Page 232 - SHERLOCK transcripts

231

(Henry’s eyes widen as the memories begin to come. In brief flashes he starts to relive the
truth. As he has always remembered, his father is scrabbling at the ground trying to get away
from his attacker, but now for the first time Henry can see that what is pulling him backwards
across the earth is not a creature but a man wearing a dark leather old-fashioned gas mask.
The glass of the two large eye pieces is tinted a dark red and in the limited light available the
eye pieces seem to be glowing. Young Henry watches from partway up the slope, cringing and
terrified as the attacker pummels at his father, half strangling him and then punching wildly at
his face. Mr Knight manages to pull himself from under his assailant and starts to crawl away
but the other man, growling fiercely, tugs him backwards and Henry’s father loses his balance
and falls forward. His head strikes a rock and he collapses to the ground unmoving. Breathing
heavily through the gas mask, the other man pokes at him, realises that he isn’t going to move
again and gets to his feet. He looks down at the man he has just killed and young Henry sees
the sweatshirt he is wearing, with its picture of a snarling wolf-like creature, the letters
“H.O.U.N.D.” underneath and “Liberty, In” below them. Young Henry’s mind begins to mix
everything up and, some hours later when he meets the old lady walking her dog, his new
horror is complete and he screams in utter terror.
In the present he gapes at Sherlock as the truth reasserts itself in his mind.)
SHERLOCK: You couldn’t cope. You were just a child, so you rationalised it into something very
different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind
so that no-one would believe a word that you said.
(Quietly John steps forward, holding out his hand encouragingly towards Henry as Greg
Lestrade arrives and calls out while he trots down the slope towards them.)
LESTRADE: Sherlock!
JOHN (gently to Henry): Okay, it’s okay, mate.
(He carefully takes the pistol from Henry’s fingers. Henry speaks tearfully to Sherlock.)
HENRY: But we saw it: the hound, last night. We s... we, we, we did, we saw ...
SHERLOCK: Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was
nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it – saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to
see it. Fear and stimulus; that’s how it works.
(Henry stares at him in confusion. Sherlock returns his look sympathetically.)
SHERLOCK: But there never was any monster.
(The hound has different ideas, however, and now its anguished howl rings out in the woods
above them. Everyone’s head snaps up and John and Greg aim their flashlights upwards to the
top of the Hollow where a low shape can be seen slowly stalking along the rim and snarling.)
JOHN: Sherlock ...
(Sherlock stares up in disbelief as Henry turns to him, horrified.)
HENRY: No. (He begins to wail in panic.) No, no, no, no!
(He backs away as Sherlock tries simultaneously to hold out a calming hand towards him while
keeping his own torch shining up towards the creature above them.)
SHERLOCK: Henry, Henry ...
JOHN: Sherlock ...
(The creature continues to slink along the rim of the Hollow as Henry begins to scream in abject
terror. He crumples to his knees, continually screaming, “No!”)
JOHN: Henry!
(The hound turns towards the Hollow and looks down at everyone, snarling viciously. Its eyes
glow in the torchlight as Henry continues to wail.)
LESTRADE (staring up at the rim): Shit!
(John turns and shines his torch into his face.)
JOHN: Greg, are you seeing this?
(Greg glances at him momentarily and his expression answers the question. Sherlock takes a
quick look around to the inspector to see his face before turning back to stare up at the hound.)
JOHN: Right: he is not drugged, Sherlock, so what’s that? What is it?!
(As Henry continues to wail behind them, Sherlock screws his eyes shut for a brief moment,
trying to handle the overload in his mind. He stares upwards again.)
SHERLOCK: All right! It’s still here ... (he pants heavily for a moment before pulling himself
together) ... but it’s just a dog. Henry! It’s nothing more than an ordinary dog!
(The hound doesn’t think so and it raises its head and lets out a long terrifying howl.)
LESTRADE (stumbling backwards): Oh my God.
(And now the hound turns and leaps a short way down the slope, its eyes flashing red in the
torchlight.)
LESTRADE: Oh, Christ!

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)