INT.

ASYLUM CORRIDOR NIGHT

The RUINED MAN escorting Grace was handsome once, but his
face is a ruin. Half of it caved in, one eye a weeping red
socket, his mouth sewn shut. His remaining eye is glassy and
still. He shuffles like a sleepwalker, but his hand is
gripped tightly around Grace's arm.
He drags her down the dark hallway. Twisted figures lurk in
dark rooms, revealed by faint glints of moonlight reflected
in their bright eyes.
Grace claws at the Ruined Man, her nails carve deep red
grooves into his pale, clammy flesh. He doesn't feel it, his
good eye doesn't flicker.
Down the hall, distant, a single room is illuminated. As they
approach, Grace sees a sign labeling it as DIATHERMIA
TREATMENT.
INT. DIATHERMIA ROOM NIGHT
The room looks like a 1920's electric chair. Black water
seeps down ruined walls. The ceiling is alive with wires,
connecting a gas generator to a black, wooden chair. A helmet
hangs from the ceiling. This is looks like a bad place.
And a girl sits on the chair, prim, proper, homely. Grace's
age. A quilt covers her lap, a work in progress. Her needles
and pins are at hand, idle. This is Millicent Tate. When the
ruined man pulls Grace through the door, she slowly cocks her
head to look at them.
MILLICENT
Grace Goodhue. My god, what a face.
GRACE
Do I know you?
MILLICENT
Were from the same town. Dont
worry, we didnt run in the same
circles.
GRACE
Youre Millicent Tate. The missing
girl.
MILLICENT
I am so much more than that.
The Ruined Man pulls Grace closer, affording Grace a better
look at Millicent's face.
It's a patchwork quilt of irregular pieces, each held
together with incredibly delicate stitching. Grace fights the
urge to recoil.
GRACE
Are you controlling this...
Gentleman?
MILLICENT
II made that Gentleman. Would you
like to know how?
INTERCUT WITH SILAS BLUNDERING THROUGH THE WOODS
Cool stuff happens here.
INT. DIATHERMIA ROOM -- NIGHT
The room has a skylight. Millicent looks up at it, the warped
glass frames a pale moon and the brightly shining gyre, it
looks like a eye formed out of a thundercloud.
MILLICENT
Beautiful thing, the gyre. My
mother always told me not to look
at it. I didn't listen. Have you
ever heard it sing?
GRACE
No.
MILLICENT
Youre being very brave. Do you
think your composure will save you?
GRACE
If youre going to hurt me... I
dont think me panicking will
change anything.
MILLICENT
You're right. And I am going to
hurt you. Now where was I.
GRACE
You were telling me about--
MILLICENT
Ah, yes. Two years ago, I found an
old cat in the street. It was
dying, so I gave it mercy. In
return I felt... pure joy, wet and
wild.
2.
(MORE)
When it was dead, it was in pieces.
And I thought to put it back
together.
She gestures to a corner. The remains of a cat cowers in a
corner. Hairless, crudely sewed together with twine. It
should be dead, but it's not...
MILLICENT (CONTD)
My needlepoint has improved with
practice.
GRACE
How can you do that?
MILLICENT
I do what I will.
GRACE
No, how?
Millicent moves the quilt off her lap. She has a half a dead
pigeon and a half a squirrel. It's been expertly sewn
together. She cradles it like a baby.
She dry heaves, like a cat with a hairball. A thick, viscous
liquid bubbles from her mouth and pools on the floor, like
molasses.
It moves. It crawls with a will of its own, up the side of
the chair, and it flows into the orifices of the dead hybrid.
The creature stirs and jerks to unnatural life.
MILLICENT
The Gyre has many gifts for those
who feed it blood. But a great cost
too.
Millicent touches the maze of stitches in her face.
MILLICENT (CONTD)
My face... it just won't stay on
any longer. And I should think to
spare the world the sight of whats
underneath.
Grace stares at the new life form in Millicent's lap. It
flaps to the floor then struggles like a colt taking its
first steps. Then she looks at Millicent, who eyes her with
an obvious hunger.
3.
MILLICENT (CONT'D)
GRACE
You're going to take my face.
You're going to cut it off, sew it
on, and wear it.
MILLICENT
Aren't you clever? Why aren't you
afraid?
GRACE
I dont know. I should be, but...
Grace looks at the Ruined Man. He's been staring at Millicent
the whole time in uncomprehending attention. She tugs at his
arm.
MILLICENT
Don't bother. He's a hollow thing.
He can't feel.
GRACE
I noticed.
The ruined man has Grace's flask tucked into the back of his
pants. His trousers are soaked in moonshine.
Grace pulls out her lighter and lights him on fire. She kicks
against him with all her might, freeing herself from his
grasp. He burns, but doesn't react.
Grace runs out the door.
MILLICENT
Get her!
The ruined man follows, but gropes blindly. The fire has
charred over the surface of his eye.
INT. ASYLUM CORRIDOR NIGHT
Grace runs.
4.