Connor Macleod is lighting candles in St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
He is beside the altar. There are tall stained-glass windows and muted sunlight in the church.
There are parishioners scattered about amongst the pews, in prayer.
(He lights a candle) For you, my bonnie Heather. Happy birthday.
(He lights a second candle) And you, Juan Ramirez.
Take care of her, you overdressed haggis.
Moving to an empty pew, he sits silently, lost in the past.
Footsteps, heavy boots.
The figure steps up to the altar, hands together in mock prayer, and he reaches forward dousing the candles with the flat of his hand.
Nuns look over with concern. Some parishioners look up from prayer.
He walks on to Macleod, stopping beside him, he puts his hand on his shoulder and leans down.
Kastagir is gone. Only you and I remain.
(He sits down behind Macleod)
MACLEOD (Turning back to the Kurgan):
(Sarcastically) Nice to see you Kurgan. Who cut your hair?
The Kurgan has become a punk-rocker with his head largely shaved, and his scarred throat secured with many safety pins.
KURGAN (His voice deep and rasping):
I am in disguise. This way no one will recognise me.
The Kurgan is amused, but does not care.
What do you want?
Macleod laughs, not with any fear.
And the Prize.
Two nuns walk down the aisle.
The Kurgan turns to them suddenly as they pass by.
Happy Hallowe’en ladies!
The nuns immediately cross themselves, and the Kurgan leers at them with his tongue flicking at them as they continue down the aisle. Some of the parishioners look on with concern.
Lost your sense of humour.
MacLeod’s eyes fix on the Kurgan’s safety-pinned throat-scar.
Ramirez’s blade did not cut deeply enough.
He was right about you. You are slime.
Ramirez was an effete snob.
He died on his knees.
I took his head and raped his woman before his blood was even cold.
The Kurgan laughs with evil delight.
The priest leads the altar boys away.
The parishioners begin to leave the church.
The Kurgan stares at MacLeod’s stricken face.
Understanding dawns in his lurid eyes.
I see. Ramirez lied. She was not his woman. She was your woman.
(Leering) And she never told you. I wonder why. Perhaps I gave her something you never could, and secretly she yearned for my return.
Macleod grabs his shirt, with fury in his heart.
They rise; The Kurgan shoves Macleod’s arm away.
Holy ground, Highlander. Remember what Ramirez taught you.
You can’t stay in here forever.
KURGAN (Smiling and returning to sit in the pew):
You’re weak, Highlander. You will always be weaker than I.
Macleod swiftly grabs the Kurgan under his chin, snapping his head back.
I’ll be out front.
KURGAN (Shoving Macleod’s hand away):
We will meet soon enough.
MacLeod leaves by the front doors. The Kurgan leans back in the pew with his arms behind his head and his heavy boots resting on the next row. Evil laughter rings through the church.
The Priest confronts the Kurgan.
This is the house of God. People are trying to pray. You’re disturbing them.
He cares about these helpless mortals.
Of course He cares, He died for our sins.
That shall be his undoing.
Father, forgive me. I am a worm.
The Kurgan goes to kiss the Priest’s hand, but instead drags his tongue heavily across it, looking up at the Priest with evil amusement. The Kurgan walks off down the aisle, laughing, but stops and turns.
I have something to say.
(Dancing a twirl and roaring at the church)
It is better to burn out than fade away.
Laughing, he leaves the church.