Hellbound: Hellraiser II Page #2

We pull out to see that KIRSTY is sitting up, fully dressed, on a

hospital bed. RONSON, a police detective, sits on a plain wooden

chair, which is the only other piece of furniture in the room.

The walls are bare save for a piece of primitive art on one wall,

and, on another, a circular barred window looking out.

RONSON stands up and walks to the foot of the bed. He rests his

hand on the bed's metal frame and smiles a perfunctory smile.

RONSON:

Tell you what - we'll make a

deal. I'll tell you what I

know, then you tell me what

you know. O.K.?

KIRSTY is still re-orienting herself. She blinks a few times

and then focuses on RONSON's hands gripping the bed.

RONSON:

O.K.?

KIRSTY looks up at RONSON's face and then around at the room.

KIRSTY:

Where am I?

RONSON:

You're in the Malahide Institute.

It's a psychiatric hospital. But, hey,

don't feel judged - it was just

the nearest place to bring you.

Remember? You and your boyfriend... ?

KIRSTY:

Steve...

RONSON:

Don't worry. He's O.K. We sent him

home hours ago. Jeez, what a story.

He puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it.

RONSON:

What was it, kid? Smack? Angel dust?

Don't tell me acid's back in fashion?

KIRSTY:

What are you talking about? Who

are you?

RONSON:

Oh, excuse me...

RONSON reaches in his jacket and flashes an I.D.

RONSON:

Ronson. Homicide. I'm this

district's slash and dash expert.

Made a career of the nasty ones.

That's why I was at your

Dad's house. Jesus, what a mess.

KIRSTY'S eyes prick with tears. She looks away from RONSON.

KIRSTY (to herself)

Daddy...

8 INT JUNK ROOM LODOVICO STREET NIGHT

CORTEZ, a POLICE OFFICER, shifts some unpacked crates to

allow a closer look at the shriveled and deformed corpse of one

of FRANK and JULIA'S victims.

CORTEZ:

Jesus...

CORTEZ prods at the corpse with his night-stick, attempting

to turn it over. A stream of maggots pours from the mouth and

the cavity that used to be its throat.

CORTEZ jumps back in disgust and knocks against one of the

several wardrobes in the cluttered room. Another corpse flies

out at him, as decayed and flvblown as the first.

CORTEZ draws his gun and empties it blowing the corpses

head off, scattering flesh, mucus, and bone - but no blood -

everywhere before realizing it is already dead.

He realises what he has done and lowers his weapon sheepishly.

CORTEZ:

Oh. sh*t...

9 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM DAY

RONSON is sitting back in the chair, looking at the now slightly

calmer KIRSTY.

RONSON:

We got two missing people

and a house full of corpses.

He holds out his hand towards KIRSTY in a theatrical manner.

RONSON:

Talk to me.

KIRSTY swings her legs off the bad, but remains sitting on it,

her feet on the floor. She doesn't look directly at RONSON but

begins to take in the (few) details of the room for the first

time.

KIRSTY:

I thought Steve had talked

to you?

RONSON:

Oh, pardon me. I obviously didn't

convey my hesitation to take his

story at face-value. No, YOU

talk to me. But - do me a favor? -

none of this DEMONS crap.

KIRSTY closes her eyes, almost wincing, as memory comes.

KIRSTY opens her eyes. Consciously, she slows the rhythm of the

dialogue down.

KIRSTY:

He talked about Demons, huh?

RONSON:

Yeah.

KIRSTY turns her head to look directly at RONSON.

KIRSTY:

It's true. All of it. It's all true.

RONSON stares at her, impressed by her conviction and intensity.

There is a second of shared silence.

Suddenly, a shocking ELECTRONIC CRACKLE shatters the mood. RONSON

starts, then realises it is the radio at his belt. He snatches it

up and speaks into it.

RONSON:

Ronson.

10 INT BEDROOM LODOVICO STREET NIGHT

Another OFFICER, KUCICH, is standing, radio in hand, by the

blood-stained mattress. CORTEZ stands beside him, gun now safely

re-holstered.

KUCICH:

Kucich here,sir. We just found another one,

though it suffered a little...

KUCICH looks at CORTEZ, who looks embarrassed.

KUCICH:

...er, accidental damage in discovery.

Anyway, just about the only portable

evidence we've got here - apart from

human remains - is the mattress. Looks

like someone was messed up real bad

on it.

11 INT HOSPITAL ROOM NIGHT

KUCICH:

(off-camera)

Can we send it downtown?

RONSON throws KIRSTY a look of exasperation with his colleague.

The camera stays on KIRSTY's face as RONSON speaks.

RONSON:

What the hell are you asking me

for? Tag it. Move it.

KIRSTY (to herself)

The mattress... The mattress... JULIA.

Without waiting for a reply, RONSON switches the radio off and

clips it back to his belt.

12 INT BEDROOM 55 STREET NIGHT

We are looking at the mattress. KUCICH has left the room.

CORTEZ draws a pad from his packet. The pad is stapled, and

the staple has been badly inserted and is not closed property.

In the act of tearing a label from the pad, CORTEZ catches

his thumb on the staple.

OFFICER:

Sh*t!

The label is adhesive-backed. CORTEZ licks it and presses

it on the mattress. He writes on it - 55L/E1. As he stands up

from doing this, a single drop of blood from his thumb lands on

the mattress. (It is important that we see it is only a single

drop - and nothing like the amount LARRY spilled on the

floorboards.)

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