…AND THE BRIDE WHISPERS
BLACK OVER A MONTAGE OF WHITE LACE.
INT. ATTIC SPACE – DAY
Light plays into the darkened attic from gaps between tiles. Dust motes hang in the air. Boxes as piled here and there, each covered in a thick layer of dust.
In the middle of the attic the BRIDE sits on a small pile of boxes. Her bridal gown was once beautiful, but the white looks grey now.
She sits primly, folded hands on knees pressed firmly together. Her head in bowed slightly as if in prayer; perhaps as if she is waiting for something. We can see her through her veil, but her features are vague.
In the rooms below we hear the sound of something moving and voices in conversation.
Her eyes are closed and she looks like a statue.
The sounds get louder and the voices are closer now.
Her eyes open and, barely moving, they flicker to the hatch leading to the building below.
We hear the latches holding the hatch closed snap open and the hatch opens slightly.
Light beams into the attic like a laser beam and the BRIDE raises a hand to shield herself from it, her head turning away as the hatch opens.
As the MAN peers into the attic the BRIDE fades into nothing, unseen by him.
The MAN climbs into the attic; he is dressed in a shirt and tie with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He switches on a torch and shines it over the room, settling on the dust covered top of the box the BRIDE was sat on.
The dust on the box must be half an inch thick. He moves deeper into the attic, peering into boxes and looking up into the rafters.
No ones been up here in a while…
The WOMAN’s voice comes from the rooms below, we can hear her moving around and looking through things.
Nah, this is a…
The MAN stops and listens as his unseen companion suddenly goes silent. The MAN faces away from the hatch, in the background something moves and the BRIDE can be seen staring down to the rooms below.
A note… Yeah, looks like a murder/suicide down here… Want me to read it?
The MAN continues to look as the WOMAN begins to read from the note. The WOMAN’s voice beginning to be more affected by the notes contents as she reads.
“I’m sorry… I don’t know what happened… He kept saying it wasn’t true, that there wasn’t someone else, but I knew. He had changed and the whole world changed with him; and it left me alone… If he would only admit it I wouldn’t have gotten so angry; but I can’t undo this, its all gone too far… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… The word isn’t enough, I can say it until the sun burns out and it wouldn’t be enough… If only he could admit it, but he lied and lied and lied… But I’m still sorry.”
As the WOMAN reads the MAN has opened boxes, making his way back towards the hatch. The BRIDE is there the whole time; she is unseen by the MAN, just outside his field of vision.
The last box he opens was the box the BRIDE used as her seat. Inside is white lace; a wedding dress.
Were they married?
What was that?
This murder/suicide… were they married?
Nah… Who gets married these days anyway?
The MAN pulls the bridal gown out of the box and looks at it. Its the same gown the BRIDE wears.
The BRIDE stands behind him, moving closer with agonising slowness.
Well someone did…
How long have they lived here?
They’ve still got things in boxes down here, so not long I’d say… why?
Nah… This stuff isn’t theirs… Probably been up here for years…
The BRIDE reaches up with both hands, her movements are slow, almost mechanical, as she grasps her veil.
What was that?
The BRIDE lifts the veil, lowering her head slightly as she does so. When she raises it again we see her for the first time. Her skin is ashen and delicate black veins reach down from her temples. Her eyes are sunken and a pinpoint of light seems to leap from each of them.
The BRIDE is very close now, and as the MAN turns his head towards the hatch she moves to the other side of him, close enough he could feel her breath… if she had any. Her lips are grey and delicate curls of dead skin flutters across her face.
Nothing, I’m coming back down…
The BRIDE’s lips pull close to his ear, her arm snaking over his shoulder her palm presses to his chest over his heart. Black nails dig in, through her lace gloves we see a roadmap of blackened veins.
(so quiet its almost silent)
I love you…
The MAN’s expression changes instantly, a look of the lost falls over his eyes, his head moves against hers and for a moment we see them as lovers embracing.
INT. THE STAIRS – DAY
The WOMAN looks up through the darkened hatch to the attic, she looks irritated. On the stairs in front of her is a stepladder, and doorways around her lead to half seen bedrooms.
Hey? C’mon, we haven’t got all day here!
A few moments pass, there is no sound from above. The WOMAN fidgets impatiently, looking around and then stops abruptly. Slowly she looks up into the darkness above.
Is there someone else up there?
Do you have a woman with you?
(raising her voice)
I’m talking to you…
She turns and storms out of FRAME, the CAMERA settles of the black square into the attic. The SHOT runs on and on.
Abruptly the WOMAN re-enters the FRAME, brandishing a bloodied kitchen knife in her hand.
I’m not doing this, not again! You can’t treat me like this damn you! Do you hear me? Do you…
As she speaks she climbs the ladder and her head and shoulders disappear into the attic. Then her words stop and we hear s strangled scream.
The WOMAN’s legs kick, once, twice and the ladder falls, clattering down the stairs.
The WOMANS legs struggle some more and then stop. For a moment she dangles, swinging slightly before her body is swiftly dragged through the hatchway into the darkness.
(off camera – quietly)
I love you…
A moment ticks by and then suddenly the hatch is dragged closed.
CUT TO BLACK: