Original subtitles

THE HAND OF NIGHT

(Mumbling)

(Mumbling)

(Mumbling)

...

Jump!

Jump! For God's sake, jump! - Wake up!

- We're alright, sir. - I can't control it anymore. Jump! For God's sake!

Wake up, man! Wake up! You're dreaming!

Everything is alright, sir. Really it is.

We've had clear flying all the way from Lisbon

and we'll be in Morocco within 20 minutes.

Now, can I get you something to drink?

Yes, I'd... like a glass of water please.

Of course, sir.

Bad dreams are very disturbing.

I hope I did not hurt you when I was slapping your face.

Slapping my face?

Yes. It was necessary to wake you up.

Mister... what was the name?

- Carver. - Mr. Carver.

I'm incurably interested in my fellow passengers when I'm making a flight.

Particularly when they seem to advise me to jump out of the aircraft at 20,000 feet.

Jump out?

- Is that what I said? Jump out? - Yes.

Yes, it was an incredible dream.

Mixture of the past, present...

...and other things that I don't quite understand.

I seemed to be in a tomb.

Very ancient... Moorish.

As a matter of fact you were there.

I was there?

Yes.

Together with a bearded man I've never seen before.

An Arab, I think.

Have you ever been in Morocco before, Mr. Carver?

No.

I have lived here for many years.

If I can be of any help to you, and you would care to visit my house,

you would be most welcome.

My name is Otto Gunther.

Thank you, Mr. Gunther.

There we are, sir.

Oh, thank you.

Now, can I get you anything else?

A magazine? Something to occupy your mind?

No, thank you.

I've got plenty to occupy my mind.

- Avez-vous quelque chose a déclarer? - No.

Merci, monsieur. C'est tout.

Merci.

Ah, Mr. Carver, there you are.

I thought for a moment I had lost you.

Here is my address.

I hope you will come and see me.

That dream that you had in the plane was very remarkable.

- Otto! - I hope...

- Otto, mon cher! - Chantal, mon cheri!

- Comment vas-tu? - Bien, bien. Et toi?

Tres bien, merci. Ça va bien chez Leclerq?

Taxi?

- Sir? - My name is Carver.

I think Dr. Czerny is expecting me.

But have you not heard?

Dr. Czerny is dead.

Dead?

Yesterday, quite suddenly.

Encore whisky-soda, monsieur?

Encore whisky-soda?

Oui, encore whisky-soda.

You're a very good barman.

Hassan or Sinbad... What is your damned name?

Pardon, monsieur?

Your name...

Votre nom?

Mauret... mais pour l'américain, Matt.

Oui, monsieur.

Yeah, well, Sinbad, do you know what I am?

I'm a harbinger...

I'm a harbinger of death and desolation.

A har... a harbinger is an English word for "he who harbinges".

I lead the Grim Reaper into the field and miss the sweep of his blade.

De la glace, monsieur?

It's all wrong, you know.

As the British would say: "it's not playing the game".

- De la glace, monsieur? - Oui.

Oh yeah.

I wonder if he's in need of an experienced fully paid-up harbinger?

Mr. Carver.

I'm sorry for the delay, but your room is now prepared for you.

- Won't you go up at once? - No, no, no, not now.

I don't suppose you'd happen to know where...

- Rue Eliakim? - Oui.

Oh yes, this is in the old quarter.

It would be most unwise to go there after dark.

Don't you worry. Nothing will happen to me.

It seems nothing can.

Good.

So, you pretend to understand, eh?

You seek the road into the dark

and a thing, an ugly thing like a bat is to be praised

because it comes out of the night.

But you were frightened just then.

As frightened as any infidel.

What do you know about me? Who are you?

I am called Omar.

I know that the creatures of night are of one sort,

and the creatures of day are of another.

I know that a man can misunderstand himself, but surely not forever.

What on earth does all this mean? Tell me who you are?

Tell me who you are?

And what you intend to do?

The night may cover ugliness.

But that doesn't mean it can't conceal great beauty.

The issue is the same from the beginning of the world.

Between light and darkness

each must choose his side.

Omar?

Omar!

- Herr Gunther? - Yes, sir.

My name is Carver. He asked me to drop in when we met earlier today.

Please come in, sir.

- Would you care to sit down, sir? - No, thanks.

Ah, Mr. Carver! What a good surprise!

- I hoped you'd remember my invitation. - Herr Gunther.

That dream of yours, that was amazing.

You dreamt that I was in an ancient tomb together with a bearded Arab.

Perhaps you have guessed already from my trophies

that I am an archaeologist.

And only this morning, when we were on our flight, my colleague Leclerq, who is a bearded Arab,

discovered a new valley of tombs, very close to our present excavations.

It is most exciting. So tonight we really have something to celebrate.

I see.

We did not know the tombs existed. They are of the Bani Marin dynasty.

Princes that ruled here in the XIVth century.

It is my particular form of research.

I mean it's just such an experience, Mr. Lecleve.

To think of me, Alice Perry, finally in a romantic country like Morocco.

Leclerq.

- What? - My name is Leclerq, not Lecleve.

Oh, golly! All these French sounds.

How come you turn out to be French anyhow?

Carelessness.

Ah, gee, I'm sorry.

Well, anyhow, when we first came over I thought I'd learn languages.

But no. The army never leaves my husband in any one place long enough.

At least you have the opportunity to learn English.

Pardon me?

You and your husband.

My interest is more in ancient languages.

Early Arabic, Persian. In my work with Herr Gunther...

And you mean it is just a holiday, Mr. Carver?

I suppose you could call it a holiday.

Just say I wanted to get out of England for a while, and this seemed as good place as any.

And you have no more interest than that in North Africa?

With buildings perhaps. I'm an architect by profession.

Oh, your bearded Arab, by the way.

This is possible that we have just discovered a new tomb...

- It's unbelievable. - Second sight.

You call that something bad, Mr. Carver?

Or a gift to be cultivated, something full of life.

Chantal! Chantal, ma petite!

Let me present to you Mr. Carver from England.

But of course! The one that got away.

- I beg your pardon? - At the airport.

Well, is it not true, Mr. Carver?

Did you not turn and run the moment I made my appearance?

It's what Gunther says.

Please let me get you a drink. Whisky? Gin?

Chantal is my assistant. She has been with me more than a year now.

I don't think I could manage without her.

Otto!

- Otto! - Ja, ja Heinrich.

Excuse me, we talk later.

Yes, Heinrich? What ....

So, Mr. Carver, that drink? What was it, did you say?

- Oh, anything. Whisky? - Fine.

- You take soda? - Yes, please.

Thank you. No damage done, I think.

Your wife and family?

- Oh yes. - Charming.

- You have brought them with you to Morocco? - No.

Then you are a hard father.

There's always summer here.

Think how they would have enjoyed the fun and swimming down on the coast.

No I don't think that's very likely.

- You see, they're dead. - Dead?

Killed in a car accident in England two months ago, all three of them.

Oh yes, yes, quite dead.

I made particularly sure.

Did you kill them?

That's a pretty brutal question to ask, isn't it?

Life's a brutal business.

Belsen, Hiroshima...

They say the good is getting better, but that could mean the bad is getting worse, too.

What on earth makes a girl like you say things like that?

What makes you, Mr. Carver?

Didn't you begin it?

Look, I... just dropped in for a drink.

- If I'm intruding, mademoiselle... - Chantal.

- No, no. I think we should keep it formal if we mean to misunderstand each other.

There is no misunderstanding.

I can spot a half-truth at a hundred metres, that's all.

It is because I've known what it is to live in the shadows myself.

Surely I am only asking the question you are refusing to ask?

Did you kill your wife and children?

I was driving the car.

It was pretty late at night.

We ran into a freak storm of some sort rounding a bend at speed.

I lost control.

The rest isn't very clear.

Either I fell from the car or threw myself clear, I don't know.

I had a few scratches but they died.

I see.

Since then nothing's made much sense.

Today, I arranged to be rid of it all in a way that...

Well, that doesn't matter now.

No, life isn't that simple.

You're stuck on that old merry-go-round till the end of the ride.

That's whether you ask to go to the fair or not.

The truth is you feel dishonest about it.

Neither dead or alive.

Yes.

So you will walk out into the darkness without a light.

You remind me of a poem I once read,

when I was in a similar state of mind.

It said something like:

"To reach out a hand from dying day

is to clutch the hand of night."

Excuse me.

No, but your bone structure is most unusual.

Only to be seen in the drawings and tapestries of earlier times.

Excuse me, I...

Ah, you see it too. The face of Carthage.

I would not be at all surprised to learn that this lady is a direct descendant of the Abbess of Voralia.

I thought abbess was some kind of a nun.

No, no, my dear Madame Perry.

You cannot apply the standards of the American Bible Belt

to something so rich and strange as Coptic Christianity.

Bad luck.

Bit hard for you to have seen that it's an African republic soon.

She'd never have risked it anyway.

No, no, it's just nothing like that, I...

But I thought for a moment it was somebody that...

What's the matter?

What are these things? Scarecrows?

Something like that. Why?

I thought I saw a face from inside. The face of a woman.

Seemed to be that girl again.

But what girl?

When I arrived here this evening I saw a Moroccan girl in traditional dress

coming down the staircase.

I thought the one inside was she for a moment.

Who is this this Moroccan girl, a servant?

But what Moroccan girl?

Ah, Chantal, there you are.

I need your help.

I'm taking everybody to see the collection of our latest finds.

Would you care to join us Mr. Carver?

I don't think so thank you.

The Department of Public Works.

We need their good will to proceed with our plans to open the Bani Marin tombs.

Come, Chantal.

Would you please to follow me everybody?

We're going to look at some of the trophies.

Omar!

What is it? What the hell do you want?

(Arabic)

You.

What was that you said?

Listen to your heart.

Have you a name?

Marisa.

Marisa.

What do you want from me? What does all this mean?

Why are you afraid?

The darkness isn't strange to those who dwell in it.

You're very slow to understand.

Life has only brought you death.

So what should darkness bring you if not light?

Ah, Mr. Carver there you are.

We begged the officials the last hour to flatter and persuade them.

But that gate! But it is never opened.

Who touched it?

Mr. Carver?

Omar!

What are you doing here?

Peace, effendi.

You shall stumble in the shadows no longer.

For now it is permitted you shall learn the secrets of the dark.

I came looking for Marisa.

Be still.

You have come to the Court of the Servants of Night.

So, effendi,

did not old Omar speak the truth

when he told of beauties hidden in the night?

Beauties to make ugliness and fear a memory?

So now you may rest in the middle.

Rest, rest, effendi!

Why have you brought me here?

How do you know so much about me?

Alright, it's true, lately life doesn't seem to mean a lot.

What's this got to do with you? Are you going to change it?

When you wanted life, what was it you wanted of life?

I don't know.

What anyone wants, I suppose.

What I lost: love.

Well, I can give you a love to take its place.

A love beyond living or the desire of dying.

The love of the Servants of Night.

Gunther?

Look, over there.

It's Mr. Carver!

Quick, we must get him out of the sun.

Bien! C'est tres bien!

Now we must wait for Herr Gunther.

Ali.

This is how I imagine we will find things when we enter the tomb.

It is the usual pattern for the period.

When we enter, only two men must come in at first. You understand.

They must touch nothing. They must be especially careful of the inscriptions.

They must be in perfect condition for me to decypher them.

No.

You are lucky, Carver. Much longer in that sun and...

Well...

I hope you appreciate it is a fantastic story.

It is an impossible story.

A Moroccan girl whose name was... What did you say?

Marisa.

Marisa.

And you met her at my house

and it was she who led you to the old palace.

Yes, I must admit in the cold light of day it does have all the earmarks of a crazy dream.

A drunken dream.

What?

Perhaps you had too much to drink last night.

You had been drinking before you came to Gunther's, hadn't you?

Only my usual gallon of methylated spirits. I'm much better since I took the cure, you know.

Then it was the odd night. Change of climate for you.

You were in a very strange mood when I was talking to you.

All that nonsense about neither living or dying.

Nobody can honestly feel like that.

It's unnatural and stupid.

I was not aware there was a Moroccan girl called Marisa at my house last night.

Cannot you remember how you actually came to the old palace?

Well...

But nobody has lived in that old palace for years.

Why, even the Gypsies don't stop there anymore.

- Gypsies? - Yes, the Romany trains.

It was a stopping place on the ancient road to Spain,

but not anymore.

The walls are falling in there.

Come back with me now, and I will show you how ridiculous it is.

Chantal!

Why? He's quite well enough, isn't he?

But we are opening the Bani Marin tombs today,

in about half an hour.

I felt sure you would want to be there.

Surely the sacrifice can do without me for one day, Gunther.

Somebody owes it to Mr. Carver here to save him from his death wish.

- I think... - Well, five minutes to clean up then?

Or would that be considered preparing the body for burial?

Otto...

- Hold the torch, Otto. - Ja.

How old is this place?

No one's completely sure.

Obviously the place would have started to fall down about the time rule was centralised

and individual princes stopped keeping up large private courts.

It would have been built some time early in the Bani Marin dynasty, I suppose.

You mean this place is the same period as your tombs back at the camp?

Oh yes.

I'm sorry, but you see there is nothing.

Nothing.

It must have been a dream.

Look, I stood right here last night and I saw dancing girls.

There were other people here too.

Servants of the Night, Omar called them.

Omar?

Just some old Arab you'll probably tell me doesn't exist either.

What's your name?

I can't go on calling you Mr. Carver.

Paul.

Did you love your wife, Paul?

What did you say?

You go on about it as if it were a Greek tragedy, she died and you didn't.

So I can only conclude she meant something... well, quite out of the ordinary to you.

Isn't it about time you left me to my ruin?

I have drunken fantasies and I don't want to be saved from the consequences of my galloping death wish.

Haven't you thought what cowardice it is to turn in on yourself?

Just because your life seems have gone a little wrong?

A little wrong?

It isn't very resourceful.

What would you know about it?

You are misguided.

You aren't the first person in the world to suffer from this.

Look, what the hell would you know about it, Chantal?

Yeah, I loved my wife.

You can't begin to conceive what it was really like.

We weren't just...

two people, she and I.

It was different than that.

The children...

So, I should have died with them.

Meaningless, my being here alive with them dead...

I'm a fraud who can't even throw his life away and do it properly.

All I can do is destroy people.

I'm beyond the pale because I've cheated death.

What is all this you keep saying about throwing your life away?

Listen,

all I wanted to tell you before was that...

you aren't the first in the world who suffered from the death of love.

I too.

Oh, yes.

I'm not going to go on about that.

I'm not even going to tell you what happened.

I'm just not going to die in my heart because it did happen.

I'll find another love.

A better one, even,

full of warmth and joy,

and life.

Perhaps you don't deserve any better than your crazy dreams.

Perhaps all this decay and falling to ruin is all that can remain for a living man,

who hasn't the sense to turn away from death.

I'm sorry.

We had better be getting back.

- Are you coming? - Not just yet.

I still have to look around.

I'll pick you up at lunchtime.

Well, could someone else have taken it?

Could someone else have removed it from your house last night?

My dear fellow, how should I know?

Obviously you put it on your finger and this morning you dropped it.

We dug it out of the site 3 months ago. It is a talisman.

A talisman?

The stone is so cut as to make light flare from the center.

To turn away the evil spirits.

They are repelled by shafts of light.

What is the matter?

Nothing, it's just all so confusing.

Look, I had that ring at the palace last night.

Chantal tells me you had words this morning. Is that so?

Words? What the devil does 'words' mean?

I never heard such a splendidly Victorian expression in all my life.

Anyway, what's it got to do with you?

What concerns Chantal, concerns me also.

Yes.

Now there's a topic for conversation.

As a matter of fact, I wondered about the relationship.

There's no blood tie, is there?

Carver, I must tell you

I don't like this business that you are involved in.

Business?

Yes.

Marisa, the palace...

And so far, everyone considers it nothing more than a crazy dream.

I know. That is so.

Do you know anything about the ancient philosophy of this land?

No.

It came from Persia many hundreds of years ago.

The belief that reality was divided into two eternally opposing principles;

the light and the dark.

The light was for purity, progress.

The darkness was for sin, despair, decay.

The darkness fights always with the light.

And sometimes the darkness can prevail.

So?

I believe your second sight was of the light.

Sent perhaps as a warning.

But what is happening now is of the darkness.

Very well.

Well, I'll admit to you this much.

I can't make up my mind what Marisa might be.

If she should be real.

What were you saying?

She could even be a vampire.

A what?

A vampire.

You mean, one of those things with fangs, in the...

bloodstained shirt front out of a Bavarian schloss?

That is a naive way of thinking of a vampire.

This notion is altogether less precise, more ethereal.

Like a wing on the night, perhaps,

enticing people rather than feeding on them.

Servants of the Night.

You believe all this?

Do you?

Oh,

my relationship with Chantal.

We are very close.

There was a young man in France some time ago she loved very deeply.

He was killed in military service.

So I persuaded her to come and live with me, as my daughter.

He was my son.

Marisa?

Marisa!

Do you see?

Do you see what we must do to those who treat us with contempt?

A band of gypsies, who came to this house a long time ago.

They thought they could be stronger than the Servants of the Night.

Would you be like them?

The choice is still as I told you in the beginning,

between light and darkness.

Each must choose.

Love...

Love of the Servants of the Night.

There is not the medieval syntax as I'd hoped.

No classic structure either.

Ready.

Oh, yes, go ahead,

But let me have a print as soon as possible.

Otto!

I must go down to the coast for a couple of days, if you don't mind.

I need some more information about those strange forms.

But I wanted to open the tomb today!

Why?

The occupant is hardly likely to be moving.

Until I have deciphered the inscription we may be making a mistake in the opening.

That is nonsense.

The burial procedure for this period was always exactly the same.

- No deviations of any kind. - Except in the case of members of the dynasty itself.

And here, unless I'm much mistaken, we have the grave of a Princess,

a notable member of the royal hareem.

Otto,

what's the trouble?

It's not like you to go against me over something like this.

Does it honestly matter?

I'm sorry, Leclerq, I'm feeling uneasy today.

But why was the entrance bricked up when you found it?

Isn't this unusual?

A landslide could have caused the trouble. Just as easily.

But it is too remarkable.

The people of the Bani Marin era

had great respect for the spirits of the dead.

They allowed them the freedom to wander the night.

In this instance it is almost as if somebody wanted to trap the spirit in the tomb.

Look, I will only be gone a couple of days, I promise you.

And you can't really mind.

- No, I'm sorry Leclerq again. - I will make the arrangements at once.

Oh, Chantal, is it so bad?

Be fair. You have only known the poor fellow a short time.

Have you a right to be so serious so soon?

It's not in the least serious. Please, don't be silly.

He just upsets me.

He won't stay away from that old palace.

Palace?

He still goes there.

It has wretched effect on him.

It's as if all those old stones and pillars actually triggered off his fantastic dreams.

You are convinced they are dreams then?

What else?

Gunther, no one could believe his crazy stories.

If I felt as you do and he was the victim of his delusions

I would want to get him away from here.

- But how? He would never go. - Yes, that is a problem, I suppose.

But think of it: a few days by the sea,

a little holiday away from all the desolation and decay.

It would do you good too.

But how would I make him go?

That's not for me to say, but I suppose if all else failed you could kidnap him.

- What are you trying to do, kidnap me? - Yes.

- But why? - Oh, don't worry, you'll be alright.

I went to the hotel and collected your belongings.

And I promise not to touch your virtue,

at least on even days.

And where're we going?

Wait and see.

If I told you, you might lose interest.

Look, Chantal, I can't go away.

Hello.

Well, I suppose I should say I'm sorry.

What for?

No, no. If there is anything wrong. It is my fault.

You did not want to come here.

No, no, no. I didn't mean about that. I meant...

I'm not being the sort of a person you had a right to expect.

You have the right to a great deal then.

You see, Chantal, you're...

you're very human, you're very warm.

With me it's different.

I suppose what happened to Diane and the kids was only necessary to show me where I'd always stood.

I didn't know the part of the countryside.

Some sort of...

black forest.

But how can you say a thing like that?

What is there for people in this world if it isn't life?

There is no choice between things like life and death?

Or between light and darkness, then.

You were the first one that tell me that I might have been touched by the hand of night, remember?

You see,

Chantal, you say you want love again.

To be better than the love you lost and you'll find it.

For me love is already a contradiction.

Warmth is only a coldness.

Marisa.

Then you are saying that this is the love with Marisa.

And you want it.

For whatever it all is, you've got to break with this.

For good.

I don't believe she really exists.

She cannot.

Love is never evil.

Darkness isn't real.

It's only where the light has not reached.

Why do you think I brought you here anyway?

To convince you of all that should have been left to die in that dead palace?

Alright, I want love.

I need it.

But it is you I am thinking about first.

Marisa isn't here.

And she cannot find us.

She can never find us again, Paul.

If you will only close your mind to her.

Your mind and your heart.

Well, I'll buy us some of that leather this place is famous for.

Oh, look, Paul, satchels!

Come.

- How much? - Twenty dirham.

Ask ten.

Ask ten.

- Ten? - Fifteen.

Show me that tapestry there.

- Why, Mr. Carver. - Hi.

Leclerq.

What a day of coincidence.

I have already by chance encountered the redoubtable Madame Perry.

Now a resident of this fair city.

George got transferred again.

I mean it's kind of hard. I start to make friends and then on we go,

and I have to start...

Omar?

- Paul! - Chantal! But this is impossible!

What is this? Old home week, perhaps?

Look, what goes on here?

For goodness sake, Mr. Leclerq. What do we do?

In such extraordinary circumstances, madame,

there is only one thing to do.

En avant!

But I can't!

Paul, what happened?

Go back to the hotel, Chantal. There's something I got to settle once and for all.

- But wait! - Go back to the hotel!

Flown.

It is necessary to pursue further?

- Oh, yes. - Have no fear. I have detained a taxi.

Vite, Chantal.

It is history repeating itself! Rout of the Moors...

Who the devil are you?

My wallet.

Who the devil are you?

Well, answer me! What's your name?

Where did you get these clothes?

Paul!

We thought we had lost you. What on earth was it all about?

- He stole my wallet. - And you went after him like that?

A theft. I suspected it was something of the sort.

We must get the police!

- Venez ici! - No, no, no. Let him go.

I didn't even know he'd stolen my wallet.

I even thought it was someone else.

Someone called Omar.

- Omar? But that is the one who... - Yes.

The one who led me to Marisa.

Oh, you're going to say that I'm dreaming again.

Or perhaps coming out of a dream, eh?

Marisa?

But what should you know of the Princess Marisa, Mr. Carver?

Why, just today I was able to translate one of the inscriptions

from the tomb that was baffling me.

By coincidence it turns out to be an old form of the inscription

used by the carpet weavers in this country.

But my inscription bears the lady's name.

Oh, what do you mean?

Here, have you not seen?

It is an extremely celebrated design.

It is of an early medieval princess,

who was the favourite of her hareem

until she was proved unfaithful and entombed alive by her jealous husband.

From the tomb, before she died, she plotted her husband's death.

A faithful servant was to strangle him while he slept.

But alas, the servant was caught and buried alive

before he could execute his design.

With her last breath Marisa swore revenge upon the whole race of men.

Hence the inscription:

"Here lies one who does not sleep

but walks the night of death

to make all mankind her slave.

The Princess Marisa."

A vampire? A vampire?

It is an explanation.

I've had a telephone call from Leclerq to tell me that the tomb that we have uncovered

is undoubtedly that of Marisa. Consequently...

But you are talking like an idiot, Gunther!

There is no such thing as a vampire! It doesn't exist!

Something exists for Carver.

And I'm afraid something is beginning to exist for you too,

unless I am very much mistaken.

Shall we go to the tomb now, before Leclerq gets back,

and take off the lid

and prove to ourselves that it is all nonsense and superstition.

- Where is Carver? - I don't know.

I thought I might find him here. He ran away from me.

Chantal.

Beings of darkness, creatures that shake away from the light...

Who knows what the truth really is?

We found this medallion in the entrance to the tomb.

It is a Romany charm.

So it was the gypsies that sealed the place up.

As a result of whatever it was, that drove them from the old palace.

And it has remain sealed ever since.

But why are they all going?

Take her.

Sacrifice her to the Sun!

Take her!

All I am asking is does your research show any history of vampirism in the area?

I shall want all the evidence I can get if I am going to convince Mr. Carver.

No, I don't know where he is.

Chantal made her way back here without him.

And now I'm afraid she has gone to the tombs.

My dear fellow, it is no longer a question of scepticism and faith.

There is now danger.

I'm waiting for Ali to bring the jeep, so that I can follow Chantal.

Yes.

I don't understand it, but I'm safe from you while I have this.

What have you done with her?

- Done with who? - Chantal. I know she came here.

I know of no such girl.

Marisa,

this is between us two, you and I.

No matter what it comes to in the end.

Whether you actually exist there before my eyes

or whether you're something in my mind,

none of this concerns Chantal.

We must leave her alone.

Do you believe I'm a vampire then?

To be destroyed in the sleep of day like that girl thought?

Who, Chantal?

Can such a creature exist?

It's a legend, isn't it?

Superstition...

You know very little.

Not even what's true and false about yourself.

And what have you done with her?

Come on, answer me!

Omar has taken her far out into the desert.

When the morning comes, and the Sun rises,

she will be all alone. Far from shelter.

Wait!

- Do you love that girl? - I can't let you kill her.

But you could never love me?

There was never love between us, Marisa.

For a time I was captivated by the darkness in you, that's all.

Now I want to live again. I've made up my mind.

- You've chosen light? - Yes.

Have you?

Then do the work that others couldn't do for you.

Whatever I am, whatever I mean, I'm the enemy of everything you stand for.

So destroy me.

You must. They cannot survive together, the darkness and the light.

Destroy me.

You see?

You do not understand yourself very well at all.

In your heart of hearts you remain darkness, as I am.

No. Leave him.

Nothing is to be done with him. Nothing!

Carver! Carver! Are you in here?

For goodness sake. What happened?

Oh, I don't know.

I have been looking for you everywhere. Something has happened to Chantal.

Omar has taken her into the desert.

She is to be left in the sun and vultures.

- What? - What time is it?

3 o'clock.

- What, in the morning? - Yes.

We don't even know which way they went. Come on!

What has been going on here?

Have we got enough petrol? We have to go straight to the desert.

Yes. We take the logical route. I've got a spare can in the back.

- Look, what's that? - No, that is nothing.

Could they have got this far? Should we go back?

No, no, no. Marisa said 'far into the desert'.

- Look, what's that? - Yes, that could be them!

I'll go up this way. You go round the other side and head them off.

Yes, alright.

Chantal!

Over there.

Are you alright?

It's the light.

It'll soon be light.

- See to Chantal. - Yes.

- Look there, you see? - Why do you trouble with him?

Let's get Chantal home.

He damn near killed Chantal, and me.

How long do you say it is to the tombs now? About a half an hour?

Yes, about.

Wait.

Do you think it's all done with so easily?

Just a blow, and that's the end?

Don't you believe me yet that we're the same, you and I?

If you strike at me now you strike at yourself.

No turning back.

The decision was made long ago.

You abandoned your life and so you found me.

Now you're mine!

You fool. You're lost. You're lost.

No turning back.

It won't help.

You're doing it for that girl because of love she offered you.

But my love has already claimed you.

Even now you're what you wanted to be:

one of the dead.

No! Let me go!

Please, Otto, let me get in!

I got to help him!

Let me go!

Paul, what happened?

(Mumbling)

(Mumbling)

(Mumbling)

What is it?

What's happened?

He used to say always that he had cheated death.

I think perhaps after all it is death that has cheated him.

subtitles: Orion1, bareheaded, Don Medina and MARK