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Hypnotic Doctor Sleep

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Picture a waterfall running into a beautiful, clean river.
You stand on the bank of the river.
Soft grass brushes against your bare feet.
The water is clear as crystal.
The sky is profoundly blue and everything is clean.
Now take a drag on your cigarette.
Look at the sky now.
You've poisoned the sky.
Now look at the water. It stinks.
Throw away your cigarette.
Now look at the water. What do you see?
You won't want to smoke anymore now.
Good.
- Thatís 150 pounds, is it? - Yeah.
Cash.
Yeah. I knew that.
Try to avoid things you associate with cigarettes.
- Alcohol, stress... - Sex.
If you get the urge to smoke, just clear your mind.
Revisit the beautiful meadow, the cool river.
But...
think only nice thoughts. No more...
little girls floating underwater, okay?
- Come in. - What did you say?
I have another appointment.
Come in, please.
Now, take a drag of your cigarette and look at the water.
- Look how dirty it has become. - I need to speak to you.
Look at the filthy sky. I'm sorry, I'm in the middle of...
Why did you mention the girl?
- You have to leave. - You saw her, didn't you?
- I didn't see anything. - A girl in a white nightgown...
underwater, in my head.
That 's amazing. That 's incredible.
You could help me. Something bad happened.
Now she won't talk. Not a word.
She needs to tell what, you know, happened.
I'm sorry. I just do cigarettes. Bye.
Is it lunch time yet?
No, it 's dinner time. And it 's daddy's turn to cook...
so you'll just have to wait.
Martha! Yuk! Yuk!
- Daddy! Daddy! - Hi, honey.
- Look what I got for you. - A doggy!
- Thank you, daddy. - How's my girl?
Fine.
Sorry.
Great. A toy that barks all day.
Only when you touch his head. How was your day?
Long. Lonely.
Nicer now you're here. Martha's starving.
Again?
- Guess what I'll cook for dinner? - Macaroni and cheese.
- How did you guess? - That 's what you always make.
"That 's what you always make!" Take this.
Come on. Come here.
What are you worrying about?
- Is it kicking? - Tap dancing on my kidneys.
I think I should find a new office.
- What about over a tobacco shop? - I'm serious.
Let 's save a little money first, okay?
It 's gonna be all right here, Michael.
- It 's just like home. - You think so?
It will be. When we get this place fixed up...
find Martha a better school...
make at least one friend. I'm kidding.
- I like the English. They're so... - What?
Outgoing.
Hello, Dr. Strother. Mind if I call you Michael?
- I'm late. - I'll walk up with you.
- Is it about the...? - No. No craving at all.
I gave you my final word about the other thing.
Why do you charge cash? Do you have a National Insurance number?
Does the Inland Revenue even know about you?
If you don't leave me alone, I'll call a policeman.
I'm a policeman. Policewoman. Police person.
You want to see my badge?
I don't care about your taxes.
All I care about is that yesterday you did two impossible things.
- Two? - I haven't thought about smoking.
I can't read minds. Nobody can.
Then how do you explain yesterday?
A feeling. Intuition. It happens to everyone, even to you.
You just don't pay any attention.
I'll pay you 5OO pounds, cash. If you can get her to talk.
You don't know what you're asking.
- I'm asking you to help a child. - I'm sorry, no.
Well, you will be sorry when I shop you to the taxman.
- So, where in America did you live? - Seattle.
- That 's a Seattle accent, is it? - No.
I'm from Europe, just like you. I moved to America1O years ago.
I'm not from Europe, I'm from London. Wouldn't live anywhere else.
This is where we're keeping her. Her mother's name is Grace.
She's not going to like you. Ready?
- No. - You'll be fine.
Hello, Keith. This is Dr. Strother, come to see Heather.
- Is she awake? - I've had no word about this.
No. Typical, ain't it?
Hi, Grace.
What 's this? Another doctor?
This one's special. Got me off the fags in one session.
A bloody miracle.
- How's Heather? - Same.
- Any words? - Not a sound.
I won't do anything unless you say so.
Damn right you won't.
He just talks. That 's all.
He won't even touch her.
I trust him.
Well, go on then.
- Could you...? - Sorry. Keith, sit down.
Hi, Heather.
My name is Michael.
Is this a new one?
Do you like music videos?
You know, sometimes...
the lights and colours act like musical notes.
See how the colours get brighter as the beat gets louder?
You can almost feel the music on your face, can't you?
And on your chest.
And the louder the music gets...
the brighter the colours get until...
they merge into one.
One great, white light.
It 's almost difficult to watch, isn't it?
Difficult to keep your eyes open.
Maybe you should close your eyes. Just for a moment.
Let them close. You'll feel better.
Don't fight it.
Just close your eyes.
That 's much better, isn't it?
Now tell me, Heather...
what do you see with your eyes closed?
Like stars in the night sky?
Millions and millions of stars stretching away to infinity.
Travel through them...
past them...
beyond them.
Now faster...
and faster and faster.
And now you see one very bright star ahead of you.
The most beautiful star you've ever seen.
And it comes closer...
and closer.
You feel happier and happier.
The light covers you up. Swallows you.
Makes you feel safe and warm.
And now...
you pass through the light...
to the other side.
To the place where you lost your voice.
Heather!
Heather!
Heather!
Where are you?
Heather!
Wake up. Wake up, Heather!
You talked!
I don't know what you said, but you talked! Tell me something! Anything!
Are you all right?
She's that girl in the papers...
...who escaped the Tattoo Murderer? - Yeah, well spotted.
I don't want anything to do with her.
Michael, you were brilliant.
- She didn't actually talk, but... - Just forget about me, okay?
- Did you see anything? - No.
Yes. I mean, nothing really.
Losey, it 's dangerous. If I screw up, she could...
Christ!
You're gonna have to tell me everything.
She was kidnapped from her home in Hackney 3 weeks ago.
1O days later she crawled out of a canal near Lime house.
She had bruises. No broken bones. No evidence of sexual assault.
She had quite a few needle marks on her arms and legs...
but no trace of any identifiable drugs in her blood or hair.
And no indication, yet, of any particular infections.
The only thing we have to go on, really...
is the tattoos. Have a look at these.
Mean anything to you?
No.
Not really.
What do you mean, "not really"?
We found traces of wicker under her nails and in her hair.
He may have kept her locked up in some kind of basket, Michael.
She's lucky she got away.
The other three dead kids were all tattooed the same way.
All of them died from catastrophic serological reaction to blood...
human blood of the wrong type, injected into their veins.
They were all type "O". Heather's type "AB".
So what are you saying? She's got the killer's blood in her veins?
Probably.
So, what did you see, Michael?
Nothing much. A face.
- Man or woman? - Man.
- The killer? - I don't know.
- Could you identify him? - How?
- Well, we can make a photo fit. - No.
So that 's it?
I guess so.
I haven't got 5OO quid.
I don't have to be a mind-reader to know that.
Stars in the night sky...
Heather!
Batteries. Where the hell am I gonna find batteries?
Moloch, Gog, Drammlach, Lord of the Rats.
Hear the darkness beseech.
Hear the Darkness.
The Fabric of Sorrow beseech thee.
Yield once more the Contagion of Woe.
What are you doing?
Did I wake you?
It 's 3 o'clock in the morning!
I can't sleep.
Two nights in a row. Don't tell me we're gonna go down that road again.
I'm just...
I'm thinking about the baby.
You promised if we went somewhere completely different...
I will be okay. Okay?
I'll be up in a minute.
- Take a pill, Michael. - I did.
Take another one.
What are his qualifications? Is he even a medical man?
Is he certified in any specialties? Do we know anything about him at all?
- What does he charge? - He's working for free.
- That 's pretty damn suspicious. - He got through to her. She talked.
Right. Why didn't you say so sooner?
What did she say?
Only gibberish, but it 's a start.
- Did you record any of this? - Yeah.
- May we hear it? - I haven't got it with me.
I was there, Chief. What Heather said didn't make any sense...
but he was very good with her.
And you have vast experience in this field, do you?
No, ma'am.
Only gibberish?
Your only remit was to look after Heather's welfare?
- What? - Yes, sir.
Yes, sir!
- That 's all you were asked to do. - Listen...
our experts on the occult can tell us all about zodiacs...
but they can't tell us why we keep finding tattoos on dead children.
6O officers have spent 17 weeks and 6 million pounds...
and all we know about this monster is he's certain to strike again, soon.
And you're gonna have to go on the telly again...
and say we know fuck all again!
- I think Losey needs a holiday. - I think you're right.
But...
I'm gonna allow her to continue, for now, with this...
Thank you.
On condition that you get me his full story.
- Home Office check, the works. - You won't regret it, sir.
- I'd better bloody not. - I'd like to record my objection.
Done.
You stole my tape, you bastard.
"Contagion of Woe, Lord of the Rats".
- So what is that about? - Hell if I know.
It 's hardly something an 11-year old girl would say.
It could be what we call a Flashbulb Memory.
A vivid recollection imprinted on the brain by trauma.
She probably just heard those words and doesn't know what they mean.
Jesus! Where are you going? What about Heather?
We'll get there. First, there's a man I wanna see.
Couldn't you see him later?
The researchers we've been using haven't come up with shite.
I talked to this guy on e-mail. He's got a fucking weird website.
Paranormal, Aleister Crowley. All kinds of creepy occult stuff.
I was gonna ask him about those tattoos, but...
maybe he'll have some idea about this business, too.
It 's almost on the way.
Elliot?
Can I help you with anything?
You sent me an e-mail saying I could come and talk to you here.
Right.
When I wrote that, I certainly didn't expect you to be a woman.
Well, I am.
Obviously.
I must admit you two don't look like the usual sort of...
...interested types. - What do they usually look like?
- Me. - I'm with the police, Elliot.
- But I haven't done anything. - Of course not. We want your help.
Okay, well... I'd be only too pleased.
You ever hear of "The Lord of the Rats"?
Well, you tell her. Go on.
What 's this?
She's dressing up in my shoes.
The bike's in the way.
What is it, Heather? Is it stuck?
Heather!
- Michael! - Stop there, Heather.
Don't go any further.
Close the door.
Now come back to me and your mother, where it 's safe.
Come back to your painting.
- A pen. Quick. - Pen. Keith?
You're back with your painting.
This time, Heather, I'd like you to draw a different picture.
Something you remember from that time.
Something that sticks in your mind.
Go on, Heather. We're all here.
You're safe. No one can hurt you.
The glass slipper fit perfectly.
So, they brought Cinderella back to the palace...
I just...
realized she'd been gone too long.
I went to the door to check.
It was standing open.
Someone had just...
taken her.
Let her sleep at least an hour.
I know how important giving up smoking is to you.
Your husband is not gonna leave you.
Well, okay, maybe he is.
I can fit you in tomorrow. Tomorrow morning?
Well, yeah, okay. I'm very sorry.
I'm very sorry. Bye. Bye.
You're not sorry at all, are you?
- Lf my wife finds out, I will be. - Jealous?
8 months pregnant, second child. I can't afford to lose my clients.
I'd be jealous.
You're not married, are you?
Bit permanent, marriage.
I thought that 's supposed to be the attraction.
- Impermanence has its attractions. - Yeah, I'm sure.
- What are you looking for? - Sleeping pills.
The bathroom window downstairs was wide open.
- So? - So?
- Someone could get in. - Someone 8 inches tall.
- Talk to me, Michael. - I just need some sleep.
- Is it about money? - No.
We have enough till things pick up.
Things will pick up.
Look how well you've done in the last 7 months.
This time next year you'll be booked solid and you can double your fees.
Then, write a book, sell videos.
Yeah, keep my head down, work the cigarettes.
You're the one who described it as saving lives.
What 's wrong, Michael?
Nothing, it 's...
- It 's just the sex. - What?
I'm sure I just miss sex.
Honey, so do I.
Anyway, it 's...
it 's not entirely out of the question.
What the...?
Relax your ankles, relax your knees...
relax your stomach, relax your chest...
relax your face.
Try to relax.
Relax your body completely. Start with your toes.
Very relaxed.
Let the feeling move up to your legs.
Very, very relaxed.
All the way up to your stomach... chest...
Breathe deeply.
Feeling relaxed.
Very, very relaxed.
Please, no.
No.
"Nistnesus".
I'm sorry, just...
You're through to Hargrave Models. Please leave a message.
Hi, it's Michael Strother. We met a couple of days ago.
I wonder if the word "Nistnesus"...
might mean anything to you?
Yeah, thanks.
Telephone number...
O2073...
- Have you got one, then? - All right, all right.
Light.
Hey, look.
Let 's check it out.
Now, the diagrams you gave me...
these three are pretty much standard hermetic stuff.
Just as all Christian sects use the symbol of the cross...
most pre-Christian sects use the signs of the zodiac.
Likewise, certain number patterns.
Sacred numbers are very important to adherence of the Old Knowledge.
- I didn't know. - Yes. Yes, oh yes. But...
these other two diagrams, they're very interesting.
And very peculiar.
And they tie in absolutely with both the typed liturgical fragment...
and the other term your partner called to ask about.
- Liturgical? - Precisely.
A liturgy. A ceremony.
Do you mind my asking where you came across this stuff?
- Check this out. - No way.
Wuss!
- Who's the wuss now? - Fuck off, that 's blood!
- Hi, Elliot. - Glad you could make it.
Elliot tells me you asked him to research something for you.
I assume this has got something to do with a crime.
- What sort of crime? - What term did he ask you about?
"Nistnesus".
The unwitting will of the mind to flee the body.
What 's that all about? Michael?
Something I thought of after you left.
Right. So, what 's the tie in?
Paladine. Francis Paladine.
He wrote the liturgy, invented the term "Nistnesus"...
and he's the man you're after.
Is this Paladine a friend of yours?
- He's dead, isn't he? - Only about 5OO years.
He was executed in France for heresy.
His living bowels were burned before his eyes.
He believed the soul was infused in the fore part of the brain...
behind the eye.
Are there many practicing disciples of this Paladine these days?
I don't think there are any. It was never a cult or anything.
So, how do you know all about it?
Well, I read books.
Try "The Hidden Light", by Catherine Lebourg, there's a chapter on him.
Why don't you ask her yourself? I'm sure she's still alive.
- You look like shit. - I feel like shit.
- Are you having my house watched? - You're getting paranoid.
Big silver Mercedes, lurking. Drove off when I ran outside.
You don't need to watch my house!
Policemen in England are poor. They don't drive big silver Mercs...
they drive clapped out old bangers like this. You want a lift?
- No, I'll get a tube. - Bye.
At least now we know what kind of trainers he wears.
Hallelujah.
I think we should get Heather here. It might spark her off.
The American Medical Registry has no record of any Doctor Michael Strother.
- You checked him out? - It was your assignment, wasn't it?
He's here on a student visa. So is his wife.
- He could make us look very bad. - That is not gonna happen, sir.
All I want from you is to look after Heather!
I don't want him going near her again!
Now stop running around playing detective!
Yeah, we had a little baby girl.
I'm walking through a crime scene...
which I believe to be connected to the so-called "Tattoo Murders".
And just look at what I've found. The mark of Edward Lippard-Smith.
Who was by no means a godd Christian.
What do you think you're doing here?
- I'm a consultant on this case. - And I'm Britney Spears.
Did any of you happen to notice by whom this church was built?
Get a life!
I'll get it!
Jesus Christ! Martha?
Martha?
Martha?
Where's Martha? I thought you were watching her.
All right?
Who the hell are you?
Gas man. Reading your meter.
For God's sake, Michael! Martha's right out here in the garden.
- Get the fuck out of my house. - Take it easy.
Michael.
Absolutely. Yes, sure, I will tell...
It 's very, very urgent that he gets this information.
Yes, Elliot Spruggs.
Thank you. Goodbye.
- Good night. - Good night, daddy.
Your consultant just called.
- What? - He thinks you're a policeman.
Spruggs. Elliot Spruggs.
I don't know anything.
Losey and Michael know everything.
All right?
I have Michael's number over there, by the telephone.
What are you doing?
Please don't.
That arsehole Elliot called my wife. I'm in the shit.
You can always come and stay with me.
Yeah, right.
Elliot said he'd been to the crime scene...
and he took some important video footage.
I think we should go to his place ASAP.
Michael?
Sorry. It 's okay. I'll meet you there.
Is it okay?
- I need to do this. - What 's going on, Michael?
I'm helping the police treat a little girl.
The little girl in the papers?
Yeah.
Michael.
I think I can help her.
We've flown 4,OOO miles to start a new life in a new country...
because you couldn't sleep in your own bed anymore! Remember?
- This is different. - No! This is not different.
That 's why the insomnia's back, isn't it?
I'll be back soon.
Fuck!
You're a bit jumpy, aren't you?
The door's been forced open.
Elliot?
- What was he doing in the church? - I don't know.
- Did you tell him about it? - How? I didn't know anything.
Elliot could have followed me.
I drove straight to the church after meeting him.
We looked at the video, and his "very important evidence".
It 's a19th century mark of an architect called...
Lippard-Smith. Do you know anything about him?
No.
Pity.
Apparently the rat is recovering nicely.
It 's not your fault, Losey.
I think I know who we could ask about Lippard-Smith.
She won't be able to talk long, just had a biopsy.
Professor Lebourg, you've got guests.
And I'm not deaf.
I'll be in my office.
Well...
don't just stand there grinning like monkeys. Do sit down.
- Professor... - Please, call me Catherine.
- What 's your name? - Strother. Michael Strother.
Are you famous?
No.
Pity. Is she?
No, I'm not famous, either.
We're doing some research. We've been reading your book.
- Oh, yes? Which one? - "The Hidden Light".
Not my best.
We are specifically interested in Francis Paladine.
A great man.
Greatly misunderstood.
Do you know of any active followers of his ideas?
Half the population of Silicon Valley.
I'm sorry?
Naturally none of them have ever heard of him...
but they're all trying to download their consciousness into computers.
Or so I read.
Paladine was after the same kind of transfer.
5OO years ago.
Well, only his method was supposed to work from man to man.
Why?
How old were you when you first realized that one day you would die?
We'd also like to ask you about a19th century church architect...
called Lippard-Smith.
Not a great man.
He built ten indifferent churches around London.
Was he interested in the occult?
Not as much as he was in prostitution.
Was Lippard-Smith a follower of Paladine?
I'm tired.
- Thank you. - Thanks.
Not outside my house. Drop me a bit further down.
Better wipe the lipstick off your cheek.
There is no lipstick, Michael.
- You need some rest. - Yeah, I need some...
What 's wrong?
Michael.
...following the discovery of a body in East London.
Chief Inspector Clements confirmed that the derelict church...
stumbled upon by two schoolboys yesterday...
is linked to the "Tattoo Murders".
- Who the fuck are you? - Easy, pal. I'm just doing my job.
The police are using you in the case, right? They are, aren't they?
Don't tell me you're a newspaper photographer?
Am I right?
Ask him why he left America.
We can look on it as free advertising.
I'm sorry.
Should we try Australia?
Didn't you realize that this case would put you in the public eye?
I had other things on my mind.
You didn't drown that man.
And saving this girl, or any other, is not gonna bring him back.
He could swim. He was on his high school team, but...
something happened. I never found out what.
And he developed a real terror of water.
He couldn't go near the lake or even a swimming pool.
So, where did you go wrong?
I did the thing someone like me should never, ever do.
I took away his fear.
I convinced him he had no reason at all to be afraid.
I made him feel invincible.
So the very next day he went down to the lake.
It was early April.
The ice had only just melted. And...
he went for a swim.
The coroner said...
a man of his size and weight would have survived 1O minutes.
15 at most.
It would have been a case of suicide if I hadn't told them what I'd done.
- They blamed you for it. - No. But the newspapers did.
Is that why you aren't registered as a doctor in America?
I'm registered, all right.
You checked up on me? Of course you have.
Strother is my wife's name.
Hello?
Yes. Okay.
Number 35...
King Charles Avenue, London, England.
- Martha? - Bye.
- Who was that? - A man.
St. Mary Magdalen, Clerkenwell.
St. John The Baptist, Whitechapel.
St. Luke, Westminster.
Holy Trinity, Bermondsey. St. Stephen's, Blackheath.
What?
Nothing. It 's okay. Go back to sleep.
Fuck!
- Have you seen my filofax? - No.
I'm sure it was here.
- I haven't seen it. - We need to get out of here now.
Heather, do you want a cone?
An ice-cream cone?
I'll go. Do you want one, Keith?
Sure.
With a flake.
And because...
when I flick this switch...
we will see on my screen...
the answer to the biggest question of all.
Where exactly are we anyway?
That 's 3 pounds, please.
Thank you.
Thanks, love. Bye.
Bye.
What are you doing here?
I tried to call, but no-one here would give me the time of day.
My family needs protection.
Sorry, but we've got worse things than photographers to worry about.
- He was in my house last night. - Go to the Press Complaints.
I mean the killer was in my house!
He did this. And he took my filofax.
Oh, God.
He has the address of the safe house. Get Heather out of there.
What?
Keith is dead.
Heather's been kidnapped.
It 's all my fault.
That 's why I've been sacked.
Sign there, please, sir.
How long will you be staying?
Not sure.
Come on, sweetheart.
It 's not so bad, huh?
No, it 's fantastic.
We can put the baby's cot right here.
The changing table over there. Sterilize the bottles downstairs.
- Dad, it 's cricket. - It 's just like baseball, honey.
I'll find a way to make it up to you.
At this point, if anyone would let me on a plane...
I'd already be halfway home.
They will catch him. Soon.
Don't we at least get a guard?
Now he has Heather back, they think he won't bother us.
What 's he gonna do to her?
Francis Paladine.
A great man. Greatly misunderstood.
He believed the soul was infused...
in the fore part of the brain behind the eye.
The mark of Edward Lippard-Smith.
Who was, by no means, a good Christian.
Moloch, Gog, Drammalach, Lord of the Rats. Hear me.
Yield once more to the Contagion of Woe.
Forthine is the Bitterest Pill and the Dismalest Traffic.
- Yeah, I'm here. - Listen.
What if the killer used that church specifically...
because it was built by Lippard-Smith?
Maybe it 's some kind of sacred place.
I mean, sacred to him. The killer.
And Lebourg said there were ten churches.
- Maybe he's in one of them. - Clements is way ahead of you.
He checked them out.
They're all active places of worship...
and the priests in charge are all on alert.
- There are only eight churches. - But Lebourg said ten.
We got a list from the C of E.
Lippard-Smith never worked for anybody else.
They say there's only eight.
- Do you have the list? - Yeah, I've probably got it.
Can you fax it to me?
There you go, sir.
Thanks.
Excuse me, can we get some more tea?
Daddy, are you looking for a better hotel?
Daddy?
Daddy?
Daddy!
- Sweetheart. - Hang on, I'll get it.
Wait a minute.
If we add one church here...
and one here...
Losey, listen: Lebourg was right. There are ten churches.
Look at your map.
If you add two more, one in Shepherds Bush and one in Hackney...
Hold on, hold on.
...it makes a five pointed star. Do you see?
Like the mark of Lippard-Smith.
- You're right. - They could've been changed.
That 's why they are not on the list.
I'm near Hackney. You look in Shepherds Bush.
If you find it, call me. Don't go in.
It 's a taxi. I gotta go. I gotta go! Bye.
Taxi!
I'm looking for a church which is no longer a church...
somewhere around Hackney.
This is the place?
No. It 's a synagogue.
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
- What are you doing here, love? - You gave me such a fright!
I thought you were... No, never mind.
Thanks.
Yes?
Hi. I wonder if I could ask you a couple of questions?
Yeah? What about?
This building you live in, I'm doing some historical research...
Please, I need to use your phone to call the police.
It 's an emergency.
Thanks.
- Were you mugged? - No.
- Could I sit down, please? - Sure. Phone's round here somewhere.
Bloody portables.
There's a man in the cellar.
Have you noticed anything odd down there?
What kind of "odd"?
Downstairs...
How did that telephone get down there?
Where's Heather?
How did you find me?
We know all about you.
Who's "we"?
The police.
Losey?
Yeah.
Then where is she?
Talk to me.
You're lying.
What are you doing?
Hey, what are you doing?
Where's Heather?
Talk to me.
I'm listening.
What do you wanna know?
The truth.
You don't have to talk. We'll find out what you know.
Can't you talk to me?
How much do you know? How much do you know?
Talk. Talk. Come on!
Shit! Talk to me!
Heather?
Heather, where are you?
Heather?
Moloch, Gog, Drammalach, Lord of the Rats. Hear the Darkness.
Yield once more to the Contagion of Woe.
Forthine is the Bitterest Pill and the Dismalest Traffic.
I'm tired.
You know who I am, don't you?
Relax...
I shall show you.
Moloch, Gog, Drammalach...
Lord of the Rats.
Beseech thee for more Darkness. The Fabric of Sorrow beseech thee.
Yield once more to the Contagion of Woe.
For thine is the Bitterest Pill and the Dismalest Traffic.
I am Francis Paladine.
Do you know the darkest fear that gnaws at the heart of men? Do you?
I have examined your mind and found that, like me, you have a gift.
But you have hidden your gift under a bushel.
Men choose to be weak, because power frightens them.
So also do they choose to die.
But I have cheated the Reaper nine times with my physic...
and today will mark a tenth.
Farewell, sweet Michael. Ignorant Michael.
Sleep now.
Allow thyself to slip away.
Wake up, Michael.
Wake up, Michael.
Wake up, Michael!
He is strong.
Kill him.
Are you looking for Tony, love?
- Is he in? - No, he's been held up.
- I've been waiting for an hour. - Maybe you can help. I'm looking...
- Is this more historical research? - What?
There was a bloke here earlier, said he was researching the building.
- What did he look like? - Tall, dark hair, nice looking.
- What happened to him? - I don't know, he's long gone.
Seemed a bit disappointed.
Something about being the wrong sort of church.
- Want to leave a message with Tony? - No, thanks. It 's okay.
Heather?
It 's Michael.
We're alone.
Listen to me, Heather.
Listen to my voice.
Remember your paint set?
Remember the colours?
Now close your eyes, Heather.
Picture that row of colours in your mind.
And the sable brushes, Heather.
Remember how soft they felt?
How smoothly they glided across the paper?
Now...
spread the blue paint over the paper.
- She's gone. - Are you sure?
Yes.
We'd better get on with it.
Quickly.
Quickly.
And under that sky...
the greenest field you've ever seen.
Full of yellow buttercups.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to run around in that field?
But you can't.
You're stuck, aren't you, Heather?
I'm afraid.
Afraid of him.
Listen to me, Heather.
I'm gonna count to three.
And on three...
all your fears will disappear.
Are you looking for Tony? No, he's been held up.
I've been waiting for an hour.
I've been waiting for an hour.
You are invincible, Heather.
Nothing can make you afraid.
Push, Heather.
It 's okay.
It 's fine.
Untie me, quick!
Michael!
No, don't move. Don't move.
Heather?
You are invincible, Heather.
Hurry, Heather's in there.
How do I get in?
Nothing can make you afraid.
Shit!
All your fears will disappear.
Heather!
Heather!
Come here. I've got you, little one.
I've got you. I've got you.
I can't find my other shoe.
Let daddy sleep.
She's beautiful. They both are.
Filthy habit, that.
I know this cute hypnotist. I think he could cure me.
You mean that quack from the papers?
Publicity pulls punters.
It also pulls the Home Office. I'm not allowed to work anymore.
Funny you should mention that.
- I hope this isn't a cheque. - No such luck.
It 's a recommendation from the highest level...
that you and your family be granted permanent residence here.
If you want to stay, of course.
- Thanks, but I won't be needing it. - No?
I'm taking my family back to the States.
And you?
Well, thanks to you, I've been promoted.
What about Heather?
Not bad.
Doctors say no permanent damage, physically.
Emotionally, I guess, only time will tell.
So it was Lebourg's blood they were putting into her all along?
Yeah, apparently.
- What was in it for her toy boy? - Sure you want to know?
- Yeah. - He was her son.
Anyway, you can see how Heather is yourself.
Hi, Michael.
- You look great! - I am great.
You want an ice-cream?
- Vanilla? - Okay.
H
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