Original subtitles

Previously on The Lair...

What I'm trying to tell you

is that all the murders you've been writing about

- all link to that club. - The Lair?

Whoa. Members only.

Aah!

He's not dead.

Not dead?

It's almost like a...

vampire's bite.

Could there even be such a thing?

I can't discuss any medical information

unless you're a relative.

I'm as close to family as he's got.

Looks like this is part of a bigger picture.

The John Doe murders.

I can't help think but it's time for a new approach.

I don't think Damian's gonna be changing things any time soon.

It is a curse.

But what a lovely curse:

to be young forever.

I want you to get in that bedroom,

and I'm gonna show you

what I want you to do.

You're sticking your neck out even by being here.

Is it witchcraft?

The worst you could ever imagine.

''Now the only way you can join him

is in death.''

God!

Oh, my God! Thom!

What can make a person

do something like that against their will?

Whoever did this to him wants to finish the job.

They might come looking for him.

The time I've gone missing has been...considerable.

I can't help wondering

if anyone out there is even looking for me.

It's been days since this nightmare began.

Sometimes I wish the sun would finally set,

and this could all end...

one way or another.

Hey!

What's going on?

I'm sorry. May I ask who you are?

I was gonna ask you the same question.

I was looking for a doctor.

He's in his office. We just left him.

If he okay?

He's fine.

I'm Matthews from cardiology.

I'm off-duty,

but I thought I might check on him.

Oh. Sorry if I startled you. I'm Thom Etherton.

Thom Etherton? The newspaper writer?

Yeah. Do I know you?

I've read your column.

I've especially enjoyed your pieces

on the John Doe murders.

Have you come up with anything new?

I'm right in the middle of it, actually.

I'd like to talk to you more, later.

It is him.

After 200 years, he's come back.

He didn't recognize me,

but I must make him remember.

He must remember.

Thom, look at his eyes.

They're closed now.

I know. And he's breathing hard.

Maybe we should get Dr. Belmont.

I'll go, okay?

Okay.

Although you may find it difficult to believe, Colin,

I do know what I'm talking about.

Oh, I'm certain it's exactly as you said.

It's just not necessary that I believe it.

You think I'm a fool.

But as I sit here tonight,

I tell you I saw Richard Devere,

the man that painted that portrait,

the man that I killed, alive.

The man that you killed two centuries ago.

He didn't know who I was.

It would be a simple matter

to have him killed once again,

and then your problem will be solved.

Killed?

I dare not.

I've lived with that cursed painting for years,

constantly reminding me

that I destroyed the one true person I ever loved.

You?

In love?

I couldn't convince him of it then,

and I've had an eternity to dwell on it since.

But Devere cursed you in that portrait.

He also gave me eternal life,

to never grow old.

He wanted me to be with him forever,

and I was too young to realize it then,

and I killed him for it.

That's not really Richard Devere.

He only looks like Devere.

And if you wait another hundred years,

you're gonna find another one that looks just like him.

I am the master here, Colin.

I am your master,

and I will decide what is best for us all.

For you, this means nothing,

but for me,

it's as vivid in my mind as if it were yesterday.

Richard was magic to me.

I'd met him amongst the cafes of Boston,

and there was an attraction,

and I could not stop myself

from wanting to be with him constantly.

But there was a dark side to Richard Devere,

something that I later learned

was not of this or any other life.

When Devere chose me as his next subject,

I was honored,

and a bit apprehensive

that I should be the center focus

of his total concentration.

Whatever we shared between us

manifested itself in that painting,

and it frightened me.

It was as if a part of my very soul

had been trapped inside those brushstrokes.

At times I felt as if I were on fire.

Devere revealed to me

the glorious visions of the damned,

and in doing so,

passed his damnation onto myself.

Richard Devere had wrought upon me

the curse of his own immortality,

but at such a terrible price.

Was I to be his lover or his ultimate victim?

It was then that a plan of retaliation formed within me.

I had been so many things in my life--

some of utter respectability,

others as low as a human may sink.

But I'd never been a victim.

In the cellar,

I found the ancient tomb of Richard Devere.

I dared not open it,

for fear of what I would find inside.

Could Devere's curse be ended

by the mere act of killing him?

I tried not to pity him

as I looked down upon his sleeping form.

Quickly, all respect for humanity

and the sanctity of life began to wash away from me,

and I felt only the passion

to slay this monster who had betrayed me.

The deed was done,

and I had only but little hope

that I was not already as Devere had been.

His desire to bind me to him forever had failed.

The painting had changed,

and in its place was the face of a monster--

a hideous, twisted vision

that had just minutes earlier been my own.

And now I knew the full depth and meaning

of Devere's final curse.

Even from beyond the grave, he bound himself to me,

for every act of evil I have ever committed since

has returned to haunt me in that portrait.

And what do you hope to achieve by all this?

Forgiveness.

What's wrong with him?

He's in love.

In love?

He doesn't love anything.

He's not capable of it.

It's a fool's folly, my friend,

and one that I'm certain's gonna bring about his downfall.

How can you be so sure of that?

Because I plan to cause it.

Ahh.

Oh. I'm sorry.

Thom.

Thom,

you hear me.

Listen to my words.

Listen and hear.

I want you to come to me, Thom.

Follow my voice and come to me.

You know where I am.

Come to me...now.

Doctor's orders.

You are to go home and get some rest.

I'll stay here till the deputy arrives.

All right.

Are you sure it's okay?

I won't leave the room.

Ahem.

Thanks, Frank.

Thom, are you here?

Hey, doc. You get some sleep?

A couple hours in my chair.

You still go home with that ultrasonic...

whatever you call it without a written consent?

No. But there's another course treatment with noxylane

that might produce some positive benefit.

Now that Mr. Tryon has transitioned

into a more recognized state of unconsciousness,

technically, I shouldn't administer it,

but I'm willing to take the chance

with the caveat that the boy's life

might be in grave danger if I don't.

Do you really believe that his life is in grave danger?

I'm willing to say that I do.

Damian.

He's here.

Excellent.

Welcome to The Lair, Richard.

Leave us.

I can't tell you how pleased I am

to see you right now.

The hours of regret I've spent mourning for you

have weighed heavily upon my soul.

But now everything is okay.

You are Richard Devere.

You understand me, don't you?

You are Richard Devere.

You know that, don't you?

I know it must be difficult for you.

I can hardly believe it myself.

But somehow I always knew you'd come back.

And I can hardly believe

that exerting a hypnotic trance over a man

and making him repeat exactly what you say

qualifies as reincarnation.

What do you know of the eternal soul?

You who are callous and jaded,

what do you know of my life?

I know you risk losing it,

and maybe mine as well.

How does this

serve the common good of the family?

This does not serve the family.

This is my concern, not yours.

I'm not asking for anyone's input.

And if he endangers the family, what then?

He won't.

And if he does,

are you prepared?

I have, and will always,

continue to protect this family

by any means necessary,

and I don't need you

to question or evaluate my judgment.

Nor do I presume to.

I merely seek to act as the devil's advocate.

And you do it very well.

But now is not the time.

If you'll excuse me.

Be cautious that the police

don't become too interested in our establishment.

Up until now, we've enjoyed

an arm's-length understanding with them,

but if we push them--

For almost 200 years, I have made it a practice

of eluding entanglements with the law,

and I will continue along those lines

for another 200.

Now if you'll excuse me,

I have an old acquaintance I would like to rekindle.

Who?

Just a second!

Jimmy.

Yeah, Jimmy. Where the hell you been?

I was at the hospital with Thom.

All night?

Yeah, just until a few hours ago.

So where is he?

I don't know.

You don't know where he is?

You're staying at his house.

Are you trying to run out on me?

No. I don't want to go home.

I don't want to go home because you're there.

Well...

you finally said something

that doesn't sound like a lie.

Get in the car.

No. We don't belong together, Jimmy.

We're through.

I can't be with you anymore.

Get in the car.

This has been used

to successfully reverse prolonged unconsciousness

in certain individuals.

I can only hope we achieve similar results.

How long will it take before we know something?

I can only go by what I've read.

This is the first time I've actually used this.

I just hope he responds quickly.

I think he's coming around.

Don't be too anxious, Sheriff.

This my take some time.

There's only one thing I need to know.

Where am I?

You're at the hospital.

Am I okay?

I think you're going to be.

I'm Dr. Belmont.

Listen, kid...

just tell me.

who did this to you?

Did what?

The sheriff found you on the side of the road.

You had a serious injury,

and you've lost a lot of blood.

I don't remember.

I don't remember anything.

Well, try.

But I am trying.

I'm completely blank.

I don't remember anything at all.

Oh, that's all right.

This may take some time.

You just rest easy.

I'll come back and see you in a while.

Let's run his vitals and start another IV.

We can try this again in half an hour.

All right.

Rest up, kid.

I'll be back.

Can you tell me something?

I'll try.

Who am I?

Another lonesome tale about a lonely boy

Who's growing sick and tired of the usual toys

I've made 'em twist and moan

But they always complain

So find a better half that can feel no p-p-ain

But like any man of science

I just kept to myself

I want the kind of love I can put on a shelf

Formaldehyde

Open your--

Now, some say that boy's a bit odd

Muh hoo ha ha ha ha ha!

And some say--

You know, I've always admired

the way you keep yourself busy, Frankie.

You never complain.

You just...do you work, no matter what.

Work keeps mefrom thinking about...things.

I know just what you mean.

But it's time we all started thinking

about some things, Frankie.

What kind of things?

I mean important things,

like our own safety.

What do you mean?

I mean Damian.

He's lost his vision, his drive.

He ceases to be the leader he once was.

The path he walks now is one of disaster

for all of us.

Why are you telling me this?

I'm not one of you.

I'm just a guy.

Damian could kill me with one glance,

and he would if he even suspected

we were having this conversation.

That's the beauty of it, Frankie.

It's because you are a mortal

that he trusts his power over you.

You can maneuver him into the right place at the right time.

He thinks you're too frightened

and weak to stand up to him.

I am.

I am too weak.

No, you're not, Frankie.

You just want your freedom.

I can help you

if you help me.

He'll kill me.

I'm not alone in my thinking on this.

The family shares the same concerns that I do.

It's gonna happen one way or another,

so the question is...

whose side are you gonna be on

when the blood hits the fan?

What do you want me to do?

You say I've been here for a few days?

Yes, you have. Feeling better?

I just don't understand

how I can't remember anything.

Amnesia is rarely if ever permanent.

Probably caused by the medication.

When that wears off, you'll probably get your memory back.

I hope that's soon.

I know this won't be easy.

The transition alone

would tax the sanity of an ordinary man,

but I will help you find your true self once again.

What you see about you

is what I've worked on since I've come here.

It is everything to me.

My domain, my kingdom...

and my prison.

Do you remember the day we met

at the artists' gallery?

You said my eyes had a vividness to them,

a brightness,

and you said that they reminded you of something.

What did they remind you of?

Do you remember saying that?

Of course you don't...

because you're not Richard Devere.

Maybe Colin was right.

Maybe...I wanted you to be Richard so badly

that I only saw what I wanted to see.

If only there was a way to be sure.

The portrait.

The portrait that you painted of me.

Oh, yes. If anything can bring you back to me,

it would be that painting.

It is your masterpiece,

your creation...

just as I am.

You'll see, and then you'll know. Come.

I've protected it for all these years.

No one has ever--

No.