As the credits run, we INTERCUT the following two sequences:
EXT. NEVADA DESERT - IDOLS - DAY
A SLOW DRIFT through a collection of crudely constructed,
surreal, six-foot tall "IDOLS." Like modern demons.
Grotesque. Disturbing. WE LAP DISSOLVE between details of
their twisted anatomies: headlamp eyes, bright metal claws,
broken glass teeth.
EXT. NEVADA ROADS - DESERT - DAY
Two vehicles, one a Volkswagen "bus" decorated with stylized
flames, the other a '66 Thunderbird, speeding along a series
of eerily empty desert roads, somewhere in a wilderness of
sand and heat.
CUT WIDE TO;
EXT. NEVADA DESERT - DAY
A violent WIND HOWLS around, but through the sand we-can just
make out a large, ominous building: the HOUSE of William
Nix. Its walls are white-washed and scrawled with GRAFFITI.
The "family" of IDOLS surrounds the doorway, guarding it. ON
SCREEN, the words: '"Nevada - Thirteen Years Ago"
EXT. NIX'S HOUSE - DAY
We're at the front door now, which stands open. Leaning
against the door-frame is a scrawny, wild-eyed YOUTH, about
sixteen. His name is BUTTERFIELD. He's got a brooding,
almost sultry look on his face. One of his eyes is black,
the other milky blue. He's whittling something with a
scalpel. Distantly, the sound of CAR ENGINES. Butterfield
narrows his eyes.
The Volkswagen "bus" and Thunderbird are approaching the
He turns from the door. In his haste he drops the WOOD he's
whittling. He's been carving a DEATH'S HEAD.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - ROOMS AND CORRIDORS - DAY
The house no longer serves any domestic function. It has
become the temple and dormitory of Nix's small apocalyptic
cult. As we go through the house with Butterfield we glimpse
a little of what life here is like.
The rooms are murky, and chaotic. The walls, PAINTED with
scenes of cities and landscapes BURNING, and creatures from
some unspeakable nightmare ATTACKING, RAPING, and DEVOURING
helpless humanity. The atmosphere is joyless, and
The passages become progressively darker as the boy makes his
way to the heart of the house. Only OIL LAMPS, set on the
floor, light these claustrophobic corridors.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - MEDITATION ROOM - DAY
A dozen CULTISTS sit cross-legged on the floor in front of
their leader, WILLIAM NIX. His black hair grows to his
shoulders. His eyes are deep and glittering, his voice
seductive. A terrifying yet charismatic presence.
All the Cultists - who are a cross-section of obsessives -
wear the same simple T-shirts, painted with the cult's SIGIL.
They watch Nix in adoration.
As Nix speaks, he juggles a FLAME, passing it from hand to
hand with casual ease...
And the fire said to me: Nix, Nix,
you're my instrument. From now on,
you'll be called the Puritan...
NIX You will find a few good men and women, and together,
together you will cleanse the world.
Nix looks up.
Nix rises, smiling.
We'll come back to this. Get about
As the Cultists disperse, Nix and Butterfield exit into
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
A place of nightmares. Hanging from the middle of the ceiling
is another grotesque SCULPTURE, three times the bulk of a
large man, and made of metal, fly-blown animal parts and
knotted rope. It is vaguely cruciform, but its swaying,
creaking bulk is not even faintly Christian. It is a
perverse, sickening image, evoking insanity and agony.