Drawn Up From Deep Places

(Stops short; then)

Because . . . it’s what I want. All I want. Nothing more, or less.

He GROANS, horribly. MRS. BENTHAM gives a gasp, shies from him—he stops again, fixing her. Then gives a small, mirthless smile.

JACK

Oh, I am a sad object, without doubt. But you do well to fear me.

(Brings the knife up again)

Shall I show you why?

He EVISCERATES HIMSELF. Layers of sound tell the tale: FLESH PARTING, SPRAYS OF BLOOD, punctuated by corresponding GASPS, MOANS, and THUNDER. The RAIN drums on, as background. MRS. BENTHAM whimpers.

JACK

(Describing the cuts as he makes them)

Glandula . . . thyreoeidea. Sternum. Plica . . . umbilicalis . . . medialis. Messenterium . . . dorsale . . . commune. Vesica . . . urinaris.

A SICK, CRACKING SOUND as JACK takes his own RIBCAGE in both hands and PULLS IT APART.

MODIFY the RAIN to the sound of JACK’S PULSING BLOOD. BRING UP the BEATING of his EXPOSED, NAKED HEART.

JACK

(Screaming)

Here I am; here I am; here I am! Take a good look!

He and MRS. BENTHAM SCREAM one more time, together. Their cries, the sound of RAIN and JACK’S HEARTBEAT all peak at the same time.

FADE TO SILENCE.

OVER:

MRS. BENTHAM

An

d so we say goodbye?

JACK

Yes . . .

(After a long moment)

. . . goodbye.

MRS. BENTHAM

Always the gentleman.

(Moves away, voice DIMMING)

No place now but the water, for both of us.