MASON
I'm here on an Arts Council grant. I'm supposed to work on my sculpture.
ROTH
Your first time at one of these retreats, is it?
MASON
Yeah. I don't know anybody here.
(nods toward painting)
But I have a feeling I won't be lonely.
ROTH
Ah, Ephram Korban, the old bastard. He's the reason I'm here, actually. Besides bird-chasing.
MASON
Scenic shots of the estate?
ROTH
No money in that. I'm cashing in on the bugger. Doing a tabloid shoot.
MASON
Some sort of scandal? He's been dead a long time.
ROTH
His bloody ghost isn't dead, Governor.
Mason looks at Roth as if the man has been drinking too much. Roth probably has, but he is serious. Roth sees Spence in a circle of admirers.
ROTH
Might as well get a few of that bloke as well. You never know when he's going to have a massive coronary. Tabloids have been known to pay rather handsomely for those "last living" sorts of shots.
MASON
That's the writer?
ROTH
Remember what I said about how famous they make you? The critics made Spence very famous. Whether he deserves it or not.
Anna and Cris come over to Mason and Roth. Cris is a little tipsy and has a drink in her hand.
ROTH
(aside to Mason)
Ah, things are looking up.
(to the women)
Hello, ladies. What an attractive collection of talent to have under one roof.
MASON
We were talking about Jefferson Spence.
ANNA
I had to study one of his books in college. A style I call “stream of pompousness.”
ROTH
I don't doubt it. Personally, I've never read a word of him.
The COOK, 40, a dour, round woman in apron, stands in the servant’s entrance, glaring at Anna, who stares back.
CRIS
I've read all of his stuff. He slipped a little on the last couple. Lost the fire.
ANNA
Excuse me, I'm going to get a little fresh air.
Mason senses her discomfort and looks at the servant’s entrance. No one is there.
ROTH
Careful out there, love. Don't let the wild beasties eat you up.
Anna leaves. Mason looks after her as Roth enters Spence's circle. Just before Roth can interrupt the writer, Miss Mamie taps on a wine glass with a spoon. When she has everyone's attention, she starts a speech.
During it, the manor's guests pose:
SPENCE, annoyed at having his limelight stolen.
BRIDGET gazing adoringly at Spence.
MR. and MRS. ABRAMOV, elegant the way classical musicians should be.
PAUL and ADAM give each other winks and smirks, Paul mocking Miss Mamie.
ROTH miming taking a photo of CRIS.
MISS MAMIE
I'd like to welcome you all to Korban Manor. As most of you know, this house was built in 1890 by Master Ephram Korban. After he passed on, God rest his soul, it came into my family's hands. Master Korban's final request was that we open the manor as an artist's retreat. It's my duty to carry on the legacy, and I do that with great pride and joy.
ROTH
And profit.
The crowd laughs. As Miss Mamie continues, cut to reaction shots of those in the room. Mason checks out the sculpture and the hand-carved furniture.
MISS MAMIE
That, too, Mr. Roth. But it's more than just a way to fund the estate's preservation. It's a labor of love, a continuation of Ephram's vision, because he was a great admirer of the arts. Sometimes, when our guests are caught up in a creative burst, it's as if the Master himself is standing right here watching. I hope each of you finds fulfillment during your stay, and in doing so, you'll help keep Ephram alive in your own way.
MASON
(aside to CRIS)
Korban is apparently the most alive dead person who ever lived.
CRIS
Maybe Anna will catch his ghost.
MASON
Do you believe that crap?
Miss Mamie has been giving an inspirational speech about creativity and motivation.
MISS MAMIE
(raises a glass of wine)
—and, in honor of Ephram, we're having a party three nights from now. It's a very rare and special time. The second full moon, a blue moon, in October. So I propose a toast. May the Muses bless each of you.
Roth tips his glass to Korban's portrait.
ROTH
And may the gods grant us an exclusive sneak peek.
THE CROWD drinks, claps, cheers.
CUT TO:
EXT. FOREST
Anna at the edge of the lawn. She looks back at the manor. The upper floors are dark. Smoke from the chimneys mingle for a moment, and a vague face forms.
RACHEL'S GHOST (O.S.)
(whispers from the woods)
Anna.
Anna switches on her flashlight and shines it among the trees.
RACHEL'S GHOST (O.S.)
(whispers louder)
Anna.
Anna sees a trail, then takes a last look back. Laughter and music come from the manor. Anna heads into the forest.
ANNA
Okay. You brought me here, damn you. Now what?
She listens to the whispering forest for a moment, then heads up the dark trail.
CUT TO:
INT. THE STUDY
Roth waves Mason and Cris to his side, then takes the opportunity to join Spence's circle.
SPENCE
As I was saying, there are hermeneutic elements in Wolfe's “Look Homeward Angel.” But I submit that Gant is a flimsy extended metaphor propped up by ten thousand adjectives. If you sent that mess to an editor today, she'd say, "Wonderful, now can you make it read like Stephen King?"
The CIRCLE murmurs approvingly. Spence takes a deep drink and continues as Roth nudges closer.
SPENCE (CONT'D)
The worst book of the century, though? I think not. That dubious distinction must go to Hemingway for “A Moveable Feast.”
CRIS
And why is that, Mister Spence?
SPENCE
The critics adored the so-called undercurrent of tension. Claptrap. It's nothing but Hemingway-in-a-bottle, quintessential Ernest. Too earnestly Ernest, one might say.
The CIRCLE laughs, Roth loudest of all.
SPENCE
Sir William Roth, is it?
ROTH
A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Spence. This is my friend, Mason Jackson.
As Spence and Roth shake hands, the bystanders murmur in awe. Mason nods to the writer.
SPENCE
So what brings you to Korban Manor? Don't you usually do Darkest Africa and that sort of thing?
ROTH
Business, sir. Always business, with me.
SPENCE
Hmm. I'm working, too, if you can believe it.
MASON
This place must be inspiring to you. I heard you wrote your first book here.
SPENCE
The past is dead, young man. But I'm back. If my current project doesn't win a National Book Award, then you can be sure the judges have been drinking heavily.
The CIRCLE laughs, a few applaud. Mason looks out the window.
He sneaks away from the ceremony, glances at the portrait of Korban, then leaves the room.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE FOREST—NIGHT
A FLASHLIGHT BEAM bobs among the dark trees, accompanied by the sound of breathing. All we see is the light, seemingly disembodied and forlorn. Anna comes focus, following the trail.
A SHAPE flickers in front of the flashlight. Rachel's Ghost beckons Anna forward by waving the dead flowers.
They come to an old cabin. Rachel's Ghost fades into the door. Anna l
ifts the latch and goes inside.
CUT TO:
INT. CABIN
In the dark interior is a GIRL GHOST, 10. Her mouth opens, words like a winter wind.
GIRL GHOST
We've been waiting.
Anna backs away, stumbling.
ANNA
Ghosts aren't supposed to talk.
GIRL GHOST
Don't go.
Anna is at the door, ready to run. Girl Ghost looks over her own shoulder, as if afraid of what might be waiting for her back in the darkness.
ANNA
Ghosts don't talk.
GIRL GHOST
Please.
Anna hesitates, then takes a step forward. Anna plays the flashlight beam over the fading Girl Ghost.
ANNA
What do you want from me?
GIRL GHOST
(barely audible)
Everything.
The Girl Ghost reaches for Anna and dissolves. Anna shines the flashlight around the empty cabin.
ANNA
Hello? Where are you?
A NOISE by the window. Anna flashes the light there, sees an old woman's face. It is OLD SYLVA, 80's, a mountain witchwoman who lives on the estate.
Sylva moves away from the window. Anna runs to the door as Sylva reaches the forest. Anna chases but trips on the steps.
Anna searches among the trees. A SHADOWY FIGURE steps out of the brush. Anna shines the flashlight into his face. It is Mason.
ANNA
What the hell are you doing?
MASON
I saw you leave the manor and I—
ANNA
Are you some kind of stalker or something?
MASON
All this talk about ghosts, I got curious.
ANNA
You wouldn't know a ghost if it came up and bit your head off.
Anna storms away.
MASON
I saw her.
Anna stops, turns, shines the light in Mason's face again.
ANNA
The ghost?
MASON
What ghost? I saw that old woman.
A NOISE among the trees. Anna shines the light around, but they see nothing. They instinctively move closer together.
MASON (CONT'D)
Is that why you came here? Because of the ghost stories?
ANNA
I didn't come because I wanted to. I was summoned.
MASON
I heard you talking in there.
ANNA
She knew me. It's like she was waiting for me to come.
(half to herself)
I think I'm supposed to help her. Help all of them.
MASON
How can you help what's already dead?
ANNA
Maybe you have to become dead yourself.
Anna heads down the trail toward the manor. Mason follows, checking over his shoulder.
CUT TO:
INT. MISS MAMIE'S ROOM—NIGHT
Miss Mamie, in her nightgown, sits before a dresser mirror. The reflection shows Korban's portrait hanging above her bed. Miss Mamie, visibly aged, rubs at the wrinkles under her eyes.
She opens a small cedar box and takes out a LOCKET. The locket contains Korban's picture in sepia.
MISS MAMIE
You promised.
The mirror shimmers. Korban's VOICE comes from the mirror.
KORBAN
I always keep my promises.
MISS MAMIE
Do you like the collection?
KORBAN
You've chosen well, my sweet.
Miss Mamie touches the mirror. Korban's face coalesces among the reflected light of the fireplace.
MISS MAMIE
They will serve you, given time.
KORBAN
They're dreaming me back already. I can feel the burning.
MISS MAMIE
Spence is back. And the sculptor. He'll build you.
KORBAN
They all build me.
MISS MAMIE
And Anna.
KORBAN
She will burn. Finally.
MISS MAMIE
(averting her eyes)
What about Sylva?
The fire grows hotter. Korban is angry.
KORBAN
What of her? Just an old witchwoman with a sack of feathers and bones and weeds. Her power is nothing but the power of suggestion. But my power—
The fire roars up the chimney.
KORBAN (CONT'D)
—mine is the power that rules this side, the everlasting side. The side that matters.
MISS MAMIE
(caressing the mirror)
So many years. I don't know if I can wait much longer.
KORBAN
Patience, pet. They will do their work. I will have what any lord and master deserves.
MISS MAMIE
And after they're done?
As I promised. We'll be together again.
Korban's face fades into smoke.
KORBAN (CONT'D)
This time forever.
CUT TO:
EXT. WOODS BEHIND THE MANOR-MORNING
Ransom and Mason walk along a forest trail.
MASON
How much farther?
RANSOM
Miss Mamie said to find you up some good wood. Said if I didn't, I better bring back enough to build my own coffin.
Mason looks up the ridge where he and Anna had seen the ghost the night before. They come to a wooden TOOL SHED that leans with age.
Ransom pulls a feathery rag ball from his coveralls and waves it in front of the door before lifting the latch.
MASON
What was that?
RANSOM
A charm for warding off.
Ransom gives the doorjamb a kick, testing the shed's sturdiness. He enters, Mason follows.
CUT TO:
INT. TOOL SHED
Ransom takes a crosscut saw and ax from the wall and gives them to Mason. He puts a coil of rope over his shoulder and collects a hatchet. Ransom looks nervously at the ceiling.
MASON
Is the sky about to fall or something?
RANSOM
Man's got a right to be scared, ain't he?
MASON
Scared of what?
RANSOM
Miss Mamie said not to tell.
MASON
Look, if there's some kind of danger, you owe it to your guests to tell them.
RANSOM
I reckon so. Don't let on to Miss Mamie, though.
MASON
Nobody here but us chickens.
RANSOM
She got ways of knowing.
MASON
Then she knows I don't give a damn what she thinks.
Mason picks up an ax and gives it a test swing for weight.
RANSOM
A couple of months back, one of these old sheds caved in. My friend George Lawson was in it when it happened.
(looks at his hand, flexes fingers)
His hand was cut off by a piece of roofing tin. They found it laying on his face. Bled to death real slow, the doctors said.
MASON
Sorry to hear it.
RANSOM
He was of the old families. Not many of us left. But I aim to stick around a while myself.
MASON
Is that why you carry the charm?
RANSOM
The ashes of a prayer are stronger than the hottest fires of hell, my pappy always said.
They gather the tools and go into the woods.
CUT TO:
INT. MANOR BASEMENT—DAY
Lilith leads Mason down the stairs into the manor basement. She has an oil lamp. Mason carries a short oak log, his tool satchel over his shoulder. In the lamp's glow, the basement's dusty clutter can be seen.
MASON
It's warm down here.
LILITH
The central fireplace is just beyond t
he wall. Master Korban insisted on his fires.
MASON
So I hear. And I guess down here we're also twenty steps closer to hell.
Lilith stops on the stairs just before reaching the bottom.
Mason wrestles with the heavy log.
LILITH
Hell is a tunnel of the soul, Mister Jackson.
MASON
I already sold my soul. They gave it back when they found out it was worthless.
Lilith shows Mason a cleared space in the basement. He sets the log on a work table as Lilith lights two candles and a lamp.
LILITH
The basement doesn't get much use. We've had a few painters use it. You're our first sculptor.
MASON
This is the first room I've been in that didn't have a painting of Ephram Korban.