkness of the rafters of the
tower above him. As things become totally dark, he perceives
demons reaching out to grab him and leering at him through
the gloom. This is illustrated by the faint image of
skeletal, white hands groping out of the darkness towards
him and sinister faces occasionally coming into view. He


then apparently drops back down into his presence of mind,
though his body has not moved anywhere.
He then runs in fear out of the church to notice that the
church is part of a crumbling village littered with the
hooded dead, sitting at doorways, on the edge of wells and
at the dusty windows of cottages, but not sprawled or lying
anywhere at random. Claude runs out of the forest.
Claude arrives back in his room in a sweat, locks the door,
throws off his hat and cloak, strips as quickly as possible
and jumps into his bed. His breath catches up with him and
he calms down and drifts of to sleep. He "wakes up" and
again, the strange dream woman comes into his room and
shuffles towards his bed, though this time her face is
concealed neither by a veil or linen cloth, but by her own
hair, matted with what appears to be blood or a dark,
viscous liquid over her face. As she climbs and crawls up
the bed as usual, her hair begins falling away from her
face, revealing her to look frighteningly like the woman
from the cemetery. With unblinking eyes, she stares with a
slight grin at Claude and bat-like wings unfold from behind
her. A profile of the couple shows the woman beginning to
rut on Claude, who is still paralysed and the wings
appearing to grow larger, embracing the two and forming a
cocoon as the image fades away.
Claude sits bolt upright and as he does the image of the
woman suddenly diminishes to black smoke that Claude
apparently doesn't notice. Sweat is now pouring from his
face, and he has turned white. He jumps up from the bed,
causing him to black out slightly, and when he regains
himself, he dresses, puts on cloak and hat, grabs his
pistol, sword and cross and leaves the room.
A horse's silhouette appears on the horizon of the road
leading into the village. It's rider is a ghastly shape
until the horse draws closer and the shape was a combination
of Paul and his mother, who is now wavering between life and
death. Paul rides hard, anxious to find his father before
his mother expires and the thundering of his horse's hooves
wakes Gethin, who comes out of his house to greet the
stranger, who passes without noticing him. He shouts, and


Paul wheels his horse around to approach Gethin and speaks
from atop his horse.
Has my father come through this
village? An Englishman of the name
Claude Cameron?
He has come and has not left. Why
do you wish to speak with him?
His wife - my mother - is dying
and has requested of me that I
bring her to this village to
reconcile with him before she
passes away.
Then we must find her immediately.
Come, I will show you to where
he's staying, though I warn you,
the last time I saw him, he was
suffering from a mild delirium
after a trauma to the head, though
he should be better now.
Thank you.
Sir is woken by a banging on the door and Gethin's voice
and runs downstairs to answer it.
      (From behind door)
Sir! Open up! Urgent times are
Sir swings open the door, slightly flustered, to see Gethin
and Paul, who is on foot and leading his horse by the reins.
His mother still straddles it with head bowed and no sign of
What's happening?


We need to see Claude. This boy is
his son, and this woman is his
Umm, yes, go ahead. Here are the
keys, lock up when you leave.
Sir retires to his room and Gethin and Paul run up a
different set of stairs to Claude's room. When they get in
there, they find it entirely empty. Paul glances at Gethin
who puzzles for a moment and then speaks.
I think he's gone for a wander,
and I know where to find him. Get
on your horse, I'll get on mine,
and you can follow me.
Gethin runs to the back of his house to a paddock where a
horse should be tied. He finds the rope that was supposed to
be around his horse's neck lying limp on the ground, and
turns around to a neighbouring paddock where another horse
is resting. He jumps over the fence, takes the rope from its
neck and climbs on top of it.
Forgive me, Dewey.
Gethin rides Dewey's horse and meets up with Paul, mounted
with Desdemona in between his arms and his horse's reins.
This isn't going to be as easy as
I thought; he's got my horse. Now
follow me!
Both horses ride off into the night.
Claude jumps off his horse on a road running through fields,
with eight-foot hedges above a ditch, dotted with occasional
small, sick looking trees on either side cast upon with a
deathly white light. At one such tree, there is a simple
pulley system connected to it at one end, and at the other
end, a large, poorly constructed, rotting wooden box.
Claude, despite disembodied voices threatening him,


approaches the box and pulls on the rope. As he does so, the
lid of the box lifts to reveal a putrid corpse a fair way
through decomposition lying on a bed of straw. Horrified, he
starts, and bumps into another such corpse standing directly
behind him, apparently of its own strength, but it doesn't
move. Claude scans the rest of the road and sees many
similar standing but motionless corpses dotting the road,
and a look through one of the hedges shows there are more in
the fields either side of the road. Two horses with evilly
glowing eyes approach from the distance, not altering their
course, but not coming into contact with the still
motionless corpses. They draw up to Claude and surround him,
and at that point he notices the horses are also apparently
dead, being ridden by cloaked dead riders with the same
burning eyes as their mounts. Claude draws his sword and
swings at one of them, which jumps out of the way, runs to
his own horse, which is unnervingly calm and rides it away.
The two horsemen are now revealed not to be anything
unnatural, but are Paul and Gethin, looking bewildered by
the experience, but nevertheless, giving chase.
Claude arrives outside the cemetery, jumps off his horse
with pistol, sword and cross and crosses the bridge over the
stream now running black, but even more so than a stream
would look at night into the cemetery. The indistinct
outlines of the garfish-demons are visible, perched on the
hedge amongst the trees opposite and atop some headstones.
Claude looks to the ground and sees that each tombstone has
a body lying directly beneath it on the leaves, not buried a
fathom under the ground as they should be. He walks through
this grotesque scene towards the first gate with the demons
around him gradually assuming more visible shapes. Gethin,
Paul and Desdemona arrive just in time to see a glimpse of
Claude go through the gate and follow him, now off their
horses. Desdemona is being supported by her companions, and
is now looking slightly better, and is able to move. Claude
walks to the second gate, and all the time the demons gain
more defined (though still cloudy), remaining still and
watching Claude go by. Also increasing as he walks are
insidious, grated whispers that sound very close and screams
that sound very remote. He walks through the second gate and
the whispering and screaming get louder and the demons
clearer, which reaches such a commotion that it tires him,
and he goes to rest by a tree. Gethin, Paul and Desdemona
catch up with him and as they see him lying against a tree,
sword and pistol in hand, they stop, and Desdemona attempts
to walk forward on her own. Claude sees this and stands up
to greet her, but with no amiability about his face. Once
stood up, it is revealed that Claude sees not his wife, but
the succubus from his dreams. Desdemona comes to hug him,


and flings her arms around him, as much for support as for
Oh, Claude, I-
Desdemona does not finish her sentence as Claude has thrust
his sword through her chest, and she looks at him
open-mouthed, with a great sadness in her eyes. Claude
remains unmoved, but shoots as a corpse comes running
towards him, arms outstretched. The corpse falls, with blood
spurting from its head and doesn't move any longer. The
corpse was in fact Paul, who is now lying dead, and Gethin
is watching in fear. Claude sees not Gethin, but a
motionless standing corpse and so after a brief glare, turns
on his heels to continue towards the next gate. Gethin
attempts to follow him, but sees the body of his family's
murderer standing on his grave, staring unblinkingly at him
but not moving. This causes painful voices in Gethin's head
that hinder him, and he struggles to move any further in his
pursuit. Claude reaches the third gate and walks through
into another leaf-roofed area containing a circle of great
monoliths that break through the canopy into unknown
reaches. Dancing among them is a woman in a pure white
dress, but as she passes in an out of view, her face changes
between that of Armida, the princess from Uilleag's story,
the Lord's daughter from Berwyn's story, the woman from the
cemetery from the day before and the woman from his dreams.
The trees opposite are now too thick to see even a single
gap. A hand touches his shoulder, Claude turns around to
momentarily see Chernobog's face before everything goes
black. All remains black as Chernobog's voice speaks.
      (Very softly, with
       soft reverb)
You are angry Claude. I can sense
nothing but hate in your soul.
      (Loud, rasping and
       cutting with tape
There is evil here!
Yes, it would appear so. You seem
to know much of its nature.
I was sent to destroy it!


You were? Sent by God, I presume?
Yes! I am his crusader!
Do you think that carrying a cross
devoid of love and filled with
enmity makes you a crusader? Is it
God's will for you to hold a
weapon against your fellow
It is not for us to question God's
Of course, but I am not
questioning God's will for he had
no hand in sending you here.
You know nothing! His message is
clear to me.
He did not send you. I led you
Why would God want an adulterer
doing his work?
I never committed adultery!
But you have dreamed it.
I I am an imperfect vessel.
Yes, so is it not possible that
you have committed adultery?


But you have.
What? What would you know?
I believe you met a woman named
Armida in an inn in Cheltenham.
That that was a dream.
You seem to be dreaming a lot
recently. You certainly aren't
sure about what's reality and what
is merely lustful fantasy. I
happen to know it was not a dream
for I was her companion.
At this point, figures start appearing out of the darkness,
very much in the same way and appearance as in the tower of
the church full of corpses.
ARGH! How dare you? You were never
there! It was a very different
I am not a normal man. You seem to
be admitting your infidelity.
Where is your wife and son?
I have not seen them since I left
No, you have not seen them. A
blanket of delusion lies so
heavily on your eyes.
You only just murdered them.


The faces of Paul and Desdemona appear as part of the
ghostly visions, their eyes and mouths stitched shut on
their gaunt faces.
Adulterer Murderer
You must admit that the only evil
here is that which you brought. I
scattered it on your journey, and
you absorbed it like cotton
absorbs dew.
I corrupted the daughters of
Cheltenham, I created the legend
of Cadair Idris, I inspired
Berwyn's stories.
I fed you malevolence to you
directly that you believed and
swallowed without rejection and
you hungered for more. The staff
in the sand, the execution of the
innocent child and this cemetery
you were so morbidly drawn to
until I could all but touch you.
And you had such an unwholesome
obsession with my dark angel.


The image of Armida appears and offers her hand to indicate
for Claude to take it and follow her.
      (Suddenly becoming
Gethin breaks through his possession and goes through the
third gate - the sinister voices and screams in his head
becoming increasingly tumultuous - just in time to see
Claude go through the fourth, head bowed, surrounded by
demons and a mysterious dark mist. As the gate closes, the
demons' attentions turn sharply to him and they watch him
chase after Claude. As he bursts through the gate, the
voices and screams fall completely silent. He is confronted
by a circular stone wall, twenty feet high and broken only
by the gate behind him with grass in between and absolutely
no other sign of life anywhere. The voices and screams
rapidly swell in a great wind of noise and after a moment of
standing dumbstruck, the demons now atop the wall begin
encroaching upon him, and he runs out of the gate and slams
it behind him, leaving the eerie courtyard entirely empty.


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