Original subtitles

Beat it, buddy, I'm closed, you know?

Closed?

- Tomorrow, okay? I'm closed! - No, please.

What now?

Lord!

What do you want?

I... I gotta show you.

No monkey business, now.

You forget somebody's birthday?

The mirror's $300, young fella.

I want it delivered to my apartment.

Tomorrow afternoon is the best I can do.

What's the address?

The address, where do you live?

Wherever it is, kid, you better go there.

Paul Varney.

Boniface Towers, Apartment 82.

You sure?

Yes.

I'm sure.

- Mr. Donovan. - Yes, Myles Donovan.

- Come in. - Thank you.

- I'm Barbara Anholt. - Very glad to know you.

Paul will be delayed just a few minutes.

In the meantime, I am to be your local geisha.

Would you like sake, milk, or a martini?

Martini, please.

Fine, 'cause that exactly what you're gonna get.

You're very nice to watch.

Thank you!

I get my practice on an airline.

- Stewardess? - Yes.

And you're a physicist.

That's right, I work with Paul.

- Do you enjoy it? - Yes, he's a very gifted man.

I meant being a physicist.

Oh, well, it fills the days.

Well, mine are interminable.

How do you get through three weeks waiting for your wedding day?

- Making love. - That sounds like a very good idea!

- Cheers. - Cheers.

Oh, gad, it's my fiancé!

- Quick, hide in the closet! - Too late, he's nailed!

- How are you, Myles? - I'm dazzled!

- Yeah. - Hi, darling.

Can I ask you something very personal?

- Not if it's about my mother. - No, no, I said "personal,” not "impossible."

What are we going to do with that freaky mirror?

- Oh. - Oh.

Oh, Lord.

Yeah, um... last night?

- Last night. - Yeah.

I really must've been loaded.

What exactly where you up to last night?

Well, I worked late at the lab and...

I guess some of us went out for a drink.

Were you in on that little orgy?

No, I left work at six. It sounds highly suspicious to me.

The engagement is off.

Take your martini and get out.

I don't have to, I live here!

And occasionally in sin.

Would you please explain this man to me?

No, not until I've had my shower.

He's in love with mirrors.

I hope you heard that!

Baloney! You can ask the psychiatrist.

- What psychiatrist? - The one whose party I'm taking you to.

Oh.

Can I freshen your drink?

Yeah, thank you.

In the name of all the smoldering legions of hell,

I call upon the devil's emissary.

The demons Bael and Forcas.

Demon Marchosias, Buer, Astaroth, Behemoth,

Asmodeus, and Theutus.

All these summon hot upon this hour to do battle

with a pack of commonsensical infidels who never know when to go home

and drink up all my booze and sit around insulting the host.

Have I insulted my host?

You will, darling, if you say you haven't.

Well, in that case, I think I'll have another ginger ale.

And you forgot Rakashi.

- What? - I say, you didn't include Rakashi

in your roll call of demons.

Should I have?

You're the expert.

Oh, come on, David.

You're not really hung up on all this occult malarkey, are ya?

- Right, I'm not hung up. - But other people are.

Enter David Sorell, doctor to the bedeviled.

Psychiatrist, M.D., PhD, mumbo jumbo.

And ooky-spooky, D.I., Doctor of the Inconceivable.

Despite your amusing definitions, Myles, he's still a psychiatrist,

a profession which concerns itself, at least so I'm led to believe,

with all conditions of the human soul.

- Or inhuman? - Leading question, inadmissible.

Sometimes I think he really believes the unbelievable.

I know when it started, four years ago, right after the Soletski case.

Ooh, let's hear about the Soletski case.

Sorry, confidential information, restricted to the trade.

Well, I'll tell about it.

Seems there was this middle-aged chemist named Soletski, and he imagined himself...

Myles. Don't.

- Why not? - I mean that.

All right, Master.

I beg your occult forgiveness.

All right, let's forgo poor Mr. Soletski.

In all your expertise, David, if someone in this room

were beset by a devil, how would you know?

I wouldn't unless your devil chose to reveal himself.

In that case, I expect we'd all know.

You know, I think I smell one spreading sulfur on the air,

encased or something in an aura of purple lights,

and he is there, Paul Varney!

Paul, give us a sign of evil incarnate.

Don't be a fool, Myles.

Myles, while you're at it, why don't you try and find out where he really was last night

and why he bought that crazy mirror?

To snatch your soul and carry it to hell, what do you think?

All right.

Since you're all so anxious for a demonstration of the black arts,

the supernatural, horror twittering at the bed sheets,

it'll be my pleasure to oblige with this and this.

I have never opened it.

This carving here, the form of a West African god or spirit, spirit is better.

It's name is the seven words of agony.

Certain tribes worshipped it, feared it.

Inside, I've been told, is the spirit of pain, the essence of pain.

Three men who have owned this thing opened it and died

shrieking in anguish, that's a fact.

I don't pretend to understand it, but I've taken the trouble to authenticate it.

Now any of you who wants to can discover what's inside.

Open it.

No curiosity?

No thirst for experience?

All right.

By a few illogical words, you allow yourselves to be quite terrified.

So much for superstition.

And the limits to which you are prepared to believe the unbelievable,

- no matter how incredible. - Bravo!

Here I thought we were being offered some genuine super duper miracle!

I think our host can produce one for you.

If you like, I believe I have a miracle available for you.

Morning.

A new day out of darkness.

Now, who wants some scrambled eggs?

Come on, kid, that's our cue for the kitchen.

Paul?

This name you pulled out of the air, Rakashi,

I was wondering where it came from.

As you said, out of the air, I made it up.

- Are you testing me? - Oh, I wouldn't presume to do that.

Hey! Barb, let's go, come on.

- Gotta move. - Oh, oh, oh, yes.

- Make yourself decent. - Yes, sir!

Here you go.

Thank you.

What is this, a costume party?

Parked down there, ladies and gentlemen, is an authentic Stanley Steamer,

which is the kind of reality I like to deal with.

Poor dear has a rally with some other car nuts out at Humberside.

Doctor, you are a gas.

- I'm also David. - Oh, goodbye, David!

Goodbye, all.

Thanks for the entertainment, Doctor.

- I hope we meet again. - We will.

- Good night. - Good night.

Good morning!

What a weird evening.

- Well, you're a weird girl. - Oh, yeah?

And I shall love you for all of the time there is.

You know, Myles' friend, David,

I think he really does believe in things that go whoomp in the night.

- He didn't say that. - Well, he didn't have to.

What kind of a psychiatrist is he supposed to be, anyway?

Paul?

Is something wrong?

Yeah, what's wrong is I'm sick of hearing of David Sorell.

Let's forget it, do you mind?

Well, no, I don't mind.

Paul!

Dr. Sorell!

How are you feeling?

Just splendid, thank you.

Forgive me, people ask silly things like that in hospital.

I am sound in wind and limb, and only mildly depressed, so I'm told.

I've wanted to tell you how sorry I am.

- That's very kind. - You and Paul were in my apartment

a few hours before the accident.

I feel involved, I suppose, as if I might have held him there longer

or let him go earlier.

Is there anything I can do?

Yes, there is something.

You can explain to me, David, why some people die and others don't.

You can tell me the profound meanings behind an accident

that changed a good life into death.

Admit me to the mysteries.

All I want to know is what it's all about.

Why don't you drop by my office when you're feeling up to it?

May I?

Thank you very much for stopping by, Dr. Sorell.

Not at all.

Are you Barbara's physician?

No, just a friend.

Dr. Sorell, Mrs. Varney, Paul's mother.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Varney.

Thank you, Doctor.

We'll be talking. Goodbye.

Are you well enough to speak?

Oh, yes, I'm fine.

There's nothing wrong with me.

I think there are some things to be said.

Yes.

And I'm sure you'll say them beautifully.

You don't know how much I loved my son.

You don't know how much I loved him.

Then we've both lost too much to remain enemies.

I was never your enemy, Mrs. Varney.

But I was yours.

Why?

Because I was a prideful, clutching old woman

who thought you were insufficient for my son.

You mean not rich.

Common and vulgar.

Will you forgive that?

Yes.

Come and stay with me, Barbara.

I can't be alone!

It's all right.

It's all right!

It's all right!

Barbara?

Are you quite comfortable?

Yes, thank you.

I was just getting ready for bed.

Rest well, my dear, as well as we can.

This was Paul's.

Yes. Yes, I had his things brought home.

He never even knew why he bought it.

Well, he was in love, you see.

How can anyone blame him for being distracted?

Good night, Barbara.

I heard a sound, a whistling like the old car.

Your tea, Barbara.

I saw Paul.

What?

In the mirror.

He was... he was calling me.

My son is dead, Barbara.

Paul is in his grave.

You know that better than anyone.

- I'm afraid I've... - Please, leave it.

So it must've been a dream.

Mustn't it?

Yes.

Yes, of course, it was a dream.

Trying to explain the unexplainable is a parlor game.

By definition, it's an exercise in futility.

The challenge, the real challenge is to crack the riddle of what can be explained,

even though the explanation lies beyond the bounds

of what we call normal experience, reason, logic.

And then we find ourselves face to face with a whole bag of tricks.

ESP, psychokinesis, for knowledge, ghost phenomena, possession.

All those things that simply can't be could be, might be, sometimes are

no matter how much that jolts our comfortable, common sense universe.

See, mine was jolted.

A few years ago, the Soletski case.

Still these occurrences are very rare.

They usually have more conventional explanations.

Do you have one?

I think there's every possibility I'm losing my mind.

Well, that's a reasonable reason to visit a psychiatrist.

But you speak of the reappearance of the dead.

Considering my special interest, coming to me could add a certain luster

to what we might call your erotic fantasies.

Is that what you think they are?

Fantasies?

Shall I tell you of the convictions my patients bring to this room?

One is convinced that his own hand is his enemy.

Another that he will surely die if his wristwatch stops running.

They weren't fantasies, David.

How many of these episodes have you had?

Four.

Always the same?

The whistling sound, lovemaking in the mirror?

And blood.

And weakness, as though I've been ill for a very long time.

I'm going to ask you a question.

Answer as honestly as you can.

Do you want these experiences to stop?

No.

Why not?

Because I love him.

And the man you loved is dead.

Not for me.

Not... not when these things happen.

Do you want to go to him, Barbara?

Do you want to be with Paul?

- I don't know. - All right.

Well, now you hold on to that, you don't know,

because there's only one way to be with him, isn't there, Barbara?

Isn't there?

What must you do?

Die.

Do you want to die?

No.

All right, listen to me.

Tonight, I want you to cover the mirror.

Leave it just where it is, but covered.

Try to sleep through the night.

Whatever happens, don't remove the cover.

And I'll see you tomorrow.

- Same time, same place? - No, I'll come and visit you.

Do you believe me, David?

There are three possibilities.

You are hallucinating, you are faking,

or you're reporting exactly what happened.

In any case, I believe you.

- Thank you. - Good.

You've done very well.

- Goodbye. - Bye-bye.

Myles Donovan, please.

Are you familiar with laser beams, David?

They're kind of jewellike.

I've never seen one before, it's beautiful.

Go on, be impressed.

It's light born in the hearts of rubies and emeralds.

Poetry in the laboratory.

It is a fact, though.

Now, Master, what can I do for you?

Did you know Paul Varney before he came to work at Interspace?

No, I met him here.

Right here in this laboratory, in fact.

- Three months ago. - But you became friends.

I mean, not just colleagues.

Sure.

We worked very closely.

I became very fond of him.

Did he have any special interests?

Yeah.

Antique cars, unfortunately.

No fascination with the occult, black magic?

No, I'm afraid not, David, no, nothing like that.

You're unique in that department.

No.

Paul Varney was a scientist.

He wanted to understand the world as it really is.

What are you trying to do, resurrect the dead?

You're a fortunate man, Myles.

Unlike laser beams, the human soul isn't accountable to mathematics.

What is all this about Paul?

No, it's the girl, Barbara, I'm concerned with.

She's been having some emotional difficulties.

Well, she's entitled, isn't she?

Yes, she's entitled.

Dr. Sorell?

Yes?

- I'm Mrs. Varney. - Yes, I remember.

Won't you come in?

I'm afraid Barbara hasn't joined us today.

Or even eaten, for that matter.

She's quite exhausted, you know, by these odd dreams.

If they are dreams.

Are you suggesting, Mrs. Varney, that your son actually comes to her?

I quite understand the quality of death, Doctor.

But you're a psychiatrist, aren't you?

And if they're not dreams, well, then they must be hallucinations.

In which case?

In which case, one hopes that time and love will heal her wound.

I've been sleeping so deeply,

it's like climbing out of a well to get out.

Today, it was all I could do just to get to the top.

How do you feel now, Barbara?

Tired. Weak.

Funny. Not very funny.

Covering the mirror didn't work, did it?

I tried.

I wanted him.

What was it like?

Like dying of thirst,

and then a waterfall.

Were you afraid?

Why should I be?

Oh, God, what is wrong with me?

Maybe something we'll cure.

Maybe nothing at all.

We're going to find out, Barbara.

You're going to sleep again.

Do you mind?

I'd rather talk to you.

Do both.

Just relax.

Let yourself float.

Barbara.

Barbara, do you hear me?

Yes, David.

It is not David.

It's Paul.

Paul's dead.

You're sleeping now.

You can dream that I'm alive in the mirror.

- Paul. - Barbara.

You know it's only a fantasy, our speaking like this?

- No. - It's what you wish would happen.

- No. - That I could come to this room

through our mirror.

Oh, Paul.

I'm afraid.

Because you lied?

To yourself?

My mother?

Dr. Sorell?

Paul, you know I haven't lied.

They don't know.

But I am dead.

You know that, Barbara.

I am dead.

Hold me, please.

Please hold me.

We'll be together very soon.

You'll see.

- Barbara. - Paul.

Barbara.

This is David now.

David Sorell.

Where's Paul?

Paul is gone.

The mirror?

The mirror is gone, too.

No. No, please!

- Please. - Barbara.

- Help me, he needs me. - All right, Barbara, it's all right.

Paul is there.

Paul is there, sleeping in the mirror.

The mirror is back again.

We'll let you keep the mirror for a while

until we learn a little more.

My wedding day.

Yes, it's your wedding day.

But whom will you marry?

What will happen on your wedding day?

I'll be with Paul.

Are you telling me that you're going to die?

Rest now.

Listen to me.

This... this image that you see in the glass is not Paul.

In the end, you will accept that.

What it is, truly is, is nothing you can understand yet, nor I.

I believe it is a kind of a trick to take you away from life.

And until I know what it is, you must fight to keep your life, Barbara, hold it close.

Don't let the thing in the mirror steal it from you.

I don't wanna die.

Good.

Sleep as long as you want.

You'll feel better when you wake up.

You want to get out of this room.

Take a walk, feel the sun.

Yes, I've got it here.

Mirror, young fellow about midnight.

Paul Varney, Boniface Towers.

Thank you.

Are you in the habit of receiving customers at midnight?

I was doing my books, nobody invited him.

Tell you the truth, I don't think he knew himself what he was looking for,

till he found the mirror.

Did he look at any others?

The one he bought, that's it.

Who knows?

He was high on something, you know what I mean?

No, no, I don't.

High, coke, weird.

But he was sure high on something.

Could he have been drunk?

Nah, not like drunk.

I smell drunk, I wouldn't let him in the shop.

Tell me, Mr. Wyant...

where did the mirror come from?

That particular piece of merchandise?

I don't know, 18th century, maybe?

It was here when I bought the shop from old man Sacheim.

Where could I reach Mr. Sacheim?

You can't. He up and died eight years ago.

- Dr. Sorell? - Yes?

My name is Barnett.

I took care of Mr. Varney's secretarial work.

I have his desk calendar.

I'm interested in Thursday the eighth,

two days before his death.

He had several appointments.

In the evening.

Eight o'clock.

The Metaphysical Research Center.

What's a Metaphysical Research Center?

I'm sure I don't know.

He never mentioned it before.

The entry is in Mr. Varney's own handwriting.

There's an address.

May I have this page?

If you like.

Thank you very much. Bye.

May I ask what they mean?

We're working up what happened during the first seven seconds

after the creation of the cosmos.

- Really? - Come back sometime.

We'll teach you the mysteries of the universe.

Yes, that is something I would like very much to understand.

Thank you.

If then indeed the lost world of Atlantis once existed,

an idea that we no longer doubt,

then portions of his writings must inevitably have found their way to the...

Come in, sir, come in, you're most welcome to join us.

Sorry, wrong room.

The mystical, my friends,

whose labyrinthine study we should commence

a week from tonight.

For the balance of our evening, let us...

And so recently have come to light in the Holy Land.

At the very least,

new vistas open upon the origins of monotheism

and the revolutionary theology of the Pharaoh Akhenaten.

How indeed did the unique concept of a singular deity enter, however briefly,

upon the richly pantheistic religious life of Ancient Egypt?

Are we to assume some sunburst flash of insight?

A vision, rimmed in epileptic light

and visited upon the stricken Akhenaten himself?

Or may we argue exposure of Akhenaten and his followers

to the surviving writings of the Atlantean priests?

Let us attempt to trace the chain of evidence.

Elements of our analysis are to be discovered

in Sigmund Freud's illuminating monograph Moses and Monotheism,

for here the author makes the case that the man known as Moses,

far from being a member of the sect of Jewish slaves,

was himself a priestly prince, a patrician Egyptian follower...

- What are doing here? -...of the new Akhenaten theology.

Who are you?

My name is Sorell.

I'm Ingrid Dorne.

Dr. Sorell.

I was looking for someone in charge.

I found my way in here, the voice fooled me.

I see.

How can I help you?

A patient of mine named Paul Varney

was a visitor here on at least one occasion.

I'm trying to find out why.

Why don't you ask your patient?

He's dead.

...new Akhenaten theology.

You're a psychiatrist.

Yes, I am preparing a special study on the case.

...the case is made that this leader, this Moses...

Varney.

...led to the desert.

The name isn't familiar.

I'm afraid I can be of very little help, Doctor.

You see, the Metaphysical Research Center

merely provides meeting and reading facilities for study groups,

mostly of a metaphysical or religious nature.

We have several of these.

This man, your Mr. Varney,

do you know which group he was associated with?

I hoped you could help me with that.

He was here three weeks ago on the night of September eighth.

The eighth?

Then all we have to do is to consult our journal.

The eighth.

Oi, I think you must have made a mistake, Doctor.

There are no meetings at all scheduled for the evening hours.

This is our reservation journal.

Perhaps I was mistaken.

- May I? - Of course.

Our various groups, the Academy of Mysticism,

the Atlantis Federation, the Pyramid Circle.

Maybe something will be familiar.

No, no, nothing.

Any meeting here would have to be entered in a journal,

- is that correct? - That is correct.

Mrs. Varney!

Mrs. Varney!

Mrs. Varney!

Hello?

Mrs. Varney!

Mrs. Varney!

Hello?

Anybody there?

Hello?

Hello?

Anybody there?

What is it, Barbara?

What are you doing here?

I thought you were in bed.

I've been so troubled.

I took a sleeping pill.

I was dreaming about Paul.

Well, that must have been you at the door.

Oh, come along now.

A perfectly dreadful night.

Rakashi, Lord of Light.

Lord of Light.

Rakashi, Lord of Lust.

Lord of Blood.

- Touch the point. - Touch the point.

- See your sign. - See your sign.

Paul Varney, what do you see?

I see the jeweled light.

Rakashi's light!

Look at us.

Look at him, his eyes.

Look at this eyes.

Paul, look now at the design upon the table.

Touch the North Point of the design.

Paul Varney, you are the Chalice of the Flesh.

Your will is open.

You are abandoned.

Touch the South Point.

No! Please!

Touch the Point of Light!

Oh, Lord of Fire, Lord of Lust, Lord of Blood.

Come to us now out of light, out of fire.

Touch the point, touch the point.

Look at him, look at him!

Again?

No, enough.

Charming.

That was Ingrid Dorne's voice at the end.

She lied about the journal.

She was faking it.

Do we believe in demons, David?

Right now what I believe in is in my learned teacher,

Harry Snowden, Prince of Darkness.

Oh, thank you. Prince of Darkness, eh?

What an odd study we've taken on ourselves.

Well, my own studies do not extend to the demon Rakashi.

Yeah, neither do mine, beyond the rudimentary knowledge.

Lord of Light, Lust, and Blood?

He was, I think, a demon of the passion pantheon.

The Book of the Dead refers to him.

I've seen some woodcuts somewhere and some ninth century church writings,

something to do with glass and mirrors, perhaps, symbol of light.

I'll look into it.

Harry, do you think it's possible that these people have actually done it?

What, conjured up a demon?

A cult of demonologists playing out their nasty games,

exquisitely tantalizing themselves with ancient incantations.

Well, it's possible that even these people

might have stumbled against the symbol, the formula.

Yes, yes, yes, I suppose there's ground for that.

That girl is slipping away from me.

Her wedding day was to be in two days,

the day after tomorrow.

Part of her is preparing to die on that day,

to join Paul, the man she loves.

I don't know what I'm dealing with.

If I knew who those people were, or Paul Varney's part in this.

Under the circumstances, I think you'll soon know.

I expect whoever made that tape will shortly be paying you a call.

You don't think the girl is simply ill?

I believe there is something in the mirror.

Then I suggest that your patient is in grave danger.

No doubt you've come to the same conclusion.

- I'm Dr. Sorell. - Good morning, Doctor.

- Come in. - Thank you.

David.

Myles.

Can I speak with you?

Of course.

I've seen Barbara.

Have you?

Yes, I stopped by to see how she was bearing up.

I think I have that right, I was Paul's friend.

Well, now, you're my friend too.

I detect disapproval.

The girl's ill.

Do you realize how ill she is?

- Yes. - She oughta be in the hospital.

Is that your opinion as a physician or a physicist?

As a rational human being.

I don't intend to stand by while you encourage her hallucinations

with all this black magic clap trap.

You're free to indulge yourself in that kind of lunacy, David,

but not assault your patients with it.

And as a rational human being,

just how do you intend to restrict my freedom?

Unless you cut yourself loose from this case right now,

I intend to inform the proper medical authorities.

In a little more than 24 hours,

what you call "the proper medical authorities"

will be informed of the facts concerning Ms. Barbara Anholt.

You are free to do as you think best.

Then you'll be out of this?

Yes.

Tomorrow.

Is one permitted to choose up sides, Doctor?

May I come in?

Oh, there you are, David.

Well, have you heard from your friends at the Metaphysical Center?

- No calls. - Oh.

I've got something for you.

Where are we?

As set down by the priests of ancient Persia,

this, of course, is my own copy.

The symbol to summon the demon Rakashi.

North Point, South Point.

And here are certain incantations,

the filth we heard on the tape.

And a mirror.

Well, in mythology, if you choose to call it that,

the mirror is a place of light,

the dwelling place of the Lord Rakashi

until summoned by some bloody handy dabblers

who call themselves demonologists.

By the way, I think it was wise of you not to destroy the mirror.

It might have been dangerous than present circumstances.

How is the girl?

She was sleeping.

And her marriage day?

Begins at midnight.

In eight hours.

David.

How do you feel?

Upside down.

Myles Donovan was here.

We talked.

I've slept again.

It was hours ago.

What time is it now?

It's almost nine o'clock.

Oh.

The mirror.

It's gone.

- Where? - It doesn't matter.

Out of this house.

- No! - Barbara.

No, you have no right!

- Barbara, listen to me. - You can't!

You don't know.

Barbara, listen to me.

Whatever is wrong with you is going to be all right

after tomorrow.

That's our job now, to get through one more day.

One more.

I don't want one more.

One more day, Barbara.

After that, Paul will be the memory he ought to be.

There'll be another wedding day, and all the days of your life.

Trust me.

Stay here in this house, in this room if you like.

Will you be with me?

Yes.

Dr. Sorell, you have a phone call.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

Yes, this is Dr. Sorell.

This is Ingrid Dorne, we met at the Research Center.

Yes, Ms. Dorne?

There's a certain object missing from our tape files.

Perhaps you'll be interested in discussing its return.

Are you at the center?

Yes.

Will you come here?

Be outside in half an hour.

Mrs. Varney, tell Barbara I'll be back soon.

Stay with her.

Don't let her discuss the mirror or where it has gone.

- I quite understand. - And she's to remain here.

She must not leave, not under any circumstances.

- Thank you, Doctor. - Good night.

Have you brought the tape?

Yes.

Do you understand its significance?

You tell me.

A group to study, learn.

Demonologists.

If you like.

There are things that are beyond belief.

We search for answers, proof.

Do you have a leader?

Our teacher, yes.

I can't reveal names.

There are reputations at stake.

And a girl's life.

Yes, I understand.

Was Paul Varney part of the group?

No.

I'm afraid I can't explain.

But if you return the tape, if you stop this search,

I give you our word the group will be broken.

We will not meet again.

You must go to sleep now.

I don't want to sleep.

Dr. Sorell would want you to.

It's very late.

Come.

Your offering to the Lord of Light.

- You did this. - No.

- No. - The others?

Nobody wanted this.

Your teacher then.

No.

Tell me his name.

Say it in this place.

Your demon's here, feel him, the air is moving.

He's there in Paul.

Waiting for you.

- See his eyes? - No!

See his eyes.

They're watching.

Watching you, Ingrid.

How lovely you look.

Your wedding day.

Come.

We must go to Paul now.

You were right, you know.

He is waiting for you in the mirror in Paul's apartment.

Dr. Sorell sent it there to keep it from you.

To cheat you of your happiness.

You would have lived there with your husband.

You can go there.

A car is waiting to take you to your bridegroom.

You do want that, don't you?

Don't you, Barbara?

Come in, Myles.

You told him?

Should have recognized your voice on the tape.

Are you going to judge me, David?

Because the only difference between you and me

is that I guard my fascination, my knowledge.

How do you see yourself?

As white magic fighting black?

Good against evil?

Against you, yes.

Against this thing you've done.

But do you understand what evil really is?

Because it's won its case, Doctor.

I mean, one worships the all-powerful if one worships at all.

Look at the misery of our world, the agony and the suffering.

Can you doubt that Satan leaped from Heaven

not as the vanquished but as the victor,

and gave us science, the destroyer, my own particular shrine.

We're all hostages of hell, Doctor.

All we can do is cry for mercy.

Do you deny my logic?

Your case fails.

Prove it.

Life is a denial.

What you worship is death.

What I worship is the power to do what I've done.

What you've done to Paul Varney?

He was standing there, hypnotized.

We'd been working toward the Rakashi experiment,

and we needed a host,

a Chalice of the Flesh,

a body for the demon to enter,

in case we succeeded.

I brought Paul here that night, the Chalice.

He thought it was to be just an entertainment,

a convocation of fools.

I... see the jeweled light.

Rakashi's light!

Yes, Rakashi's light.

Look at us!

Paul, look now at the design upon the table.

Touch the North Point of the design.

Paul Varney, you are the Chalice of the Flesh.

Your will is open.

You are abandoned.

Touch the South Point.

No! Please!

Oh, Lord of Blood, Lord of Lust, Lord of Fire!

Lord of Light, Lord of Fire!

- Touch the point! - Touch the point!

- Touch the point! - Touch the point!

We couldn't hold him.

That night you bought the mirror.

Well, that part was beyond my knowledge.

And the following day I saw Paul with Barbara.

He seemed amnesiac, unaware of the experience.

But I doubted that anything really significant had happened.

I even brought him along to your apartment as a sort of a test

to see if you could discern anything.

And then he was dead.

The death was an accident, David.

And the girl, tormented.

Tell me what you see, Myles.

Why?

Look into it.

No.

Touch the point.

No.

An experiment, Myles.

An entertainment.

Rakashi, Lord of Light, come to us.

Lord of Fire, come to us.

Lord of Blood, see your sign.

See it, Myles.

Lord Rakashi.

Come to us.

Lord of Light.

South Point.

Again.

North Point.

South Point.

Lord Rakashi.

Come to us.

Yes.

It's, um... the girl.

It's Barbara you're struggling for, isn't it, David?

Well, to grind your point,

if she is indeed tormented,

then you're too late, she's already doomed.

Because the demon has escaped from Paul's body

and has entered the mirror.

And in the mirror feeds on Barbara's life.

Drawing her to himself.

But if Rakashi is here.

He is.

Locked in human form.

Donovan's form.

That's right.

So that you can't get out of here.

And Barbara would be free.

How long can you hold them?

The wedding day would pass.

Ah.

Trapped, huh?

Locked body, locked room.

Oh, David.

You really think you can contain an abstraction.

Only my old friend Donovan.

You want to save the girl.

With all your learning, you're helpless.

You can't hold me.

The real key is in the mirror,

if you can find it.

Beyond infinity, you could destroy me, David.

But can you find infinity?

Barbara.

She's gone, Doctor.

You allowed her to leave?

Barbara's hopelessly insane.

Surely you must face that.

Where is she?

Where did she go?

Into her own demented dreams.

She destroyed my son.

Were it not for her, Paul would be alive.

Whatever destroyed your son was not that girl.

Don't you know yet how much she loved him?

Her love.

Her love is her own punishment.

She has what she wants now.

She's gone to Paul.

You told her about the mirror.

Barbara!

Barbara!

Barbara!

Barbara!

Barbara.

Barbara.

Barbara.

Barbara! Barbara!

Listen to me. Barbara, listen to me.

This image that you see in the glass is not Paul,

and in the end you will accept that.

What it is, truly is, is nothing you can understand yet.

- Do you people believe in magic? - Yeah!

Me too. Watch.

Ah.

That's because it's in your ear.

How'd you do that?

It's a secret.

Well.

Now go and play.

Tell me.

Are you ready for out there?

Hm, just try me.

All right.

We'll run through it again.

You suffered a loss, you've been ill.

You're not ill anymore, that's finished.

Whatever you think, whatever you remember,

whatever you think you remember is gone.

Like an appendix.

- Guaranteed? - Guaranteed.

Now go, pack, and get out of here.

And be happy, Barbara.

You're going to be happy.

Now go.