"CONSTANTINE" (2005)

CONSTANTINE

by

Kevin Brodbin

based on the characters appearing in magazines published by DC Comics, Inc.

previous revisions by

Mark Bomback

current revisions by

Frank Cappello

EARLY PRODUCTION DRAFT

November 14, 2002

FADE IN:

Glimpses of an ancient city. Almost motionless against the tide of time.

Sea swelled along an endless wall. Billowing silk frozen against the sky. Birds lighting on Byzantine columns.

FINAL IMAGE is of an imposing STRUCTURE beyond the trees.

Corridor of ancient stone and steel extends into infinite darkness. Stale air hangs in the dim half-light like atomized ether.

There is WHISPERING. And tangled VOICES.

DRIFT IN PAST prison cells the size of closets. Brief flashes of carved faces, insanity -- COMING TO REST ON the --

FINAL CELL

A gaunt PRISONER kneels on the granite, head bowed to a wall hung tapestry of Christ. But he's not just praying.

He's digging. With his arm under the tapestry, he scratches at the stone with a SPOON. After only a year, the spoon finally breaks through.

Prisoner claws his way between ancient walls, comes to a dead end against a thick wooden door. He nudges a shoulder against it, digs in and pushes. DOOR GROANS open, sucking air into the pitch black CHAMBER.

The tapestry covering the HOLE is pulled against the wall, then billows outward like a sail.

pulls himself inside, chokes in the heavy air. He scans the musty room. Antique furniture. A few empty crates. And the remains of several deteriorating skeletons.

He looks to the far wall, sees a hint of light above through the crumbling limestone. A way out. Too high to reach, Prisoner pulls an old CHEST out of a cobwebbed corner and slides it under the light.

He steps up onto the chest, grabs the edges of the hole and starts to shove off when the top of the chest gives way and his foot crunches through.

Prisoner reaches down to free his foot when he sees something inside -- wrapped in a red cloth. He pulls it out and as he unwraps it, he discovers the cloth is a Nazi flag.

At the center is a crudely-shaped IRON RELIC. Eight inches long. Stains on the edges. Could be the petrified tooth of some prehistoric animal. Or maybe an ancient arrowhead.

As he holds it, feverish sweat starts to form on his face.

MYSTERIOUS POV

From BEHIND. As if he's being watched by someone else. Prisoner spins, looks back AT us. Nothing.

PRISONER

starts toward the way out.

The Guard's flashlight beam probes the cell -- one by one -- falls on the tapestry. Christ billows out from the wall, revealing the hole.

ALARMS SOUND. Lights BLAST ON. Guards with weapons rush through.

Prisoner squeezes toward light, grips the relic tight.

SIRENS BLARE as SPOTLIGHTS sweep across the ominous structure. Prisoner breaks from the darkness, runs for the trees on the other side of the wall.

Prisoner spins, griping the relic tight. GUNSHOTS RING OUT. Bullets streak toward him but never hit their target. Guards check their weapons on the run.

Prisoner breaks from the trees, runs into a road. Headlights wash over him and TIRES SCREECH. Prisoner spins, is right in the path of a car.

BRAKES SQUEAL -- car locks up but too late -- IMPACTS Prisoner who is violently thrown and lands in a heap.

CAR slides to a stop. DRIVER jumps out, sees the front end sheet metal has accordioned all the way to the tires.

He scans the area for a body, spots the Prisoner and is stunned to see him getting to his feet. Uninjured.

Prisoner is just as amazed. He glances at the RELIC in his hand, notes the wrist has reddened and an odd SYMBOL has appeared as if embossed in the flesh.

Driver calls out but the Prisoner is spooked, runs off.

OVER this we hear -- A CHILD'S SCREAM.

Her body convulses, pulls against the bandages tying her hands and feet to the bed frame. Notice her fingernails. Drained of color. Almost black.

Her MOTHER is off to one side, completely hysterical.

On the other side is a crowd of bewildered TENANTS, all crammed into the hallway outside the opened door.

Nothing can compare with an exorcism. Especially one that's gone bad.

The rather obese Priest tries to steady his hands and his heart. It's obvious he's totally out of his league here.

GIRL lets out another SCREAM that ECHOES OVER --

Not in a third world country but smack center in one of America's richest cities. Sparkling high-rises tower in the distance while flashy billboards tout the sexiest fashions, the hottest automobiles and the smoothest malt liquor.

SUPERIMPOSE: LOS ANGELES - TODAY

A faded yellow taxi PULLS UP and stops. Someone steps out, grinds a cigarette butt into the asphalt.

Doors open, flood the musty darkness with a brief relief of sunlight. A MAN -- whose face we don't see -- steps inside, his trench coat hanging like the folded wings of a raven.

He pauses, pulls an ORNATE LIGHTER and lights a cigarette. Takes a puff and pushes on inside.

Lined with tenants trying to get a glimpse of the unexplainable.

The Stranger pushes through. Suspicious faces step out of his path. The ones that don't he pushes aside -- even the gangbangers.

The man has no patience for politeness, no time for tact, no fear of anything.

This man is JOHN CONSTANTINE.

He arrives at his destination, barges into --

One scan of the situation is all it takes. The bed -- the child -- the panicked priest -- who rushes to John.

John shoots him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a wide berth.

John walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a glance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing tip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the child's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor instantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of the little girl and whispers --

The girl JOLTS, bandages on her arms cut into her skin. Eyes snap open -- glare right through him.

John whips out a key chain crammed with medallions.

He holds them up so they cast shadows across Jeanie's face. He flips through each of these sculptured SAINTS until the child suddenly reacts to one -- tries to look away.

John stares at the Saint responsible, seems genuinely puzzled. He turns to the Mother -- very serious.

Shaken, the Mother produces a small compact. John pushes it away, turns to the doorway crowd.

The hallway crowd discusses possibilities.

Tenants run to retrieve a mirror. Hennessey looks worried.

John grabs the bed -- shoves Hennessey aside as he swings the bed around, legs gouging hardwood all the way. Faces it toward the window.

INTERCUT - APARTMENT 5G BELOW

Several of the MEN from the hallway crowd storm through an OLD WOMAN'S stuffy apartment, locate a huge iron- framed mirror and rip it and half the plaster from the wall.

JOHN

centers on a drapery ROPE, pulls hard. Drapery HOOKS EXPLODE off the curtain rod as he swings open the window, looks down into the alley where that yellow taxi is parked.

John frees the drapery rope, ducks back into the room.

Chaz shifts into reverse, moves the car three feet.

Four men struggle to carry up that enormous mirror. The Old Woman follows, begs them to be gentle. They swing the mirror around, take out a chunk of banister. She freaks.

Hennessey can only watch as John threads the drapery rope through the fire escape railing, drapes it back through the window and loops it over the ceiling fan.

He climbs onto the bed, leans over the child whose eyes have closed and she's shaking badly. Her body seems to be going into shock. Isn't strong enough for this.

John has no choice -- slaps her. Eyes pop back open. Dark and dilated. He yells down at her in Aramaic and English.

The girl chokes as if ready to spit.

Jeanie SCREAMS --

Her body suddenly PULSES half again larger. John recoils for a beat. Odd. He continues in Aramaic --

Another PULSE and this time a SHAPE is clearly seen expanding under the child's skin -- as if the demon inside were trying to burst right through.

John backs off -- watches as the shape ripples her flesh, like fingers caressing from the other side. John glances to Hennessey. What the hell?

MIRROR arrives at the doorway, BANGS against the JAM. John waves them in. The four men heft it into the room.

John ducks, settles on the girl as they raise it over him.

Hennessey is glad to be called into service -- quickly ties one end of rope to the mirror. John straddles the girl, positions his head between her and the mirror above him.

The men close their eyes. Muscles tense under the weight.

Jeanie reacts -- that SHAPE reappears, contorts the young body all out of proportion.

John unblocks the mirror for a second and Jeanie is reflected inside. It's not just the image of a young girl in there, but something else. The surface of the mirror FLEXES in the hands of the men. One starts to look --

Jeanie SCREAMS -- breaks free of the straps. She rises up, grabs John tight around the throat. Nails dig deep.

John struggles, puts his hands over her mouth -- cutting off her air supply. Question is, who's going to pass out first?

Jeanie's body is racked by whatever's inside her. She goes into shock, body collapsing -- shaking -- close to death.

But she's passing out first. John quickly takes the medallion that caused the earlier reaction --

-- and presses it against her forehead. Eyes snap wide and John unblocks the mirror. Jeanie locks on her reflection and the image in the mirror changes drastically.

The child's reflection has now changed to a pissed off DEMON. One that knows it just got suckered in.

MIRROR VIBRATES wildly in the men's grip. Demon reflection ripples the glass -- bending it outward into three-D space as the girl takes her last breaths --

Hennessey PULLS the rope with all three-hundred-plus pounds as John gives the demon face a full extended FINGER.

Demon pushes for him but mirror is jerked into motion. Swings right out the window but catches on a sliver of wood --

John jumps up and helps push the mirror free.

Falls SLOW MOTION from the 7th story -- tumbling end over end, sunlight beams glancing off the glass, PROJECTING the image of the Demon into the LA cityscape. ONTO buildings, sidewalks, a passing truck -- until all three hundred pounds of IRON AND GLASS come CRASHING down ON the taxi's hood.

Demon's image SHATTERS on impact -- GLASS SPLINTERING into a million diamond-like fragments that choke the air. The GROAN of something evil reverberates into the city beyond.

Chaz looks up, sees he missed dying by three feet.

Jeanie GASPS -- takes her first breath as a child again. And CRIES. Mother pulls her in, hugs her tight. Note the girl's fingernails. No longer black.

John's beat, reclaims that stub of a cigarette, still burning. Takes a drag. He pushes past Hennessey who is approaching the mother.

John slips FROM VIEW into the kitchenette, hides the fact that he has to lean against the door to keep his balance.

He catches his breath, looks up and is staring right at a child's crayon drawing magneted to the fridge. A drawing of a figure poking another in the side with a long stick. This image is repeated over and over.

John tugs it off the fridge, tucks it away.

Hennessey follows John down the spiraling stairs, passing the gathered tenants. A few are freaked, cross themselves. Others horrified. But many want to touch them, shake their hands.

A shadowy FIGURE several floors up stares over the rail at the heroes below. Note the slick suit, the polished veneer.

This is BALTHAZAR and he definitely does not rent here. He flicks an ancient COIN between his fingers.

JOHN pauses, gazes up through the stairwell as if sensing something. No one there. Balthazar is gone.

JOHN shakes off the feeling, continues down the steps where Hennessey is shoving his HAT in front of the tenants. They're gladly giving to the cause.

Hennessey stops his panhandling, continues toward the exit.

John and Hennessey stop near the front entrance. John rips the white collar from Hennessey's neck.

John rummages through his coat pockets --

John keeps searching.

John rips his smokes from the left vest pocket --

Hennessey starts to divvy the cash but John snatches the hat.

He gestures that bagged BOTTLE in Hennessey's jacket.

John stares at his pathetic friend, sighs, finally slips a few bills from the wad and hands them over.

Hennessey is bubbling with appreciation, starts to follow. John simply holds up a hand. Hennessey stops, watches John walk out. Alone.

John turns the corner, spots Chaz punching a dent from the taxi's hood.

Chaz slams the hood. They slide into the car.

Chaz reaches back into John's front coat pocket -- pulls out Hennessey's wad of cash -- slips off a few bills.

John grins, pulls his special lighter, lights a smoke and sits back.

He looks back up at the apartment, still puzzled.

Chaz crams the car in gear as John takes a drag, coughs.

One of those perfect days. With perfect clouds. So clear you feel you could reach out and touch Heaven.

Two young girls rise INTO FRAME on side-by-side swings. For a moment they're suspended against that incredible sky. Then gravity takes hold and they fall back to Earth.

The MAN is thirty feet down the same track. Their VOICES ECHO off the curved walls, come from everywhere.

How either of these two got here isn't important. Who will get out is.

Intermittent RADIO CHATTER buzzes from Angela's WALKIE- TALKIE. You get the sense Angela is not alone in here.

Angela checks the chamber -- sees she has one bullet left.

GROUND BEGINS to VIBRATE. Tunnel starts to GLOW.

Angela looks back, sees several SHADOWS of figures waving far off. Her RADIO is flooded with futzed CHATTER.

Angela peeks over the track. Still no sign of her perp.

The TRAIN is coming INTO VIEW and its BEAM shoots through the tunnel, turning every particle of dust into a supernova.

The SOUND is DEAFENING.

Angela looks back, squints into the brilliant LIGHT.

She grips her GUN and in one burst of flat-out bravado -- rises as she AIMS.

And there he is -- the Man rising with his own gun.

Angela FIRES as both dive off the track. His BULLET RICOCHETS behind her. Hers finds its mark. Man goes down right in the train's path.

Angela rolls over on the side of the tracks, catches her breath. She closes her eyes and crosses herself as the train roars past in a staccato blur.

Chaz's taxi pulls up, parks.

TAXI TRUNK

OPENS, REVEALS suitcases stamped with AIR INDIA. John starts inside, pauses as Chaz yells --

John walks in. Chaz curses under his breath.

Evening leagues are going strong. John walks in, looks totally out of place. He moves down the BALL RACK area, runs his fingers across the various leftovers, finally stops at a pearl-white dazzler.

He lifts it from the rack, steps out into the prep area -- in front of one of the few lanes not in use.

Number 13.

John snatches a grease pencil from the overhead, scribbles right on the ball -- "PROVISIONS DEPLETED."

He fluffs his trench coat back, steps onto the polished wood with his well-traveled Oxfords.

Young bowlers on both sides stop to look at this oddity. An attractive brunette is rather curious. John gives her a wink. Her boyfriend doesn't appreciate it.

John bowls. Perfect hook ball. Strike! Brunette grins. John returns the smile, heads into the hallway by the pool tables.

Seems small until you walk in and realize it's as long as a bowling lane. Makes that cage enclosed bed at one end seem like it's a mile away.

Chaz throws the suitcases on it as John arrives.

John pulls a chain and a wall of window shutters open.

Along the floor, encircling the entire room, are 5 gallon Sparkletts bottles. Each is adorned by a small hand- marked CROSS. John takes a moment to adjust one out of place.

John doesn't like his tone.

John gives him a knowing look, goes back to emptying his pockets.

Chaz sighs, starts out --

Chaz turns back, catches an object John throws him.

It's a dashboard air freshener shaped like a cow.

Chaz tips it. Moooooo. John finds it rather amusing.

Chaz leaves. John removes a small BLACK BOX from his jacket. He sets it carefully on its own shelf by the window -- stares out.

John turns to see BEEMAN waddle in.

This diminutive occult version of Bond's "Q" carries a custom bowling bag and squints in the light like a mole.

They shake hands. Beeman sets his bowling bag onto the table, unzips it.

Beeman starts pulling things out. First is a frayed RAG. Then glass containers...

Out comes a little MATCHBOX with a smiling bug graphic.

He shakes the matchbox and the BEETLE flutters inside. It's WINGS create an eerie HIGH-PITCHED WHIRL. John shrugs. So?

Beeman pulls out a set of sculptured BRASS KNUCKLES. Actually solid gold and engraved with religious markings. John takes them, tries them on. Nice fit.

John spots a foot-long COPPER TUBE in the bag, pulls it out, grips the bicycle handle on one end.

With this puny little thing? John gives the handle a squeeze and WHOOOOSH -- ten-foot FLAME BELCHES out.

Beeman shrugs, modesty. John starts to put it down on the table and Beeman quickly pulls the frayed rag away.

John picks it up -- You're shitting me, right? Nope.

Beeman just stares at him -- is this a joke?

Beeman sets down a bottle from the bag -- Vick's 44.

Lots of blue on blue in this parking lot.

Locker door opens and Angela is there, covered in the grime of the subway. She's pained as she pulls off her shoulder holster. Looks at herself in the door mirror.

Tired, aging eyes stare back.

Angela glances at DETECTIVE WEISS as he opens his locker.

The two exchange a look.

He meets her eyes. Exactly. He really does care.

Weiss breaks it off, leaves. Angela turns to close her locker door, notices her reflection does not turn.

She grabs the door, looks back in. Reflection is as it should be. She shudders, slams the locker door.

So exclusive there's not even a line out front. Just a pair of bouncers waiting to roll someone just for fun.

Chaz follows John from the cab to the entrance. A Bouncer selects a PICTURE CARD from a deck. On the front are TWO FLYING DOLPHINS. Only we can see the back, which is --

Yep. They let him pass. Chaz steps up and lucky him -- he gets the same TWO FLYING DOLPHINS.

But Chaz is stiff-armed because the back of this card shows a BEAR in a dress.

John glances back -- gives him an impassive look. Chaz backs away, stares after him. Someday.

MUSIC FLOODS this exclusive establishment. It's a clash of cultures and influences not easily dated. A retro speakeasy for the new millennium.

John walks through a maze of passages while the fantasies of a twisted city play out in the shadows. He pauses, sees a clan of suited businessmen in a corner, showing off for several ladies.

One fills a line of shot glasses from a pitcher of water. Another waves his hand over them, turns the water into RED WINE. The ladies are very impressed, drink up.

NICO, a young black man, walks past John.

John offers a half smile. He likes this kid, walks on. One of the men in the group turns, watches John. Balthazar. He grins and pockets that odd COIN.

John starts up a long flight of stairs, stops in front of two very large doors.

Their surface is ancient, the wood petrified over countless centuries. John places his fingers into the gnarled folds, closes his eyes --

A living GROAN BELLOWS from the rigid seams but the doors don't budge.

The doors unlatch.

SWEEP ACROSS a meticulously-crafted ORRERY, a scientific sculpture that normally displays our solar system in relative motion. But the planets here are ancient RELICS with symbols and names -- MATERIAL, ASTRAL, SPIRITUAL, ICONIC, etc. And the globe at the center -- "CREATOR."

This is an orrery of the forces of the Universe. And it's not moving.

John steps in through the doors behind.

PAPPA MIDNITE stands in the jungle he calls an office. Part African witch doctor, part savvy businessman. A full six and half feet of solid contradictions.

Midnite strides toward him when John calmly pulls from his pocket a small ebony and gold RELIC. It stops Midnite cold.

A reluctant grin cracks Midnite's stern features. He takes the relic in his thick fingers -- stares breathlessly at a gaunt figure bracing itself against a cosmic wind.

Midnite ignores his outstretched palm, slides the relic precisely onto one of the many rods jutting from the Universal orrery.

Midnite lets go and the complex machine actually starts to move. To turn.

John is somewhat intrigued until the newest relic collides with another and the orrery jams to a halt. Midnite deflates, stares at John, suspiciously.

The two have a mini stare-down. John's rigid poker face is only broken by a cough. Midnite sighs, breaks it off.

Midnite reaches into his tuxedo jacket and hands over a thick stack of HUNDREDS.

John stops the counting, actually thinks about it.

John suddenly spins toward the entrance doors, is stunned to see --

Balthazar is behind him. Utterly confident. Chillingly so.

John's attempt to disguise his anger fails.

John takes several steps toward him. Grins. Malevolent. There's history here.

John stops in his tracks.

Midnite's eyes say it all -- not here, not now.

John starts to cough again.

John tries to catch his breath, can't. And that scares him a bit. He tries to hide it, pushes out.

John SLAMS out the exit -- coughing. He pulls the Vicks 44 from his jacket, struggles with the child protector cap.

John is surprised to see Hennessey waiting. He chokes, is about to bust the Vicks 44 bottle. Hennessey grabs hold, twists off the cap with one flick. John guzzles the syrup.

John can finally breathe.

He instinctively touches an AMULET around his neck. Four intersecting crosses.

Hennessey vacillates. This is obviously tough for him.

John wraps an arm around his shoulder like a good buddy, then reaches behind his neck --

-- and unclips the amulet from Hennessey's neck. That unnerves the big guy. John drops it in Hennessey's pocket.

Hennessey takes one last sip from his drink, hands the bottle over. John downs the rest. Nods.

Angela sits inside.

FATHER GARRET sits on the other side of the mesh window.

Angela arrives home. Pours milk for a cat. Lets her hair down. Slips off her shoes.

Angela in the SHOWER -- trying to wash off the guilt.

Angela now in a recliner, cat in her lap. She's tired. Eyes are heavy.

Her eyes close.

Angela's eyes open. An Angela whose frightened features are dripping with a fever sweat.

She's in a hospital gown, stares around a corner.

Janitor polishes the floor in the distance. A nurse checks off charts in the f.g. And right between the two darts Angela, unseen by anyone.

A metal fire door swings open and Angela bursts out -- breathing deep. She runs across the tar roof, almost afraid to look back.

She gets to the ledge, steps up. A BOTTLE in the way fall -- FOLLOW IT DOWN TO the --

COURTYARD

-- where it SHATTERS --

The sound has drawn the attention of BARRY (10) lying in bed. He moves up and stares out the window -- sees the broken glass in the courtyard. He scans up the building and spots a FIGURE standing on the roof.

ROOFTOP - WIDER

Chilling April air flutters Angela's gown, vaporizes her breath. Tears stream down her cheeks as she contemplates the unthinkable.

Cityscape of lights are spread out below but Angela is seeing something else.

REFLECTED IN HER EYES --

is a city engulfed in RED FLAMES. Follow that tear with the same reflection of fire inside as it traces her cheek and slips into her mouth.

ANGELA shudders, rubs her wrist where we see the skin has swelled and reddened just like the Prisoner's. And there's that same circular symbol in the flesh.

She wipes her tears -- tries to be strong. Takes a few breaths for courage, them simply steps off.

BARRY'S WIDE EYES follow her down.

Barry approaches across the barren courtyard, leans down to Angela's contorted body. But she's still alive. Barry stares into eyes that are fading fast. He reaches out, touches her face. Eyes close. She's gone.

Angela stirs awake. Disturbed.

OVER this we hear INCESSANT COUGHING --

John switches on the light, leans up from the sink and wipes his mouth with a towel. It's covered with blood. More runs down the drain. He stares at himself in the mirror. ON John's worried eyes --

ANGLE - ANGELA'S EYES

looking equally distraught.

DAY

Angela is led by Detective Weiss past several officers and medical personnel.

They arrive at the covered body in the courtyard. Coroner sees Angela approach and lifts the sheet from the face.

Angela comes to a dead stop, emotions coming fast and furious.

She leans close and we see a mirror of Angela. That's when you realize that wasn't a dream. This is her twin.

But that circular symbol is nowhere on her wrist now.

Angela's eyes well with tears. It takes everything she has to stay in control. Helps to wrap herself in the job. She steps back, looks up at the tall building.

Angela gives him an incredulous glare. Shakes her head.

John marches down a hallway, his trench coat a step behind. He unconsciously rubs his left wrist, coughs. Flicks an unlit smoke between his fingers.

John stops at a doctor's office door -- hesitates.

View of the rooftop. There's Isabel in her nightgown, stepping up -- pausing just a second. Then one step and she's gone. So clear. So unrefutable.

WIDER

Angela shudders as a comforting HAND rests on her shoulder.

Angela brushes off his hand, then spots Weiss and the others on the other side of the room. Whose hand was that?

A LINE OF LIGHT BOXES illuminate several CHEST X-RAYS. A DARK sinister splotch snakes through both LUNGS. John stands there, stares at this wall of death with disbelief.

He raises a puny little cigarette. DR. LES ARCHER (50) sighs. A delicate bedside manner is not his specialty.

John tries to stay cool -- fails. He TRASHES the X-ray boxes. Diseased lungs disappear. Doc shakes his head.

John steps outside of the Doctor's office, pauses to gather himself. He starts walking. Wants out of here fast.

Angela is on the move. Emotions are coming in strong. She can't get out of here fast enough.

She aims for the elevators, sees a MAN has just entered one.

Angela, gets to the elevator, looks in. John stands inside alone. This should be the first time we realize they were in the same hospital.

John pauses as the doors start to close.

The doors close right on Angela.

A PICKUP TRUCK crosses a barren landscape.

In the back bed are several goats and one Prisoner.

He grips the relic tight in one hand. That anxious fever has returned.

Glazed eyes dart to the side and lock on a rising jetliner in the distance -- dart back to the road they're on -- heading the opposite way.

Prisoner clamps his eyes tight, grips to the relic tighter.

Eyes snap open and he turns, thrusts his elbow through the center window, leans in and grabs the Driver -- jerks his head back against the bulkhead -- cracking it in the process.

Prisoner latches onto the wheel, takes control. He swerves the car off the pavement, gets out and takes over as driver.

Truck continues on, bouncing through a shallow ditch and into the field beyond, aiming straight for the rising airliners in the distance.

Close to condemned status. SCAN UP floor after floor, COMING TO REST ON a window covered with aluminum foil.

Every wall of this tiny shithole is covered in aluminum foil. A sober Hennessey stands surrounded by decades of newspapers and periodicals -- tries to get his breathing in check.

He instinctively reaches to his neck to touch the amulet but it's not there. Oh yeah -- in the pocket. Decision made, he reaches up, starts tearing the foil from the walls and the window.

John sits at a park bench. Motionless. Taking in the world. Clouds passing the sun. Shadows drifting across the city. Leaves swirling after passing cars.

John just sits there, HEARING every breath he takes, wondering which one will be his last.

John turns to see ELLIE (23) strutting up the sidewalk. Uninhibited. Oozing sex appeal. But dangerous. In more ways than you think.

John stares at her, tries to get a read.

She sits right on his lap, playfully.

John lifts her off of him, sets her aside.

Ellie jumps off the bench, creates an odd SOUND as she does.

Ellie sits back down, strokes his arm.

Like scratching fingers across a blackboard. No way.

She gives him a kiss. And for a second John's leg is brushed by a tail. John doesn't react. Just turns and walks away.

Seen through a mild rain is the Theological Society building, a foreboding structure that looks out of place for this city. John stares out the back seat window, takes a swig from a bottle of hard liquor. He turns to Chaz --

Chaz gives the building another glance, shoves the meter flag back down. Tick... tick... tick...

A few bishops talk quietly. A cardinal studies Scriptures. Definitely not the place for atheists.

John walks through the vaulted chamber room to the --

LIBRARY

John stops, fixes on the two gentlemen standing in front of a fireplace. One is a young man of pure class wrapped in Armani's best. The other is Father Garret.

John stands to the side and waits for their conversation to end. An ATTENDANT makes the rounds.

Attendant turns to Angela standing just a few feet away, her gaze fixed on the same two men.

John glances over and for the second time they make contact. Something about her eyes. John stares a bit too long. Angela looks back toward the fireplace.

John gives her a look. The two men shake hands and start to part. John and Angela make their move toward the men. Both are surprised when Angela goes for Father Garret and John goes for --

-- the SNOB, officially known as GABRIEL. Yes, that one.

FATHER GARRET

and Angela have retreated to another area for privacy.

Father Garret stares at her, tries to be compassionate.

But Angela has just lost a load of faith.

BY THE FIREPLACE

Gabriel sits in his chair, watches the fire with unblinking eyes. John approaches from behind and against the backdrop of flame, sees the nebulous shape of wings. The ghostly image is visible for only a heartbeat.

John sits across from him.

Angela pauses on her way out, looks over.

Now he's really got Angela's attention.

John jumps up, leans into his face.

This more than anything gets under Gabriel's skin.

Gabriel stands and towers over John.

Gabriel moves right up to him, makes this very personal.

Angela stands on the porch at the edge of a downpour. She hears a cough, looks over to see John standing on the other side, looking equally frayed. They share another glance.

John fishes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Empty.

John tosses the cigarette pack, walks right into the RAIN, away from Chaz's taxi pulling up.

Angela watches John disappear in the rain, looks down at the empty cigarette pack.

lies on the floor next to food wrappers, Coke bottles and stacks of newspapers. Hennessey sits amongst the garbage, slumped over. But he's not sleeping.

He's surfing the ether. Allowing his sixth sense to guide him. His hands move down and across the stacks of newer periodicals, fingers probing the layers of information.

Left hand suddenly stops.

Hennessey's eyes open. He removes the layers of periodicals on top of his left hand, leans close. Edges his fingers away and sees an OBITUARY. A name -- Isabel Dodson.

John walks the streets, numb to the world. A rat scurries past near the curb. Then another. Several crows fly by.

Above him is a BILLBOARD - "YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT."

Doesn't matter that below it is -- "TO BUY A NEW CHEVY." The point is crystal clear. John shakes his head, breaks out laughing which quickly turns into a coughing fit.

He leans to a gutter. Another rat scoots past. John barely notices. Then a frog jumps past. But it's the crab crawling by that finally catches John's gaze.

John turns, settles on a silhouetted figure standing behind him, unlit cigarette butt in its mouth.

John gathers himself. As he walks over to this OLD MAN, he rummages through his coat pocket, retrieves a matchbox.

The box shudders as a high-pitch FLUTTERING filters from inside. Old Man winces as his entire body VIBRATES.

John realizes -- this is Beeman's matchbox, the one with the screech beetle inside. And now he knows -- a beat too late.

Old Man attacks.

John is knocked onto his haunches. As the Old Man closes in, he's revealed in more detail. Body and face are actually an intricate puzzle, an assemblage of city vermin. Rats, insects, crows, frogs, crabs -- all held together in the shape of a man.

John scampers backwards, just inches from this being's outstretched grasp. He shakes the matchbox and the screech beetle inside flutters again.

Old Man/Demon cringes as his entire body vibrates apart for a second, then snaps back together. He GRABS onto John with fingers of squirming vermin. Snake wraps around his wrist. Crab snaps at his skin.

John shakes the beetle box harder -- causing the parts to vibrate even further. Old Man grabs John's head and vermin of various leg count crawl right onto John's face.

John's had enough -- shakes the matchbox violently, then smashes it against the sidewalk.

BEETLE lets out a death SHRIEK and the Old Man stutters -- his parts vibrating so wildly you can actually see the b.g. through the seams.

John scampers loose, grabs a road barricade and swings it with all his might. Old Man form shatters on impact.

The entire mess collapses to the ground in a flood of scattering critters. John starts stomping on them as they scatter into the city.

John stands there, shocked and concerned. What the hell is going on?

That surveillance VIDEO FOOTAGE from Ravenscar plays again. There's Isabel in her nightgown walking across the roof.

Spread out on a cluttered coffee table is Isabel's case file. CORONER'S REPORT is opened. Let's see "NO DRUGS IN SYSTEM" and the biggie -- "Cause of Death -- SUICIDE."

Angela sits on the couch in her robe. Disheveled and distraught. She's taking this hard.

She lowers her head. And in that brief moment of silence --

Angela snaps back to the TV, freezes in shock.

There's Isabel ready to jump but this time she's looking right back AT us -- at Angela. Then she's gone.

Angela quickly rewinds the tape and watches the sequence again. This time Isabel doesn't look back. This time there is no name. But Angela did see it. Did hear it.

She sits for a second. Stunned.

John paces as Midnite works on that Universal orrery, adjusting components but balance continues to elude him.

John slams a fist against the counter. The orrery almost topples but Midnite saves it. Decades of work almost lost.

Midnite glares at a desperate John.

John just shakes his head, looks up -- convinced.

Midnite sighs, gives up with him.

The name JOHN CONSTANTINE is center screen on a monitor -- typed into the police station's SEARCH ENGINE.

Angela sits alone in the squad room, rain streaking across the windows.

Interpol comes back with results and a list of priors scroll under John's name.

Must be a hundred PARKING VIOLATIONS. Several SPEEDING tickets and a few RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT. In fact John's license has been REVOKED.

But it's the other incidents that draw Angela in.

BRIEF CLOSEUPS

Of specific words in a few HEADLINES -- "Occult activity on the rise..." "Claimed possession is refuted by Bishop..." "Satanic cult dissolved..."

Accompanies with an assortment of unusual case photos.

-- BLOOD PATTERNS on a WALL -- Odd SYMBOLS burned into a ceiling. A cross burnt to a crisp.

-- JOHN in handcuffs looking back at a mother holding her son in her arms. A younger and more noble Father Hennessey stands beside them, looking grateful.

Another line -- "INSUFFICIENT EVIDENCE to PROSECUTE."

Angela scrolls, sees cities listed where John has made waves -- LONDON -- PARIS -- ROME -- BUDAPEST -- MOSCOW. Stops on the one that matters -- LOS ANGELES. And there's an address.

Angela hits PRINT and the HP HUMS away.

A desk PHONE RINGS. Angela quickly looks around, sees she's the only one here. She gets up, answers it.

Dead air. The next PHONE RINGS. Angela reaches for it when the NEXT ONE RINGS, and the NEXT, the NEXT.

The RINGS HOP phone to phone in intimidating mockery.

Angela freezes, forces herself to stay calm. Sure enough, the RINGS abruptly CEASE.

Angela reaches over, rips the page from the printer, leaves.

A police guard scans passengers and a printout of the Prisoner. He walks past a man standing in the metal detector line.

This is actually the Prisoner wearing the clothes and glasses of the Driver. Is that a blood stain on the lapel?

Sweat drops from his forehead and he nervously places the iron relic in a bag he took from the truck driver. He has no choice but to place it on the conveyer belt.

MYSTERIOUS POV

Watching the Prisoner. He looks back AT us, suspicious. Nothing there.

PRISONER

looks back nervously, as his bag goes through the detector.

DETECTOR SCREEN

shows the folds of the bag, a wallet, a passport and nothing else. The iron relic doesn't even produce an outline.

Bag slides out, untouched. Prisoner can't believe his luck, grabs the bag and walks on toward the gates.

VARIOUS of the city -- the contrasts between the bright and cheerful and the dark and mysterious. That abandoned mission behind Bob's Big Boy, the Islamic Temple wedged between competing banks.

COME TO REST ON --

The towering statue of The Good Shepherd. His hands are welcoming us into the "HOLY CROSS CEMETERY."

Right across the street is the 20 Lanes Bowling Alley.

John drinks alone. Pissed at life. At death.

That small black box of his lies on the table unopened. Spider runs across the table. John flips an empty glass, traps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette, tips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't escape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.

John looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.

She did make an impression.

Angela sets her LAPD detective badge on the table.

Angela sits across from him, puts the badge away.

She looks for a reaction. None.

Another beat as their eyes meet. John looks away.

John just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.

John points -- toward the exit. Angela is not amused. But she's not giving up.

The words have hit so hard that Angela is speechless. John sees the hurt in her eyes, would like to take it back -- but it's too late.

She turns and starts out, slows --

John tries not to let that get to him. She leaves. He glances out the window, watches her pass by. So long. Good riddance.

But something's not right. Those deep shadows on the buildings seem to be moving. John watches, confused, realizes they're heading in Angela's direction.

He stands, gains his bearings. As he walks out he flicks the glass over. Spider runs free.

Cars are lined all the way down the street. Angela walks along the sidewalk unaware of the shadow following her.

It's joined by another in the trees -- both closing in with each step.

Angela looks back, sees John in the street.

She doesn't answer, continues walking. What she doesn't see are the shadows seeping back into the fringes. But John does. He starts walking toward her.

Angela keeps walking. He catches up with her.

Angela stares at him, continues walking. He keeps up.

They walk together down the lonely street.

Behind them, a streetlight BLINKS OUT. Then another. They're not looking back so they don't see it.

Another LIGHT FIZZES, blinks out.

They pass another streetlamp as it goes bright, then blacks out. Both look up.

The next LAMP FLARES then FIZZES OUT.

Angela turns and sees that there are no lights behind them. She looks to John. But he's staring straight ahead. Because now the light in front of them is FLARING BRIGHT.

Second later it BLINKS OFF. John grabs her hand --

Angela's confusion turns to tension as a raspy guttural WIND races toward them.

John jerks her into action. They run towards the next light. It blinks out right when they reach it.

They race to stay in the light, aiming toward the safety of the brightly-lit statue of the Good Shepherd.

They make it through the gate, pass through an alley of overhanging trees. Something RIPPLES through the branches -- flitters right past Angela's face. She swats at it, manages to get a branch across the cheek.

They near the Good Shepherd and the floodlights FLICKER, fade out. Statues of saints become dark monoliths.

John stops in an OPEN AREA between trees and a mausoleum. A lit CROSS on the wall provides the only illumination.

Angela feels the scratch on her cheek, sees a trickle of blood. Now she hears SOUNDS in the darkness. Like LEATHER RUBBING. Surrounding them.

John is just as surprised he's saying this --

John rummages through his trench coat -- fishes out that cloth Beeman gave him. The one supposedly wrapped around Moses.

The cross is getting dimmer and dimmer...

John quickly wraps the cloth tight around his hand. Angela spins, eyes seeing only darkness as the sounds get CLOSER -- ghastly sound of MOVEMENT in the fringes of light.

The cross now resembles a dying wire filament and with every second the circle of light gets smaller and those SOUNDS GET CLOSER. John takes out his special lighter.

They are now standing in pitch darkness.

John flicks the lighter and in one powerful motion -- sweeps his arm up as he lights his hand.

Sacred cloth catches fire -- then IGNITES with a brilliant retina-searing FLASH -- blinding Angela and illuminating a --

-- CIRCLE OF WINGED DEMONS -- a roiling broth of reptilian death -- right there -- ready to pounce.

RED FLAME radiates from the cloth and DEMONS SHRIEK as they are instantly vaporized.

John tucks his burning hand into a coat pocket, extinguishes the flame. He leans down to a rubbery stain left from one of the burnt demon carcasses. Shakes his head in disbelief.

John scans the area, trying to think this through.

John looks at her with renewed interest.

John makes the decision.

He starts walking. Angela is now compelled to follow.

Not exactly an inviting place.

Hennessey steps off the curb, looks up at his destination.

John stares at a photo of Angela and her father in police uniform. Obviously happier times.

Angela walks out of her bedroom holding a cardboard box. That gray cat follows close to her heels.

John ignores the box of items, picks up the cat. He studies it a bit, then sits back in a chair with it.

John puts his feet, shoes and all into a BUCKET OF WATER.

Angela wants to stay.

Angela reluctantly moves toward the exit. John holds the cat, stares into its huge, unblinking eyes. There's a moment where animal and man seem to connect.

The water around John's feet begins to BOIL.

ANGELA pushes the door closed behind her but it slows on its way to latch.

Bulbs pulsate as current ramps down. The room flickers, is suddenly caught in a ghostly dim half-light and John has now crossed over into --

APARTMENT IN HELL

Same layout, different decorator. John takes a deep, raspy breath, slowly stands. He turns to the wall behind him which is torn away, looking like some half-bombed structure in Beirut.

Beyond the wall is no longer the blackness of a nightscape but a sickly sepia glow. Not quite day, not quite night.

John steps over the crumbling wall into --

John walks out onto the top overpass of a crumbling maze of intersecting freeways. Burnt-out husks of long- forgotten vehicles sit in rows of gridlock. A low DRONE penetrates the silence.

On the horizon is a dying RED SUN. It strains to cut through the putrid brown haze.

His VOICE REVERBERATES to infinity.

John cautiously steps closer to the railing, looks down to the ribbons of twisting streets below. They're crammed with teeming masses of the damned. All walking down in silence, faces numb with sorrow and grief.

That low DRONE RISES IN PITCH and John now spots a huge blanket-like BLACKNESS crawling over the cityscape, rapidly closing in on him. You get the feeling this isn't a safe place for the living.

John suddenly locks on something far off.

On top of a distant skyscraper is a FEMALE FIGURE in a sheer white gown. John can't make out her face but knows she's looking right at him.

She lifts something and tosses it. John watches as a small object tumbles toward him just ahead of closing darkness.

In that same motion we left her in -- Angela finishes pushing the door closed. As it LATCHES --

Confused, Angela pushes the door back open. Cat BOLTS out. Angela catches her breath, moves inside.

John sits slumped in the chair, drained. Steam rises off his skin. Angela sees the water in the bucket has almost all boiled out. She walks in, kneels down to him.

Sweat drips off as he looks up. He opens his palm -- reveals to Angela a simple HOSPITAL BAND. The name "ISABEL DODSON" is typed on it.

Even as a semi-convert, this news completely floors Angela. She takes the plastic band -- grips it tight -- tries to hold herself together. The adrenaline and pain overwhelm. Her knee buckle and she drops to the floor.

John watches, isn't sure how to help. He finally reaches out a single hand -- slowly rests it on her shoulder.

The contact seems to open a floodgate of emotion and Angela falls right into his arms. John hasn't been this close to anyone in a long time. Angela finally composes herself.

John tries not to stare into those eyes too long. Fails.

Body drawer slides open -- reveals Isabel. Lying in a cold, sterile room of death. A Hell of a different type.

Hennessey stares down at her, looks around the room again, makes sure he's still alone.

He reaches in, rips open the protective plastic and lowers his hand inside. Places it first on her forehead. Nothing. Then on her chest. Nothing. Wrist is last. Hennessey shudders. This is it.

He closes his eyes and opens himself to the void --

FLASHBACK - EXT. STREET - DAY

A TEN-YEAR-OLD John comes out of a corner store with milk in a bag. He slows, eyes a MAN at a mailbox.

The man looks right at young John as he passes. His face is distorted and his feet have sprouted roots which are dug into the ground.

Young John looks up toward the voice --

John looks up at the Waitress.

She leaves. Angela sits across from him. They're at the table by the window.

Angela notes him rubbing his wrist.

A DOCTOR rushes past their table. PAN WITH him INTO...

FLASHBACK - INT. MENTAL INSTITUTION - HALLWAY

The Doctor rushes toward distant SCREAMING.

The Doctor runs in. Sees the revered Father below, leaning over a bed where an 18-year-old John is held down by three interns and that Doctor. John angrily screams at them all.

Young John clamps his eyes shut tight.

Present-day John does the same, remembering the pain.

John sees she's looking at his wrist. The hint of a jagged scar can now be seen under the sleeve.

John's reflection in the window becomes --

FLASHBACK - TEENAGE JOHN

kneeling with a pair off scissors. He's inside a...

Teenage John looks up at a room filled with people from all walks of life. Teachers, doctors, lawyers, garbage men. All somewhat different than normal. They sit in school chairs and wait for John to do the deed.

He puts the blade to his wrist -- one swipe and the world around him accelerates away in a STREAKED BLUR --

His chest suddenly HEAVES forward -- and we're on...

FLASHBACK - TEENAGE JOHN

as he's jolted by DEFIB PADS. He's in the back of a...

Paramedics are soaked in sweat. One looks a bit like a young Dr. Archer. Heart monitor is FLAT LINE. There's little hope.

The ambulance moves through a city that is transforming. From this world's Los Angeles to a barren Hell version.

Ambulance heads toward that dying RED SUN.

FLAT LINE on the monitor suddenly SPIKES with a pulse --

Hennessey's hand jerks back from the plastic. His eyes fix on Isabel's wrist. That odd circular SYMBOL is back. Hennessey's unsettled, quickly shoves the drawer closed.

He rushes out, slams right into a SECURITY GUARD coming in.

Guard looks back into the body room, sees a drawer partially open. He walks over, pulls it out further -- sees the plastic cut away. Jesus.

The symbol has already faded from Isabel's wrist.

runs as fast as a very obese man can -- aiming for that PHONE BOOTH on the corner. He grabs the receiver, punches numbers as fast as he can. RING -- RING -- RING --

Something shivers up Hennessey's leg and into his body. Eyes glaze over and Hennessey settles on a RESTAURANT.

HENNESSEY barges in, squeezes past the MAITRE D'.

But Hennessey is on a quest. For food. And it's everywhere.

He starts grabbing meals right off of plates. Fish, pasta, prime rib. Shovels it all in. Patrons are yelling -- screaming. He's eating as if his life depended on it. And even though he's devouring anything in sight, this huge man is wasting away before our eyes.

In the middle of all this chaos is one customer calmly eating his meal. Balthazar.

Hennessey hijacks a food cart -- consumes everything on it yet his skin is getting looser and the body inside gets thinner.

He grabs a steak from a woman's plate but she jerks it back so he bites into his arm. She screams as her husband pulls her away.

Hennessey's strength is withering away. Desperate, he grabs a FORK, digs it into his own hand.

A Hispanic BUSBOY rushes into the room, grabs onto Hennessey.

Balthazar stands, throws a few bills on the table and starts toward the back EXIT.

That Busboy lowers Hennessey to the floor. For a moment we see him framed against the front doorway. And in that instant we get a brief glimpse of --

ALTERNATE LOS ANGELES

An incredible pristine lake reflecting a city of light.

BACK TO SCENE

BUSBOY looks up, meets Balthazar's eyes. Bitter enemies. Balthazar grins, flips that coin between his fingers. He leaves out the back exit.

Not a serene image at all. Angela studies him.

John's bitterness is obvious. Angela just stares at him -- finally --

John looks up. Moment is lost when her CELLULAR RINGS. The cop in her reacts, flips it open.

The morgue is seen across the street. The Guard that chased Hennessey is just outside.

We MOVE PAST Angela standing with Weiss. Around them is a complete shambles of fine dining --

-- COME TO REST ON John's shattered face. He stares down at Hennessey. Now yards of loose flesh sunken over an assemblage of bones. Only that ragged black tie he wore is familiar now.

John leans down to the remains of his friend. A cop starts to intervene but Angela blocks him. Let him be.

John has trouble taking this in, reluctantly reaches into Hennessey's coat pocket -- finds the protective amulet he himself removed from his friend. That's even more crushing.

John lowers his head, then spots blood stains on one of Hennessey's hands. He opens the fingers, studies the fork wound. The blood is already drying over it.

John reaches over to the mess of dishes on the floor and grabs a melting ice cube.

He pushes it into Hennessey's hand, wiping away the dried blood. It quickly becomes apparent -- this isn't random stabbings. This is a shape.

John takes a napkin, lays it on the palm and presses. Residual blood creates a symbol onto the napkin.

It's the same circular symbol we saw on Isabel's wrist. John doesn't know what it is, but he knows it's important.

With a loud crowd and 20 huge PIN MACHINES GRINDING AWAY the noise back here is DEAFENING. But this is Beeman's home. See the desk, the TV. The fold-away bed.

Beeman is on the phone. There's a conversation but it's way too noisy to hear. All we see are the emotions on Beeman's face. No doubt news of Hennessey's death is one of the biggies.

Beeman quickly reaches for a marker, puts it to paper and starts drawing -- listening and drawing --

He's finished, hangs up. Stares at the Symbol. That cabinet with the ancient books now gets his attention.

Graffiti-adorned walls give way to a tall iron fence, heavily-shadowed grounds and finally the six-story hospital complex of RAVENSCAR.

A rim-lit figure stands on the roof. But this one isn't wearing a hospital gown, he's wearing a trench coat.

Angela stands behind John. A large water tank is anchored to the roof next to her. Note the FLAME logo.

Angela doesn't need to be reminded. It hurts even more now.

John and Angela head toward Isabel's room. A NURSE appears from around the corner walking with a boy. It's Barry, the boy in the courtyard.

He locks on Angela and when she makes eye contact he breaks away from the Nurse, runs toward her with arms outstretched.

He runs right into Angela's arms, hugs her tight. Angela is totally baffled. John is thoroughly intrigued.

She rushes in, gently tugs the boy away.

Barry stares at Angela. He reaches out, touches her face, confused. Nurse pulls him back even further.

Angela nods, understanding. The Nurse leads Barry away. He doesn't take his eyes off Angela the entire time.

Neither does John.

Angela nods, steps inside. John pauses, thinking.

John steps inside, gives the sterile room a thorough scan.

He pulls out a drawer, looks at the bottom.

John runs his hands under the steel bed frame.

Angela doesn't like that look he's giving her.

Angela seems unbalanced. John gets more aggressive.

Angela backs away. John advances.

Angela backs into a wall. Nowhere else to go now.

Angela lashes out, shoves John hard, pushing him out of her way. She turns to the window, almost hyperventilating.

John stays back, watches. Angela opens her eyes. The tension seems to flow right out of her when she sees --

A lone tree stands in the center of the lit courtyard.

John and Angela approach it. Examine it. Nothing. John drops lower on the tree, to a child's height. Finally sees something near the ground, gestures to Angela.

She kneels down next to him, sees what he sees.

That same SYMBOL. The one Hennessey carved into his hand. But this time there's more.

John may not be buying it but he's not saying anything. His fingers trace these words carved below the symbol --

John's face goes pale --

Several families sit in solemn prayer. The pastor comforts a man and wife. John and Angela slip through, head for the shelves of reference books on the back wall. They whisper.

John stops, casually sticks his hand in the pastor's bowl of holy water near the altar.

John closes his eyes and the water in the bowl begins to BOIL --

Flickering candlelight slows to a stop, catching Angela mid-question and the room in that dim half-light.

John turns and is inside --

SAME CHAPEL - HELL

The epitome of blasphemy -- A church in Hell. Only they don't worship God in here. And that's not Christ on the cross. And those stained glass windows are now slate black.

John is now facing books with completely different markings. He searches as a DRONE rises in pitch and an INKY BLACKNESS begins to flow down the walls, getting closer to John with each heartbeat.

He finds the book, steps back as he closes his eyes --

REGULAR CHAPEL

John turns, covered in sweat. He's holding a book she's never seen, is already flipping through it.

John stands, his brain going into overdrive.

Beeman sits under the glow of a desk lamp. The narrow alley of machines stretches out behind him. He stares into the scrolls -- an ancient book with a single page folded a thousand times. Turns another page.

BOWLING AREA

Amazing how disturbing a bowling alley is when it's closed. Rows of empty lanes stretching into darkness, the unlit pin areas looking like the jaws of an army of beasts.

BEHIND THE LANES

Beeman has stopped turning pages. That's because he's now staring at an etching of the same symbol. Below are ink drawings of a ghastly beast rising up through a body.

But it's what's above the beast that is most troubling.

A figure on a cross -- his arms outstretched -- seemingly welcoming the beast into this world.

BOWLING BALL hits a lane. Beeman spins to the sound.

BALL ROLLS round and round, closer and closer until it CLANGS dead against the back wall of one of the lanes.

Beeman gets up, starts down the corridor of dormant pin machines.

He stops at lane 13, leans way way down, past the machinery and peeks out the pin hole.

Angela's SUV races quickly through traffic while John gets her up to speed.

Angela sits back, letting that sink in.

John sits back, gut churning. Angela's in detective mode.

John nods. Your point?

One of those rare moments where John has no answer.

Something small and SHINY is rolling down the alley. It lands in the trough, spins round and round --

Beeman leans out to try and see what it is. The silver object keeps spinning.

He waits for it to stop, swats a fly near his face. Then another.

Book on his desk ignites in flame.

SUV pulls into the empty parking lot. John is out before Angela gets it in park, unlocks the side door. A few flies escape to freedom as he opens the door. John rushes in.

Only a LOW HUM pervades the dead stillness of the alley.

John grabs the door that leads behind the pin area. It's locked from the other side.

The LOW HUM fluctuates -- sounds like a BUZZING.

Several more flies flit by him. This time John notices, turns and spots the source of the HUM -- a cloud of FLIES near the center aisles. Angela follows his gaze, spots them as well.

John heads across the lanes. Swarm gets thicker and thicker. Angela keeps up with him, covers her mouth.

They approach the pin area of the center lane. The source of the swarm is slowly revealed. In the catch trough is a solid mound of flies.

John leans closer, spots a HAND protruding from the mound.

He rips his coat off, flings it at the mound and million flies scatter -- revealing the body of Beeman. Ravaged. Flies pouring out of his mouth, his ears --

John goes ballistic, screams to the walls --

He angrily rips his sleeves up -- revealing two distinct TATTOOS on his forearms. Slams them together with all his might -- clenching his eyes tight -- concentrating --

Veins in his arms and neck bulge, look ready to explode --

Angela steps back in awe as the air around his outstretched arms begins to WARP -- to tear a faint hole from the bowling alley right into another world right here -- darker -- Hellish --

John is choked by a cough -- can't finish -- arms separate and he buckles to his knees, reveals to Angela just how ill he really is.

She leans down to him, sees hints of blood on the floor.

Angela glares at him -- understands now. He's dying.

John stands, almost stumbles. Angela tries to help.

He uses the handrail to walk away. Angela stands there, confused by her own emotions. She turns back to the carnage, hears the distant SIRENS.

John sits in his opened window, simmering. He holds a lit cigarette but doesn't dare put it to his lips. Outside the city goes about its unending churn.

Down on the street are several police vehicles. ENGINES START and they drive away. Swirl of blue and red lights flash across John's moist eyes.

John finds Angela across the room in his doorway.

John meets her eyes. Sees the questions piling up.

John just shakes his head.

John gets off the window, starts walking away.

That stops him cold.

The two stand there -- locked in this moment.

John can't believe this day -- looks her dead in the eye.

Angela never blinks as she nods in agreement.

Pushing slowly through a lifeless apartment -- drawing closer to the opened bathroom door. WATER is pouring.

John fills a 70-year-old porcelain BATHTUB. Angela stands in the center.

John turns off the faucet.

Angela grabs his shoulder for balance, lowers herself. When she's sitting, the water is all the way to her neck.

His eyes say it all. Enough.

John cups the back of her neck, holds her face just above the water as she lowers down. Her breathing is picking up. John leans over the tub, looks straight down at her.

Angela takes a deep breath, holds it. John pulls his hand away and she settles to the bottom, her eyes riveted on his the entire time.

ANGELA'S POV

A silent John ripples above. His hand grips her arm, skin to skin.

BACK TO SCENE

Angela lies there and panic sets in. She starts to surface but John pushes her head back to the bottom, holds it firm. Her eyes dart about. Air is running out. She can't hold her breath much longer. It's not working --

But the room's lighting begins to pulsate -- as if the current were ramping down. It slows to that dim half- light as --

JOHN'S EYES -- CLOSE. A single blink.

ANGELA is lying in now BOILING WATER, screaming for all of her life. Water muffles the sound but not the fury.

Huge TUB SHUDDERS hard -- snapping out of the hold down bolts. John is stunned -- how powerful is this woman?

Another SCREAM and the inch-thick TUB CRACKS. Water starts streaming onto the tile.

John lunges, grabs Angela and PULLS her up from the water -- her muffled SCREAMS SHATTERING the air as her mouth breaks the surface. She SLAMS hard against his chest -- arms wrapping tight -- fingers digging into his back -- leaving marks that might just scar.

TUB GIVES WAY and the damn breaks. John and Angela go down -- hit the tile as one -- water washing over them both.

ANGELA lies there on top of John. Trembling. She looks up him, eyes filled with revelation.

John nods, helping her understand.

Tears stream down her cheeks. John reaches out to touch her when her eyes CLAMP TIGHT in pain --

Eyes snap open and she's off him in a second, runs out. John pries himself from the tile, goes after her.

Angela runs behind the vertebrae of machines, dripping water the entire way. John tries to keep up.

She stops, kneels to the floor. John walks up to join her.

Something glints in the catch trough. She reaches down, plucks it up and brings an odd COIN INTO VIEW --

John's face contorts with rage as he takes the familiar coin.

Beeman's bowling bag is flipped and the contents are dumped onto a table. Powder, bugs and bullets go everywhere. John retrieves the odd-tipped bullets. Those brass knuckles and that copper pipe are taken also.

CHRISTIAN RELICS

are removed from a display cabinet.

There's the pure platinum Flask of Divinity, the petrified husk from the River of Life -- the hollow shaft of an iron cross -- all striking pieces individually but when twisted and locked together form a very imposing --

-- HOLY SHOTGUN.

He swings the cross down, pours a pound of blasting powder into the husk -- chambers a special bullet into one of the ten barrels, snaps it shut -- turns and FIRES.

BULLET leaves a trail of flame as it streaks across his endless apartment, blasts the center out of --

A carton of Lucky Strikes.

SETTLE ON the Surgeon General's warning -- burning away.

John is stuffing the bowling bag while Angela watches, now dressed in dry clothes. That shirt is John's.

John lifts that holy shotgun -- KA CHICK --

John turns to her -- locks on those eyes. He reaches into his coat pocket as he walks up to her. She shudders as his arms wrap around her face and for a beat they're cheek to cheek. When he pulls back she sees he has clipped Hennessey's AMULET around her neck.

FAT-ASS TIRES BURN under the full torque of a 426 HEMI. A jet-black '70s BARRACUDA BLASTS from the basement garage of 20 Lanes -- slides onto the streets of L.A.

Angela hangs on as John grabs the SKULL shifter knob -- slams into 2nd -- leaves another layer of tread behind.

FLYING OVER the ocean, a 747 ROARS RIGHT OVER US. Dipping out of cloud cover, it reveals the coast of a sprawling metropolis stretched out miles below.

L.A. LANDMARKS - DAWN

streak PAST. The Big Donut, the occult bookstores, the '57 Chevy sign, that Mission in the park.

This is actually the POV FROM John's Barracuda.

He downshifts -- DRIFTS PAST a building with a facade of pre-stressed concrete and huge gold letters -- "BZR FINANCE AND BROKERAGE."

Elevator opens and John steps out into a lobby of concrete and glass. Pretentious design screams money. Lots of it.

Since trading is still a half hour away, the place is practically empty.

Across the room a stainless steal DOOR HISSES open. John looks the other way as a Security Guard exits. Thick DOOR glides closed, seals with another HISS. No way in.

John notices the janitor down one hallway. It's Nico from Midnite's. He and John lock stares. Nico opens a "Security Only" door, steps inside -- leaves the door open.

Monitors are powering up around the room. A few of those Young Businessmen we last saw at Midnite's are here.

Balthazar walks through, looking every bit like the smug and successful businessman he is. He stops at a LONG MIRROR on one wall. Adjusts his collar, his hair. His "look."

As Balthazar admires himself, his reflection distorts slightly. The demon in him? He touches his face, does a vowel stretch. His face distorts even further.

That's got him moving closer to the mirror.

Balthazar's concerned because now his skin appears in motion, rippling as if liquefied. And just when he sees the surface of the mirror BLISTERING and starts to move --

BOOOM --

One way GLASS EXPLODES outward on the front edge of a FIREBALL -- sending Balthazar flying with glass and flame.

John stands on the other side in an ACCESS CHANNEL -- that Dragon's breath flamethrower now duct-taped to his holy shotgun.

John steps into the trading room, eyes Balthazar rising from the floor. Suit's in shreds, half his face is burned off, but now he's pissed.

John hits him with another BLAST of FLAME -- pins him hard against the wall.

Balthazar's young turks attack. One leaps over the trading station. John swings around -- aims the SHOTGUN -- BOOM -- half-breed is blasted midair.

The other turk seems to defy gravity as he scampers across the ceiling. John aims up -- PUMPS SEVERAL ROUNDS -- steps out of the way as a body falls, smashes into a desk. BOOM -- BOOM -- that'll keep it down.

Angela hears the GUNSHOTS. Cop instinct takes over and she gets out of the car. Checks the amulet. Intact.

John turns his attention back to Balthazar, doesn't hesitate and hits him with a continuous tide of flame.

Suit and skin is peeling off, revealing something else underneath. The true form.

John swings the flame aside so he can KICK Balthazar against the wall. But now his WEAPON SPUTTERS. Shit. Charcoal hand thrusts out, bats away the shotgun and grabs John by the throat.

Balthazar rises from the ashes. He may be burned, but he's one tough son of a bitch.

Balthazar slides John up a wall by his neck. John can't break his hold. He's choking, frantically rummages through his coat pockets. Comes out with those sacred GOLD KNUCKLES on his right hand.

Balthazar tightens his grip and John swings, clocks him across the face. The enhanced punch sends a dizzying ripple throughout Balthazar's body.

But he doesn't let go. John is choking, starts whaling on him. Again and again -- each punch weakening this demon more.

John finally gets him against the wall. Right arm's tired so he slips the gold knuckles onto his left hand, and with extreme pleasure -- continues punching away. Drives Balthazar to the floor, right to the brink of death.

He leans up, winded. Watches in delight as Balthazar strains to take his final breaths.

John removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat. Balthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches it and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --

A Bible.

Balthazar reacts. This isn't good.

Balthazar doesn't have to answer.

Balthazar's worst nightmare.

Balthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.

Balthazar isn't convinced.

John stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --

He places a hand on Balthazar's forehead. Balthazar glares at it as John's voice rises with commanding authority.

Balthazar looks scared as shit to tell him.

John is stunned -- did he hear right? Balthazar nods.

John's mind races and he finally puts it together.

Balthazar's expression confirms it.

CLOSE ON THE PRISONER'S RELIC

It's tucked between the folds of an AIRLINES blanket.

Hand COMES IN, grips the relic. WIDEN to see...

Prisoner in an aisle seat, trying to keep calm. He looks behind him as if being watched. Just nerves again.

ANGELA moves through the gathered crowd looking up at the building. As she makes her way through, the amulet brushes against bodies -- swinging from side to side.

Angela suddenly stops in the center of the street, turns...

She stares at her surroundings with an increasing sense of dread. Then hears the RUMBLE and TIRES SCREECHING.

Angela spins, spots John's BARRACUDA exploding around the corner. It barrels up the street and slides to a SQUEALING stop in front of her. Passenger door swings open.

SIRENS crack the air. Angela jumps in and John PEELS OUT.

Balthazar is taking his last breaths when the sound of WIND filters through the room. He looks up as a shadow drapes across him. Eyes widen.

Shadow darkens and his decimated form shudders.

John takes a turn at 70 as Angela stares into John's Bible.

He points in the Bible at a detailed painting of the event -- Jesus hanging on the cross -- being pierced by a soldier's spear. It matches that child's drawing John removed from the fridge -- now lying on his seat.

She doesn't.

Angela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid flowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --

Angela sits stunned for a moment.

Angela gives him a look. Something in the rearview mirror catches his gaze.

John floors it and Angela glances out the back window, spots something in the traffic -- bounding over vehicles, hitting the pavement on all fours --

A blur of muscle and bone leaps over cars at incredible speed -- denting in roofs, CRACKING a WINDSHIELD -- causing general chaos. Cars brake -- SLIDE into each other. And still this thing keeps coming.

BARRACUDA slides into an alley, races toward the other end.

Angela looks back, sees their pursuer enter the alley. It makes huge strides along the walls, defying all manner of physics.

The beast goes right up the wall and disappears above the building.

BAM, something lands hard on the roof, denting it a good foot.

A huge clawed TALON punches into the sheet metal, starts shredding it right over Angela. Talon thrusts in. Angela dodges it -- her amulet swinging wildly.

John HITS the BRAKES and the beast flips off the roof and onto the hood -- right INTO VIEW.

A muscular anomaly with eyes that are unmistakably Balthazar's. He lashes against the windshield with an extra appendage. Thank God for safety glass.

He jerks back his embedded talon, pulls the entire windshield out with it, smashing it on the hood. GLASS PARTICLES EXPLODE into the car.

John throws the car into a spin, slamming the Barracuda into several parked cars. Balthazar is uprooted, is thrown from the car.

Angela looks back, sees Balthazar rolling into traffic.

Angela pulls out her cellular.

A BRITISH COUPLE sit in the back of Chaz's taxi, staring out at the seedy side of town as if it were "Wild Kingdom."

British woman takes documentary photos.

Chaz's CELLULAR RINGS over the BUZZ of a dispatch SCANNER.

INTERCUT JOHN.

He checks the speedometer -- 90 mph.

Chaz downshifts, stops in cloud of dust --

The British start to argue.

John heads toward the skyline now -- at 90 mph -- to the 3rd Street Bridge on the horizon.

Angela scans behind them, can't believe her eyes.

Here comes Balthazar through traffic on all fours --

John PUNCHES the GAS to the floor.

Chaz swerves onto the other side of the narrow bridge. He SCREECHES TO A STOP across the roadway -- opens the glove box, grabs a velvet-wrapped object and pulls a glass vial out of it.

Inside flows a phosphorescent green liquid. Chaz jumps out, runs to the back of the car, pauses when he hears the sound of a STRAINING ENGINE.

Here comes the topless Barracuda over the bridge's arched roadway. And what the hell is that running behind it?

Chaz twists off the gas cap, drops the vial into the tank.

He pulls out his BEEPER, rips the cover off, exposing the electronics.

He wedges the beeper into the tank inlet, then starts sprinting off the bridge while --

John gives Angela the number.

Taxi in view. Angela punches in the number --

They RIP past the taxi --

Here comes Balthazar up the bridge. Like a supercharged cheetah, running full stride. And not even winded.

Balthazar is almost to the taxi -- John waits -- then --

JOHN

Angela punches the last digit as --

-- Balthazar LEAPS to jump the taxi --

BEEPER CONTACTS BUZZ -- spark -- GAS IGNITES --

TAXI

EXPLODES right under Balthazar in a tremendous FIREBALL. Initial impact only kicks him higher. It's when the Sedrallus in the tank truly ignites that the real FIREWORKS begin.

Balthazar is caught in a haze of brilliant red particles that tear his body apart in midair. His final SHRIEK is chilling.

John smacks the wheel, victoriously -- looks over to Angela who sighs with relief. His expression changes as he centers on the empty necklace dangling around her neck.

WHAM -- something reaches through the roof hole and JERKS HER right out of the car.

John SLAMS the BRAKES home -- car spins and John is already jumping out before it comes to a stop. He runs to the rail.

Both leap onto the concrete rail, lean over and spot a HUGE WINGED SHADOW just as it disappears below the bridge.

Chaz is speechless as he turns to John. This is too much. John gives him the out he's been waiting for --

Chaz nods and John leaves him at the rail. He jumps back in the BARRACUDA and PEELS OUT.

Chaz watches him race away, looks back at his burning taxi.

Prisoner walks out of the terminal, here at last. He stares at all the vehicles at his disposal. A family crowds around the back of a minivan. Wife hugs the dad.

MYSTERIOUS POV

Watches him from behind. Prisoner turns, looks back, suspiciously. Nothing.

PRISONER

walks out to the street, slides into the minivan, tears away. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.

John bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.

John swings open a STORAGE ROOM DOOR -- looks in at large-scale relics -- statues, props, etc.

Midnite just stares at him.

Midnite just stands there -- his body inflating past it's seven feet. John knows he went too far.

John nods.

Fluorescents flicker, REVEAL boxes of toilet tissue, cooking supplies, etc. And sitting in one corner by the huge power transformer is --

-- the chair. Heavy wooden monstrosity with straps and cuffs and the wear of many who sat in it for the last time. Yeah, it's an electric chair right out of Sing Sing.

John clears off the seat, starts to sit. Midnite blocks him.

He tries again. Midnite blocks him again.

John tries again. Again Midnite stops him.

John shoves past him, plops his ass in the huge chair. His feet dangle off the ground. Midnite stands by, won't help. So John starts strapping himself in the chair. His chest, his ankles. One wrist. He obviously can't strap the other. He looks to the big man.

Midnite sighs -- finally straps the other wrist in -- pulls it TIGHT. Ouch.

moving in a surreal fashion across an evening sky. Below her the City of Angels sweep past. Her eyes drift open and widen in horror as she sees beyond reality --

REFLECTION IN HER EYES

The city is ON FIRE. It's a repeat of Isabel's prophetic vision before she jumped.

Midnite kneels in front of John who is now handcuffed to the chair, cables draped from every limb.

John nods. Midnite lifts a palm of INSECT WINGS in front of his face.

Midnite cranks the JUICE on the panel as he BLOWS and John reacts as if being hit by a blast of wind. His head slams back against the slats. His skin ripples from the force.

STAY ON his face as the sound of POWER courses through John.

A FLASH turns into a streak behind John's face -- stretching to infinity.

The flash whips back TOWARD us and John is suddenly somewhere else. He looks O.S.

FROM that MYSTERIOUS POV, we watch the Prisoner hold the Spear for the first time. Like before, he turns and looks behind him where --

John now stands. Watching. John centers on the Spear in the Prisoner's hand.

FLASH AHEAD - INT. ISTANBUL AIRPORT

That same MYSTERIOUS POV of the Prisoner in line. He turns as he did before and it's --

-- John behind him. Watching. Prisoner turns away.

FLASH AHEAD - EXT. LAX TERMINAL - EVENING

MYSTERIOUS POV is ON the Prisoner at the exit doors. He looks back, suspiciously, and there's -

John. Watching. Prisoner turns, heads to the minivan.

FLASH AHEAD - EXT. EAST L.A. - MYSTERIOUS POV - NIGHT

of a minivan still smoking from a recent impact against a large iron ENTRANCE GATE. Prisoner is running from it, glances back --

John is there. Watches as the Prisoner enters the abandoned wing of -- Ravenscar. John reacts. How did he miss this?

FLASH AHEAD - INT. SLEEP ROOM

Fifty beds with fifty patients. Asleep. The Prisoner kneels next to one of the beds. John walks over, touches him and he rocks to the floor. Dead. Body reveals the Spear on the blanket of the bed.

John reaches out to touch it when the boy BARRY suddenly SITS UP from under the blanket and grabs him by the throat. NOTE the boy's BLACKENED FINGERNAILS.

John struggles to pull him off but the boy's grip is locked tight. John grabs at his hands -- chokes out the name --

John's hands suddenly become MIDNITE'S as his ally pulls him back into --

John's face is held tight in the life-saving fingers of Midnite's grip. John gasps as he comes back -- nods to Midnite and finally --

WINGED SHADOW glides across the landscape, sweeps across manicured grounds and rises to reveal Ravenscar Hospital.

Midnite piles ASSAULT RIFLES, SHOTGUNS, GLOCKS onto a table.

John adjusts the flames of a butane heater under a pan.

In the pan is that RELIGIOUS RELIC he brought from India. It's now MELTING. Midnite has trouble watching it dissolve.

John coughs, pours the melted gold into several small casting blocks.

John gives the big guy a glance, dips one of the castings into a pot of water -- HISSSSSS.

John stops the work, centers on him and Midnite just knows what he's thinking. Midnite sighs, heavily.

John almost smiles.

John taps the casting and out falls a GOLD-TIPPED BULLET.

John centers on the Sparkletts bottles positioned around the room. Just like John's. Hmmmm...

Midnite raises an eyebrow.

The motorized MAIN GATE is jammed -- opening and closing on a crashed VAN. The van the Prisoner carjacked. The abandoned hospital wing stands ominous against a moonlit night. Vague figures move about near the emergency entrance.

John's BARRACUDA IDLES up with its headlights off. John stares out, points up to the WATER TANK -- on the roof.

Therapy machines look like medieval torture devices in the dimly-lit room. BARRY stands waist deep in a large hydrotherapy tank inset into the tile floor. His skin is pale, sickly looking. Obviously containing Mammon takes its toll. Especially on a child.

His hands are below his waist and now we see they're lowering a still-unconscious Angela into the water. Her face floats just above the surface as he buckles restraining straps around her wrists.

Front glass doors swing open and John and Midnite calmly strut inside. Stop.

HEAR the O.S. MURMURS of an unseen crowd.

This EMERGENCY ROOM is crammed with people. Lawyers. Brokers. Soccer moms. Truck drivers. Etc... Most are crowded in front of a set of double doors.

Room goes dead silent as all eyes lock on our guys.

John steps from Midnite, raises his hands like a riot cop.

That's got their attention. As entertainment. A few chuckle. John is surprised to see Ellie stepping from the crowd. Still that bundle of sexual energy.

Ellie steps closer. The crowd starts to close in with her.

John pulls out his lighter, holds it up -- flicks it on.

Can he look more ridiculous?

John steps back up onto a chair, thrusts the lighter higher --

-- right under a SPRINKLER HEAD.

Ellie looks up just as the sprinklers trigger.

SERIES OF SHOTS

Ellie and a room of half-humans -- all looking up as water sprays from every nozzle. John and Midnite tense because the first drops have no effect. A beat -- a SPURT in the waterlines and suddenly -- SHRIEKS fill the room as half human skin begins to FRY.

Emergency lighting has snapped on -- throwing the room into a strobing nightmare of action. Flashes of human skin melting, revealing snippets of the true demons underneath. It's total pandemonium as their rage is directed toward the only real humans in the room.

John and Midnite fling their coats open -- draw their WEAPONS and starts FIRING away at the attacking horde.

Sacred bullets cause major damage -- wounds that ripple out through demon bodies.

John and Midnite slam back to back -- spinning under the protective shield of a showering sprinkler head -- shooting at all manner of distorted forms that venture into the COLUMN OF SPRAY.

One reloads while the other FIRES. It's a hellish form of a turkey shoot. Nothing sacred, nothing spared.

John goes for the double doors. Midnite covers him -- blows away another two disintegrating demons. Two come up behind and he spins, takes them down.

JOHN gets to the doors, starts to open them when Ellie jumps onto his back -- nails digging in.

John FIRES over his back, loosens her grip. He grabs hold, shoves her face up into the spray of an overhead sprinkler head. Legs flail about.

Midnite comes out of the rain -- grabs John.

John drops Ellie to the floor. No more pretty face -- no face at all -- yet the screams still come.

John and Midnite get to the doors -- shove through.

Angela's body and face are completely submerged now. She comes to, sees Barry above her -- tries to rise but the boy pushes her head to the bottom, holds it there. Last bubbles are floating up from her mouth. Barry places his other hand on her arm, closes his eyes.

Holy rain has stopped in here. A fine mist floats in the air. John and Midnite make their way through. Only their footsteps on the tile break the stark silence.

Another set of doors is ahead. Before they reach it a faint shadow crosses in the mist. Both pause, expecting something to reveal itself. But it doesn't.

Faint waves undulate Barry's skin -- ripple from his chest, down his arms and into a submerged Angela. Every muscle in her body tenses in stark relief.

ANGELA'S POV

Barry's image ripples above her in silence. Room lighting starts to pulse -- slower and slower and when it's caught in that dim half-light -- Angela JOLTS and this time we CROSS OVER INTO --

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM HELL

Angela is lying in a bone-dry tank, lifts her head up to see a room not much different than the one she just left. Except for the SOUND. That low DRONE RISING IN PITCH -- those DEMONIC SCREECHES scratching at the walls.

And now those INKY splotches begin consuming the color and light from the walls. Moving in on Angela. Closer and closer -- whatever's coming is just about on her.

Angela SPINS and for a split second comes face to face with the hideous form of MAMMON. She SCREAMS.

John and Midnite burst into the room, spot Barry standing in the tank. His hands in the water. On Angela.

Barry looks up, sees the two men rushing toward him. Guns aimed.

A beat as John meets Barry's eyes -- realizes he's staring at a frightened child. Barry backs away as --

-- Angela sits up behind John. Water rippling off, straps dangling free.

John turns -- locks on her BLACK EYES.

John thinks fast -- scans the area and sees every mirror in the room has been shattered. So much for the quick fix.

He jumps into the water with her, grabs her face and pushes her against the tank walls. This is an exorcism on the fly.

Angela's eyes snap open -- dark and dilated. John sees it -- clasps a hand over her mouth -- cutting off her air supply.

Her body undulates as Mammon's shape tries to come through. Pulsating through her arms, her chest -- her face.

Angela BITES into his palm. John recoils. She shoves him off and John hits the tile hard. Angela jumps from the tank, pushes past in a blur. John spins to see Midnite standing right there -- Angela now firmly in his size-twelve grasp.

INTERCUT WITH:

MYSTERIOUS HIGH POV

John coughs, struggles to stand. He tries to cover but it's obvious his end is nearing. Midnite positions Angela to face him, braces her arms out from her sides -- crucifixion-style. She tries but can't break free. John puts a hand to her forehead --

JOHN/MIDNITE Rescind from the flesh I command thee -- Amar natash bow basar!

Angela's body stops fighting. The darkness in her eyes and fingernails begins to fade. It's working...

Midnite is suddenly JERKED backwards with an agonizing YELL. Angela is dropped, slips into unconsciousness.

John watches in horror as Midnite's 300-pound frame is lifted right off the floor by an INVISIBLE GRASP, slammed into the ceiling, then twisted and thrown with incredible force against the floor.

Midnite glares at John, tries to speak. But the words die on his lips.

Enraged, John scans the empty room, sees a large SHADOW on the ceiling that doesn't belong to any object.

He holds back a cough long enough to rip up his sleeves and slams those tattoos together --

It takes every ounce of John's life force to keep this spell alive and when he's about to drop from exhaustion the shadow is brought fully into the light -- becomes that familiar shape of WINGS.

John strains to see the shadow become the real thing -- the majestic wings of an angel.

John is too weak to even be surprised anymore.

Gabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.

Gabriel's wings fold behind as he walks around John.

Angela's fingernails are starting to darken once again.

John just stares at this rogue angel, centers on the Spear in his hand. He makes a break for it. Gabriel's wings beat once.

The GUST BLOWS John through the double doors, back into the --

CORRIDOR

-- where he smashes against a mesh-screened window, drops to the floor in a heap with the other dying carcasses.

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM

Gabriel turns back to Angela. He approaches her -- his rippling wings sliding up around her, enveloping her -- pulling her in. Those eyes of his could melt Dracula.

CORRIDOR - JOHN

can't even stand, let alone save the girl. Or humanity.

It would be so easy to give up. To roll over and die. But instead, he tries something he hasn't done in a long time.

John waits for nothing. His body crumples, his cheek landing flat against the tile.

Glistening shards of mirror glass lie around him. As he stares at his reflection in one, he gets the idea.

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - ANGELA'S EYES

begin to quiver. The color drains. Blackness is waiting.

CORRIDOR - JOHN

slides his back up the wall as he reels in that shard of mirror.

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - ANGELA'S

posture begins to change. Mammon's form ripples through her -- starts to push out through her skin. Gabriel stands behind her, his wings cocooned around her waist.

CORRIDOR - JOHN

pulls up his sleeve, exposes his old scar. He pauses a beat, closes his eyes. STAY ON his face as he makes one swift SLICE movement.

But he's in a rush here -- makes that same motion across his other wrist as well.

With both wrists purging his life away, John settles back into the corner and waits for the inevitable.

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - GABRIEL

reveals the Spear.

CORRIDOR - JOHN

is dying. Eyes are starting to close as...

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - GABRIEL

Raises the Spear over Angela's chest.

HEAR the SOUNDS of a million DEMONS inside of her ready to break free --

He holds the Spear high above her chest -- readies for the final thrust as --

CORRIDOR

Bulbs flicker as current ramps down and TIME COMES TO A COMPLETE STOP.

All we're left with is a distant METALLIC DRONE, like the reverberation of a gong struck a thousand years ago.

John lies in that dim half-light. Motionless.

Something starts to swirl near him and just like that, John is no longer alone. Shadow falls over his pathetic form.

John pries his eyes open...

Satan sees John's slit wrists.

John looks up at him.

Satan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies this dying man.

Satan is still suspicious.

Satan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is overtaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR

is about to be thrust into Angela's chest.

Gabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel reacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his might -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and Gabriel has now pierced dead air.

Satan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John did. She struggles and the demon inside appears -- reflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on the floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.

Mammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in FLAME --

CORRIDOR - JOHN

is rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building to its foundation. A moment later --

Satan is back. John looks up, gives him that look -- you owe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.

John shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...

John manages a nod...

ANGELA gasps -- her first real breath's a strain. Adrenaline rushes through her and she quickly closes her eyes --

Stretches out BEFORE us. And here come those two swings, penduluming up in SLOW MOTION.

Young Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But this time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.

Her body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for what seems so close... so close...

Isabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.

John relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes his hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds himself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try as he might, he can't budge John an inch.

And now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if weightless, begins to rise toward something above.

No sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the embrace of God.

Satan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --

John's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan, the middle finger fully extended. Final straw.

Satan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split second. His hands remain on fire.

Satan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's body --

John screams in agony. Satan tears through his tissue -- collecting the cancer, then ripping out a mass of diseased tissue with one vengeful pull. John's final blood-curdling SCREAM ECHOES over --

-- through every room. Every corridor. Rippling out across the ground and finally dissipating in the hills beyond.

On his hands and knees, John takes that first breath. New lungs fill for the first time. No cough. Not even a wheeze. Face has renewed color. Wrists have sealed tight.

John is healed.

He stands, steps back inside the --

PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM

John stops over the body of one seven-foot African warrior. He stands immobilized, wrecked with emotion. A SOUND draws his attention to the one thing that could cause him even greater rage --

GABRIEL --

is hunched over near a wall. Jagged cartilage stumps protrude from his back. A pattern of sinew and bone is burned into the floor behind him. It's all that remains of his once majestic wings.

John approaches, spots blood dripping from the former angel. He realizes what this means. Gets a kick out of it.

Gabriel looks up as John retrieves a gun from the wet floor.

John raises the gun -- puts it to Gabriel's forehead.

John's finger nudges the trigger.

John pauses, realizes what's happening here...

It takes everything John has not to pull that trigger. He lowers the gun, shaking his head.

John starts to turn away --

John's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the entire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.

The ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall -- SLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body crumples on impact, slides down to the muck. You know this hurt like absolute hell.

John turns toward the double doors -- stops cold.

Huddled in the doorway, covered in grime is Angela and Barry. The experience has obviously left them both drained.

John walks across the room, kneels down to them.

He nods, beat. Wipes a trace of blood off her brow, puts a hand on Barry's shoulder. HOLD a beat ON this gritty family tableau.

MOVING SLOWLY PAST the inoperative device. PAST strangely-shaped objects of platinum and gold, with names and symbols that make a bit more sense now.

Huge sun beats down on a lone FIGURE walking across a stretch of the most barren landscape on Earth. He stops, kneels to the heavily-cracked soil. Starts digging.

A HAND comes in, affixes an unseen object to a protruding rod. Its weight causes it to drop OUT OF FRAME but a moment later it rises back INTO VIEW and finds a balance.

JOHN pulls back the protective hood from his face. Healthy and tan with a new lease on life. He pops a NICORETTE TABLET, then unwraps rolls of cloth from around the Spear of Destiny. He drops it in the hole, stares at it a long beat.

The entire mechanism shudders. And now miraculously, every globe, every moon, every obscure object in this miniature occult universe begins to rotate in complete sync.

As it does, the defining object finally slides INTO VIEW.

John's lighter. ANGELA watches it rotate past, nods in approval.

John sighs, finally sweeps mounds of soil over the sacred relic. He stands, nods. Job done.

A breeze blows past and John senses being watched. He spins and finds -- nothing. For a hundred miles. He starts walking.

walking right in step. Something is closing in on her. A new TAXI pulls up. Chaz is driving. Angela gets in.

John continues walking as something closes in on him at incredible speed.

Our view RISES OVER him and gliding across the barren landscape are the SHADOW of WINGS.