The Sandman (Vertigo) Page #2

Klesh. Vepar. Maymon. We summon.

The acolytes chant 'Come.'

5.

BURGESS (CONT'D)

From the dark they call you ... into the

dark they call you. Coin and song, knife

and stick ...

In the center of the circle, the air SHIMMERS --

BURGESS (CONT'D)

Claw and name, blood and feather ... Here

in the darkness ...

The air SOLIDIFIES, taking shape --

The acolytes echo 'Here in the darkness.'

BURGESS (CONT'D)

Here in the darkness, we summon you

together. COME!

There is FLASH --

-- and a black-cloaked FIGURE materializes in mid-air.

His head and face are covered by a HELM that looks like the

skull of some dead ancient god (which it is).

A large, vibrant heart-shaped RUBY adorns his neck.

A small leather POUCH hangs from one hand.

-- and then the figure collapses. He lies splayed on the

floor, in the center of the circle.

The acolytes are hushed, amazed.

ACOLYTE:

We did it. I don't believe it. We did it --

BURGESS:

No. We failed. This isn't Death. Damn it

to hell.

Silence from the others as Burgess considers the figure.

BURGESS:

Even so ... strip him.

The Acolyte nods, reaches across the circle --

-- and SCREAMS as his arm TWISTS violently, torqued by some

unseen force. Burgess shoves him away from the circle.

BURGESS:

Fool! If you'd broken the circle, he

could have escaped!

He grabs Elspeth by the hair, slashes with the knife --

6.

Elspeth's head lolls to one side. Burgess catches her before

she collapses.

ACOLYTE:

My god --

Burgess lets Elspeth fall to the ground. He holds his hands

up like a surgeon. They are stained with Elspeth's blood.

Careful not to break the circle, Burgess steps close to the

captured FIGURE. With bloody hands he strips off the cloak.

He takes the ruby.

He takes the pouch.

And then he removes the helm --

The face revealed is bone white, framed by jet black hair. An

aquiline nose and high cheekbones, a face carved from finest

marble -- save the eyes. These are obsidian, deep as the

universe -- and staring directly at Burgess.

He is the personification of dream.

He is SANDMAN.

Burgess draws back, unsettled.

BURGESS:

(shaken)

... I think, at day's end, this will have

been a very profitable evening's work.

With a gesture, he orders the acolytes out. Burgess continues

to stare at Sandman as he backs out of the room.

The door to the room pivots on an axis; the other side is

brick. It is clearly a secret room. The door swings shut.

Sandman lies on the floor, unmoving. And then --

-- a single, small tear slips down his cheek --

From somewhere in the empty room comes the SOUND of water

DRIPPING, slowly. In the corner, a drop of water slips from a

pipe, courses down the wall to the floor.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. THE WORLD - VARIOUS

A scratchy recording of 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' fades in

and out. We see images, drifting, dreamlike, drawn from news

reels, photographs, drawings: A bread line. Gandhi. Astaire

and Rogers, dancing. Flagpole sitting and dance marathons.

Hitler at a rally ...

7.

INT. BURGESS MANOR - CELLAR - CIRCA LATE 1940S - NIGHT

CLOSE ON:
Sandman's eyes. He's sitting up now, hugging his

knees to his chest. But still unmoving.

Burgess, nearly twenty years older, sits in a chair opposite

him, studying him.

BURGESS:

I know you can grant me boons. Power.

Immortality. A promise you won't seek

revenge.

(beat)

Well? I know you can understand me. Say

something!

Sandman does not respond. Does not move. Just stares.

BURGESS (CONT'D)

Damn you.

The door pivots, and ALEX BURGESS pushes in. He's seven, and

he wants nothing more than to please his father. He carries a

large folio, dusty and falling apart.

ALEX:

Sir! I found it!

BURGESS:

Yes, Alex?

ALEX:

See? Here. In the Paginarum Fulvarum.

He leafs through the folio. It is filled with old drawings

and paintings. We catch quick glimpses of figures titled

Destiny, Death, Desire, figures we will learn more of later.

ALEX:

You said he had to be one of the Endless.

But it wasn't Death. And it's not Desire,

or Despair -- or Destiny. That'd been

brilliant if you'd caught him -- um ...

Burgess has fixed him with a stern look, humbling him.

ALEX (CONT'D)

Uh, anyway ... Here.

He finds the drawing he's looking for, displays it:

A Heirmonyous Bosch-like portrait of Sandman in his helm and

cloak. Terrifying. The drawing is inscribed 'Here is said

thee Kinge of Dremes.'

8.

ALEX (CONT'D)

See? He's Dream.

(reading)

Morpheus, Lord Shaper. the Prince of

Stories ... the Sandman.

Burgess takes the folio, examines it, nodding.

BURGESS:

Yes. I was hoping you'd work it out on

your own one day. And you have. Well

done, Alex.

ALEX:

Thank you, father --

BURGESS:

Father?

ALEX:

(chastised)

Thank you, Lord Magus.

(gathers his courage)

Sir ... Since you know his true name,

can't you make him do what you want?

BURGESS:

Cretin. That kind of magick is too

trifling for him and his ilk. The Endless

are not mortal

ALEX:

But if they're gods --

BURGESS:

They are not gods. Gods come and go. Gods

fade away.

ALEX:

But ... are we safe? What if his brothers

and sisters come after us?

Burgess broods on this ... glances at a shelf. On it lie

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