FREDDY VS JASON A Screenplay by: Peter Briggs FADE IN: EPIC MUSIC O.S., the MAIN TITLES ROLLING over a series of medieval WOODCUTS. SINISTER IMAGERY - monsters, demons, torture devices - DISOLVING into one another, then we... OPEN ON: EXT. HILLSIDE PASS - SUNSET (17TH CENTURY) Lush green fields and vineyards, very like the Napa Valley. SOLEMN BENDICTINE CHANTING on the SOUNDTRACK, and the distant RESONANT TOLLING of a church bell, O.S. We HEAR TINKLING CHIMES. With a gentle CLIP-CLOP OF HOOVES, a burro crests a dark hill, silhouetted against the blood-red sun. Its rider adorned in lavish Catholic vesments. Before we can be amused, SIX MAGNIFICENT CHARGERS follow. Two grim-faced CIVILIANS in formal Middle-Ages clothing to the fore, a vanguard of pennant-wielding SOLDIERS at back. CLOSER NOW. The horses are nervous. The burro's rider - SIGNOR DELUCA - MURMURS something nervously in Italian. SIGNOR DELUCA "Le colline...hanno occhi!" PITT - a wary American Witchfinder - narrows his eyes. Turns to his traveling companion. PITT What did he say? HOPKINS - an aristocratic Englishman with a startling similarity to Christopher Lee - avoids his gaze. Scours the encroaching terrain with his keen vision. HOPKINS "The hills...have eyes." The horses WHINNY, worried by something nearby. SHEET-LIGHTNING whites-out the sky, drizzle spattering the earth. SIGNOR DELUCA (heavily-accented English) It's begun -- AN ANGLE ABOVE, LOOKING DOWN. The company trek purposefully along the winding trail. Something dark prowls past IMMEDIATE FOREGROUND. GROWLS inhumanely... EXT. CASTLE APPROACH - SUNSET (17TH CENTURY) The horses BUCK and REAR as they round the bend. SOLDIER #1 Mother of God -- THEIR P.O.V. A PAIR OF GROTESQUE WOODEN-FRAME EFFIGIES dominate the trail ahead, one to either side. Human-shaped, 30 feet tall. Both are aflame, packed with BURNING CADAVERS (anyone remember the 1973 movie "The Wicker Man"?). HOPKINS (solemnly) I've seen this before. PITT In England? HOPKINS In the darkest chasm of my dreams... As the troupe continue forward, we CRANE UP BEHIND THEM. Half a mile away, a gothic Italian castle looms ominously dark THUNDER CLOUDS roll supernaturally across the sky. A SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION CARD informs us this is: ITALY - 1648 EXT. ENTRANCE - CASTLE - NIGHT (17TH CENTURY) The ground has turned to slush. The horses skid, lose their footing. An ornate wooden box tethered to a saddlebag bursts open, releasing -- PITT Pontiff -- ! SOLDIER #1 dismounts, scrabbles in the mud. Passes two rather plain-looking daggers back to DeLuca. As he does-- THEY TRANSFORM. Morphing into exact duplicates of the Byzantine blade which slayed Jason Voorhees in "Jason Goes To Hell." Astonishment flashes across the Soldier's face. SIGNOR DELUCA (admonishes him) This matter...will not pass your lips. Hopkins and Pitt stare covetously at the weapons. PITT The Daggers of Horvath... SIGNOR DELUCA Sacrosanct. Said...forged...by the alchemists...of dead Atlantis. HOPKINS (cannily) ...And also from the blade which pierced the side of Christ? DeLuca shrugs, perhaps a little annoyed. SIGNOR DELUCA The origins are unimportant. Only their powers count this day. (to Soldier #2) Tether the animals. A turret rises above, a portent of doom. Lightning FLARES. INT. ENTRANCE HALL - CASTLE - NIGHT (FOREGROUND MINATURE) Boots ECHO on stone as the group enter an expansive circular chamber. Water PLINK-PLONKS from dank archeways all around. Inverted crosses on the walls, torches flickering in metal wall- holders. A wide staircase spirals into cobwebbed darkness above. A pair of giant censers swing back-and-forth...dozens of dangling chains with upturned corpses - real Grand Guignol - tangled in them. The FAINT STRAINS of a NURSERY RHYME - somehow familiar to us - intrude. Incongruously, the LYRICS are Italian -- DREAM CHILDREN (O.S., "Freddy Theme") "Uno, Due...Thanos venga per te. Tre, quattro...dovete chiudre le porte." HOPKINS You hear -- ? SIGNOR DELUCA Si. Pitt...? The American stares up at the hanging wrought-iron chandelier frame, scrutinizing the SYMBOL forged into it. Neither Celtic run, nor Egyptian glyph. Not Sanskrit, or pentangle...but somehow all at once. PITT Salem. Four years past. I burnt a coven. This same device. (a beat) Evil is at hand... DREAM CHILDREN (O.S.) "Nove, dieci...non dormirai piu --" A VERTICAL ANGLE, HIGH ABOVE. The RHYME stops. SILENCE. We HEAR a STEADY THUMP...THUMP. They draw their swords as -- Something PUNCHES FORCEFULLY through a COBWEB VEIL, BOUNCES down the steps. Comes to a halt at SOLDIER #3's feet...a dyed-purple leather ball. He bends PITT Wait -- ! Either the man chooses to ignore, or he doesn't understand. He picks it up. There's a MIDIEVAL SMILING SUN embroidered in gold filigree on one side. He grins. Flips it to see -- BURNS and MELTS, maggots and yellow bile pouring forth into his hand. It multiplies exponentially, spilling up along his arm in a second like a cancer. He turns, SCREAMING to the others -- HOPKINS Back...stay back! The Soldier lurches for them, his entire body consumed now. He stumbles, falls to the floor. EXPLODING into a mass of scarab beetles that scurry past their feet for the corners of the room. DeLuca crosses himself. GIGGLING from above. The group look up to see a pair of YOUNG GIRLS in white dresses duck back over a high balcony. SIGNOR DELUCA There... INT. WINDING STAIRWAY - CASTLE - NIGHT (17TH CENTURY) A HUGE SPIDER scuttles across the thick blocking cobwebs. The group cautiously acend the stairway, slicing at the musty veil. As Pitt turns his lantern to see a wall HEAVING with bugs -- A COVEY OF CROWS flush from a cranny, wings fluttering into their face, blinding them. DeLuca staggers back, feet pedaling on the edge. A straight drop, 50 feet... HOPKINS (alarmed) Signor! Hopkins hand lashes out and drags him back. SIGNOR DELUCA (thankful) Grazie. INT. CORRIDOR - CASTLE - NIGHT (17TH CENTURY) At the corridor's end are massive iron doors, 5 feet tall. A pair of drop-dead gorgeous BLACK WOMEN in white robes stand before them, staring enigmatically with peculiar eyes. The smoke wreathing them SWIRLS back through the doors like REVERSE TIME- LAPSE, gliding them with it. INT. NECROMANCER'S LAIR - CASTLE - NIGHT (17TH CENTURY) Another cylindrical chanber; the "Penticon" symbol Pitt recognized hewn large on the ancient stone floor. Through a glass skylight above, turbulent clouds simmer menacingly. HOPKINS The Necromancer. In the chamber's center - above the "Penticon", about 5 feet off the ground - floats a MAN. Crunched into a fetal position, he is naked. Tautly muscled, every square inch of his body inscribed with occult symbology. (He also bears more than a passing resemblance to Robert Englund). SIGNOR DELUCA My nephew... THE DOORS SLAM CLOSED behind them, the wall-torches extinguishing. The chamber becoming wreathed in the darkest shadows imaginable. A WOMAN'S LAUGHTER ECHOES ICILY, O.S. PITT Time is short. SIGNOR DELUCA Let us hurry. The three men approach. The air shimmers, as if they've just passed through an invisible field of some kind. The three Soldiers stare around the room nervously. All around are drawings and models, prototypes of fantastic inventions. They're so proccupied, they don't notice -- THIER OWN SHADOWS, peeling away from their bodies and sliding up the wall to vanish into the gloom above. SIGNOR DELUCA (cont'd) Help me. Reveal his heart. DeLuca holds the Dagger steady. As Hopkins and Pitt reach up to grasp the Necromancer's folded arms -- Behind them, DARK GRASPING CLAWS shoot down from above towards the Soldiers. Hauling a SCREAMING Soldier #1 upward. The Necromancer's eyes SNAP OPEN instantly, unleashing a BELLOW OF RAGE. DeLuca slams forward with astonishing strength, driving the Dagger into the Necromancer's chest..but only part way. The creature's arms WHIP OUT with superhuman force, knocking the demon-slayers away. Soldiers #2 and #4 hack furiously away with their swords, trying to release their comrade, as -- Hopkins reaches out. Grasps the Dagger's handle and drives it further into the Necromancer's heart, twisting it. He SHRIEKS like a feral animal -- Then falls to the floor. That same instant, the disemboweled corpse falls. Soldier #1 drops out of the shadows with a THUMP. The survivors edge warily forward, until -- THEIR LANTERNS FLARE LIKE XENON, achingly bright. The shadown in the room seem to alter...flow. A moving, liquid mass from every corner that pours towards the fallen Necromancer, entering the corpse's mouth and nostrils. The chamber brightens, until -- There are no more shadows in the room. A BEAT, then -- THE BODY EXPLODES, atomized to fine red droplets. An ENORMOUS FORM rises up from within, some vast CLOAKED OUTLINE, LAUGHING with DEEP MALEVOLENCE. Pitt steps forward, brandishing a crucifix. DARK VOICE Foolish mortals...do not task me! PITT Be gone, Apollyon! A shadow tentacle lashes out, slithers around Pitt's neck. Hauls him off the floor and squeezes tight. The crucifix clatters to the ground as blood seeps from his lips. Hopkins and SOLDIER #4 race forward to help. Another pair of tentacles explode forth. Hopkins is sent sprawling...the black mass PUNCHING straight through the Soldier #4's armor like a javelin and impaling him against the wall. An arrow unleashed from Soldier #2's crossbow evaporates in mid-air. Pitt's tentacle finishes its work. His decapitated body drops to the ground, the head rolling off into the shadows. Another pseudopod hurtles for DeLuca, who cries out -- But suddenly Hopkins is there, wielding a Dagger of Horvath. The tentacle hits the Holy blade and rives into black ice, showering the chamber floor. The Shape LAUGHS UPROARIOUSLY. DARK VOICE When Time...reaches its close...and your race attains the skies...I will set my creatures to shatter this world. SIGNOR DELUCA Consign thee to Hell, foul spawn! The stone "Penticon" beneath the Necromancer's corpse SHATTERS like glass, dropping into a GAPING ESOPHAGAL TUNNEL that plunges into the DEPTHS OF HELL. The Shadow-form disappears in a SHOCKWAVE BLAST that EXPLODES the skylight and SPLINTERS everything breakable. The MOCKING LAUGHTER fades as the "Penticon" reseals whole. HOPKINS (dryly) Demons. So overdramatic. DeLuca gazes around at the complex inventions, marvelling. SIGNOR DELUCA Look at this. The detail...the genius. HOPKINS Humankind...might profit immeasurably. Soldier #4 approaches Hopkins hesitantly. SOLDIER #2 Sire? What...should --? Hopkins moves something on a nearby drafting board. Examines the soft vellum parchment stretched out there. Like a Da Vinci anatomical study, we see an intricately detailed orthographic representation of FREDDY KRUEGER'S KNIFE-GLOVE and JASON VOORHEES' KILLING MASK. HOPKINS (absent, but authoritative) Burn it all. Raze it to the ground. Flames CRACKLE up INTO FRAME all around as we TRACK SLOWLY into the blueprint. SLAMMING ROCK MUSIC RISES O.S. as we -- DISSOLVE THROUGH TO: EXT. ELM STREET. - BETHLEHEM, VIRGINIA - DAY BRIGHT SUNLIGHT, filtering down through the boughs of trees. We CRANE DOWN, past a sign reading "Elm Street." Hit a van in FOREGROUND on a read of anonymous suburban storefronts. TWO CAPTIONS FADE-UP. The FIRST, which READS: BETHLEHEM, WEST VIRGINIA. And then is replaced by the SECOND: DECEMBER, 1999. An innocuous-looking bookshop sits across the road, the sign above the door reading "SAMHAIN BOOKS." Right out-front, a muscular HELL'S ANGEL sits astride a gleaming Harley. A scantily-clad BIKER BABE faces him atop the gas-tank, legs wrapped around his waist. They're sucking some serious face. REZNOR (O.S.) What - are you grafted to him, lady? Just how much foreplay's this gorilla need anyhow?! A TINY RED DOT flickers like an anxious firefly on the girl's throught. Suddenly -- SHE MOVES. Legs still in place, she swings around him to ride pillion. He guns the engine, and they pull out. RENZOR (O.S.) Thank you! Crowd goes wild -- The red dot settles on the bookshop window, and -- SPEAKER VOICE #1 (O.S., filtered) -- This one's young -- Through the bookshop window, we see TWO MEN in conversation. CUT TO: INT. F.B.I. SURVEILLANCE VAN - DAY A THUMB, stabbing at a button -- SPEAKER VOICE #1 (cont'd) (O.S., filtered) Fresh -- A SPECTROSCOPE, leaping into high peaks -- SPEAKER VOICE #1 (cont'd) (O.S., filtered) Like a peach -- A LASER-MIKE BEAM, slicing out from the one-way van window -- SPEAKER VOICE #1 (cont'd) (O.S., filtered) Camera loves her. Nestled hi-tech equipment in the van's rear is JAMES (JACK) REZNOR, F.B.I. Agent extraordinaire. Grimy, unshaven. The toll of days of stakeout. Take-out cartons and styrofoam cups littered around him. REZNOR Yeah - I'll bet, ya toxic sack of puke... A video camera rolls quietly next to him. His cellular phone WARBLES for attention. He reaches down, flips it on. REZNOR Agent Reznor. Better be good. CUT TO: INT. TACTICAL ROOM - F.B.I. H.Q. - WASHINGTON - NIGHT An expansive, clean room. Dozens of manned cubicles, rows of computer monitors. Jim Cameron territory. Christmas decorations break the monotony. Reznor's partner JAMES (JACK) COBAIN is in his cubicle on the other end, a big F.B.I. logo on the wall behind him. COBAIN Jack...it's Jack. CUT TO: INT. SURVEILLANCE VAN - DAY (INTERCUT) To the side of the video-cam is an odd-looking CCD stills camera. Reznor thumbs a remote plunger, takes a few shots. REZNOR Cobain - what's occurring? Expected your sorry ass hours back...where are you? INT. TACTICAL ROOM - F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS - DAY (INTERCUT) Cobain watches a CNN forest fire disaster on the wall-mounted T.V. nearby. CNN ANCHOR (O.S., on television) "-- with close to 400 miles of woodland incinerated, Canadian authorities seem powerless to halt the blaze --" COBAIN Washington, still. They pulled the pattern. Got me playing errand boy for some Vatican bigwig out to the airport. INT. SURVEILLANCE VAN - DAY (INTERCUT) Reznor jacks a wire from the stills-camera into the phone. REZNOR Shit. Well, look...get him to say some "Hail Marys." Things are shaking here, just like we thought. INT. TACTIACAL ROOM - F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS - DAY (INTERCUT) Cobain shifts in his seat, suddenly alert. COBAIN Snuff movies? INT. SURVEILLANCE VAN - DAY (INTERCUT) Reznor thumbs an inset button on the camera which illuminates a green: "TRANSMIT." REZNOR Yeah. I'm punching what I got through. Speaking of things priestly, Paula says I should tell you - if you work me tomorrow night, your tush is excommunicated. INT. TACTICAL ROOM - F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS - DAY (INTERCUT) The printer next to Cobain's V.D.U. WHIRRS, spits-out color stills from Reznor's camera. COBAIN I'll consider myself doomed. REZNOR (V.0.) They process our backup yet? COBAIN Hold a sec. Uh -- He cups the mouthpece as somebody (FBI AGENT #1) passes, TOOTING an extendable party whistle. Rifles a tray of paperwork, finds a requisition sheet with a SWAT header. The co-signature is still blank. COBAIN (cont'd) Tanya...this SWAT request signature? A pretty woman looks across from a nearby cubicle. Shrugs. TANYA Holidays...cut-backs? Prob'ly an oversight. Sorry, Cabain. CABAIN (back into phone) No change. Nice pictures...you get a bug in there? INT. SURVEILLANCE VAN - DAY (INTERCUT) REZNOR Not a hope. You wouldn't believe the scanners these bozos use. Running a laser- mike onto their window. INT. TACTICAL ROOM - F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS - DAY (INTERCUT) COBAIN Alright. What I'll do is, rush these through Photo Intelligence...drize down the second I'm through. INT. SURVEILLANCE VAN - DAY (INTERCUT) REZNOR Deal. But Jack? Give SWAT a push. I got a hunch these sickos are about to move. INT. TACTICAL ROOM - F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS - DAY (INTERCUT) Cobain replaces the handset. Sits back. Looks at the paperwork. Thinks a moment. Drags out a punch-file marked "S.W.A.T." and opens it. Finds an old requisition. Glances around to make certain nobody's watching, then -- COPIES THE SIGNATURE. A perfect forgery. The T.V. catches his eye again. Another CNN disaster. CNN ANCHOR (O.S.) "-- Our top story...a heated skirmish in International Waters, Leaving Korea one frigate down. Japan has already been threatened with reprisals --" Somebody (FBI AGENT #2) slows as he passes the T.V. FBI AGENT #2 Great way to end the Century, huh? COBAIN (grunts affirmatively) World's going to Hell in a handbasket. He stabs at a remote. Flips the channel to WHITE STATIC which -- MORPH-DISSOLVES THROUGH TO: EXT. "PLAIN OF BONES" - HELL - ZERO HOUR A DOWNPOUR OF HORIZONTAL RAIN against a dead grey sky. So subtle, we don't get it for a second. Then -- The SHOT ROTATES...TILTS. Swoops dizzyingly 100 feet. A LONELY WIND HOWLS around a figure. Face upturned, droplets spatter her face. We recogize her: ALICE JOHNSON, last seen defeating Freddy Krueger in "THE DREAM CHILD." She shivers, her eyes SNAPPING OPEN. ALICE (softly, to herself) Where am I? She's standing on a PLAIN OF BONES AND SKULLS stretching as far as the eye can see, rolling hills on the horizon. The low sky BOILS, a SEETHING BUBBLING REDNESS. A RUMBLE like an onrushing freight train GROWS. She turns to see -- A SINGULARITY TORNADO of MULTICOLORED ENERGY THUNDERING towards her, just 100 feet away. Chewing up the landscape...sucking "reality" into it. It's breathtaking, and it sounds like all the noises in the world. Alice bolts as the worldbehind her CRUMBLES, sucked mightily upwards. Her chest heaves, limbs working. Then -- The ground QUAKES and ERUPTS, throwing her off-balance. She falls solidly amongst a flurry of SPLINTERING bones. Looks up to see -- THE SINGULARITY, looming large. Unstoppable. She SCREAMS -- ALICE Nooooo --! A GREAT WHITE EXPLOSION hurls her through the air like a ragdoll. Her arms flail, and then she IMPACTS HARD with -- EXT. CRAGGY VERTICAL RACKFACE - HELL - ZERO HOUR (CONTINUING) A ROUGHLY-HEWN DARK GRANITE PILLAR perhaps 30 feet square, dropping vertiginously away thousands of feet below. She snatches a handhold...it SNAPS away. Falls about a foot...grabs another. Begins a labored ascent... EXT. APEX OF PILLAR - HELL - ZERO HOUR (CONTINUING) Alice claws her way over the plateau edge. Lies there, breathing heavily. A sibilant VOICE makes her jump -- DARK VOICE (O.S.) Aaaaalicccee -- She stumbles to her feet, finds herself looking out across the plain as the Tornado decimates it. More bones here, a SINGLE ARTHRITIC TREE claws upwards, and standing next to it towers - - SOMEBODY...SOMETHING. Cloaked. A vicious bladed scythe clutched in one hand, a BOA CONSTRICTOR coiling around the haft. If we didn't know better, we might say it was the GRIM REAPER. ALICE Hello? Hello... Alice's eyes widen as - with an eerie HISS - the figure turns towards her. But before we see the face -- A VARIATION ON A FAMILIAR FOUR-BLADED CLAW curls disturbingly around her neck from behind... SLAM CUT TO: INT. ALICE'S CAR - NIGHT JACOB JOHNSON - Alice's nervy 8 year old son - YELLS out in panic from the passenger seat. JACOB Brake! Alice jerks awake from her daydream at the wheel to see -- ALICE Shit! STATIONARY TRAFFIC on the freeway ahead, materializing at 40 MPH. She grips the wheel, mashes the brake pedal hard... EXT. FREEWAY - BETHLEHEM - NIGHT Alice's red Lexus SKIDS through puddles of rain. SCREECHES to a halt inches from the car in front. WIDER NOW, PULLING BACK. Her car a speck at the rear of the worst Friday night gridlock you can imagine. INT/EXT. ALICE'S CAR - NIGHT Alice sits, hyperventilating. Grey eyes wide. We get a better look at her now. Smartly-dressed. Mid-to-late 20s, mid-length strawberry-blond hair. Cute as a button. Her son stares accusingly at her from alongside. JACOB Mom, you said you weren't tired! ALICE No...I...just must have drifted. JACOB You weren't...dreaming again? Like before? She gives him a look. Ducks the loaded question. Peers out through the rain- slicked windshield. ALICE Look at this rain. Feels like it tailed us right from New Jersey. She reaches down and flips the radio on. Gets the news. RADIO NEWSCASTER (O.S., on radio) -- "Bizarre mass cult suicide at a Rio de Janeiro soccer stadium, 20,000 estimated dead --" ALICE Getting harder to find any uplifting news these days. JACOB That's cause-of it's the "Fin de Sickle." ALICE The what? JACOB "Fin de --" ALICE (pronouncing correctly) Ah..."Fin de Siecle"? JACOB Yea. Like, when every century ends, everything goes totally nutso. Only this time it's worse, cause it's, like, a new Millennium too. ALICE (smiles) Pretty slick. Where'd that come from? JACOB French class. Our tea -- A RUMBLE starts-up, gaining intensity. A spring-mounted toy bird dangling from the rear-view trembles. The car VIBRATES on its suspension, the engine cutting-out. JACOB (cont'd) Earthquake! Wow...cool! THEIR P.O.V. People scramble from their cars. A traffic sign ahead shakes, a freeway light swaying like a giraffe's neck. ALICE (gettign frightened) Virginia doesn't get quakes! Their gaze SNAPS ACROSS as a roadside fire hydrant BLOWS, gushing water into the air. A high-tension wire above SNAPS with a TWANG, Jacob YELLING as -- JACOB Mom!! THE SPARKING CABLE hits their roof, HISSING as it writhes. Searing the paintwork a couple of times before dropping to the roadside and becoming inert. The tremor abruptly ends. Alice grabs Jacob -- ALICE Jeez, are you alright--?! JACOB Think so... ALICE Sure? JACOB Yea... ALICE God...that was too freaky. She flips the ignition. Nothing. Tries it again. This time the engine GRINDS UNPLEASANTLY. ALICE Oh. Oh, no... JACOB What's wrong? ALICE Our angel must be on coffee-break. Jake, honey...something's wrong. I'm gonna... have to pull us off the next ramp. Somebody HONKS behind. The engine catches, sounds unhealthy. JACOB (knowingly) What did I say? ALICE Yeah. Tell me about it -- EXT. ALICE'S CAR - NIGHT We PULL BACK on the livid electrical scars seared into the car's rooftop. Oddly, they resemble...Freddy claw gouges. A mindful NURSERY RHYME TUNE TINKLESdelicately O.S. as the Lexus pulls out onto the freeway turn-off... CUT TO: EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE FREEMAN HOUSE - BETHLEHEM - NIGHT Neat identical houses: Suburban Anywheresville, U.S.A. A 15ft illuminated neighborhood Christmas tree shines like a candystore beacon. Sheets of rain bead on telephone wires crossign the street. Drip into the tree, FIZZING and FLICKERING the bulbs. INT. LIVING ROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT An 8 year-old blond girl - STEPHANIE FREEMAN - eats a sandwich atop the back of a chaise-longue, face pushed up against the misty widow. Stares wide-eyed as the tree flickers spastically across the street. STEPHANIE Daddy! The tree isn't working right -- ! She climbs down, wanders back across the long room. The television plays "The Mask" animated series NOISILY to itself in B.G. She glances cursorily at it in passing. INT. KITCHEN - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT (CONTINUING) Stephanie's parents - STEVEN and JESSICA REEMAN - are in mid- argument in the cramped kitchen, a disassembled car gear box neatly laid-out on the dining table. Steven is an odd blend of bookish and jock, his greasy work overalls partially unbuttoned. His wife is exceptionally pretty...at least she would be if she gave herself the chance. She seems tired, long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Both are in their late 20s. JESSICA Steven, you made a promise! STEVEN Jess -- JESSICA New Year's, 1999...a fresh Century! We always said we'd celebrate this one togeter, regardless -- STEVEN We will...look - it'll be a fast pick-up. Burn rubber first thing, get this guy's sump. Back in plenty of time. You... me...Stephy -- JESSICA Ushering-in the "bright new future"? She turns away to wash some vegetables at the sink, her tone a mixture of cynicism and tired resignation. Steven stops, frowns. Puzzled and somewhat taken-aback. STEVEN Right. What? Stephanie appears at the doorway, interrupting the flow. STEPHANIE Daddy...? STEVEN (to Jessica, persistent) Look, I promised the guy. Am I missing something here -- ? JESICA (to Stephanie) Oh - not now, baby... STEPHANIE (persistent, to Steven) -- Can you fix the tree? Stephanie picks the stick-shift up from the table. STEVEN Which tree?...don't touch that, pumpkin. Distracted, Steven takes it from Stephanie, replaces it. She wraps her arms around him. Pouts petulantly. STEPHANIE Over the park. The lights are all sparky, look -- JESSICA Stephy, Mom and Dad are yammerin -- STEPHANIE Puh-lease? She jumps up-and-down. He ruffles her hair. STEVEN Weren't you watching T.V.? JESSICA T.V.'s for squids. STEVEN (laughs) Well...plumb the depths. I'll get there. STEPHANIE O-kay... Stephanie grudgingly leaves. Steven LAUGHS. STEVEN I swear, that kid's intent on setting the whole world to rights. JESSICA Great. Have her start here. Steven's had it. Turns to her, baffled. STEVEN Alright. You gonna share into this little secret? JESSICA Which'd be what? STEVEN You, stomping about like a poster ad for Prozac. JESSICA Oh - pull a 360, Steven! Take a wild stab! Steven looks wounded. This seems to be a familiar routine. STEVEN C'mon, Jess -- JESSICA No! No, I've had it! I'm sic of...of clipping coupons...scrimping every cent. We've bills up the ying-yang...I want us to actually amount to something! STEVEN Pushing "delete" on one of "America's Most Wanted" wasn't enough for one lifetime -- ? JESSICA It's been eight years since we fried Jason Voorhees! Eight years! What do we have to show for it? STEVEN We got the autoshop -- JESSICA You seen our bank statements? STEVEN The recession...you know it's temporary. We'll pull through -- JESSICA Yeah, and it's always around the next corner! Steven, we're sinking into a bottomless pit! I look at other families with 'lifestyles'...we don't even manage a life! I spend most of my life under a car, up to my elbows in grease and swill! third-rate existence! STEVEN What do you want me to say? I'm all outta easy answers! The message pager on Steven's belt BEEPS annoyingly. He thumbs it off, squints at the display. Looks abashed at Jessica. STEVEN (cont'd) It's...uh...a call-out -- Jessica turns away. Picks up the knife. Chops mechanically at the vegetables like a Stepford wife. JESSICA You should go. STEVEN (conciliatory) Jess -- JESSICA No. Do it. We can use the money. Steven leaves the kitchen uncertainly. We HEAR him call out: STEVEN (O.S.) Up for a ride, sweet thing? STEPHANIE (O.S., excited) You bet! JESSICA (calling after) Don't forget your -- Jessica closes her eyes as the front door BANGS. Heaves a SIGH, instant regret flooding her features. JESSICA (cont'd) (finishing, redundant) -- Keys. Goddammit, Jess Voorhees -- CUT TO: EXT. DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT A big 747 comes in to land on a rain-swept runway. INT. ARRIVAL LOUNGE - DULLES INTERNATIONAL - NIGHT The terminal is packed with mostly-bored PASSENGERS, not even Bruce Willis and some hijackers to liven things up. Cobain sits on a passenger rotunda, an F.B.I. file open of his lap. He YAWNS...goes to sip from his styrofoam cup. A FAT BUSINESSMAN to his right turns the pages of his newspaper, catches Cobain's elbow. A great coffee SPLOT stains his paperwork. Cobain shoots him an evil look. FAT BUSINESSMAN Sorry, pal. Cobain catches sight of the newspaper headline: "ASTRONOMERS BAFFLED OVER DISAPPEARING STARS." Reaches down, wipes away the mess. We see an attached "Front-and-Right" mugshot of a hatchet- faced guy (who we recognize from Reznor's surveillance shots) registered with an "Interpol, Surete" stamp. From the corner of his eye, Cobain notices the OLD WOMAN to his left reading the file. COBAIN (pointedly) Interesting read? The woman looks hurriedly away... CUT TO: EXT "SHAMAN BOOKS" - ELM STREET - NIGHT An ANGLE low on the rain-speckled sidewalk. A VAN'S TIRE enters FRAME. The door opens; a boot drops into SHOT. INT. SURVEILLANCE VAN - NIGHT A dishevelled Reznor drops a cigarette butt in his empty styrofoam cup. Opens his packet of Camels. Empty. Glances out the window...and does a double-take. Sits up straight, instantly galvanized. Snaps-off a few more photographs. REZNOR What? Little late-night browsing? HIS P.O.V., ACROSS THE ROAD. A newly-arrived van stands outside the store as a RAINCOATED MAN fumbles an adjacent yard open. Reznor watches as it proceeds inside. REZNOR (cont'd) Bingo. Pary-hearty time -- He unholsters his pistol, thumb-catches the slide -- EXT. YARD - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT. VERTICAL CRANE SHOT, looking down on the van as two FIGURES in raincoats manhandle a struggling hape encased in a black bodybag up through a fire-exit at the rear of the bookshop. EXT. YARD DOOR - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - ELM STREET - NIGHT Rain plastering his hair, Reznor sidles carefully up to the yard door, gun-in hand. Glances nervously around, puts his face to a gap in the fence. Peers through -- REZNOR Aw...shit! He pulls out his cellphone. Flips it open -- EXT TURRET - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT Narrow lengthwise rectangular windows glow soft yellow against the silhouette of the oddly medieval turret atop the bookstore. Lightning BURSTS throw it into sharp relief. We HEAR the TOLLING of a CHURCH BELL on the SOUNDTRACK... INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT A LOW ANGLE, orbiting a strange inverted "lightning rod" suspended dead-center in the circular chamber. Sculptured ceiling "ribs" curve outwards, forming cabalistic pillars lining the room. The saffron glow from hundreds of candles highlights diabolic imagery on the walls as the storm FLASHES through the windows high above, MALEFIC CHANTING O.S. A wick is lit by one of several CLOAKED CULTISTS milling around the room. An ANCIENT GRIMOIRE with a sculpted cover (the "EVIL DEAD" Necronomicon, seen in the Voorhees house in "JASON GOES TO HELL") rests open on a wooden podium. The LEAD CULTIST traces arcane runes as he anoints the tooled silver blade of an AZTEC SACRIFICIAL MACHETE with oils. LEAD CULTIST "Ro-Ta Derp...Suss-Ruv Nayala --" We TRACK LEFT as another Cultist totes a set of ominous iron limb- shackles. Linger in PASSING the video-assist monitor of a mounted camcorder. It glitches to life, reveals an INVERTED WOODEN CROSS...we CONTINUE and END on the real thing: 6ft long and tilted at 40 degree slant. A HIGH ROTATING ANGLE, away from the Cross to a symbol carved into the stone floor. We recognize it instantly as the "Penticon" rune from our ITALIAN PROLOGUE. We hear a GIRL'S SHRIEKING VOICE from somewhere just outside. GOTH GIRL (O.S.) Get your goddamn paws off -- ! EXT. YARD - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT Reznor drops down from the fence top. The ground on the yard-side is slushy - he loses his balance, skids awkwardly. His cellphone falls into the mud. He picks it up, shakes the dirt from it. Crosses to the van, peers quickly inside. INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT FAST CUTS. Chunky wrist clamps CLUNK into place. A spirited but obviously-terrifed dark-haired GOTH GIRL SCREAMS crazily as two CULTISTS attempt to secure her legs to the top of the slanted cross, the others stand CHANTING in shadows surrounding the room... CULTISTS (together) "Kandar...estrata...montos...eygrets --" The Lead Cultist - the same guy from Cobain's Interpol photographs - stands behind the Necronomicon podium. LEAD CULTIST Lord of Gehanna...keeper of the Fallen Spirits of Darkness -- The Girl lashes a long leg at one with the force of a Bruce Lee karate kick. As Cultist #1 SLAMS back against a pillar, the cowl slips away to reveal a WOMAN PRIEST with a CLERICAL DOG-COLLAR beneath. GOTH GIRL Crazy freako psycho bastards...let me go! Cultist #2 ENTERS SHOT wielding a HI-TECH STUN ROD. Shoves it against her with a SHARP OZONE CRACK. The Girl slumps back. LEAD CULTIST By the Abramelin Mage, receive this lowly oblation as your own -- Another restraint CLAMPS around the Girl's throat. The CHANTING RISES in PITCH as her dress is RIPPED SAVAGELY AWAY, revealing the bare chest beneath. The videocam monitor begins to GLITCH inexplicably -- INT. YARD - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT Reznor glances up. The THUNDERCLOUDS above the store are SEETHING into TURMOIL. He tries the fire-exit. Locked. REZNOR Perfect -- He pulls a Lockaid gun - a staplegun-like device - from his coat pocket. Squeezes the trigger. Thin protruding prongs WHIRR and vibrate. He slides them into the keylock -- INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT The CHANTING aproaches feer-pitch. The Lead Cultist runs the Aztec Machete's tip lightly between the girl's breasts, drawing a bead of blood. Raises the blade to shoulder height as she stirs slightly and MOANS. LEAD CULTIST (rising to a shout) -- Hear these words of power! Barter this flesh and invoke your Holy Guardian... "Nosferatus, Emontus...Thanos"--! WIDER NOW, ACROSS THE ROOM. At the precise moment he drives the blade down, we CRAB QUICKLY LEFT to -- THE GIRL'S FACE on the VIDEO MONITOR, HOWLING in EXTREME CLOSE-UP as the machee SLAMS home (mercifully OFFSCREEN). The monitor picture starts to ROLL -- FAST CUT TO: INT. YARD - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT SNAP! TIGHT ON Reznor's Lockaid gun as the twin prongs shear-off in the lock -- REZNOR Shit! This never happens on T.V.! He stumbles back into the yard, takes a look around as LIGHTNING FLARES above -- INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT The Girl's head slumps lifelessly back. Blood swells along channels carved into the cross...weeps over the edge. Trickles into -- THE "PENTICON" BELOW. Disturbingly, the fluid MOVES OF ITS OWN VOLITION...heading in assorted directions along the carved gullies. The Cultists register surprise and trepidation as the droplets ACCELERATE and ACCELERATE and -- TRANSFORM from matter into SEARING POINTS OF ENERGY that race about the unholy symbol like a circuitboard ELECTRON DANCE. A strange wind GUSTS through the place, GUTTERING the candle slightly. The videocam monitor SNOWS erratically as questing tendrils of power SHOOT up from the circle, ARCING through the Girl's body and shrivelling her to a desiccated husk -- EXT. FRONT OF STARE - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT Reznor's head SNAPS UPWARDS as -- EXT. TURRET - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT The heavens are RENT ASUNDER by a MIGHTY CRACK, a bolt of LIGHTNING SLASHING DOWN to COURSE through the vane atop the bookshop, and -- INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT CRACKING DOWN from the inverted lightning conductor to the "Penticon" which ERUPTS, coalescing into a RAGING ENERGY MAELSTROM. All the candles BLOW OUT simultaneously -- EXT. FRONT OF STORE - "SAMHIN BOOKS" - NIGHT KER-BOOM! The turret windows SHATTER, GOUTING EXHAUST SPUMES of ROLLING ORANGE FIRE. Reznor dives for cover as debris showers down -- REZNOR Holy fuck! INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT The ENERGY TORNADO is a WHIRLING VORTEX of RED-AND-GREEN LIGHT, oscillating slightly (perhaps subliminally giving the idea we might see Freddy Krueger). The Cross has become energized, an INCANDESCENT GLOWING MASS...a BLAST WAVE hits it, BLOWING AWAY the Goth Girl's ashen remains. Cultist #3 on the periphery IGNITES, a human fireball. The Lead Cultist is snagged by the vortex's power, the trim of his cowl catching fire. Both his skull and right arm GLOW from within, an unearthly MOLTEN ORANGE -- EXT. FRONT OF STORE - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT Reznor rainses his pistol squarely at the storefront window. REZNOR Screw "Reasonable Cause" -- BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM! A half-dozen rounds STAR and IMPLODE the glass... INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT A SHAPE forms within the tornado...a HUMANOID framework of veins suspended above the floor in a fetal ball, gaining solidity each moment -- Mass panic. Cultist #4 tries to bolt...an energy ribbon LASHES out and BURNS A HOLE THROUGH HIM. The jaw of the transfixed Lead Cultist opens a SILENT SCREAM in his WHITE-HOT SKULL -- The Humanoid Shape is solid now, electrcal CRACKLES ZAPPING about it. The vortex suddenly IMPLODES, and -- A BURST of LIGHT tosses the Lead Cultist ferociously backwards, his face sheared away and cauterized. The Aztec machete spins up into the air, as -- The remainder of the vortex EXPLODES and dissipates, as-- The videocam monitor ROLLS BACK towards normality, and -- A FAST CUT as CHUNKY CONSTRUCTION BOOTS with black crome shin- guards SLAM DOWN onto the reformed "Penticon", as -- The machete pirouttes down, and -- A HAND sporting fingerless open-backed biker-gloves WHIPS OUT from nowhere, ENORMOUS FINGERS curling around the grip then -- WHOOSH! The blade immediately CLEAVES through the air towards -- THE THROAT OF CULTIST #5, who looses a SCREAM -- Which is interrupted as he's DECAPITATED in a FAST VIDEO MONITOR INSERT. We get a speedy SCAN-LINED glimpse of JASON VOORHEES' KILLING MASK POWERING across the FRAME -- BUT LIKE WE'VE NEVER SEEN BEFORE. Still a HOCKEY GOALIE, but now DARK CHROME with ANGULAR FACETS. Terrifying - a regular SLASHER DARTH VADER. INT. WINDOW DISPLAY - "SAMHAIN" BOOKSHOP - NIGHT Reznor knocks-in some dangerous glass shards, inadvertently toppling a skeleton window display. He clambers over the frame and into the store, his shoe coming down to crush the delicate plastic skull -- INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT Cultist #6 SHRIEKS in terror as Jason's foot SLAMS down MULCHING his head to puree. Jason's head SNAPS AROUND as -- Cultist #7 is there with a BATTLE CRY, wielding a sacrifiecial dagger -- CULTIST #7 Morituri Abominati -- ! THUNK! The dagger sinks up to the hilt in Jason's torso. Jason glances calmly down...a moment's hesitation...the man freezes...then Jason impales him cleanly with his machete. Jason pitches back with the dagger protruding as Cultist #1 catches him unawares, garroting him with the sacrificial restraint chains. Jason relinquishes his grip on the machete, and Cultist #7 reels towards a pillar, GURGLING -- Jason staggers blindly, knocking the videocam tripod over. Rain SPATTERING the dark crome mask through the breached roof above, he CLAWS ineffectively at the chains as CULTIST #1 uses her mass to lever him back, and -- Cultist #2 CHARGES Jason from the front with the CRACKLING STUN- ROD. Cultist #1 SHRIEKS out in pain as the conductive charge ZAPS through Jason's body and along the chains. As Cultist #2 TWISTS the tip deeper into Jason's stomach, Jason SLAMS the woman back against a stone pillar, CRUSHING her. He simultaheously SEIZES the man's shoulders and -- YANKS HIM BODILY FORWARD, the Stun-Rod SPEARING Cultist #2's chest and passing cleanly through him. Cultist #2's SCREAMING face is a matter of inches from the chrome faceplate as -- Jason PLANTS a FEROCIOUS HEAD-BUTT on him, then TOSSES him aside like a ragdoll. As Cultist #1 sinks down behind him, Jason extracts the sacrificial dagger from is ribcage and tosses it to the ground. Turns to Cultist #7 - alive and WHIMPERING against another pillar with the machete protruding and stalks murderously towards him -- INT. STAIRWELL - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT Reznor takes the landing stairwell two stairs at a time. Down below, we can see the orderly shelves that make up the small-but- cluttered store. As he reaches top -- KER-SMASH! Reznor flinches, half-ducks as the door leading to the turret ahead SPLINTERS WIDE APART, Cultist #7's corpse WHOOSING throught he air. It CRACKS THROUGH the bannisters, PLUMMETS down into the store. BOUNCING OFF a bookshelf adn coming to rest below. Reznor gapes. REZNOR Jesus! A DARK SILHOUETTE steps forward from the shadows. Reznor raises him pistol, Weaver-stance. REZNOR F.B.I. ...right where you are, twinkletoes! Reznor gets a good look as LIGHTNING reflects fromt he chrome killing mask through the skylight immediately above. The jet- black boiler-suit...the dark liquid trickling along the Aztec machete's rune-carved blade. REZNOR (cont'd) Drop the toothpick, buddy! Jason ignores him, strides malevolently forward. Reznor CLICKS his pistol's safety catch -- REZNOR (cont'd) One warning only...do it! Jason raises the blade threateningly...and Reznor lets him have it, SHOT-AFTER-SHOT. Jason LURCHES each time the bullets him home...Reznor's eyes bug at the lack of effect. The machete SWISHES down, burying itself in the broken bannister-rail. Reznor feints to the right, avoids the swing by millimeters ...loses his footing on the ledge-- AND SLIPS, tumbling down into the store. Conveniently, the prone corpse of Cultist #7 cushions Reznor's fall...but his head BANGS against something, KNOCKING him out cold. WE FINISH TIGHT ON REZNOR'S HEAD. Chromed construction boots STOMP past on their way out into the night... EXT. "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - NIGHT (AERIAL MATTE SHOT) TIGHT ON the videocam monitor showing a SKEWED ANGLE of a Cultist's face, staring sightlessly. PULL BACK to reveal -- A GOD'S EYE ANGLE looking 270 degrees VETICALLY DAWN at the bookstore. The shattered turret is in IMMEDIATE FOREGROUND, pockets of GUTTERING FLAME in the rafters here-and-there. Through the rent in the roof, we see part of the "Penticon" and various SCATTERED CULTISTS' BODIES. Approaching POLICE SIRENS RISE in VOLUME, O.S. Far below, we note TINY FIGURE of Jason Voorhees casting a huge shadow as it stalks purposefully away into the darkness... CUT TO: EXT. BLACKTOP ROADSIDE - BETHLEHEM - NIGHT (CRANE SHOT) Rain is coming down in sheets, still. A breakdown truck with "Voorhees 24 Hour Motors" markings is pulled at the roadside. A GUY in overalls and an all-weather jacket has his head under the open hood of Alice's Lexus, just up-front. INT. ALICE'S CAR - NIGHT Alice watches as the guy drops the hood, SPLASHES around to the driver's side. She thumbs a control. The window WHIRRS down, and we see Steven Freeman's face. ALICE So, what do I owe you? STEVEN (shakes his head) I wish it were that simple... ALICE What is it? STEVEN Well. Contacts're fine. Battery's got a charge, so it's not electrical. Oil's good...something with the gas mix, maybe? Might even be in the engine... ALICE Oh, God -- STEVEN I can put it through the shop overnight. You could drop-by tomorrow... Alice shoots a worried look at Jacob, asleep in the back seat. ALICE No. I'm not...well, we don't live around here. We were driving back, to Ohio -- Steven scratches his head. Thinks. STEVEN Well, then you certainly have a problem. I could maybe give you guys a ride? Some reasonable motels, just down off the blacktop -- ALICE This time of the year? This year? STEVEN Ah, I know some people. (grins) Friends in low places. Y'know? ALICE Thanks. Whatever. Anything I can get has to be better than sleepin here, I guess -- CUT TO: INT. ARRIVAL LOUNGE - DULLES INTERNATIONAL - NIGHT CLOSE ON the second hand of Cobain's wristwatch, the TICKING incredibly loud. WIDER NOW. Cobain's still sitting on the rotunda. His eyes are heavy, head drooping. He catches himself. Repeats this once...twice. The TANNOY ANNOUNCEMENT SLURS and FADES-OUT O.S., and -- HE WAKES BACK TO CONCIOUSNESS, suddenly fully refreshed. His gaze comes up, not really focussing on anything -- HIS P.O.V., looking around. Flurries of people hurrying to their destination. Subtly SPEEDING-UP and BLURRING into one. (We HEAR the TANNOY O.S. in QUICK GARBLED SPURTS.) A GAP appears in the crowd -- To reveal a WOMAN in a NUN'S HABIT. We recognize her as AMANDA KRUEGER, Freddy's deceased mother. She does a quarter- turn...stares directly at Cobain. Cobain frown. Straightens. Hears a GREAT ECHOING MECHANICAL "CLANK." Looks up to see -- -- THE AIRPORT WALL-CLOCK GO BACKWARDS from "12:40" to "12:39". He glimpses down at his wristwatch. The second hand is running backwards, too... Cobain returns her gaze, finds himself standin inside -- INT. "CHURCH VOID" (DREAM SEQUENCE) AN AREA OF LIGHT, bounded by impenetrable shadow. The stone floor scattered with autumnal leaves, a dais ahead. Standing on it before a VERTICAL STAINED GLASS WINDOW is Amanda, WHITE DOVES fluttering about her. The GIANT CENSERS We saw in the ITALIAN PROLOBUE WHOOSH BACK-AND-FORTH between her and Cobain, preventing him getting any closer. She locks her gaze to him. He glances nervously left-and-right into the shadows before returning it. AMANDA KRUEGER (resonant echo) The time of Darkness falls upon you all... you must choose the True Path...ahhhh --! She convulses, doubling over. Hands clutching at her chest. FOUR GREAT BLOODY RIPS stain her robe's white frontispiece: FREEDDY CLAW MARKS. Cobain makes to move forward -- AND AMANDA'S HEAD SNAPS UP, hideously transformed into a SKELETAL DEATH MASK. Before Cobain can react, Amanda EVAPORATES into a SPECTRAL WRAITH and DISSAPEARS. A WEIRD EXAGGERATED CLACK-CLACK NOISE O.S. -- INT. ARRIVAL LOUNGE - DULLES INTERNATIONAL - NIGHT Jerks Cobain back to reality. It was a dream...a weird nightmare. A GROUP of BLACK YOUTHS are standing of to one side, incongruously playing a "NIN" song LOUDLY on their boom-box. Cobain looks up as the status of all the flights on the arrivals board NOISILY changes to "DELAYED" -- CUT TO: EXT. AIRSPACE - NIGHT Lightning ERUPTS around a DC10, battered by storm clouds. INT. CLUB CLASS COMPARTMEN - DC10 - NIGHT Nervous PASSENGERS are shaken about in the half-full compartment, many vomiting into bags. THe internal lights GLICKER wildly. Halfway-back sits PONTIFF MANFREDINI. 50s, plump and mustachioed...anxiously clutching a black leather briefcase to his chest. He fumbles awkwardly at the cap of a pill bottle as -- A GREAT BLAST OF TURBULENCE sends it SPINNING from his grip. It HITS deck...BURSTS open, spilling tablets. Rolls down the aisle. A STEWARDESS stops its progress, smiles at Manfredini as she swiftly replaces the pills. STEWARDESS Having a little trouble there, Pontiff? Manfredini grimaces apologetically. Speaks in a broken Italian accent. PONTIFF MANFREDINI I'm...sorry. I do not...travel well. STEWARDESS Just like a good wine, huh? His attempt at a smile fades with another JOLT of TURBULENCE. PONTIFF MANFREDINI The, uh...."Cabinetti"...bathroom? She turns, looks back down the aisle. The illuminated sign changes to "OCCUPIED" as an AILING PASSENGER lurches inside. STEWARDESS Heavy traffic...look, there's another cubicle back that way, if you're chewing your knuckles -- PONTIFF MANFREDINI (rising) Si...yes. Thank you -- INT. PASSAGEWAY - DC10 - NIGHT Manfredini is rocked against a wall as the plane is buffeted. INT. TOILET - DC10 - NIGHT Manfredini enters the cubicle. Closes the door behind him and TURNS -- To find himself in a CHURCH CONFESSIONAL BOX. The latch SCHNICKS into place of its own volition. Manfredini recoils, sits down heavily. The walls are panelled wood...startles as SICKLY GREEN LIGHT BLASTS through the latticework separator. DARK VOICE (O.S., deep and resonant) Father...it's five billi8on years since my last confession -- Manfredini looks around in panic as the walls compress quickly inward, and -- THE FLOOR DROPS AWAY! He pitches forward, palms pressing aginst the walls as MALEVOLENT LAUGHTER echoes. Flames LICK up from a BOTTOMLESS PIT, SEARING at his legs like a flamethrower as -- The RED-AND-GREEN PEW - his only leverage - TILTS away beneath him! He falls awkwardly, SCREAMING -- INT. PASSAGEWAY - DC10 - NIGHT AND ROCKETS BACK THROUGH THE TOILET DOOR, SLAMMING HARD against the passageway wall. He slumps, staring at the swaying door for a moment...listening to the CREAKY HINGES. His head JERKS AROUND at a FAINT SOUND further down the compartment. A CHILDREN'S NURSERY RHYME. HE HEARS an OILY SQUEAK some way down the rear of the plane. Stares 50 feet back to see -- A 5 year-old GIRL in a white dress cycles into the aisleway on a three-wheeled trike. Looks directly at Manfredini. GIGGLES mischievously. PONTIFF MANFREDINI Hey...hey! GIRL ON PLANE (singsong) "One, Two...Freddy's coming for you --" She turns the trike's wheel and cycles rapidly off. PONTIFF MANFREDINI No...wait -- ! As Manfredini makes to follow, we notice the SHADOW of FOUR GIANT CLAWS moving on the wall behind him -- INT. 2ND PASSENGER COMPARTMENT - DC10 - NIGHT Manfredini enters the next compartment...stops in horror. Crosses himself. The occupied seats contain FRAZZLED SKELETAL PASSENGERS, their clothes and bones STEAMING SLIGHTLY. PONTIFF MANFREDINI God have mercy -- GIRL ON PLANE (O.S., singsong) "Three, Four...better lock your door --" Manfredini summons up his resolve. As he hurries towards the source of the sound -- ANOTHER ANGLE, behind Manfredini. MASSIVE LEGS ENTER OVER CAMERA, gunfighter style. FOUR ENORMOUS BLADES idle into FRAME. Intricately etched - but shot-through with rust and corrosive pitting - the tarnished chrome catches the light... INT. 3RD PASSENGER COMPARTMENT - DC10 - NIGHT Manfredini's face registers bewilderment as he enters this compartment. The seats have changed into WOODEN PEWS, each of the window portals a small square of stained glass, autumnal leaves gusting around. The trike lies overturned on the floor, a spoked rear wheel still spinning. As the Pontiff crouches to halt it -- A SPORADIC STROBE-FLASH from the front of the aircraft backlights a HULKING FIGURE someway behind him. An ENORMOUS TORSO, filling the passageway and then some...24 INCH SCIMITAR-LIKE CLAWS curving down from its right hand. PONTIFF MANFREDINI (unawares) Where are you? Manfredini STARTLES as the INFLIGHT MOVIE PROJECTOR starts up. (Conveniently, SCENE 67 of "Wes Craven's New Nightmare.") WES CRAVEN (O.S., on screen) " -- It's old, very old. And it's taken different forms in different ages. The only thing that stays the same about it, is what it lives for." JACOB (O.S.) You shouldn't be here --! Manfredini looks around. Sees Jacob standing accross the aisle, looking at him with puzzlement. HEATHER LANGENKAMP (O.S., on screen) "What's that?" PONTIFF MANFREDINI How...where is this place? The girl...? We hear the Dream Girl's GIGGLES from somewhere, O.S. GIRL ON PLANE (O.S.) "Five, Six...grab your crucifix --" JACOB (ugently) Quick! Get away...you have to wake up! PONTIFF MANFREDINI Wake...up? AN ENORMOUS RIPPING SOUND fills the air as HUGE FREDDY CLAWS GASH cross-sectionally through the hull between them -- WES CRAVEN (O.S., on screen) "Slaughtering innocence." The aircraft hull RENDS APART, SLICED in half -- EXT. AIRSPACE - NIGHT (OPTICAL - CONTINUING) The DC10's tail SHEARS away as Manfredini PLUNGES HUNDREDS OF FEET towards CAMERA and certain death, the trike TUMBLING alongside -- PONTIFF MANFREDINI Noooooo -- ! EXT. APEX OF PILLAR - HELL - ZERO HOUR (CONTINUING) WHAM! Manfredini SLAMS RIGHT THROUGH a BARBED STAKE,impaling him brutally. (The trike kicks up a DUSTCLOUD as it hits ground in F.G.) A REVERSE ANGLE as the Pontiff MOANS, grasping feebly at the bloody spike. A GRIM-REAPERESQUE FIGURE with a SCYTHE LOOMING over him...beyond, we see the VAST ENERGY TORNADO towering over all as it approaches inexorably -- INT. CLUB CLASS COMPARTMENT - DC10 - NIGHT (BACK TO REALITY) An AGITATED PASSENGER tries to hold a BUCKING and STRAINING Manfredini. Blood seeps around the edge of his attache as the Stewardess makes to prize it away. The Pontiff's face is bright purple, his eyes bulging. VARIOUS PASSENGERS crowd around, ghoulishly watching. It's almost as if he were being dragged into the air. STEWARDESS Hold him down...keep him down! AGITATED PASSENGER I'm trying -- ! A SECOND STEWARDESS stands behind, grinding tablets against Manfredini's clenched teeth. A SECOND PASSENGER comes into SHOT, waving a plastic spoon. SECOND PASSENGER Get this between his teeth --! As the Stewardess YANKS the case away, we hear a CRUNCH -- AND A BLOSSOM OF BLOOD ERUPTS from Manfredini's chest! JUMP CUT TO: EXT. ROAD - BLACKTOP MOTEL - NIGHT The "Voorhees Motors" truck is parked at the roadside, Alice's Lexus up on the back ramps. The garish neon of a nearby motel SIZZLES in the sheet rain. INT. CAB - STEVEN'S PICK-UP TRUCK - NIGHT The wipers SCHNICK-SCHNICK as Steven stares out through the drizzle-speckled windshield. Stephanie is next to him, tearing pieces of orange peel and aiming them at Jacob's sleeping face in the rear. He turns, catches her in the act. STEVEN C'mon - knock it off, Steph. Kid's beat -- Stephanie complies...at least until Steven looks away. She rips another piece, FLICKS it at Jacob's cheek -- AND JACOB BOLTS AWAKE, SCREAMING LIKE A BANSHEE! Stephanie SCREECHES back, caught unawares. Steven GALVANIZES into action, stretching over the seat to Jacob. JACOB It's him! STEVEN Whoa, hey...hold the phone --! JACOB He killed the man --! STEVEN You had a nightmare... JACOB No, I saw him! With his claws -- ! STEVEN Claws? The sudden CLUNK of the passenger side door unlocking makes them jump. Stephanie budges over as Alice leaps in, soaked. ALICE I don't believe it! This is beginning to feel like nailing jello to a door. STEVEN No luck? ALICE "No room at the inn." Again. She pauses. Recognizes an intense atmosphere in the cab. ALICE (cont'd) Is everything okay? JACOB Mom, it's the Sandman! ALICE What? JACOB It's Freddy. Freddy Krueger... Alice goes still, feels a sudden chill at the name... CUT TO: CLOSE ON MANFREDINI'S FACE. A zipper comes up over it... AIRPORT COP (O.S.) It's the damnedest thing... WIDER NOW: EXT. "APRON" - DULLES INTERNATIONAL - NIGHT The rain has stopped. Blue ambulance strobes light the scene. Prominently displaying his F.B.I. clip-tag, Cobain stands with an AIRPORT COP watching the gurney containing the Pontiff's bodybag being loaded into an ambulance. AIRPORT COP (cont'd) Paramedics say they've never seen anything like it. Massive internal hemorrhaging, punched right through his ribcage. No apparent cause. Vatican's already laying on a special flight back for the body. Cobain shakes his head. Glances over at the SOBBING Stewardess telling her story to some MORE COPS. COBAIN How're the cabin staff? AIRPORT COP If brown trousers and bug-eyes are Airline regs, I'd hazard they're peachy. He reads the china-pencil writing on a big handled polybag containing Manfredini's case and a number of loose personal effects. Hands it over to Cobain. AIRPORT COP (cont'd) "Manfredini." What'd this goombah do? COBAIN Pope's Special Envoy. AIRPORT COP (impressed) No shit. Anyhow...it's all there. Tagged and bagged. Expect you boys'll settle the pencil-pushing. COBAIN (wryly) Yea. Story of my life... INT. COBAIN'S CAR - AIRPORT - NIGHT The polybag lies on the passenger's side, the attache on top. Cobain opens a brown leather pouch in his hands. Gingerly pulls out a plastic exhibition sheath. Inside is a worn, edge-burnt piece of parchment. The Freddy glove and Jason mask illustration from the ITALIAN PROLOGUE. COBAIN What the...Sam Hill...is this about? Cobain's cellphone WARBLES for attention. He flips it open. COBAIN (cont'd) Yup...Cobain -- ? CUT TO: INT. CAB - STEVEN'S PICK-UP TRUCK - NIGHT Jacob seems troubled, staring out of the window. The radio plays some MUSIC at LOW VOLUME. Steven drives Alice in silence while the kids are bonding in the back. STEVEN Nice car. ALICE Thanks. Company. STEVEN Yea? Whaddya do? ALICE I'm, uh, a legal rep. For a record company. STEVEN Ever meet any stars? ALICE No...long hours, you keep your head down. Though Alice Cooper once held a lift door open for me. STEVEN Cool. So what's your husband think of it? ALICE (touching a nerve) No. Dan...died, before Jake was born. STEVEN Oh. Sorry. In the rear, Stephanie flips through Jacob's Superhero trading cards. STEPHANIE Wow..."Spawn"! Who'd you reckon'd win if "Spawn" fought "The Mask"? JACOB I dunno..."Spawn", I guess. But it'd be dumb i it was done wrong, 'cause they're from different Universes and you gotta have a proper story to make it work -- Steven hears the conversation. Grins slightly. Alice catches his eye. Smiles, then looks away. ALICE Kids. STEVEN I know. Alice tries hard. Thinks of some conversation. ALICE So. "Voorhees Motors." This is you? STEVEN Not exactly. My wife started up the business with some money we came into a while back. We work it together. "Voorhees Motors...We'll Slash Your Prices." Stephanie LAUGHS OUT LOUD in the rear. Alice looks on in bewilderment. ALICE I'm sorry, I don't -- ? STEVEN Oh, it's, uh...kind of a family joke. ALICE Ah. Another silence. Steven breaks it next. STEVEN Listen. I don't wanna pry, but...this "Freddy Crew-cut" -- ? ALICE (interrupting quickly) "Krueger." It's nothing. Just an...old, bad dream. STEVEN A dream? Jacob catches Alice's quick look in the rear-view. ALICE It's not something we talk about anymore. STEVEN Ah. Okay. EXT. DRIVEWAY - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT The pickup backs into the driveway, stops. A sloping ramp leads down to the door of the basement autoshop. Everybody climbs down from the cab. STEVEN Last stop. Chateau Freeman. Pools of YELLOW LIGHT illuminate the forecourt. STEVEN (cont'd) Security lights. Never be too careful. Jacob stares delightedly at the big Christmas tree. JACOB Mom, look. They've got a real tree! ALICE Pretty neat. (to Steven) This is really generous. I don't wanna be a burden? STEVEN Ah, don't worry. Jessica's pretty much the understanding type... INT. KITCHEN - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT Jessica's dressed in awhite oversized man's flannel robe, pinched from a hotel somewhere. She HISSES at Steen, clearly unhappy. JESSICA Are you nuts?! What were you thinking!? STEVEN Jess, the motels were all full -- JESSICA She could be some crazed child molester... axe murderer -- JESSICA'S P.O.V., THE LIVING ROOM. Jacob looks around as Alice hefts a chunky Samsonite case. STEVEN -- Charlie Manson's secret love-child? She's a lawyer, or something. JESSICA Figures. The worst type. STEVEN Be reasonable, Jess. What was I supposed to do? Leave 'em stranded on the Interstate? JESSICA Yes! Steven tries to be placating. Cups her hips with his hands. STEVEN Her car needs work. Think of it as an investment. Money in the bank. Just one night. JESSICA One night? STEVEN One night. I promise. Her arms come up. Slide around his neck. JESSICA I swear, my karma sucks. I get myself married to Crystal Lake's last Boy Scout. He grins. Alice appears at the kitchen door, a little embarrassed at interrupting. ALICE I'm sorry, I -- JESSICA (breaking away) Oh -- ALICE Sorry, hi -- JESSICA Hi. ALICE Alice Johnson. Jessica sticks her hand out. Shakes it. JESSICA Jessica Freeman. ALICE I, uh...just wanted to say thanks...you know? There's not a lot of people about who'd do something like this for a complete stranger. JESSICA No, that's...really. The least we could do. ALICE You might think I was, y'know...an axe maniac or something. She catches a look from Steven. Doesn't comment. JESSICA (blithely) No...no. Never even entered my mind. STEVEN I'll help you with the bags. Show you and Jake downstairs. ALICE Great. She smiles at Jessica. Leaves. Jessica looks after her. JESSICA Terrific. CUT TO: INT. POLICE HELICOPTER - NIGHT TIGHT ON A THERMOGRAPH SCREEN, an AREIAL VIEW of cars and buildings reduced to "Hot-And-Cold" colors. The CHATER of ROTOR- BLADES O.S. WIDER NOW. A POLICE THERMOGRAPH OPERATOR peers at the monitor alongside the PILOT. THERMOGRAPH OPERATOR 3-David-15...two blocks West off Miller, we have an unresolved anomaly your vicinity...warehouse alleyway. Over. CUT TO: INT. POLICE CRUISER - NIGHT A police Cruiser with two cops on patrol, REESE and FOLEY. Reese clicks his radio handset. Swivels the doorlamp towards an alleyway ahead. REESE Aerial...we're on it. Give us some aircover. THERMOGRAPH OPERATOR (O.S. on radio) Affirmative. EXT. ALLEYWAY - NIGHT Reese is backlit by the cruiser lamp at the mouth of the alleyway, Baretta 9mm drawn. He ventures forth, passes the overhang of a fire exit. Swings his own flashlight across the trash-strewn floor. The CHOPPER CLATTERS O.S., AN INTENSE CONE OF LIGHT stabbing down. Reese startles. REESE Aw, crap! INSERT, CLOSE ON THE FLOOR. DOZENS of RATS swaring aound his agitated feet. REESE (cont'd) (thumbs his walkie-talkie) Aerial, you might wanna inform Pest Control. Other than that, it's a negative on your perp. OVer. THERMOGRAPH OPERATOR (O.S., on walkie talkie) Roger that, we'll keep on lookin. Out. The chopper spotlight SWEEPS ON OVER, and as it does -- WE SEE JASON VOORHEES standing in the shadows, SLATS OF LIGHT GLIMMERING through the fire-exit onto the chrome mask just inches behind Reese! The Aztec machete raises inexorably to deliver a killing blow -- -- But Reese simply walks back to the Police Cruiser, cheating death by seconds. DIFFERENT ANGLE, CLOSE ON JASON. The steel mask turns to TRACK the Cop. A stray shaft of light reveals its edge FIZZING slightly. TINY BLOBS OF MOLTEN CHROME dripping away, as if the mask were corroding... CUT TO: INT. BASEMENT BEDROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT. A stepladder, a bunch of boxes, and numerous odds-and-ends clutter up a small utility room. Jacob sits on the edge of the single bed, arguing with Alice as she unpacks. JACOB Mom, I can take the chair -- ALICE Forget it, squirt. You need your sleep. (a beat) This isn't about that dream? JACOB I'm just not tired... ALICE Jake, he isn't coming after us again. Fred Krueger's no threat to anybody, I cancelled his tickt a long time ago... JACOB I saw him! On the airplane. He was just like the stories the kids tell at school...with the claws, only -- ALICE What? JACOB He was bigger, Mom. Real, real bigger... CUT TO: EXT. FRONT OF STORE - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - SUNRISE Reznor sits atop a gurney, swatting away the attention of a PARAMEDIC. His arm in a splint, he smokes a cigarette with his free hand. We see TREAD MARKS of FRESH BLOOD on the concrete sidewalk left by those leaving the store. EMERGENCY VEHICLES are parked haphazardly out front. Yellow-and- black OSHA tape sections the area off from the ONLOOKERS who are beginning to gather. Cobain ducks under it clutching his F.B.I. files, flashes his badge to a DUTY COP. A T.V. CREW on the sidelines tries to grab his attention -- T.V. REPORTER C'mon, Officer! Last chance for Primetime this Century...! He ducks them. Heads for Reznor, juggling his cellular with one hand while smoking with the other. REZNOR (into phone) Paula, I'm fine. A noggin' bump, I'll survive. He has a COUGHING fit as Cobain reaches him. COBAIN You know, those things'll kill ya... REZNOR (to Cobain) You're hilarious. (into phone) No...Jack. He just got here. Yeah, bye. (back to Cobain) What took you? Reznor lowers the phone. Dabs at his forehead, eases himself up. Cobain stares up at the soldering turret. COBAIN Long story. Jeez, what'd you do? Pull a bazooka? Another gurney is carried out from the building, a black dodybag atop it. PARAMEDIC LEADER (loudly to all) Anyone I.D.'d these wackos? Cobain passes him, tosses the file on top of the bodybag. COBAIN Here. Mix'n'match. They reach the store's front door. A black-outfitted SWAT LEADER storms over, waving a paper sheet in Cobain's face. SWAT LEADER Cobain...hey! You know anything 'bout this? COBAIN Hi, Lee. SWAT LEADER Some asshole faked my signature on a rec. form! Myguys were dragged out of bed at one in the morning! COBAIN Yeah...you did a great job, by the way. Hate to think what'd've happened if you hadn't made it -- INT. MAIN STORE - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - SUNRISE (CONTINUING) Dawn filters through the shattered window as they pass amoungst the bookshelves. COBAIN Interpol came up aces on the photographs. Guy called Karswell from England, Fulci from Italy...etcetera, etcetera. Turned out these guys were some sort of... Millenarian, Nihilistic sect. Reznor shucks-off the splint, casts it aside. REZNOR Let's hear it for the forces of irony. INT. SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER. - "SAMHAIN BOOKS" - SUNRISE WHAM! A POLICE PHOTOGRAPHERS FLASH GUN goes off. Victim chalk marks are all around..one has an irregular puddle where the head should be, another has its heat drawn yards from the body. COBAIN Holy Frejole... REZNOR Yeah. Invite a few pals 'round for a little harmless human sacrifice, look what happens. Cobain takes a look around, notices the room. Sees the "Penticon". REZNOR (cont'd) I'm telling you, Jack...whoever he is, this guy's an elemental force of nature. Iced eight of 'em, all told. I pumped a half-clip into him. Zip effect. Cobain pauses at the Cross. Runs his finger through some ashes there (the flaky remains of the Goth sacrifice). COBAIN Kevlar, most likely. Any leads? REZNOR (shakes his head) Spotters all over. Running operations outta Bethlehem P.D. COBAIN Good. Have the locals roll up the red tape, put it in a drawer till this is over -- Cobain looks around at the shattered roof. Spots a TECHNICIAN placing the Cults' camcorder into an evidence bag. COBAIN We actually get a recording? REZNOR Grandstand seats. (beat) The name "Jason Voorhees" jog any grey cells? COBAIN Sure. "Required reading' at the Academy. Bundy...Dahmer...Myers. Up there in the Pantheon of "All-Time Sickos." Our guys DX'd him...what? Years back. REZNOR I think we got us a copycat. Our perp had the same M.O. Machete...hockey mask...the works. Cobain freezes on Reznor's words. COBAIN "Hockey mask." REZNOR Yeah. What? Cobain looks carefully around. Drops his voice. COBAIN Let's talk somewhere. There's some very disturbing synchronicity shit going down here -- CUT TO: INT. BASEMENT BEDROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING Morning light filters in. Alice sits in the chair, a blanket across her legs. Dark rings circle her eyes. As she watches Jacob on the bed, he gives a gentle snore. She picks up her travel clock from the side. IT reads "7:20". ALICE Finally. INT/EXT. BASEMENT AUTOSHOP - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING Shelves line the walls, filled with auto parts. An old Pontiac raised on a ramp above the grease pit. An engine block dangles from chains nearby. Jessica has her head under the Lexus hood, hands buried deep within the engine bowels. A boom-box on the workbench plays ENERGETIC, THUMPING ROCK. JESSICA Now...what have we here -- ? HANDHELD, moving in towards Jessica's back. THreatening. We get the feeling she's about to meet an untimely end, as -- WHAM! Steven swipes her fanny with an automap. Jessica jumps, YELPS. Her head BANGING on the hood. STEVEN Gotcha! He swipes the oilrag from her back pocket. THWAPS it jokily at her. JESSICA Ow...goddamn! That isn't funny! He puts his hands on her hips. Kisses behind her ear. STEVEN Y'know - first time I ever saw you, you were bending over a crate of Gatorade at Joey B's. Know what I thought? She twists around to face him. Drapes her arms around his neck. Slow smile. JESSICA Tell. STEVEN You'd prob'ly blow it when you turned around -- She THUMPS him. Playfully affronted. JESSICA Pinhead. I hate you. STEVEN That so? JESSICA No. (they kiss) You heading off? Steven crosses to the exit. Takes his coat from a hook. STEVEN Yeah. I wanna hit Pittsburg quick, beat that Millennial gridlock. JESICA Well, watch yourself. Be a lot of rush- hour Rambos about. STEVEN (flip, quickly) I'll be sure to pack a machete. (catches himself, realizes) Sorry. You gonna do that church thing later? JESSICA I promised Father Shaye already. If you miss me, I'll drop Stephy over with Rachel. STEVEN Right. You know, you really should secure this -- The greasepit hydraulic controls hang loosely overhead on the end of a cable. Steven grabs it, stows it on a wallclip. JESSICA Steven? STEVEN Uh-huh? JESSICA I do love you. I know it'll work out okay. Steven winks at her. Throws the oilrag back. Jessica catches it deftly. STEVEN Never doubted it at all. Hey...be a good girl, I'll take you to the firework didplay tonight. JESSICA Oooh. Promises, promises -- INT. KITCHEN - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING A boiling kettle steams up teh window. Alice stands in a robe, stares outside. An air of loneliness about her. HER P.O.V. Jesica kisses Steven goodbye at the pick-up's open door. INT. BATHROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING The bathroom is tiled, cramped. Old-fashioned. A Heath-Robinson plumbed shower against the wall, a cream-colored plastic curtain hangs on the rail. In FAST-CUTS, Alice - tastefully - loses her robe. Steps into the shower, turns on the faucet. (Perhaps teasing our audience by emulating the "Psycho" showere scene). We END on a fatigued Alice, resting her forehead against a pipe. THE EDGE OF THE SHOWER CURTAIN MOVES SUDDENLY, as if caught in a breeze. TIGHT ON an ANGLEon oe part of the material as it UNDULATES...DIMPLES -- INT/EXT. BASEMENT AUTOSHOP - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORING Alice's Lexus is up on low portable ramps now. Jessica lies on a mechanic's trolley beneath. She forces something with a wrench - it SLIPS, clattering out from her grip. INT/EXT. BASEMENT AUTOSHOP - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING Alice's Lexus is up on low portable ramps now. Jessica lies on a mechanic's trolley beneath. She forces something with a wrech - it SLIPS, clattering out from her grip. JESSICA Ow! Dammit! She leans her head back, closes her eyes briefly... CUT TO: INT. BATHROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING (RESUME) Alice's breathing is shallow. Head bowed, eyes closed. Water cascades across her naked shoulders. the material of the shower curtain behind her STRETCHES, into one of the -- "NEW" FREDDY CLAWS...MORPHING to a full length of 18 inches. A SECOND emerges...a THIRD, a FOURTH. Flexes -- CLOSE ON ALICE...same position, still oblivious -- AS A BUMP THE SIZE OF A PUMPKIN BULGES like a vac-form mold, high- up on the curtain. A HEAD -- AN ANGLE CLOSE ON ALICE, a great mass rising behind her -- A VERTICAL ANGLE, looking straight down. A HULKING FORM SWELLING IMPOSSIBLY OUT OF NOWHERE from the curtain -- A FAST CIRCULAR DOLLY from one side of the shower to the other as MIGHTY-THEWED ARMS STRETCH OUT to encompass Alice -- TIGHT ON ALICE'S HEAD, the claws enveloping it. A TINY MOVEMENT...preparation to CRUSHING HER SKULL, and -- WHUMPWHUMPWHUMPWHUMP! The shower plumbing RATTLES NOISILY, the water flow drying-up...JOUNCING Alice back to consciousness. The ERSATZ PLASTIC FORM behind her COLLAPSES back into nothingness -- And Alice turns to see...A PLAIN PLASTIC SHOWER CURTAIN, billowing slightly in an unnerving fashion. She takes a breath, a little unsure. Tiny water droplets PLINK-PLINK away down into the drain... CUT TO: INT/EXT. BASEMENT AUTOSHOP - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING (RESUME) TIGHT ON OIL DROPLETS PLOPPING on the floor. Jessica's still under the Lexus, struggling with the protesting nut. JESSICA Damnation -- Oil SPECKLES her face as she shifts position to gain better purchase. Jessica brushes her cheek...it comes off, a BLACK SMUDGE. The SPATTERING increases as she pulls harder on the wrench. She swats in annoyance at it -- -- STREAKING her hand in a LONG RED SMEAR. JESSICA (cont'd) What the -- ? A VIBRATION starts up, the car JUDDERING atop the ramps a sif in an earthquake. Jessica panics -- JESSICA (cont'd) Shit! She KICKS the trolley RAPIDLY away as -- -- ONE OF THE RAMPS COLLAPSES, the Lexus part-rolling/part- collapsing back down onto her thights, pinning her to the floor. She SCREAMS IN PAIN, pulling at her trapped leg. We see BLOOD TRICKLE OUT from beneath the vehicle (at this stage, perhaps we even think it's Jessica's own). VAPOR BILLOWS AROUND the edge of the hood as she tries to tear her limb back, the car SHAKING and RATTLING like a possessed beast. (NOTE: this will be SHOT IN REVERSE, so the steam will appear to flow INTO the hood from nowhere.) Jessica's leg comes free, deep gouges TEARING into her coverall. She pulls herself away, WHIMPERING as a SHEET OF BLOOD EMERGES...spreads. Her jaw working in disbelief -- ANOTHER VERTICAL ANGLE, dark liquid expanding on all sides. The hood ROCKS and JUDDERS, THICK SMOKE now. Jessica steels herself, limps forward. Slips on the slick gore, her hand coming down on the hood and -- -- LOOSES AN AGONIZED CRY. The flesh of her palm SEARS as if touching a griddle, a NOISE like SIZZLING BACON, and -- THE HOOD SPRINGS UP, YANKING Jessica with it. A VACUUM ROARS below, her free hand flailing as it tries to suck her down into -- -- FREDDY'S HELLISH FURNACE! Impossibly positioned ay below where the engine should be, feeder pipes BELCHING. The filthy grating doors open, FLAMES ROARING. Then -- JESSICA Nooooo -- ! A BLAST of superheated air sends her flying, SPLASHING down onto the floor. The hood SLAMS BACK DOWN...we see why. The massive "New" FREDDY CLAW embedded in it, a MALFORMED HAND going OUT OF FRAME. There's a DEEP GROWL, O.S. A GREAT SHADOW LOOMS across Jessica. She looks up. GASPS, and -- INT. BASEMENT AUTOSHOP - MORNING (BACK TO REALITY) -- JOLTS AWAKE with a LOW CRY, beneath the car again. Jessica gathers herself, and -- There's A FLASH OF SILVERED METAL. Something half-lodged up in the chassis swings down at her. A QUICK IMPRESSION of an edged blade -- And Jesica CRIES OUT as she propels the trolley back out into the autoshop -- And Alice is standing there, coffe mugs in her hands! Jessica YELPS in suprise...Alice YELPS back, drops one of the mugs. It SHATTERS on the floor. JESSICA Jesus! ALICE Oh, God...I'm sorry. JESSICA You scared the lights outta me! ALICE I, uh...brought coffee. JESSICA Normally, I take it in the cup. They look at each other. Both LAUGH. A bonding moment... CUT TO: INT. BETHLEHEM POLICE DEPARTMENT - MORNING WIDE ON a busy and brightly-lit open-plan Precinct. Usual Cop Stuff going on, the occasional CRIMINAL and HOOKER being dragged off to a holding pen. We see Cobain and Reznor within the Captain's cubicle. Smack in the middle, a perfect GLASS BUILDING-BLOCK. HEAR the SACRIFICIAL INCANTATION again, O.S. LEAD CULTIST (O.S., on T.V. speaker) "Lord of Gehanna...keeper of the Fallen Spirits of Darkness -- " INSIDE THE CUBICLE NOW, CLOSE ON A VIDEO MONITOR. We see the Goth Girl thrashing around on the Cross. GOTH GIRL (O.S., on T.V. speaker) "Crazy freako psycho bastards...let me go! The contents of Manfredini's pouch are spread across the table, the men sifting through it. Reznor's turns the pages of the Necronomicon. Stares at the indecipherable runes. REZNOR I can't understand didley-squat. COBAIN They could... Reznor picks up the sheathed Italian parchment in his hand. Shakes his head. REZNOR A hockey mask. This is one big fucking coincidence...you wanna turn that down? It's giving me a headache. Cobain's inspecting a somewhat plain dagger sesting in a plush wood-and-velvet travel case - in fact, on of the Horvath Daggers from the ITALIAN PROLOGUE. He complies, thumbs the T.V. volume lower. Nods at the drawing. COBAIN Recognize that claw? REZNOR Apart from "nope"? COBAIN "The Springwood Slasher"...Frederick Krueger. Child killer. REZNOR Yeah, wait. I remember. Misfit with a Beau Brummel complex? COBAIN The same. Carved a swathe through a little Ohio town a bunch of years back. Literally. Vigilante group torched him after the Cops gummed up the arrest papers. Our dead ecclesiast's got it all here in black-and-white -- He throws a clip of shets over to Reznor. REZNOR Yeah. His mother was a...missionary, nun or something. COBAIN (frowns, thinks) Nun? REZNOR What? COBAIN Nothing. Skip it -- Reznor's forehead knits as he studies the parchment. REZNOR You're talking about current events. This sucker's suposedly over 300 years old...! He waves it in emphasis. His attention distracts as the Cultist's recording WHITES-OUT in a BURST OF STATIC. REZNOR (cont'd) Wonder why it glitches there...? COBAIN Manfredini had the whole run-down on the bookstore Cult too. Lot of other weird stuff. "The Fatima Prophecis"..."The Kali Yuga", a great conflagration meant to destroy the known Universe... REZNOR That case, you're gonna love this -- He holds up another 8 x 10 for Cobain. "Before-And-After" ASTRONAMICAL SHOTS, stars against velvet blackness. REZNOR (cont'd) Jet Propulsion Lab...Hubble Space Telescope. NASAA say the outermost stars are dissappearing. No-one knows why. Cobain makes a face. Continues reading. COBAIN Creepy... (a beat) Something about Enochian Myth. Lucifer in an eternal contest for human souls. Notes too 'bout what the Chippewa Indians call "The Great Purification." Hurricanes, land upheavals. Earth's magnetic poles switchin' polarity around. THis look familiar to you...? He holds up a glossy 8 x 10. The "Penticon" shape against a jet- black background, surrounded by a colorful "Kirlian Aura". Reznor recognizes it. Double-takes... REZNOR Hey! That's -- Cobain flips the picture 90 percent. Reads the edge reference. COBAIN Yea. Except it's not. "Tachyon Path of A Charmed Anti-Quark"...Lawrence- Livermore, Quantum Particle Research. REZNOR Sounds like a six-pack conversation to me. COBAIN Later. And it's your round. REZNOR YOur dreams -- Reznor pulls out a cigarette. Just as he lights-up, a LADY CAPTAIN appears at the cubicle doorway. Gets his eye. LADY CAPTAIN Hey..."Club Fed." Don't you read? She nods to the "No Smoking sign dangling from a string. REZNOR Shouldn't you be out on a ledge somewhere, Captain? Reznor stubs it out in annoyance. LADY CAPTAIN Metallurgy got some odd scrapings from the crime scene. Running it through the lab now. COBAIN Thanks, Captain. She nods. Leaves. Cobain continues. COBAIN (cont'd) So - summary. We've got "The Man Who Knew Too Much" croaking it on a plane -- REZNOR Right. A store full of toasted creeps and wad of "End-Of-The-World" guff right outta "The Omen" -- COBAIN This Voorhees character on the one hand, Krueger on the other -- REZNOR "Freddy versus Jason." COBAIN Yeah. Who'd you lay money on...? (beat) Where's the glue that puts it together? REZNOR I don't wanna stick my titanium neck out, but...this is who he was flyin' over for -- He passes over a sheet. Cobain scrutinizes it. Nods. COBAIN One's local at least. (beat) Life was so much easier in the old days. REZNOR Yeah, but nowhere as interesting. COBAIN Let's do it. CLOSE ON THE SHEET. One above the other, PHOTOCOPIES OF ALICE JOHNSON AND JESSICA FREEMAN'S DRIVER'S LICENCES... CUT TO: EXT. DRIVEWAY - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING Jacob leans against the garbage cans. Stephanie sits chalking a hop-scotch grid on the driveway. STEPHANIE "Four, Five --" JACOB No, it's "Three, Four --" STEPHANIE That was the last part... INT/EXT. BASEMENT AUTOSHOP - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING Alice leans against the doorframe watching the kids. JESSICA (O.S.) I got it. Alice turns. Jessica slides out from the car with a triumphant look, something wrapped within the oily rag in her hand. JESSICA (cont'd) Found your McGuffin. TIGHT ON ALICE. (In B.G. we nothice an ICE-CREAM VAN draw up to the roadside, it's TINKLING MUSIC FILTERING-IN O.S.) ALICE What was it? JESSICA Real trippy. Lodged amongst the chassis cabling. Must've bounced up fairly hard from the road. Alice takes the soiled bundle. Opens it, and -- SHRIEKS! Jerks it away on reflex. The contents hit the floor with a DISCORDANT CLANG. Straight away we recognize TWO MANGLED METAL FINGER BLADES attached to A PIECE OF TATTERED LEATHER. THE REMAINS OF THE "OLD" FREDDY CLAW. ALICE Oh my God! No -- JESSICA What's wrong? Alice takes a part-step back in absolute disbelief. ALICE No...it...he's dead...gone -- JESSICA Who is? At that second, we realize the ICE CREAM VAN MUSIC has altered (on the SOUNDTRACK, for our benefit) to THE FREDDY NURSERY RHYME THEME. Alice WHIRLS -- -- As Jacob and Stephanie SING ALONG the MATCHING LYRICS, playfully argumentative over the wording. JACOB "One, Two - Freddy's coming for you." STEPHANIE It's "Jason". JACOB It's not -- STEPHANIE It is. "Jason's coming for you"... Jessica calls past Alice, annoyed. JESSICA Stephy, I told you to quit with that dumb song. Alice turns on Jesica. ALICE You know that rhyme?! JESSICA (confused) Sure, it's a playground song. From Lake Crystal. Kids used to sing it, help keep away the bogeyman...what is that thing, anyhow? She nods at the mangled "Fredy fingers", glinting evilly in the morning sun. We END on ALICE, visibily disturbed... FAST TIME CUT TO: EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE FREEMAN HOUSE - AFTERNOON (LATER) LOW ANGLE, TIGHT ON a BEHLEHEM P.D. BLACK-AND-WHITE as it parks smartly at the sidewalk. INT. LIVING ROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - AFTERNOON Alice is sitting on eht couch, shell-shocked. She stares numbly at the mutilated knife-fingers on the low table befor her, a still-full coffee cup gone cold in her hands. The T.V. plays a news report in B.G. T.V. REPORTER (O.S.) "The National Science Foundation at Antartica today reported unprecedented fluctuations in the Earth's magnetic fields --" INT. KITCHEN - FREEMAN HOUSE - AFTERNOON (CONTINUING) Jacob and Stephanie observe Alice concernedly. STEPHANIE Is she alright? Jacob shakes his head, worried. INT. LIVING ROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - AFTERNOON (CONTINUING) Alice starts as the DOORBELL RINGS, O.S. INT. BATHROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - MORNING Jessica's under the faucet, shampoo spilling from her hair. JESSICA (shouts) I'm in the shower! EXT/INT. FRONT DOOR - FREEMAN HOUSE - AFTERNOON Alice cautiously opens the front door to be confronted by Cobain and Reznor. Two COPS sit in a parked Cruiser behind Cobain's car at the sidewalk. Expecting Jessica, the Feds register Alice and DOUBLE-TAKE -- COBAIN Mrs... (a beat, confused) Alice Johnson? Alice is equally flummoxed now. ALICE (hesitant) Yes? Cobain and Reznor exchange a "What The Hell?" look. REZNOR This...is the residence of Mr and Mrs Freeman? ALICE (nods her head) I'm staying temporarily. Is there some kind of problem? Cobain flashes his badge. COBAIN Federal Officers, Miss Johnson. Might we talk...? An ELDERLY WOMAN NEIGHBOR peers through a window across the street, while a MAN stares fixedly at Alice from watering his lawn. Alice nods, opens the door further. We see Jessica emerge in B.G., towelling her hair -- CUT TO: INT. BETHLEHEM POLICE DEPARTMENT - EVENING Jacob and Stephanie sit at a desk scribbling colorful drawings. Reznor appears with a cut-out tray of drinks. REZNOR Who gets the Sprite? STEPHANIE I do! Reznor places the drinks down. Glances at the drawings GARISH REPRESENTATIONS of MONSTERS and FIRE. REZNOR Very colorful. JACOB We're running out of red. REZNOR I had that feeling also. IN THE CUBICL NOW, TIGHT on the VIDEO MONITOR. JASON'S KILLING MASK on STILL-FRAME-ADVANCE. JESSICA (O.S.) It's similar, but...I dunno -- WIDER. Cobain sits opposite Alice and Jessica as Reznor enters, puts down the remaining cups. Alice is perusing the Vatican documentation (we clearly see the parchment). ALICE Ceremonies, daggers...None of this makes any sense. We see Jessica react to "dagger". JESSICA Yeah. Why us? REZNOR Poser of the hour. Except, the only person can answer no longer qualifies for brerathing status. COBAIN The pouch and its contents were being delivered expressly for you. We're trying to contact Rome. Unfortunately, the lines seem to be down. Overhead fluorescents SPUTTER, the T.V. monitor and computer terminals flicking off. The VCR clock resets to "0:00". REZNOR Brownout again. REZNOR (continuing afresh) Eight years ago, opposite ends of Ohio State. two separate spates of multiple homicide, bearing all the hallmarks of deceased serial killers to whom you were both in some way connected. Apparently unrelated...until now. Alice and Jessica's gaze falls to teh Vatican parchment. They catch each other's eyes. ALICE As far as I was concerned, Freddy Krueger lies dead and buried. I've a kid now I don't want him exposed to my demons. Reznor SQUEAKS the battered Freddy blade, like you might play with a crab claw. REZNOR When something of this magnitude crops up, Miss johnson, I'd look on it as something more than coincidence. Frankly, this story about a loony who comes after you in your dreams -- COBAIN (interjects, placatory) -- It's a little far-fetched. He tosses it down onto the paperwork. JESSICA For all you know, this might be just one more sicko out to get his jollies -- COBAIN -- Like the one four years back? Jessica shifts. Reznor reacts as she pulls out a cigarette, moves forward the "No Smoking" desk notice. REZNOR Sorry...there's, uh, no smoking here. She shoots him a look, ignores him. Lights it. Reznor fidgets uncomfortably with the sign. COBAIN The Vatican's Been compiling detailed files on you both for some time, yet you say you've never met before yesterday. What do you reckon the odds are on that? ALICE What do you want from us? COBAIN Just coopereation. REZNOR Mrs Freeman, your husband's not back from Pittsburgh untill tonight? JESSICA That's right. Are we under arrest? COBAIN No. REZNOR We will be stationing units on block perimeter around your house, though. For your protection. EXT. BLUFF - OVERLOOKING BETHLEHEM - LATE AFTERNOON (DARK) A LIGHTNING BLAST, JASON'S UPTURNED MASK clearly reflecting the turbulent darkness above. As he drops his gaze, we notice the chrome corroded more substantially than before. WIDER NOW. We CRANE UP behind Jason, Bethlehem's houses spread out neatly below... CUT TO: EXT. FREEWAY - EN ROUTE TO BETHLEHEM - NIGHT Steven's pick-up speeds along a rain-slicked road. INT. CAB - STEVEN'S PICK-UP TRUCK - NIGHT Steven drives along, squinting through the windshield. Pummeling rain renders the wipers impotent. BURSTS of STATIC cut across the radio O.S., tuned to a MUSIC CHANNEL. STEVEN Come on...come on -- An INTENSE LIGHTNING FLASH like a H-BOMB BLAST - dwarfing everything we've seen before - EXPLODES, blinding Steven. STEVEN Jesus! The car swerves, his headlight beams FLICKERING. The radio going NUTS -- EXT. FREEWAY - EN ROUTE TO BETHLEHEM - NIGHT Streetlights EXPLODE in SHOWERS of SPARKS, and -- A ROAR OF THUNDER like the CRACK OF DOOM ECHOES horizon-to- horizon. Intermittent FLASHES within the clouds as a great RIPPLE - like an ocean wave - SWEEPS across the sky. INT. CAB - STEVEN'S PICK-UP TRUCK - NIGHT The pick-up spins through 180 degrees as Steven jams on the brakes. He looks at the driver's compass mounted on the dash. The needle is spinning madly around. Peers back up at the sky. STEVEN What in the hell was that...? CUT TO: COBAIN This curent guy's killed at least eight already. Genuine or not, he might be following an agenda. JESSICA I have to attend Mass this evening. COBAIN That's fine, as long as you stick to public places. Miss Johnson, we'd appreciate it at this time if you didn't make plans to leave. ALICE Alright. REZNOR I'll drive you back. Stay with you until Mr Freeman returns. Reznor rises, prompting everyone to follow suit. COBAIN We want to assure you of your safety. Anything tries to get to you, gotta go through us first. Alice opens the cubicle door. ALICE Kids...come on! Jessica pauses. Turns to Cobain. JESSICA Agent Cobain. If you're wrong about this...then you have no idea what you're really dealing with. EXT. PARKING LOT - BETHLEHEM P.D. - LATE AFTERNOON (DARK) Alice and the kids pile into the rear of a Black-and-White. Reznor pauses at the open passenger-side door. Looks up as the clouds boil oddly. REZNOR Boy. It's shaping up a Hell of a day... As THUNDER BOOMS, we -- FAST CUT TO: INT. "BLACK-AND-WHITE" - STREET - NIGHT Reese and Foley sit on night duty, bored out of their minds. Reese is thumbing shells into a riot gun. Foley's eyes are closed. We HEAR the THUNDERCLAP REVERB O.S. REESE What was that? FOLEY Ten more lousy cents on my paycheck. We see the SPARKIGN CHRISTMAS TREE across the road reflected in the car's side window. Foley opens her eyes, annoyed. FOLEY (cont'd) That tree's pissing me off. REESE Why are you so irritable? FOLEY You jacking me? THe entire planet's out partying like it's 1999, and I pull short- straw with G.I. Joe. Life's unfair... REESE Hey - pardonez-moi. (a beat) Say...isn't that one of the Feds down there? Foley straightens, squints. FOLEY Yeah -- EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT The black-and-white flashes its lights at Reznor as he stops outside the house. He nods back in return. EXT. REAR GARDEN - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT Reznor sits on the swing in the overgrown garden. Looks up to see Alice closing the living room drapes. Drops his cigarette and GRINDS it underheel... INT. LIVING ROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT Alice turns away from the window. Jacob is messing with the T.V. remote, but all the channels are fuzzy. JACOB Mom, I can't get "Destroy All Monsters" on the Movie Marathon! ALICE C'mon. Leave it alone, Jake. She sees Stephanie sitting quietly off to the side. ALICE You okay, sweetheart? STEPHANIE Alice...monsters aren't coming after us are they? ALICE No, sweetheart. Even if they were I'm here, and your mom and dad'll be back soon. STEPHANIE Jake says if they come in our sleep, you can kill them. Jacob flashes a look of alarmed betrayal. JACOB I didn't! ALICE I don't know about that, but...if you want me to , I can be right there in your dreams with you. STEPHANIE For real? ALICE Honest injun... The girl looks reassured at this. Smiles. CUT TO: EXT. CHURCH - BETHLEHEM - NIGHT Bright interior lighting filters through the stained glass like a beacon in the night. INT. CHURCH - BETHLEHEM - NIGHT The pews are packed, Jessica a few rows from the front. She covers her mouth suppressing a yawn. An ELDERLY MAN alongside glares at her. Up on the pulpit, FATHER SHAYE is delivering the last Mass of the Century. FATHER SHAYE -- And though tonight is a time of celebration across the world, it's also one of great uncertainty...many evils stalking us into the new Millennium. I ask you all now, to bow your heads -- At the corner of her vision, Jessica notices a nun staring at her. We suddenly realize this is Amanda Krueger. CUT TO: INT. CORRIDOR - BETHLEHEM P.D. - NIGHT Cobain is on the way out, shucking on his coat. The Captain crosses him, stops. LADY CAPTAIN Cobain...the lab boys finished those metal tests before they went off. COBAIN Anything? LADY CAPTAIN Only that the scrapings evaporated. COBAIN Say what? LADY CAPTAIN Yeah, like whatever it was from, was disintegrating at an incredible rate. That make any sense to you? COBAIN About as much as anything on this case does. Hey - if Reznor gets here, tell him I'm out playin' to the peanut gallery. LADY CAPTAIN You got it. Hey, Happy New Year! CUT TO: INT. CHURCH - BETHLEHEM - NIGHT (DREAM SEQUENCE) Jessica's dog-tired, her chin dropping in fatigue. She catches herself. Looks up at the STAINED GLASS on a nearby wall. A SHEPHERD leading his flock before a HALOED SAINT. We hear Father Shaye's VOICE DRONING IN-AND-OUT O.S. FATHER SHAYE (O.S.) The Lord...path...triumh. All...things -- Jessica's head wilts again, her eyes springing back open -- But the window has chaned now...a BRAZEN IMAGE of the LAMBS being BUTCHERED by the gleaming blades of the "Old" Freddy and Jason...actual blood seeping out from the glass wounds. Jessica GASPS. Turns her head -- -- And the man next to her is now a GRINNING DESICCATED CORPSE! We go WIDER as she SCREAMS, showing her amongst a SEA of SKELETONS. Her face turns to teh pulpit -- -- Where Father Shaye has changed. A red/green "dog collar" ...sickly veined complexion, pale eyes. A nasty grin revealing discolored teeth. FATHER SHAYE No more virtues! No salvation! The End of it All! As he spreads his arms wide, Freddy-claws extending from his bare fingers, we -- SLAM CUT TO: INT. CHURCH - BETHLEHEM - NIGHT (BACK TO REALITY) -- Jessica JOLTS awake as the real sermon ends. EVERYBODY Amen. She doubles-over, violently RETCHING. CUT TO: INT. "BLACK-AND-WHITE" - STREET - NIGHT (DREAM SEQUENCE) Foley stares out at the bedecked Christmas tree. Straightens with a frown as the entire tree SHAKES oddly. Abruptly, half its lights extinguish -- FLOLEY Reese? REESE Uh-uh? FOLEY Stay here. I'm taking a look across the road. EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT As Foley crosses the street, the tree's remaining lights SNUFF OUT, plunging it into darkness. She cautiosly unclips her holster, and -- The tree EXPLODES into BRILLIANCE, alternate green/red bands strobing along its length. FOLEY (cont'd) Someone pinch me. She nears the tree. Begins to circle it, looking up. The branches RUSTLE again. FOLEY (cont'd) Okay, come on out of there... She squints at the DEFORMED ANGEL atop. Then -- WHAM! A MASSIVE PINE-NEEDLED BRANCH ARCS OT from teh tree, PUNCHES with PILEDRIVER FORCE into the ground immediately to Foley's left...a SECOND SLAMMING DOWN to her right. She WHIPS out her gun, and -- RED TINSEL ERUPTS from the tree, hammering it from her grip. The colorful vines SPROUTING barbs in mid-flight...wrapping around her legs and knocking her off her feet. FOLEY (cont'd) No! Ahhhh -- ! The branches curl around her, lifting her effortlessly from the ground. The pine needles RIPPLE like one of those pin-sculptures, forming a MONSTROUS "NEW" FREDDY FACE. Foley turns helplessly towards the black-and-white, sees Reese sitting calmly inside. FOLEY (cont'd) Reese! Help me! Reese can't hear. The tree bends back, the "Freddy Face" PUFFING OUT and FIRING A BARRAGE OF THOUSANDS OF NEEDLES which slice into her flesh like flechettes -- SLAM CUT TO: INT/EXT. "BLACK-AND-WHITE" - NIGHT (BACK TO REALITY) Foley's safety belt is YANKED all the way to maximum strain, her WRITHING body levitationg to the ceiling. Resse's pump-action is sent SKITTERING into the rear seat. He tries to grab at her flailing arms. REESE Foley...Foley! Her THRASHING arm catches him, SMASHES him back against the window. Lacerations SLASH right through her blue tunic. OUTSIDE NOW. A GREAT WASH of BLOOD SPLATTERS against the windshield... a BEAT, then Foley's heavy boot PUNCHES through, splintering the safety glass. The driver's door WHAMS open, a shellshocked blood-splattered Reese half- stumbling/half-dropping to the ground. GULPS air, turns -- -- AND A BIG PAIR OF BOOTS WALLOPS INTO FRAME! Metal "DROPLETS" FIZZ to the ground, and Reese gazes right up into Jason Voorhees' killing mask -- REESE Shit! He DIVES back into the car, as -- JASON RIPS the passenger side door off, and -- Reece's hand falling about an inch from the shotgun next to Foley's dead face. Then -- -- WHUMP! He is YANKED back out of the vehicle by some Olympian force. Looks up as the Aztec machete draws back -- REESE Noooooo! The last thing Reese sees is the WHOOSH of a silver blade -- CUT TO: INT. BETHLEHEM POLICE HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT (DREAM SEQUENCE) Reznor sits at his desk going through the Vatican paperwork. We see everybody going about thier business outside. Reznor glances up as the Captain comes to the door. LADY CAPTAIN You still here? REZNOR Trying to make some sense from all this crap. You seen Cobain? She pauses. Thinks. Shakes her head. LADY CAPTAIN No. She goes away. Reznor returns to his perusal. Occasional words STAND OUT from the page: "Fatima, Portugal" ... "Megiddo" ..."Breaking of the Seals." He turns a page -- "Qryjcx. Fpzlw, rx ci hmwp". Reznor blinks. Turns the other pages, all filled with similar gibberish. Sits back, perplexed. Pulls a lit cigarette from the ashtray, pops it in his mouth. The "NO SMOKING" sign catches his eye. He contemplates it a moment, snorts. Takes a long suck. He stops. The sign has changed. "CAN'T YOU READ?" He gives a little COUGH, surprised. And AGAIN, getting BIGGER. The cigarette falls to the floor, sizzles... Reznor's SPLUTTERING like a trooper now. Smoke TRICKLES from his closed mouth. He opens it, and -- Smoke GOUTS between his lips, enourmous velocity...hazing the air. The open glass door SLAMS shut, the red dot on the rotary lock rolling to "LOCKED" position. Reznor lurches at a glass wall, BANGING on it to attract somebody's attenion...anybody. The Cops continue to pass-by as if nothing's happening... Reznor drops to his knees, SPITTLE hitting the tiles as -- Part of the thickening smoke in the air gains DENSITY. Becomes a FORM...a SMOKE WRAITH. A "Freddy Face." Reznor stares in disbelief through watery eyes. FREDDY Remember...smoking kills! The Wraith disperses, a GROTESQUE LAUGH hanging in the air -- -- And Reznor COUGHS HIS GUTS UP. Literally. Purple veined LUNGS SPLATTERING UP onto the hard floor. OUTSIDE NOW - the Cubicle a smoke-filled glass solid, people LAUGHING, wandering past as if this was an everyday occurrence. A BLOODY HAND SLAMS against the glazing, leaving an obscene smear as we -- SLAM CUT TO: EXT. REAR GARDEN - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT (BACK TO REALITY) Reznor slips from the swing, his chin WHACKING the seat. A THIN TRICKLE OF BLOOD SPILLING from his lips. He GASPS for breath, then suddenly -- WHOOMPH! He's JERKED to his geet as the chain wraps around his neck...TUGGED UPWARDS until inches away from Jason's chromed mask. We see his feet peddling uselessly in mid-air. REZNOR (strangled rattle) Hi... He SPITS a dappled SPRAY OF BLOOD into Jason's face. CUT TO: INT. LIVING ROOM - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT A handful of empty Budweiser bottles are on the low table. Alice sits alone on the sofa, watching an INANE T.V. ANCHOR covering the New Year's run-up. The reception is FUZZY, occasionally BLANKING OUT in BLASTS of STATIC. CNN ANCHOR (O.S., on television) "As you can see, even with four hours to go, this has to be the New Year to end all New Years. Certainly the largest capacity crowd I've seen...surely there isn't a person on the planet tonight who isn't getting on down --" ALICE (disgruntled) And sharks might cry... She gathers up the empties, heads for the kitchen -- INT. KITCHEN - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT Alice tosses the bottles into the trash. Opens the refrigerator. Pulls out a quart of milk -- KERSMASH! Alice JUMPS, the carton dropping to the linoleum. The MUTED SOUND of SPLINTERING WOOD filters in O.S. from somewhere in the house. MILK GLUGS unattended as she listens, frozen in fear. Her eye spots a lug-wrench amongst the dissembled parts on the kitchen table. INT. HALLWAY - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT The stairs leading to the autoshop are shrouded in shadow, a portal to dread. The noises have ceased. Alice FLICKS the light switch several times. No joy. She strains at the edge of her hearing -- Then JUMPS as the door right by her shoulder OPNES. It's Stephanie and Jacob. Alice untnses. JACOB Mom, there's something -- ALICE Back inside. Keep the door closed... The kids comply. Alice looks about her. Spots a chunky industrial flashlight atop a pair of coveralls. INT. STAIRWELL - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT Alice directs the flashlight beam, cautiously descending... INT. STEPHANIE'S BEDROOM - FREMAN HOUSE - NIGHT Stephanie FLIPS the key in the lock. jacob shoves a chair up under the door handle. STEPHANIE Get it in, tight... INT. BASEMENT AUTOSHOP - FREEMAN HOUSE - NIGHT Alice's flashlight picks out dangling chains and old machinery. She moves forward...taut, alert. The back door leading out into the garden hangs inward on one broken hinge the lock SHATTERED in pieces on the floor. She sweeps the beam around the silent room. Nothing. Finds the switch for the overhead fluorescents. CLICKS IT. The lightbars WHINE, flicker to life -- Jason is standing there right behind Alice, machete poised. Half the chromed mask is eroded away now, the flesh beneath scabrous and decomposing rapidly. She turns as Jason's Aztec blade PIERCES the air...eludes decaitation by a microsecond. It SEVERS a tuft of blond hair, EMBEDS itself into STROBE and FLARE chaotically. Alice's foot catches an OIL PATCH. She slips, falls heavily against a workbench as ELECTRICAL CHARGES CRAKLE up along Jason's arm, momentarily paralyzing him. The wrench falls from Alice's grip, CLATTERS just out of reach. Jason TUGS his machete free, sways a little before locking back on target. Two quick strides towards Alice as she SNATCHES up the wrench...brings it up in a clumsy movement which -- -- BARELY BLOCKS Jason's next strike. the ancient blade CLEAVES OFF the wrench's grip...BASHES Alice's forehead, cutting open a ragged scar. Alice SNAP-ROLLS aside, crawls for cover beneath the bench. She drags her foot in quickly as the machete WHOOSHES down, SPARKING on the stone floor. Alice crawls away for dear life. Jason closes like a heat-seeking missle, a hand CLAMPING around her ankle with a vice-like grip. Alice YELLS...begins to get dragged back. Her hand SHOOTS OUT, SNATCHES at the bolted bench leg. Knuckles whiting. Jason HEAVES MIGHTILY, and -- -- FALTERS back, Alice's empty boot clutched in his hand. He LUNGES forward, powerfully WRENCHING the workbench aside...TEARING the bolted legs up. Jessica's boom-box topples, starting up. LOUD SLAMMING ROCK MUSIC. Jason turns over a line of freestanding shelves