Four: Kindred Spirits
INT. BOSTON MUSEUM OF FINE ART, DAY.
A small band of reporters have gathered in one of the museum's display halls. The art press have assembled to see the opening of a new celtic art display. The curator NILES FRAZIER and donator RICHARD KAVANAGH are giving speeches. Kavanagh, a gentle looking middle aged man with hair just beginning to grey at the sides, looks across the crowd of interested journalists.
We would like to thank the Árd Museum na H’Éireann for their unparalleled cooperation in making this exhibit – “The Celtic Twilight” possible. A display showcasing the stunning beauty and mysticism of this ancient race. Now without further a due I hand you over to our donator Mr Richard Kavanagh.
Applause from the reporters.
Thank you Mr Frazier. It's an honour to be able to display some of this stunning art and heritage to the American people. Hopefully the display will go someway in igniting the same passion and curiosity in you that’s in me regarding this fascinating subject. Now I am more then happy to answer any questions about the display.
Kavanagh notices an eager reporter with his hand raised.
Gordon Spotnitz, Boston Chronicle. Mr Kavanagh regarding the display’s centerpiece the Brooch of Badbh Catha what do you make of the legend that it is cursed? Was there not great controversy when it was announced the brooch would be displayed abroad?
Yes, well the legend behind the brooch is part of its appeal. It is true this is the first time it will be displayed outside Ireland. However between you and me I won't be loosing much sleep over ancient warrior priestesses or banshees.
The reporters laugh and nod their heads.
INT. MUSEUM, OFFICE.
The museum curator Niles Frazier sitting behind his desk is congratulating Kavanagh on an excellent opening to the exhibition. Kavanagh is tidying up some files and putting them in his briefcase.
Once again Richard, I have to say you’re quite the showman.
No one said history had to be boring.
Right you are too. I think this is going to be quite a big attraction, especially considering the show piece we’ve got now.
Well you know what they say about publicity.
I always find people’s fascination with the occult itself fascinating in its own right.
People like to touch the dark side of the unknown, especially from behind the safety of a display case.
Err ..Richard……… if you’re not doing anything special later on my family would love to have you over for dinner……….
It’s been a long time.
Thanks Niles, but I have an appointment with a young, pretty brunette. She’ll be mad if I miss it.
How is little Emily anyway?
(getting up to leave)
She’s grand, starting high school in the fall. She’s not so little anymore. We’re very proud.
Give my love to your sister too will you?
(opening the door)
Will do Niles.
Thanks for everything.
INT. KAVANAGH’S CAR, ROAD. NIGHT
Kavanagh is driving along the roadway out of the city. It's an
extremely blustery night. He looks across at the roadside. The huge trees are swaying violently in the wind. RRRRRING! Kavanagh picks up his phone and answers it.
Hi, Becky! Yes I’m finished up, I’m heading out right now.
Of course I remember where it is. How is my favourite niece?
Wow, what’s his name? Well Damien is one lucky guy isn’t he?
Yep, sure thing, look don’t worry. I should be there in about an hour, just make sure you don’t burn the duck like you usually do and …….
Something catches Kavanagh’s eye. On the roadside caught in the headlights, looks like the figure of a stooped old woman in a tattered grey shawl. Kavanagh speeds past. He glances in his rearview. Nothing there.
Huh? Oh nothing sorry. Thought I saw something. I’ll see you later. Bye.
Kavanagh puts down the phone and peers out onto the road.
Ugh. Jet lag huh?
After driving along for a few minutes he turns to look at the roadside. Again there appears the figure of a stooped old woman. Kavanagh strains to see as he approaches the figure but her back is to the road. He rubs his eyes. The figure is gone when he reopens them. He glances nervously from side to side. Something spooky maybe? Nah. He turns on the radio to calm himself down. Weather reports are forecasting good weather.
EXT. RANCH ENTRANCE.
We see Kavanagh’s car turn into the entrance of a small ranch.
Large fields dominate either side of the wooden fencing.
INT. KAVANAGH’S CAR
Kavanagh is driving up the long laneway. The radio hums away quietly in the background as he looks forward. His eyes narrow. Up ahead among the swaying grass and trees he thinks he sees the old woman again. A strange voice drifts in the wind. Soft at first, now slowly building. Suddenly a high pitched scream shatters the air. The radio becomes static. Kavanagh’s eyes widen. He floors the car and it speeds towards the house. It skids to a stop and Kavanagh quickly exits his car, slamming the door behind him.
EXT. HOUSE GROUNDS.
Just as he jumps out of the car, he hears a gunshot ring out. It appears to come from the stables. Kavanagh sprints across to the stables as quick as he can.
Kavanagh throws open the doors.
He inches forward in the darkness. At either side he can hear the distressed horses neighing and anxiously pacing in their pens. He walks slowly to the back of the stable. What he sees horrifies him. Slumped on the ground at either side are the bloodstained bodies of his sister Becky and niece Emily. Becky is barely alive and holding a shotgun in her blood soaked arms, Emily lays face-down in the ground. Her back covered in a dark pool of blood. A large kitchen knife is in her hands.
He rushes over to the bodies, panicking he doesn’t know what to do. He kneels beside Becky.
Becks! Oh god! What?……..
He strains to hear Becky’s laboured whispers.
(pointing at Emily)
She slumps her head. Kavanagh pulls away to see his shirt now covered in blood. He begins to cry.
EXT. STABLES ROOF.
Camera PANS UPWARDS to see a hunched robbed figure on the stable roof. Wisps of white hair billow from a darkened hood and her tattered rags are blown violently by the strong wind. Is the figure crying or laughing? In the wind it’s hard to tell. The figure spreads out its arms and ……. FLASH! Transforms into a black crow which flies away.
SUPERNATURAL: KINDRED SPIRITS
INT. THE “CHERRY PIE” MUSIC VENUE. NIGHT
A CLOSE UP of a poster on a wall. It shows a picture of a warm pie with steam rising from it. The caption reads
The Jukebox Cops
LIVE at the Cherry Pie!
We PAN across to see a throng of young people bouncing up and down to the music of the rock band on stage. The lead singer is a girl with long blonde hair. The fast paced punk rock pounds the speakers as the band slam into their opening number. The small club is buzzing.
We PAN further across to see Dean and Sam sitting down in a darkened alcove. The table is covered in empty beer bottles. Dean takes a swig.
(shouting to Sam)
You coming down?
(straining to hear)
(motioning to the people in front of the stage)
Sam smiles and nods. Dean leaves the table and joins the crowd. Sam is about to follow him when his phone begins to vibrate on the table in front of him. Sam picks it up. CLOSE UP of the caller ID :“Dad”. Sam struggles to make his way through the crowd towards the exit.
Damn it, don’t hang up……
EXT. “CHERRY PIE”, STREETS.
Sam stumbles out onto the streets and puts the phone to his ear. He hears a dead tone.
He looks away in disgust and is about to redial when it rings again. Hastily he presses it to his ear.
INT. “CHERRY PIE”, DANCEFLOOR
Dean spies a sexy young girl gyrating to the music. He raises his eyebrow and goes in for the kill. Just as he reaches her, someone taps on his shoulder.
Look man, if it's your girlfriend or your sister I was just gonna…
Oh it's you
We gotta go…
Sam walks away. Dean shoots a reluctant glance towards the girl before following.
TRACKING SHOT of the Chevy Impala. (She's a Screamer by Rhino Bucket)
Sam is in the driving seat. Dean stares longingly out the window.
This better be good man…
I just got a call from Dad
So now both of you are conspiring to spoil my fun?
Will you get over yourself?
So what’s up?
He wants us to check out a suicide case, or murder case …
Or something? Look I know dad majored in vague but…
A double killing, a mother and daughter. Completely outta the blue.
Cops have any idea who killed them?
Dean looks across at Sam imploringly.
They killed each other seemingly.
So it’s domestic. Tragic. What’s it got to do with us?
They had absolutely no reason to. In fact they were planning a family dinner together that evening. The girl’s uncle was visiting.
He got anything to do with it?
Don’t know. That guy was an old friend of dad’s. His family has a long lineage of hunters, although he wasn’t one himself. Dad seemingly thinks there’s something fishy about it.
So you’re following dad’s lead?
Doesn’t seem like you.
Yeah well you said it yourself. Sometimes your greatest asset is your instinct.
Dean looks at Sam and smiles.
EXT. HEAVEN’S DALE CEMETARY, GRAVESITE. DAY
A funeral is taking place. Mourners dressed in black are gathered around a gravesite. Two white coffins are laid out on the ground. One adult and one slightly smaller in size. Dean and Sam stand at the back of the group, watching the proceedings. A grey haired priest is giving a eulogy.
Death comes to us all. And although it may seem random and premature, we can take comfort in knowing that those who live and believe in the Lord are always prepared to take that final, liberating step to join the father. They have not died, only taken the first step in a journey that we will one day join them on.
CLOSE UP of Sam’s face. Deep in remembrance.
And so it is with these words of comfort we commit our sisters Rebecca Ann Morgan and Emily Jane Morgan to the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
The coffins are lowered into the ground. CLOSE UP of Richard Kavanagh’s face. Emotional.
Dean and Sam walk up to Kavanagh. Sam extends his hand.
We’re very sorry to hear about your sister and your niece Mr Kavanagh.
Yeah loosing family is always tough.
Do I know you boys? You seem familiar.
I’m Sam Winchester
(motions to Dean)
This is my brother Dean.
Dean nods. Kavanagh’s face brightens slightly.
I’m happy to see you.
Well I wish we could have met under happier circumstances.
Of course, me too.
(looking back towards the gravesite)
It’s the loss of life so young that makes it hardest to take, you know?
Oh please, Richard.
Our dad has reason to believe that you might be in danger. He said we could speak freely in front of you because..
Because of my family?
The group begins to walk away.
Being chosen is not just a gift, you know. It can also be a curse. I always admired my family, I was proud of what they did,
But that wasn’t my life. I wasn’t going to live my life for someone else, or for an ideal. The hunter’s blood is strong in my family. But I couldn’t devote myself to it and unless you can you will only do more harm than good.
Yeah, it's……… difficult sometimes.
But you are both such young men! Don’t let an old man bring you down.
You know we’ll need you to tell us everything.
Everything you can.
Yes, I know.
They say a person who ignores his past will be the most surprised when it catches up with him. And I’m afraid I’ve made more mistakes than most…