Sleepy Hollow Page #9

OLD CRONE:

Leave me. You are not welcome here.

The old Crone places something on a table beside her -- a

dead cardinal, bright red.

Ichabod is afraid, backing away, but Young Masbath takes the

woven piece and steps to the Crone.

YOUNG MASBATH:

Were you a friend to the Indian?

(waits)

You should have this... if you were

his friend.

Young Masbath puts the woven piece beside the cardinal. He

walks to join Ichabod in leaving.

OLD CRONE:

You seek remedy against the Horseman?

The Old Crone reaches to pick up the weaving. She stands,

faces them. Tall. Ichabod nods.

OLD CRONE:

(to Young Masbath)

Go out and keep away, child.

(to Ichabod)

You stay. Follow with me.

The Old Crone takes a candle and walks, deep into the cave.

INT. CAVE HOME, LOWER CAVE -- DAY

The Old Crone comes through a passage in the wet walls.

Ichabod enters, scared, bent under low ceiling.

OLD CRONE:

I hear him. He rides to the Hollow

and back.

ICHABOD:

The Horseman. Yes.

OLD CRONE:

Sit.

Ichabod sits on crooked stool. The old Crone kneels with her

back to him, gathers straw in a pile on the floor.

ICHABOD:

Can you help?

OLD CRONE:

You want to see into the nether world...

I can show you. Whatever you see, do

not move or speak. I will hold him.

She gathers bowls, putting grass and powder on the pile.

ICHABOD:

What... what are you doing?

OLD CRONE:

(turns, furious)

Close your mouth! Keep silent.

She takes two jars from a table, pours ashes on the pile from

one. She shakes the other roughly, takes the lid off and

upends it. A baby bat squirms on the floor, dazed.

The Old Crone holds the bat, using a knife to cut off its

head. She soaks the straw with blood, SPEAKING IN TONGUES,

guttural. Using a wick, she lights the straw.

She grasps two METAL CUFFS with chains attached, slides these

onto her bony wrists, then bends to inhale smoke.

OLD CRONE:

He comes now.

Ichabod would like to leave now.

EXT. CAVE HOME -- DAY

Young Masbath, waiting by the horses, looks up. Through the

trees, black clouds billow and block the sun.

INT. CAVE HOME, LOWER CAVE -- DAY

The old Crone slumps, still with her back to Ichabod. She

does not move. Wind howls through a hole/window. Rain.

Candles blow out. Ichabod stands, worried.

ICHABOD:

Excuse me... um...

She remains motionless. The STORM outside intensifies.

WE SEE the skin of the Crone's wrists transform; swelling in

the cuffs, hardening, cracking and bleeding.

Some thing Ichabod cannot see. He inches closer.

ICHABOD:

Are you alright... ?

The Crone turns, hideous, leaping erect -- a half-human,

half-demon CREATURE. Its black clawed hands reaching.

Ichabod recoils, crying out.

Chains on restraining cuffs yank the creature back.

Ichabod hits the floor, knocking over a table of bones. The

creature is chained, but still wants Ichabod. It SCREECHES.

The Old Crone's face seethes from transformation, eyes blood

red, nostrils dripping, teeth now jagged.

CREATURE/OLD CRONE

You seek the warrior bathed in

blood... the Headless Horseman.

Ichabod slides back as far as possible while the creature

claws the rock floor, yearning.

CREATURE/OLD CRONE

Follow the Indian trail to where the

sun dies. Follow to the tree of the

dead.

The creature pulls, testing the chains. Behind, the BOLT

holding the chains to the wall slips. The wall cracks.

CREATURE/OLD CRONE

Climb down to the Horseman's soulless

place and let loose his silent

shrieking. Do you hear? Do you hear?!

Ichabod nods, quaking, aghast. He glances to the exit.

The chain bolt gives more... coming loose...

CREATURE/OLD CRONE

He who holds fast the Horseman's

desire will guide his reaping hand.

Catch hold of his desire.

Ichabod bolts for the door. The creature HOWLS, leaping...

The chain bolt breaks...

Ichabod cries out, tackled to the floor...

It is the Old Crone who landed on him. She has returned to

human form, semi-conscious. Ichabod shoves her off.

EXT. CAVE HOME -- DAY

Ichabod runs out into the howling storm, past Masbath.

ICHABOD:

We are leaving.

YOUNG MASBATH:

What happened?

Ichabod scrambles onto Gunpowder, heading further into the

woods, glancing back. Young Masbath follows.

EXT. WESTERN WOODS, FURTHER ON -- EARLY EVENING

No rain. Dark. A lantern's glow creates shifting shadows as

Ichabod and Young Masbath ride.

YOUNG MASBATH:

Follow the Indian trail to where the

sun dies. To the tree of the dead.

(looking back)

Maybe we passed it by.

ICHABOD:

How could something named "the tree

of the dead" fail to draw attention?

A BIRD CRIES OUT. Ichabod's startled, looking up. The BIRD

is HEARD ALIGHTING. Leaves float downwards.

ICHABOD:

We should not go much further in

this murk.

YOUNG MASBATH:

Should we go back?

ICHABOD:

We are far from the Hollow.

(dismounts, troubled)

Loath to say it... better to get our

backs against a tree and stay till

morning.

EXT. WESTERN WOODS (TIME CUT) -- NIGHT

Horses are tied. Ichabod is seated against a tree. A

campfire burns. Young Masbath lies on a blanket, rifle cross

his chest, staring to treetops.

Leaves and branches shift in the wind. Bats fly wildly.

YOUNG MASBATH:

What does it mean... climb down to

the Horseman's soulless place?

ICHABOD:

"Let loose his silent shrieking."

Who knows, till we work at it? I

admit not being anxious to find out.

(pause)

"He who holds the Horseman's desire

will guide his reaping hand."

Whatever the Horseman's desire is,

other than extinguishing lives.

A SNAPPING BRANCH. Ichabod raises his pistol.

ICHABOD:

(to Young Masbath)

Do not move.

Ichabod rises. He creeps forward, pistol and lantern

forward. Foliage is thick. CRUNCHING LEAVES are HEARD.

Ichabod crouches, puts down the lantern and picks up a

branch. He tosses the branch to the foliage...

SOME ANIMAL darts away, a running blur.

Ichabod rises, following with his pistol.

ANOTHER ANGLE, MOVING P.O.V.: low to the ground,

moving swiftly at Ichabod...

Ichabod spins, blindsided.

Young Masbath fires his rifle -- CRACK!!

The ANIMAL is KNOCKED DOWN mid-leap, yelping...

The beast lands, a mass of grey fur.

Ichabod comes to stare down. Young Masbath arrives. They

both look to the beast, horrified.

The creature lies helplessly spastic; a TWO-HEADED WOLF, with

one head blown open to brain and gore. Its living head

lifts, MEWING sadly, eyes pleading.

Ichabod step up with pistol. FIRES. MEWING STOPS.

ICHABOD:

What God-forsaken hell is this?

Ichabod swallows back sickness, looking away. Something

catches his eye.

ICHABOD:

Christ...

Through the forest: the SKY'S LIT UP. Distant fire.

EXT. WESTERN WOODS, CAVE HOME -- EARLY EVENING

Ichabod and Masbath ride up, confronted by the Crone's cave

vomiting flame out all orifices.

Ichabod approaches. Embers swirl everywhere. The Old

Crone's body lies amongst bloodied leaves. Headless.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE, DOCTOR'S RESIDENCE -- NIGHT

Much commotion. A MOB in front of the home marked

"LANCASTER, PHYSICIAN." Steenwyck addresses the rabble.

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