S1.E1 Fresh Meat - Scene 8

Ritual S1 - Episode1 - Scene 8

Debbie Sinclair's Nightmare

Characters in this Scene

Emma Roberts as Debbie Sinclair

Julian McMahon as Damien Sinclair

Sarah Paulson as Veronica Sinclair

Guido a maintenance man

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The warm night air covers Beverly Hills like a shroud and Debbie Sinclair sleeps fitfully in her four-poster bed. Her blonde hair is fanned out over the pillow like a golden halo around her head. Her brow is furrowed, and her lips move wordlessly. She dreams.

She is in the large ballroom at one of her parents' private parties. She is confused as to what she is actually doing here, because she has always been strictly forbidden from ever attending before. Dancing couples wearing Venetian masks swirl around her. Different men approach and twirl her around the dancefloor before passing her on to the next partner. Each time they become rougher, and more demanding. Hands grab at her and push and pull her, spinning her around faster and faster. Distressed and dizzy, she falls to her knees. The crowd parts to reveal Veronica wearing a Theda Bara-style Egyptian costume and sitting on top of three naked men, their bodies contorted to form a human throne. Debbie tries to reach out to her mother but is met with laughter and cruel indifference.

Many hands grab her, and she is lifted high above the heads of the crowd. A thrum of chanting begins, and she is being crowd surfed along towards a large black furnace set into the wall. As she is being passed on, more hands reach out to touch her reverently, as if she is a holy relic being carried through the streets of Rome. The surrounding metal of the furnace appears to be alive, expanding and contracting like a giant lung. It morphs into a black-faced gargoyle with a huge gaping mouth, yellow eyes and a throat of roaring flames. She realizes with terror that she is about to be devoured by the fire, and finding her voice, screams at the top of her lungs.

Debbie wakes with a jolt to find herself lying face down on the floor. She figures she must have fallen out of bed. However, something about this is not quite right. The orientation feels all wrong and instead of the plush shag pile of her carpet she is lying on smooth plaster. With creeping horror, she realizes she is pressed up against the ceiling of her room somehow levitating above her bed. Whatever force put her there suddenly dissipates, and she drops, arms flailing. She screams and lands with a thump on the spring mattress. Paralysed with fear, she becomes acutely aware of something hovering at the end of her bed. She can feel part of the mattress denting close to her legs from an unseen weight. She squints, trying to make out the dark shape at her feet and begins to hyperventilate as recognition kicks in. The black gargoyle turns its' head and surveys her with yellow cat's eyes, a smaller version of the face in her dream and like something straight out of Fuseli's The Nightmare. The creature reaches out a gnarled hand to claw at her leg. At last, Debbie finds the courage to break free of her inertia. She reaches out a hand and quickly flips on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room and chasing away the shadows.

"Daddy!" she whimpers. Damien Sinclair is seated at the foot of his daughter's bed. His hand rests on her knee, comforting her.

"It's alright honey, you were just having another nightmare."

"It seemed so real though," she whispers hoarsely.

"Here, drink this." He offers her a shot glass of viscous liquid with a slightly green tincture.

"What is it?" she asks sniffing the glass.

"An old family recipe, my mother used to give it to me whenever I had nightmares. It will just help calm your nerves. Maybe you're a bit anxious about going to college," he smiles reassuringly.

"Maybe," she says downing the liquid and grimacing from the bitter after-taste.

"Now, get some shut eye." He takes the glass and tucks her under the sheets, kissing the top of her head.

"OK...thank you, Daddy," she rolls over on her side, her lids already heavy and her voice thick with drowsiness.

"Good night sweet-heart," he murmurs, and smiling fondly, he slips out of the room. Damien shuts the door behind him and leans with his back against it, his smile quickly evaporates, and the hardness returns to his eyes.

In the master bedroom Veronica is lying on her stomach across the bed in a peach-coloured silk housecoat, her damp hair wrapped up in a towel. She kicks her heels in the air, a pair of fluffy feathered high-heeled slippers adorn her feet. She flips casually through a glossy magazine. Damien enters the room and throws his jacket over a chair. He leans in and she offers him up her cheek for a kiss.

"Did you have a good day darling?" he asks.

"Uh-huh. I went shopping," she says still flipping pages.

"Mmm-hmm. Yes, I can see that." He kicks aside boxes, wrapping paper, and shopping bags which are strewn around the foot of the bed.

"I got you something."

"You did?" He seems surprised.

"It's in the wardrobe."

Damien walks over and presses the switch that opens the sliding door to the expansive walk-in-robe. He gasps and peers intently at something inside.

"So, what do you think? Do you like it?" Veronica calls out.

"Oh, darling. I think it's just...perfect," smiles Damien.

Inside the wardrobe is a bound and gagged Guido, bleeding profusely from a head wound. His muffled screams are barely audible through the ball-gag over his mouth. When he sees Damien, he starts to weep.

Thank you, this is the end of Episode 1. Read ahead for Episode 2 - The Ritual of Thoth

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