“Hello, Graham. I’m calling you from
paradise!” Arcane’s soothed and relaxed voice can
be heard as the episode opens on a beautiful scenic area. The
view pans right across some trees, and a sign saying
‘Garden of Allah villas’. The area has a relaxing,
Mediterranean feel to it. “Yes, I know it’s only 2
hours away....” Arcane continues in a slow and lazy
voice as the view continues to pan beyond the trees to a
beautiful set of gardens and a mosaic fountain;
“....I’m so tired; it’s paradise enough for
me.” Arcane sighs. All around, hoards of sun worshippers
are enjoying the beautiful weather and relaxing, drinking
cocktails etc. The view pans past the fountain and continues
to a small set of steps. “You can’t come and visit!
Solitude is what I need.....and I think I might find it
here.” He continues. As the view continues down the
steps we see Arcane seated at a round glass table with a
sunshade. He’s dressed casually, wearing sunglasses, and
relaxing with a drink whilst talking to Graham on a cell
phone. “I’ve been here 15 minutes and already I
feel like a new man!” He says wistfully, as a group of
bikini clad beauties walk past him from the bar. Distracted
from his conversation with Graham, he removes his shades to
get a better look at the view; ogling them appraisingly.
Anton gives up his
career as an evil genius to follow his
inner child and become a judge
for Miss Houma '93
“Scenery is breathtaking!” He gasps in appreciation. As she walks past, one of the ladies, wearing a skimpy pink and black spotted bikini nudges him accidentally. He smiles broadly at her, his eyes lighting up excitedly. “Hello!” He purrs to her smoothly and suggestively, with a Cheshire cat grin. “Hi!” She replies softly, turning and smiling at him as she walks up the steps. “No! Not you, you idiot!” Arcane snaps at Graham, who, for some reason, has obviously imagined that Arcane’s coming on strong was meant for him. Arcane quickly hangs up the phone and rushes to his feet, darting after the woman; all the while keeping his broad, beaming smile. “Oh...I say!” He calls after her, pointing to catch her attention. At the top of the steps she stops and turns, waiting for him to catch up. He takes her hand gallantly and puts on his best ‘how to chat up women’ voice; “Charmed. I’m Dr. Anton Arcane; and you are.....?” “Roxanne.” She reciprocates with a smile indicating that she’s as interested as he is. “Roxanne?....Oh, I like the sound of that very much!” he says softly and sensually, looking her up and down with another broad smile.
"Yeah,
you seem like a nice guy, Anton......Well, just as long as
you don't turn out
to be some wacko limey scientist that, like keeps his dead
wife in a freezer and talks
Shakespeare to her! My last boyfriend turned out like that
and he was, like, a real loser !"
Later that night, in Arcane’s bedroom, he and Roxanne are in bed together. Whatever they’ve been up to, it’s certainly knocked him out and he’s lying half asleep, while she’s making a move to get out of bed. “Shhh....You just stay asleep;” She whispers softly to him, stroking and patting him gently on his bare chest; “I have to get back to my room.” She explains as she gets up and moves away from the bed. In his sleep, he reaches over and fumbles for her, giving a drowsy little moan. Finding nothing, he rolls lazily back over to his side of the bed and continues with whatever pleasant dreams he’s having. As Roxanne opens the door to leave, light suddenly floods into the room. He seems disturbed by this; half waking reflexively and shielding his eyes from it. The door then shuts again and the room’s back in darkness. He settles back down to sleep; still not really awake. A few seconds later, the door swings open again; and again the room is flooded with light. This time it wakes him more fully, although he’s still not completely aware. “Roxanne?” He asks in a confused voice. There’s no reply and the room goes dark as the door shuts again. Peace is restored, and it seems too much effort to do anything about it, and he settles again, rolling onto his side and snuggling into the pillow for more pleasant dreams. A few seconds later, the same thing happens and the room is flooded with light. This time it’s got his attention and he finally sits up. “Who’s there?” he asks with irritation as he seems bothered by the illumination. A shadow appears on the wall by his bed; a shadow of a figure in a broad brimmed hat.
"Freddy
who??....Look, mate, it's
3 o'clock in the bloody morning!"
“I’m back!” comes a familiar
southern drawl. “Who the hell’s that!?” Arcane
asks furiously, now sitting up fully. “Hello, Anton.
Been a long time.” A voice gloats, lengthening the word
‘long’ for extra emphasis. “LaRoche?”
Arcane exclaims, still shielding his sensitised eyes from the
light; “You’re supposed to be in the asylum!”
He says incredulously. “But I’m not....Now I am in
your dreams!” The voice says with confident menace, as
the shadow begins to move. A figure approaches Arcane: A
large man, although we can’t see his face. He reaches
out and grabs Arcane by the hair with one hand; and hitting
him hard across the face with the other. The force of the
blow is enough to knock Arcane out of the bed and onto the
floor.
From outside the villa, we hear the vicious sounds of a
prolonged and severe beating being meted out
Some time later we the scene goes to the Grassy Meadows
Hospital in Houma. Inside it’s a chaotic place: Clearly
a mental hospital. One patient, a large man, is standing by a
window, arms outstretched and gazing vacantly; others are
wandering round like zombies; One man is wearing a dressing
gown and goggles; another is wearing women’s apparel.
All around there are the shrieks and moans of severely
disturbed individuals. A blond, middle aged woman is standing
behind a crude reception desk marked ‘Office’.
“Dr. Williams! I would like a word with you!”
Arcane’s voice snarls as he enters the scene, pushing
his way angrily through the throng of inmates to the desk;
“How could you let that lunatic loose!?” He rants;
“He’s a menace to society, as well evidenced by the
colour chart on my face!” He points angrily to a large,
livid bruise covering most of the left side of his face;
which is looking the worse for wear. “Please, doctor,
calm down. Let’s take a walk.” Dr. Williams
suggests helpfully, in a patient voice, ushering him away
from the desk and down a corridor. As they walk together, she
seems confused by Arcane’s problem. “Carter LaRoche
is my problem!” He snarls; “The man who would have
turned Houma into a giant water amusement park if it
hadn’t been for me....HE’S OUT!!” As
they’re walking, inmates are shuffling and scampering in
the background. The cacophony of their cries and laughter are
loud. As they walk past a man lying on a gurney, Dr. Williams
assures Arcane that LaRoche hasn’t been released.
“Well, then he escaped!” Arcane shrieks; “He
came to my hotel room last night and almost beat me half to
death!!” Just at that moment, an orderly walks past,
pushing a blissfully semi-conscious inmate past in a
wheelchair: It’s LaRoche! Arcane stares in bewilderment.
Williams seems concerned and puts a hand to the bruise on
Arcane’s face. “Are you sure you don’t want
the doctors to look at you?” He flinches and pushes her
hand away sharply. “Don’t touch me!” He snaps;
then turns to look at the orderly, pointing to LaRoche;
“If he gets out again, your doctors are going to be
treating their own bruises!” He snarls furiously, before
turning and storming off; being accosted and played with a
little by the inmates on his way out.
Even Arcane was
beginning to see a
need for reforms in the health service
Some time later at Grassy Meadows, Will is
there. He’s sitting on a bench, waiting, sandwiched
between two interested inmates; and looking decidedly
uncomfortable. The sounds of moaning and shrieking can still
be heard all around. To his left is the inmate in the
ladies’ clothing, who’s touching Will with
curiosity. Will shifts away slightly, closer to the man on
his right, who doesn’t appear to be preferable company.
Will is starting to look decidedly nervous when he sees
someone approaching. “Dr. Williams!” he says
eagerly, springing to his feet and greeting her. “Will.
Hello, dear.” She greets him in a pleasant, motherly
fashion. “I’m sorry I’m late. One of my
patients had, um...” She looks uneasy, stumbling on her
words; “...Well, er, let’s just say we were
unexpectedly detained.” Will looks around to something
that’s happening to his left. Another inmate is being
carried off. Around them, the chattering and moaning seems to
increase. “Are you all right?” Dr. Williams asks,
patting Will’s face with concern; “You look a
little pale?” In the background, the man previously
standing against the window, arms outstretched, is still
happily there, gazing vacantly at nothing. Will’s
becoming flustered; “....It’s just that,
er,....” he seems to gain a little more confidence;
“You remember those patients that we took out on the
boat tour a few months ago?” She nods understandingly;
“Well they, er....seemed....normal.” He confides in
an almost hushed tone, seemingly embarrassed at using the
word ‘normal’. She understands. “Those were
the OUT patients;” she explains; “The ones in here
are the IN patients. I guess you noticed the big
difference.” She smiles. He nods; “A little
bit.” He quips. “Still want the job?” She asks
him. He thinks for a short moment, closes his eyes, and nods.
“Ordinarily, one of the janitors would have sponged down
that wall...” Dr. Williams explains as Will touches a
corridor wall that has been graffittied on. Some
inmate’s decided to paint their stick man version of
Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’ on this wall;
“....but now we’re a little short handed with the
new budget cuts.” She continues. “This paint
here?....” Will points to the artwork, feeling the
texture of the paint between his fingers; “....Is this a
water based paint?” he asks. “Er, no. That’s
blood.” Williams replies matter of factly. Will just
stares as she continues; “One of our patients broke a
window and used the glass shard to seriously injure
himself....Oh!...and which reminds me! Could you replace that
window pane when you get through in here?” She asks,
indicating with her thumb where the room with the window is.
“Yeah, sure....urm...anything you want.” Will
agrees with a helpful, but resigned tone of voice; still
looking dazed. “Good boy!” she says cheerfully,
patting him, and then leaving. When she’s gone, Will
turns back to stare at the wall with an increasingly agitated
look. “Nice picture!” he quips uneasily.
"Me. Aged
10" by A.B. Normal
Later, Will is getting on with the job of
painting over the picture. He looks to his left.
“Hi.” He quietly and politely acknowledges someone
who’s watching him. His nervousness seems to increase
and he turns round to see a group of 4 inmates crowding him
menacingly; with more approaching. He panics and hurriedly
opens a door next to the painting, dashing into the room,
where he shuts himself in for safety; gasping and breathing a
sigh of relief as he puts his head against the door while he
contemplates his close call. He suddenly freezes as he
becomes aware that he isn’t alone in the room. He turns
in trepidation. A man is seated down, hands on thighs,
watching him intently: It’s LaRoche. “Hi
there!” He greets Will, getting to his feet; “You
the one come to fix my window?”
“You’re a real pro at this.” LaRoche utters in
praise as Will is standing on a set of steps fixing a barred
window; “You know I used to do a little carpentry
myself.” He adds in a friendly manner. “Yeah, well,
I wish I had some better materials to use.” Will laughs,
commenting that the glass (thick and opaque with what looks
to be years worth of grime) looks about 40 years old, as he
finally gets down from the steps, the window finished.
“No expense is spared!” Laughs LaRoche, building an
empathy and rapport with Will. “Well, I do thank you for
fixing my window, son.” He says to Will, who nods in
acknowledgement at the thanks. “I take it that you
didn’t do this?” Will asks. “No.” LaRoche
says gently; contemplating as he turns his back on Will and
strolls away from him; “No, that was poor Mr. Scott. You
know I really do feel sorry, ‘bout what happened to
him....” He sits down on the edge of his bed and looks
up; “....but I just wish he’d chosen somebody
else’s window to break. I mean 2 days in here without
sunshine was beginning to drive me crazy!” Outside the
room, the cries of the inmates seem to grow louder;
emphasising LaRoche’s comment. At the other end of the
room, Will is gathering his tools in a bag. He then turns to
LaRoche. “You’ll forgive me for saying this; but
you seem a far cry from crazy;” LaRoche gives a wry
smile at Will’s comment; “I mean especially
compared to some of the other people round here.” Will
points outside. “That’s because ah’m not
crazy. Thank you for picking up on that, son.” He says
with a broad smile. “So?” Will begins to ask,
gesturing with open, questioning hands; then pauses. “So
why am I here?” LaRoche bluntly finishes Will’s
sentence. Will nods. “That can be explained in 2 simple
words.” LaRoche states, almost savouring the 2 ensuing
words, as he lays back down on his bed; “Anton
Arcane!” he says slowly and venomously, as he stretches
his arms, flexes his fingers, and puts his hands behind his
head. Will looks uncomfortable.
“So then Arcane lures me into this business deal; and
then he double crosses me, and makes me out to be nuts when
the people of Houma find out about it!” LaRoche finishes
explaining to Will in what certainly seems to be a somewhat
different viewpoint of the events from ‘Better
Angels’. As he talks, LaRoche takes something out of his
shirt pocket, then stands up again and approaches Will,
who’s seated by the window on the steps. “Now I
admit to some fraud; but I am NOT nuts.” LaRoche
continues, getting close to Will; “On the other hand,
Arcane is a cancer in this town. I mean as if condemning me
to this hell wasn’t enough....” Will finds himself
nodding slightly as LaRoche’s words are drawing him in;
“....he comes in here, screamin’ that I broke into
his hotel room and beat him up in the middle of the
night.....” He looks down at the object he’s
cradling in his hands: A gold watch; “....Now, which one
of us d’you think’s crazy?” He puts to Will,
holding his gaze, then looking down at the watch again;
making sure that Will also gets a good look at it too.
“That’s a great looking watch.” Will
compliments it. LaRoche just stares at Will in the eyes,
keeping his gaze held; then lets the watch slip from one hand
and dangles it on it’s chain in the other. It spins,
glinting and catching the light. “Well thank you.”
LaRoche says, spinning the thing some more. Will stares
fixedly at it; “It belonged to mah daddy......24 carat
gold...” He says softly.....slowly, all the while
spinning the watch. Will seems to become entranced, his
eyelids gradually becoming heavy and tired.
"You
don't have to be mad to work here, but it helps!"
"Er, are we talking about the hospital....or the
series?"
Some time later, Will and Dr. Williams are
walking down the corridor together. She has her arm around
his and they are laughing together. Will is carrying the
steps. Behind them, the inmate previously seen standing by
the window, arms outstretched, is still there staring
vacantly into space. “Oh, here you go, Will.” Dr.
Williams says, handing him a cheque; “I can’t thank
you enough for your help.” He takes it and puts it away
safely. “Sure. Call anytime.” Will says and they
both smile. “Dr. Williams?” Will thinks a bit then
asks; “Excuse me for asking this, but how long will
Carter LaRoche have to stay around here.....I mean he seems a
little out of place, you know?” She smiles in
appreciation at the question; “Yeah, I know what you
mean. Well, actually his release could come at anytime; Just
as soon as the committee is convinced that he’s overcome
his obsession.” She replies. “Obsession?” Will
enquires. In the background, orderlies arrive to cart off
window hanging man. As he’s carried off, his arms are
still outstretched and he’s stiff as a board. “Mr.
LaRoche believes there’s a beast in the swamp
that’s out to get him.” Dr. Williams continues.
“No kidding!” Will comments with a puzzled nod.
“Yeah, and that one glitch has prevented his
release;” They both pause for a moment; “but it
looks as if he’s finally let it go.” She almost
whispers to Will, as though not daring this obsession to
return.
In the swamp, a man is deliberately pouring poisonous
chemicals into the swamp from some cans. We can’t see
who it is.
Later that night, we’re at the Garden of Allah Villas
again. “I drove all the way back here to finish my
vacation!” Arcane is talking angrily into his cell
phone; presumably to Graham. “....I don’t give a
damn about a bunch of spilled containers in the swamp, you
moron!!” He rants. Beside him, Roxanne is unhappy and
looks at him with concern as she takes a mouthful of dinner.
“I want you to find out about LaRoche. NOW!!” He
snarls, hanging up abruptly and slamming the phone down onto
the glass table in a fit of pique. He sits there, quietly
fuming. Roxanne puts down her fork and takes his arm.
“Anton, are you OK?” she asks. Behind them, a
waiter pours them a glass of water. “ ‘Course
I’m OK! I’m on my bloody vacation, aren’t
I!?” he snaps at her. It looks like she’s had
enough of his tantrums and gets up with a disgruntled shake
of her head; “Excuse me.” She says, getting up from
the table and walking away. He seems to regret his outburst
immediately and watches her go, reaching out and starting to
say something to explain or call her back; but he falters,
and resignedly lets her go.
Beaten senseless,
poisoned....overdone Chateaubriand; and
no cheesecake! Arcane vows never to go Club 18 - 30 again !
He just sits, looking glum and dejected; then
suddenly more intense and annoyed as he spots something to
his right. In an alcove by a door, a large figure is standing
there in a broad brimmed hat; smiling at him before moving
away. Arcane continues to stare for a short while, then
motivates; getting up and rushing towards the alcove and
looking round. Nobody is there. “Damn you,
LaRoche!” He shouts; “I know it was you! That
straightjacket routine hasn’t had me fooled for a
second!” He continues to rant; “You stay away from
me, you hear!?.....or you’ll find yourself in a pine box
at the morgue!!” He threatens furiously.
Meanwhile, in the swamp, Alec comes across the poisonous
chemicals that were dumped earlier. It’s a thick green
cloud in the water. He wades in until the water’s at
waist height, then stands still and concentrates. All around
him, the water bubbles and rushes into him, where he seems to
act as a filter system for it; until all the green cloud is
gone and the water’s still and clear again. He clenches
his fists and groans audibly, before wading back out onto the
bank, stumbling and moaning as he does so. When out of the
water, he collapses and rolls onto his back. Without
attempting to move, he just rests.
Alec couldn't
remember the last time he'd had flatulence this bad, and
put it down to the duckweed Madras that Will had cooked last
night
In the Langford house, Will’s in the
kitchen carrying a box, which he puts down on the work
surface. “Will!” He hears Alec’s deep voice in
his head, calling him. He turns and looks concerned, then
leaves.
He goes straight to the swamp where he’s hurriedly
pushing his way through the foliage.
“Alec....what’s wrong?” He says with deep
concern as he sees Alec ahead of him, lying where he fell. He
rushes over and kneels down beside Alec, holding his arm with
one hand and putting the other on his chest. “You might
say it’s something I ate.” Alec manages a quip;
“A poison leaked into the water, but fortunately I was
able to absorb it into my system before much damage was
caused.” He explains. “Are you going to be all
right?” Will asks. “I’ll be better in the
morning when I’ve had a chance to be in the sun and
photosynthesise.” Will suddenly gets intensely angry.
“It’s got to stop, Alec! You realise our lives
aren’t even our own anymore. Everything we do is
dictated by one dangerous egomaniac....” His vitriolic
outburst seems unusual for him, and is getting worse;
“....It’s time to stop Arcane!!” He states
resolutely, getting up and making to leave. Alec’s
noticed the sudden change. “Will?” He reaches out
to stop him going, calling to him. Will turns and listens to
Alec; “I know you hate Arcane, but this venomous
outburst, it...it just isn’t like you.” He tries to
reason with Will. It doesn’t work. Will gets even
angrier. “I’m tired, that’s all!!” He
screams in fury; “I’m tired of watching my friend
go through his days as a plant! I’m tired of Houma being
led around by the nose. I’M JUST PLAIN TIRED!!”
Alec regards his now unstable friend. “I gotta go.”
Will says, more calmly this time; but still seething with
anger. He turns and leaves, storming off. Too weak to do
anything, Alec closes his eyes and rests.
Later, back in the Langford house kitchen, Will is stirring
the contents of a saucepan with a wooden spoon. He takes a
taste. Just then, the phone rings. Will wipes his mouth with
his hand; then wipes his hand on his T-shirt, before going
over to answer it. “Hello?” is the only word he
says before freezing with a strange and cold expression on
his face. The atmosphere is eerie.
Later, the scene is outside Arcane’s hotel room again.
In Arcane’s room there’s an intruder, who quietly
goes over to the gas main and turns it on. He then sneaks out
of the room, carefully opening and shutting the door behind
him without waking Arcane. Gas begins to flood into the room.
Coughing can be heard as Arcane awakens. He switches on the
bedside lamp and gets out of bed. “It’s a bloody
gas leak!!” he gasps as he looks around and sees the gas
tap on. He switches it off, coughing and gasping. He then
opens the window and leans out of it, desperately breathing
in lots of fresh air. He then staggers to the door, opening
it and leaving the room. He stands on a balcony type area at
the top of the steps to his room, looking out. “Damn
you, LaRoche! You swine!!” He yells furiously, still
coughing; “I know you’re responsible for this. Why
don’t you show yourself!? Show some guts!” He
challenges. There’s no answer. Still coughing, he
staggers back into his room. Below the balcony, his assailant
hides in the shadows, listening.....It’s Will.
"OK! I know you
promised I could do some Shakepeare
this episode; but why are we doing Romeo and Juliet?
......and what am *I* doing on the bloody balcony??"
“I want to know how you got into my room last night?” Arcane’s voice is heard over an exterior view of Grassy Meadows Hospital the next day. “I was in a group therapy session last night, Anton.” LaRoche insists innocently in his room. “You know there are several people who can corroborate his story.” Dr. Williams tells Arcane, who looks down at her disdainfully. “I’m sure anybody could corroborate his story if you pumped them full of enough drugs!” Arcane quips sarcastically. Williams has had enough and declares visiting hours to be over. LaRoche interjects; “Er, Dr. Williams, wait, er...Could I have a few moments alone with Dr. Arcane?” He asks. “Well, all right. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” She says to LaRoche with a smile, before turning to Arcane, still smiling. “Who? Him, or me!?” Arcane sneers. “I’ll be in my office.” She says, leaving. As she goes, Arcane shuts the door behind her, shutting himself in with LaRoche. “All right. You got your witness out of the room. Now what the hell are you up to LaRoche?” Arcane says bluntly. “Nothing, Anton; I swear!” He feigns innocence, turning his back to Arcane and walking over to a table. Arcane is watching him like a hawk. “I don’t know anything about this.” He continues, picking up his watch from atop a pile of towels; “When I saw you here today, I thought that we might be able to put some of our past differences behind us now.” With his back to Arcane, and his body obscuring the doctor’s view, he fiddles with the watch. Arcane continues to regard him with a stony gaze. LaRoche continues his spiel; “But you know...” he turns to face Arcane, speaking calmly; “...if anyone should be angry about what happened, it should be me.” Arcane says absolutely nothing, merely glowering at LaRoche intently; “...but I bear no grudge!” LaRoche exclaims, arms outstretched in a gesture of openness, and smiling magnanimously. His right fist is clenched; his left, open palmed. “Spare me this drivel, will you?” Arcane merely comments quietly, not taken in for a second. LaRoche continues, moving in close to Arcane.
Contract
negotiations were going with some
difficulty until the producers hit on a wonderful idea !
“You know you just don’t seem yourself lately, Anton;” he says softly; almost sympathetically patronising; “I mean all these....all these wild accusations....” he puts his clenched fist to his chin; “...They’re just not like you!” He adds careful emphasis by gesturing forward with the clenched fist on each word; “...they reek...of paranoia.” On that last word, he opens his fist and lets the watch dangle down on it’s chain, where it catches Arcane’s rapt gaze. “Have you been under a lot of strain lately, Anton?” His voice is slow and hypnotically captivating as he spins the watch around. Arcane stares at it, unable to draw his eyes away; “...because if you have.....this is a WONDERFUL place to relax....” He gives a slow and easy drawl; “.....and work through difficult times.” Arcane continues to stare vacantly, then blinks rapidly a few times, breaking himself out of his trance; then, realising what’s happening, angrily grabs LaRoche’s arm and pushes it and the watch down, out of his sight. “Now you listen to me!” He orders, pointing LaRoche in the chest for emphasis; “If anything else strange happens to me, or near me; you’ll spend the rest of your days in here.....working through YOUR difficult times!” He threatens. He then leaves, not taking his eyes off LaRoche for a second.
As the strain of the
series was getting too much
for him, Will broke into another chorus of 'Kumbaya'
Meanwhile, in the Langford house, Will is
lounging on the sofa playing his guitar. The phone rings.
With a deep sigh, he takes some gum out of his mouth that
he’s been chewing and slaps it on the guitar for safe
keeping. “I gotta get me a secretary.” He quips,
putting the guitar down beside him and reaching over to pick
up the phone from the table beside the sofa.
“Hello?” He says. Just like last time, the
atmosphere becomes eerie and Will freezes with an odd
expression, saying nothing more.
Later, in the swamp, Alec regains consciousness and becomes
aware of the sound of a chainsaw. He’s recovered now and
gets to his feet and goes to investigate. As he nears the
sound, he passes scenes of devastation. Trees and bushes
everywhere have been lopped down. Ahead, he sees a young man
with his back to him, bending down to destroy another tree.
“STOP!” Alec commands, placing a hand on the
man’s shoulder. He turns to face Alec, a vacant but
determined look on his face: It’s Will; and he
doesn’t seem to recognise Alec.
Still livid that
Arcane got to do 'Nightmare on Elm St.',
Will tries his hand at 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre'
With a hateful and murderous stare, he raises the chainsaw to attack; but Alec manages to knock the thing out of his hand and away. He grabs Will by the shoulders, almost shaking him. “Will! What’s wrong?” He asks with concern. Will just continues to stand there, staring vacantly; “Can you hear me!?” Alec asks again. No reply. He puts his hand to Will’s forehead and concentrates for a few moments. Will eventually gives a gasp, closing his eyes and collapsing in pain. Alec manages to catch him before he hits the ground. Supporting Will, Alec helps him over to a tree where he sits him down gently against it. He kneels down beside Will, holding him for reassurance. “My head!” Will groans painfully. “Just take it slowly.” Alec advises. “Oh, what a hangover!!” Will puts both hands to the side of his head and a lengthy groan; “I don’t even remember getting drunk.” He sounds almost sad at the thought of missing such an obviously momentous event. “Oh you weren’t drunk! Alec comments (with the merest hint of smugness?). Will looks around him, noticing for the first time the wreaked devastation. “What happened around here?” he asks, looking at Alec; “Looks like someone went after this place with a chainsaw.” Alec regards him. “It was you, Will. YOU did this.” Will looks aghast. “What!?” he gasps incredulously. “You were hypnotised.” Alec explains. Will can’t believe this. “I should have realised it sooner. The poisons I absorbed left my senses a little dull.” Will puts a hand to the back of his neck, feeling it painfully. Alec continues; “You must try to remember what you did before waking up here.” He says. Will thinks; “I...I was playing my guitar...er....the phone rang....” He shakes his head in confusion, obviously not remembering more. “Who called you?” Alec prompts; “Try to remember the voice.” Will contemplates; then realisation hits him. “It was Carter LaRoche!” Will takes his hand from his neck with determination, and struggles to his feet. Alec assists him, supporting him as he finally stands. “I told you he was dangerous.” Alec comments, as he and Will start to walk away. Alec’s still supporting Will as they do so. “He must have hypnotised you when you visited him that day.” Alec realises. “But how?” Will asks; “I mean, he didn’t say any of the normal things; like ‘Now you’re getting sleepy’....” He’s only now managed to recover enough to walk unaided; “All he did was rag on Arcane a bit....He was happy when I fixed his window.....the sun could shine in.....Wait a minute!...The watch!!” Will remembers suddenly. “The watch?” Alec reiterates. “Yeah, he was shining a watch when I saw him. Then he let it dangle in front of me, with the sun on it.....Next thing I remember, I’m outside talking to Dr. Williams, saying goodbye.” They both stop walking to contemplate this. Will is confused. “I can’t remember anything past the watch!” he exclaims, turning to face Alec, realising that this was how LaRoche did it. He also realises something else; “What else have I done around here?” He asks with trepidation; “The waste containers: I spilled them, didn’t I?” He states bitterly. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Alec reassures him; “It wasn’t your fault. The important thing is to put a stop to LaRoche. We can’t let him be released from that hospital.” Alec says through clenched teeth. “If he can wreak that much damage from inside, there’s no limit to what he can do once he’s free.” He says sombrely. They just stare at each other for a moment, then leave.
"OK, OK! I've
got it this time, Alec...I think. Let's see...I
shut my eyes....I count to ten....er, then I go and hide;
yes?"
“Look, I am telling you; this guy,
LaRoche is bad news!!” Will says emphatically to Dr.
Williams at the Grassy Meadows reception desk. In the
background, the man with outstretched arms is still leaning
against the corridor wall. “What makes you so positive
it wasn’t Arcane who hypnotised you?” Dr. Williams
asks him. As she says Arcane’s name, the insane
shrieking all around becomes louder. Will just stares at her.
In his room, LaRoche is sitting on his bed and polishing his
watch with a blue towel. There’s a knock at the door. He
turns to look, then gets up to answer it; all the while
continuing to polish the watch. “Come in.” He says,
and the door opens. It’s Dr. Williams.
“Carter....What do you know about hypnotism?” she
asks politely. “Why?” he laughs, polishing the
watch. She explains to him about Will’s accusation. He
just laughs again, dismissively, holding up the watch as
though he’s appraising it himself; staring at it as it
dangles and spins. “What a preposterous notion!” He
says slowly, savouring each word and grinning; and all the
while continuing to look at the watch, and making sure that
she does too. She seems captivated by it. “Are you with
me, Doctor?” He asks. She just nods, slowly and
vacantly. “Good!” he drawls; “Now I might need
to be letting myself out again tonight.” He says with a
tone of menace.
In his hotel room at the villas, Arcane’s standing by
his bed, holding a phone. By him is a packed suitcase, with
his leather jacket folded over it. “I’m on my way
back now, Graham.....Yes, I know I’m coming home early,
you idiot!; but since the purpose of this vacation was to get
away from stress, there’s not much point in my staying
here now, is there!?” He snaps, putting the phone back
down.
At the Langford house, Will is sitting at the kitchen table
fixing what looks like a radio when the phone rings. He looks
at it warily. After a pause, he puts down the screwdriver and
slowly gets up, going over to the phone on the wall. It rings
again. He pauses, looking like the thing might bite, then he
plucks up courage and answers it. “Hello?” He says
in a gruff voice. The atmosphere goes eerie again; and he
forcefully pushes the receiver away, finally dropping it
angrily.
At the other end, LaRoche is standing at a payphone in the
hospital corridor, looking confused. He puts the receiver
back and angrily searches in his pocket for a bunch of keys.
He then hurries out of the nearest door. On the other side,
he closes it and gives another look through the glass window
in it, to make sure he hasn’t been seen; then he backs
away from it. Behind him, a large mossy hand reaches out and
takes him by the shoulder. “Hello, Carter.”
Alec’s voice greets him calmly. LaRoche turns slowly in
horror, his eyes widening. He stares at Alec in abject
terror. “NNNOOOOOOOO!!” He gives a long, drawn out
scream, before panicking and running back through the door
into the corridor. “HELP ME!! HE’S COME BACK FOR
ME!!” He shrieks, slamming the door shut behind him and
running forward, bouncing off the outstretched arms man still
propping the wall up. He recovers and runs further down the
corridor; this time bouncing into Dr. Williams. “HELP
ME!!” he screams again, struggling with her before
running off out of the building. She calls some orderlies and
signals them to give chase.
"Look at it
this way, Carter. If this isn't
'Candid Camera', you're in deep shit !"
Outside, LaRoche runs down the steps and out
into the road, where he becomes illuminated in some
headlights. Meanwhile, poor old Arcane’s only just
arrived back in Houma after his 2 hour journey back from the
villas; only to find Carter Sinclair LaRoche bouncing off the
front of his car. “BLOODY HELL!!” he gasps. LaRoche
is lying almost still in the street, merely rolling over onto
his back and groaning weakly. Williams and two orderlies come
rushing down the steps to examine him; kneeling down and
feeling his neck for a pulse. Meanwhile, Arcane’s
stopped his car and comes rushing over, also crouching down
beside them. He’s looking agitated. “He came out of
nowhere. I turned the corner and he was just standing there.
I tried to stop!” He tries to explain hastily, sounding
genuinely concerned. “Relax, Dr. Arcane. He’s not
dead. Even if he were, I’m not sure it would be your
fault.” She reassures him, feeling LaRoche’s neck
again. He’s stirring slightly. “His hysteria has
brought him to this point.” She explains to Arcane; who
looks interested. “Hysteria? About what?” he asks,
intrigued. “That swamp creature he always claims was
plaguing him.” Williams explains. Arcane broods,
knowingly; “There’s only one thing left, and
that’s to send him off to a larger facility away from
here.” She says. Arcane seems back to his normal self
now. “Yes, I think that would be appropriate.” He
agrees sympathetically, with a wry, knowing smile and a nod.
He gets up and gives an upwards glance, contemplating
something with great interest.
Arcane drives straight to the swamp, where he parks his car
and gets out, looking around. He determinedly pushes his way
through a few bushes to the water’s edge. “Where
are you, Holland?” He shouts. Alec’s eyes can be
seen behind some foliage, watching Arcane. “Come on, I
know you’re out there somewhere.” He says in a
resigned, knowing tone of voice; not at all unfriendly. Alec
continues to regard him in silence. “Show
yourself.” Arcane continues, not giving up and looking
around with a slight smile. Alec steps out from his hiding
place and approaches Arcane from the far bank. “It seems
we have an unlikely alliance.” Arcane tells him.
“I’m not sure I understand you.” Alec plays
dumb. “Well, there’s only one person that could
convince someone they’d seen a swamp creature...”
he explains; “...and that’s a swamp creature
somewhat like yourself!” Arcane gestures to Alec,
smiling with appreciation at his own rationalisation.
“LaRoche was thought to be cured of his hallucinations;
but you made sure he was not.” Arcane recaps on the
events as he sees them, which do seem pretty accurate.
“I fail to see how that allies us.” Alec tells him.
“Well, we’re both after the same thing, aren’t
we?” Arcane explains, folding his arms round his chest;
“With LaRoche locked up and far away, I don’t have
to worry about any more little midnight visits.” He
contemplates happily, before giving a puzzled little look;
“Even still....I can’t quite work out how he did
it.” He broods, inclining his head slightly. “Who
says he did?” Alec says cryptically, using Arcane’s
uncertainty against him. “Well of course he did!”
Arcane insists, putting his hands on his hips.
“You’re the only one who ever saw it.” Alec
comments to him; “Maybe LaRoche isn’t the only one
with troubling hallucinations? Think about it.....and sleep
well tonight!” Alec adds with mock pleasantry and a smug
grin. Arcane watches him go, with a dismissive smile, folding
his arms again. “Now I am in your dreams!” he
suddenly hears LaRoche’s voice echoing from nowhere. He
looks around uneasily, pausing in contemplation and suddenly
looking chilled; before dismissing it again and walking back
to his car.