All language subtitles for The.Child.Remains.2017.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-iKA

Be still.

Her water broke.

She's hemorrhaging.
It's breech.

Please save my baby.

And give her the spoon.

Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done

on earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our
daily bread,

and forgive our trespasses
as we forgive those

who trespass against us.

Lead us not to temptation
but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,
and the power,

and the glory, forever and ever.

Amen.

No.

It can't be.

It's God's will.
- No.

It's not true.

The Lord said "Suffer
the little children"

to come unto me and
forbid them not,

"for of such is the kingdom
of Heaven."

Stop.

Listen.

Listen.

He's alive, I can hear him.

It's okay.

He's not dead.
- Be silent.

I know, I know everything.

Don't kill my baby.

Leave us.
- No.

No, no.

I don't have nought to do with
it, what she does.

You can enter Heaven whole.

I promise you'll never be like
the others.

Please, Mother Rose, not
like this.

I know what
you've been up to, Faith.

You're devil's work.

My baby is innocent.

The guardian angels,

the god who sent you.

I'm sorry, please.

Please, no, God, please.

Please God, I'm sorry.

You won't...

Get away.

I c...

Your burial fees.

It's three
o'clock on November 24th

and here is your weekend
weather forecast.

Showers and sun and even a
chance of thundershower, so if
you'd like to plan ahead&.

Almost there, close your eyes.

Are they closed?
- Yes.

It's dark in here.

Okay, you can open your eyes.

What do you think?

It's beautiful.

Happy birthday.

It's got a big backyard,
a little nature walk.

Open spaces.

Perfect.

It's only been open for a
few months

the website's still
under construction.

So are we, right?

Thank you.

All right.

Wow.

Sorry.

Ripped out pages.

Bad omen?

Hello?

We're here.

You like?

I love it.

I married a bookworm.

Sorry, not grounds for divorce.

Anything interesting?
- Not yet.

Let me guess, Treasure Island?

The Lord said...

Babe, you okay?

Fine, fine.
- I'll be right down.

Look at me.
- I'm okay.

There can't be triggers here.

I know.

Hi.

My, you are punctual.

I was dusting upstairs and I
saw your car out the window.

Hello, you must be Liam and Rae.

Rae Delatour.
- Monica Leeds.

It's lovely to meet you,
and welcome to the Mersey.

Let's get you
checked in, shall we?

I trust you had no problem
finding us.

It's secluded but that's
exactly what my wife

and I wanted.

Beautiful inn you have.

Why thank you.

We're still fixing it up,

but we've had a wonderful
response so far.

No doubt.
- Well, this late

in the season, we're mostly
preparing for the winter,

so you are only guests.

We have the place to ourselves.

Indeed.
- That's great.

For all three nights,

now may I just
have a driver's license

and a credit card please?

Nope, I'm gonna pay with cash.

Yeah, of course, but
that can wait till checkout.

It's just for incidentals.

Here, no sweat.

There is a continental
breakfast included,

but there are few dining
options in the town nearby.

We saw that driving through.

Yes, so shall we
add supper here?

Why not?
- Perfect.

And when are you expecting
your new arrival?

I'm only three months.

How did you know?

The glow in your cheeks.

My dear departed mother
delivered many babies,

so I've always had a
sense about such things.

Now, shall I show
you to your room?

Wow.
- Now, let me help you

with some of those.

Baby on board.

How old is the house?

It was built in 1848
by a wealthy merchant.

Mother took possession in 1945.

What do you do, Rae?

I'm a journalist.

I mainly teach now.
- How nice.

City College.
- Very nice.

We're hoping for more media
coverage.

The Mersey really is an
undiscovered gem.

Maybe you can write a
travel piece.

And what do you do, Liam?

Sorry, Mr. Darrow.

I write music, songs.

Occasionally I sell one.

I play in a band.
- How fascinating.

I'll have to Google you.

There is wireless, right?

I have no bars at all.

Yes, once you leave the town,

there's almost no coverage,
but we have our own network.

The password's in the room.

Is the room to your liking?

Yes, just dizzy from the stairs.

Here, to set a relaxing mood.

Can we remove these please?

Whatever for?

These scents are chemical based.

If I'm breathing it,
so is my baby.

Well, of course, I'll take
them with me.

And cocktails at seven.

Virgin, of course.

Don't volunteer me

to write a vacation
fluff piece, please.

What's the big deal?

I was just trying to...

I was an award
winning crime reporter.

I'm not ready to be busted
down to weekend features.

I thought we might get a
discount.

On my birthday?

That's nice.

I know you don't love teaching,

so maybe there's a way
that you can write again

without getting your flashes.

It's PTSD, it's not menopause,

and I already have
a therapist, thank you.

Images, hallucinations,
whatever.

I'm just trying to help.

You're not help...

What?

Something just grabbed my leg.

Come on.
- I'm not kidding.

Peekaboo.

I'm practicing.
- Sorry.

I know I'm not easy.

I'm sorry, I'm just...

Me too.
- It's okay.

It's okay, thank you.

I'm gonna take a walk before
dinner.

Collect myself.
- Okay.

Don't stray off the path.

Why not?

Dark falls fast.

There's tangled alders for
miles and sinkholes besides.

That'd be a lousy way to
spend my birthday weekend.

Thanks.

Jesus.

Hello, test, hello, hello.

Something wrong, miss?

No.

Your watch, is it gold?

Gift from my parents.

Why are you asking?

Enjoy your walk, miss.

Are we lost?

Just exploring.

The acoustics in here are
wonderful.

What is this device?

It's a ghost box.

It's patterned after
Thomas Edison's

for speaking to
spirits of the dead.

Get out of here, really?

Supposedly a blue
light bulb inside glows

with their presence.

19th century social
media for dead people.

A toy for fun and games.

If this room isn't occupied,

do you think I could use
it to record some music?

I brought my keyboard.

It's out in the car.

I just don't think my
wife will appreciate it

if I set that beast up in ours.

Yes, I had noticed that she
has certain sensitivities.

You have no idea.

Well, it's been a long
time since we had any music

in the house.

I'm sure mother
would be pleased.

Well, thank you.

I've been lacking
inspiration lately.

I promise I'll try
not to be too loud.

It's no bother at all.

In fact, it's nice to
see you again.

Thanks so much for the watch.

I'm fine.

Please don't worry.

I'm about as far
from any crime scene

as you could imagine.

Mom, you're cutting out.

Yeah, okay.

Birthday Skype on Sunday.

Love you too.

I recognized your name when
you made your reservation

and I removed this from the
guest book.

She must have signed it for
both of us.

I didn't know.

Lovely girl, the other one.

So young and full of life.

That's over now.

I'm not proud.

I trust you'll be discreet.

Of course.

I love my wife.

Hello.

You gave me a fright.

My baby.

It may have been a local girl.

We hire them to do the laundry.

She wasn't carrying any.

She was in bare feet.

Well youth around
here can be a little wild.

They sometimes use
our woods as shortcuts.

It's a maze back there and
dangerous.

So I heard.

Now, I have prepared
a very healthy meal

from local produce
with a French flair.

Sounds delicious.

Well, I lived most
of my life in Europe.

Owned a little in
there until I came home

to resurrect the Mersey.

What was this place before?

Before what, dear?

Before it was an inn.

A private sanctuary
for unwed mothers,

away from prying
eyes and scandal.

My mother was the proprietress

and a highly renowned midwife.

This was a maternity home?

Isn't it apropos?

Mother Rose died in 1979.

She would have been 100
years old this year.

To mothers, past and future.

To mothers.
- To mothers.

To mothers.
- Mothers.

Please, no.
- Open your legs, slut.

Mother delivered
hundreds of babies in this
house.

We found good homes for them
all over the world.

You used to work with her?

Well, only in the summers.

I was sent to England to
boarding school.

So, your mother made
a lot of money at this?

Well, in those days, private
adoption was a fee service.

Parents and girls paid
good money to avoid shame

and barren couples would pay
well for a child of their own.

Look, the
Monticellos of Pittsburgh

adopted this little boy,

and the Swaines from
Hartford took this girl.

Where are the
photos of the mothers?

There are none.

Their identities were protected
and secret

for their sake and the
sake of the families.

The girls were given a pseudonym

the moment they arrived here.

Patience, Charity, Prudence.

Faith.
- Yes.

Their names still
adorn the doors.

False names.
- Virtuous names

to set them on the proper path
in life.

My mother, Rose, a proud
Christian,

a leading businesswomen,
she made and sold elixirs.

She was a self-taught herbalist,
far ahead of her time.

So why did it end?

In the late '60s and early '70s,

mother ran into financial
troubles.

Love children.

Illegitimacy was common, normal,
even,

and then with birth control and
abortion.

Women owning their bodies.

More enlightened times.

Can I interest you in some cake?

Too much sugar.

I have enough trouble sleeping.

Of course.

I'm a diabetic myself.

Wow, she sure loves her mom.

I love this mom.

Who left this?

Blank journal.

Another welcome gift.

Well, we were with her the
whole time.

Not the whole time.

It's blank but not new.

That's odd.

You're a journalist.

She probably just wants you

to write a nice
review, that's all.

It's sweet.

I'm gonna take a bath.

It's not too late, you know.

We could wait a little
while until you get better.

Wait until when?

I'm 42 on Sunday.

Maybe there's no
cure for what I have.

What we have.

We're in this together, all
right?

Because of my condition,

there's a greater chance
of something going wrong.

Liam, there's a smell.

Something off.

Mrs. Leeds?

My baby.

It's okay, baby.

Rae, it's just a nightmare.

One inside another.

Are you okay?

I don't think so.

Good morning.

Mr. Darrow, you left
some of your musical gear

in the upstairs room.

Right, I can run back up.

No, no, later is fine, but
please don't move any toys

out of the bedrooms.

Many of them are valuable
antiques and they carry
memories.

So, will you be
breakfasting here?

No, I think we're gonna
explore the town

and the local diner.

There's not
much to see, I'm afraid,

although it is charming.

We do have a lovely old library.

By the way,
there's a peculiar smell,

there's something musty.

There's some mildewed
boxes in the basement.

I was planning to trash
them this very weekend,

but with your booking, I...

I'll take care of them
immediately.

Thank you.

I guess the air fresheners
were masking it.

Yes, she's always like this.

You barely touched your food.

Yeah, I had a rough night.

I was dreaming
and then I wasn't.

I was awake when
I saw that girl again.

What girl?

Ever since we got there,

it's like two addicts who know
each other without speaking.

It's like the house
has what I have.

The house has post traumatic
stress.

Yeah.

You're like the least
gullible person that I know.

I was.

Did you notice anything there?

No.

You really are spooked.

We're going to church.

Um, not quite.

Wow, you're really
found party central.

Maybe I just need to relax.

Libraries relax me.
- I know.

You go explore.
- Explore what?

This is it.

Good morning.

Friendly town.

Where do you want it?

You know.

It won't stay there.

Do it.

We've come a long way, baby.

My baby.

Can I help you find something?

Do you have more
information on this place?

It's called the Mersey Inn now.

We're staying there.

No.

Thank you.

What's wrong?

Give me that journal.

What's going on?

Just about to tell you.

Mother's fear.
- What?

Mother's fear.

You're not gonna speak to our
innkeeper

about any of this?

I knew she was overselling it.

Wait, wait, wait.

I know it.

You read an article, that's all.

Whatever she was or
wasn't, it doesn't matter.

The mom is long dead.

This is a vacation.

This is a story.

One that's already been written.

What if it wasn't the truth?

Rae.

Rae.

Did you enjoy our little town?

Yes, it was educational.

Good.

And I removed the
source of that odd smell.

It won't bother you anymore.

Thank you.

And by the way,
the weather's calling

for some thunderstorms to
come through this area.

This old house tends to creak
and groan in such weather.

It's as though it
doesn't like loud noises.

That's funny.

Neither do I.

Memo for entitled story.

I knew there was something

about those photo
albums last night.

The babies were all too perfect.

What happened to the others?

Bullshit.

Enough.

More bullshit.

No one would ever go on record.

Rose spent a
fortune on lawsuits,

always staying one step ahead.

Hello.

May I enter?

I'm just checking to see
whether you have enough towels.

Yeah.

My.

Is that your child?

Mhm, a girl, they think.

It's too early to be sure.

Isn't technology wonderful?

It would have been
such a boon for mother,

being able to
determine the child's sex

and bone structure.

Sale-ability.

Place-ability.

Parents have very high
expectations as you know.

What a little angel you
have growing inside you.

Have you felt her move yet?

No.

Genius.

This place.

Liam.

Liam?

Wow, for a second, I
thought we we're just going

to have some fun.

I'll tell you more on the path.

So you're really back in action

after everything the
doctor said to you.

I'm trying to heal, Liam.

To be who I was,
who I really am.

You've tried
exposure therapy before.

It didn't work.

Everything that's happened
to me since yesterday evening,

the images I saw, this girl
I saw, they're not mine.

They belong to this place.

What if I was meant
to tell this story?

Maybe because of my
illness, I'm more receptive.

Maybe it's because I'm
about to become a mother.

I don't know.

This is the next step.

Hello, Mersey Inn.

Good morning, Monica.

How are you?
- Hello.

Yes, yes, apparently we're going

to get some weather this
evening.

Monica, one of your current
guests was in making inquiries

about the Mercy Home.

Sinkholes.

I don't believe this.
- Me neither.

I mean you.

I don't believe you.

We're not doing this.

I'm doing it.

You don't have to.

Okay, this is barbed wire

and you are fucking
pregnant, Rae.

I'm supposed to exercise
during the first trimester.

If you'd read the books,
you'd know that.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means I'm not downhill
skiing or playing hockey.

I'm just squeezing
through a fence.

Will you help me or not?

What do you expect to find?

Remains.

Awesome.

Is all of this worth the risk?

To us?

They didn't have an us.

They didn't have anyone.

Wait, just wait.

I got ya.

You know I paid
600 bucks for this.

And I love you for it.

Do you know how many
gigs that is for me?

We better not get kicked out.

We won't.

It's like there was a trail here

but it's all grown over.

Check your phone.

Do you have a signal?

No signal.

Let's go back.

You stay here, okay?

Within sight of the bench,
and you keep calling my name

so I know where you are.

Don't worry.

I'm fine.

You know where the worst place

to be during a
thunderstorm is, right?

10 more minutes, that's all.

Liam.
- Rae.

I'm fine.

It is a trail.

To somewhere.

Liam.

Rae.

Rae.

Rae.

Liam.

Fuck this.

Rae.

This is so fucked.

"And the Lord said
Suffer the little children

who come unto
me and forbid them not."

Wouldn't you
like to punch that troublesome
bitch

in the stomach.

You moved.

Liam.

Liam.

You can't be here.

Is that what I think it is?

Miss Leads liked strong drink.

What's back there?
- Go home...

To the city.

It's a burial site.

I won't tell Miss Leeds you
broke her rules.

Just don't ever come here again.

It started to pour rain.

I came back here to call
the search and rescue

for Christ's sake.
- I know what I saw.

How do you know
what you're seeing

is not just in your head?

This is not in my head.

You're not in my head.

Why can't you trust me?

Why can't you just let this lie?

Because this whole
place is a fucking lie.

This facade is a lie.

Being here is not good for you.

That's not true.

I'm stronger here.

I have a purpose again.

I never even felt a connection
to our child until I...

Until I saw...
- It's not good for us.

I am...

What?

I want to go home.

I can't.

How's your food?

It's great, I love this salad.

Made with wild mushrooms,
picked fresh in our own woods.

Excellent.

You know, I heard that
the house and your mother

were often investigated.

Indeed.

And always exonerated.

But there were deaths here.

Many.
- It's true.

Some died.

It was always very
painful for mother.

She tried her best
on her own to care

for those poor
girls with no support

from the medical establishment.

Were some poor, really?

Asked the heiress.

Of course.

They paid their way by working

as cooks and nurses, housemaids.

Mother never
refused anyone in need.

Rae.
- Some of those girls

had been trying to abort
themselves with coat hangers

and lead pencils when
mother gave them refuge.

I assure you, more babies
died in city hospitals

and abortion clinics than
ever died in the Mersey.

I'm just asking.

I'm not accusing.

My dear, perhaps your illness

is making you more imaginative.

Pardon?

You were so esteemed as a
reporter.

All those crimes...

What happened?

I was too young

for what I was
seeing every other day.

I stopped believing good was
stronger,

and then...

Anything can get in.

Poor child.

Mother Rose also dealt
with more than her share

of cruel humanity.

The men in the hospitals were
threatened

by what she was doing.

The lies they told.

Infant mortality, trying to
bully her out of business.

They hated the idea
of a successful woman.

The town rallied around her.

No girl who ever birthed
here, not one, mind you,

ever testified to any
wrongdoing.

It drove mother to heartbreak.

She died of a lack of
appreciation.

I never considered it that way.

Almost no one did.

The whole town is trying
to put it behind us.

I implore you not to
open old wounds.

You know, she's got a point.

I can't shake these feelings.

I couldn't have been
imagining that.

God, I'm not fucking crazy.

This house is not haunted.

You are haunted.

Tomorrow's our last day.

It's your birthday.

No working, okay?

Promise me.

I promise.

I'll try.

Maybe I'll play you my song.

Liam, wake up.

Listen.

Liam.

It's just a storm.

Who are you?

Play for us.

What do you want me to play?

To whoever may find this,

I arrived here May 8th,
1973 against my will

withdrawn from school.

My parents refused to accept me

and my unborn child.

I know I have brought
disgrace upon them.

My name here is called Faith.

One of the many who have gone
by this name at the Mercy.

If I or my child
should die here,

this will our be our testament.

None of the girls are permitted
writing material or pencils

or to send any letters home.

I received this journal
from the serviceman.

He's kind to me,
though helpless,

as we all are against
Mother's madness.

I stole lemon juice to write
these words.

May God forgive me.

There are no safe hiding places.

It is late summer,
thunder outside.

Newborns are bawling
from the noise

but their mothers aren't
permitted to console them,

or even to touch them.

In the nursery,
Rose screams at them,

but they will not stop.

My baby.
Whores. And the
offspring of whores.

Our hearts
and spirits are broken.

Pray against the evil you've
brought to this house.

No I couldn't.

Everybody thinks about it.

Another dead, a negro girl

given the name of Charity

delivered a beautiful
coffee-colored boy of mixed
race.

Mother Rose ordered it fed
only molasses and water.

It's starving cries
pierced my heart.

I began feeding him in secret.

Today he died of crib
suffocation.

I have no doubt what occurred.

My baby.

You're gonna feel a
little pressure.

What are you doing?

What is this?

It's a working title.

I think I've got a
real winner here.

Just listen.

You don't like it.

Look at that.

Look at that.

It was written with lemon juice.

It's invisible until
you hold it to heat.

I can read it now.
- Ooh, ooh.

You don't want to
hear what I found?

Terrible things happened here.

Sure, because you
don't wanna hear

about what I'm doing,

but the fact that I
could be a real composer

instead of a jingle writing,
cover playing hack...

But my music is
not important, is it?

It's just something I'm
supposed to fucking grow out of

now that I'm about
to be a daddy.

I never said that.

I see the way you look at me

when I can't ever
use my credit card

because I don't have any money
'cause I'm not a trust fund,

silver spoon society
snob like you,

but still, it's cut down on
your out of town gigs, Liam.

I need you to be home more.

There's just no fucking
pleasing you is there?

I never said
any of those things.

Because you like me in
your shadow

because you're so consumed,

with being a hot shot,
big time reporter again.

And let's not forget
your little condition.

Poor Liam.

Your meal ticket has a price.

Stop talking like a fool.

You fooled me.

You waited for me to fall in
love with you

before telling me what
a fucking mess you are,

and now we're gonna have a baby,

which I never wanted,

that stands a brilliant
chance of being deformed

or fucking retarded 'cause
you're so fucking old.

You were right, this
place isn't good for us.

Let's just pack and leave.

No, no.

I've shown you the utmost
patience, Rae.

So, it would be very, very
prudent of you

to show a little fucking
charity toward what I'm doing.

October 12th,
1973, I am under suspicion.

I fear for my life and
that of my unborn son.

Feeling deep in my
heart he is a boy,

I have been barred
from the kitchen

and now work in the laundry.

I use my own
wastewater to write this

while another girl weeps
in labor down the hall.

The only drugs used are
Mother's homemade elixirs.

The pain is meant to
purge our wayward natures.

I believe she puts
drugs in our food

to aid with our submission and
obedience.

Today, a girl in labor
had her legs tied together

to prevent birth because
Rose was eating her dinner.

It is said sometimes
she eats the afterbirth,

believing it a restorative
for her own health.

I was forced to assist

as Rose performed a Caesarian
section.

The butcher's work will
haunt me till I die.

Both the mother and
child have disappeared.

This place has become an
abattoir.

Who's there?

Happy birthday.

I'm so sorry.

Can we go home now?

I need your help.

Can you help me tomorrow?

One more day please.

Good morning.

Will you be having Sunday
brunch this morning?

No, thank you.

Not much of an appetite.

And Rae?

She's not feeling well either.

She actually took a
trip to the drugstore.

Well, nothing serious, I hope.

What a shame on her special day.

It's normal.

She'll be fine.

And will you be?

I'm sorry, I couldn't
help overhearing the two

of you arguing last night.

I apologize.

There's no need.

Marriage is hard and it's
certainly not for everyone.

What do you mean?

All your problems can be solved.

Hi.

I'd like to speak to someone
about the Mersey Inn.

Is this a criminal complaint?

I don't know yet.

May we speak privately please?

I used to read
your stories in the city paper.

Thanks for speaking to me.

I'm not speaking to you.

Understood?

Yes.

For a lot of years, the
Mercy Home was the pride

of this county.

When we started hearing the
other side,

many wouldn't believe it.

Still can't.

Rose Leeds is dead.

Whatever happened
or didn't happen.

What about her daughter, Monica?

Could she have been involved?

All I know she
was birthed in Boston.

No local hospital was good
enough

for a child of Rose herself.

Sent her to boarding schools
overseas.

She was never questioned
in my investigation.

You were part of that
investigation?

What we heard, it started
with the babies of mixed race,

or if the babies were
born with health problems,

harder to sell for adoption.

She knew she'd
have to feed them.

That cut into her profits

while she was greasing
politicians
to keep you out of there.

Not always.

We went in once after an
anonymous call

that a newborn had it's head
bashed in against a door,

allegedly by Rose herself.

We took samples off
every door in the house.

We never found a trace.

I've seen it.

I know which door.

Perhaps you'd
feel more comfortable

in mother's room tonight.

The one you're so fond of,

where you do your composing.

Mother loved to be
amongst the girls.

She was most vigilant.

I could put a bed in for you.

You'll sleep like a baby.

We're not getting
separated or anything.

It was just a fight.

Of course.
- There's been a lot

of pressure lately.

Perhaps we can help relieve it.

What if I was to find
a written testimonial

from one of the girls?

Alive?

I don't know.

I don't think so, but I'm
fairly certain the children

are buried in the woods behind
the house.

There are even markers.

I saw a bone.

I have pictures.

Even if we found bits of bone,

it'd be next to impossible
to prove murder.

There must be something,
some way to connect.

Trust me.

This whole thing is best left
alone.

What would it take to reopen
this case?

A witness.

A living witness.

Your wife has returned.

I should go upstairs, pack
up my instruments and my gear.

We're checking out tomorrow.

You buried them.

I don't know what you're
talking about.

How many?

How many children?

Close the door.

How could you?

Rose was my older sister.

Gut her like a pig.

Dirt, sin, dirt.

Bitch, bitch, dirt.

She always said they were
going straight to Heaven.

They'd have toys and music,

but now I don't
think that's true.

Was your niece Monica,
was she involved?

The girls were like
prisoners, and me as well.

If the babies were
marked in any way...

I'm just as guilty.

That's not for me to decide.

I'm damned to Hell is what I am.

But you can help them.

You can help me.

Sometimes they had
some breath still in them

and sometimes
before they were buried,

she made me take their...

I don't understand.

This place called you back.

It uses people and it wants
to finish what I couldn't.

Almost as soon
as I saw you, I knew.

What?

You don't like small places,
do you?

Never have, right?

How do you know that?

You were only underground
a couple minutes, I swear.

The others were awake.

They wouldn't let me.

I couldn't anyway.

Your mother was kind to me.

And you were so small.

You had the litter dipper
on your left wrist.

It was 42 years ago tonight.

Today is your birthday.

What you're saying is
impossible.

I got you to someone who
knew people in Montreal.

A rich couple wanted baby
with no fuss about it.

I'm not adopted.

You're confusing
me with someone else.

This is fucking insane.

I named you after
your mother Rachel.

Baby Rae, ray
of light in a dark place.

I guess your
new parents liked it.

It can't be true.

Your mother was
smart with words.

A writer, like you.

I gave her the scribbler.

I hid it for her.

This is...

This isn't happening.

Couldn't you read her pages?

No, this isn't happening.

I don't believe it.

I won't.

The basement is off the kitchen.

No.
- The key is there.

My baby.

Welcome back.

I know I was gone awhile.

I'm sorry.

I need you to
keep distracting her.

Please, I have
a lot to tell you,

but I just can't yet.

Are you not staying for dinner?

Can you make an excuse for me?

I love you.

I love you too.

Glory be to God.

Thank you for looking after
her all these years.

Help her to survive this night.

Shall I, amidst a ghastly band
Dragged to the judgment-seat.

Were you ever going to tell me?

It was to protect you,

to give you the best
possible chance in life.

I'm 42 years old today, mom.

Far on the left with
horror stand.

It's because I
loved you too much.

I never wanted to share.

Just tell me, where was I born?

You're my baby, Rae.

That's all anybody
needs to know.

Mom, where did you buy me from?

A private hospital in...

Fuck.

Fuck.

Shall we have
some wine before dinner?

Rae won't be joining us.

She's still ill?

What a shame.

I decorated the parlor
for her special day.

Time to wash the sheets.

Wonderful, Liam.

You're very talented.

I'm a hack.

I can barely make a living
playing music,

let alone writing it.

My age, I should be...
- Free to hone your art.

Doing better is
what I meant to say.

I remember starting this,
but I didn't finish it.

Well, of course you did.

Have you considered the offer?

Something happened here.

Whatever do you mean?

Something evil.

Your mother.

My mother?

Yes.

I can assure you, if there
is an evil in this house,

it is male.

In the basement, medical gear.

Looks primitive
even for the '70s.

Bottles, full of elixirs,
I suppose.

A home chemist with living
people to experiment on.

That musty smell, it's back.

Once, mother had
a gentleman caller.

Handsome, like you.

A young stranger.

The local lads buzzed around
this place like gadflies,

but mother was not a comely
woman.

None ever chose her,

but he did.

Shall we dance?

He plied her with wine.

Blood was in her cheeks and
music...

He whispered in her ear.

What?

Promises. Secrets.

Yes.

The stranger twirled
her on the dance floor.

That night, that night, he...

He took her like an animal.

In the morning, he was gone.

How she yearned...

How she prayed.

But only the evil remained.

Her child.

You.

A boy.

Simon Joseph,
the devil's own son.

She was poisoned after that.

With sin.

Her mind, the child, she prayed,

but her prayers were evil.

Still how she pined for the
handsome man.

I named you
after your mother, Rachel.

Baby Rae, ray of light
in a dark place.

But fatherhood is not for
everyone, is it Liam?

What happened to your brother?

It wasn't...

It wasn't human.

His little feet weren't
feet at all.

What did Rose do?

That evil shall not enter here.

She did what was necessary.

Will you, Liam?

The pains have begun.

I pray to live through this day,

but fear we will see the black
veil.

If we should die, I here
give my name for all to know

and pray the truth may
somehow find the light of day.

Rachel Elizabeth Morgan
and child.

It keeps coming back.

It won't stay buried.

Neither will I.

So troublesome, like
the bitch who bore you.

And the supply is getting short.

What are you talking about?

Distilled of impurities from
the lesser races,

Mother Rose discovered a way
of gradually restoring youth

by injecting the blood of
newborns.

It was miraculous&to be
someone...

Don't come any closer.

Someday that someone might love.

What your mother did,
you won't hide it forever.

But my dear, I already have.

You see...

I am my mother.

Is she?
- Not yet.

The doses have to be
given at intervals,

otherwise it could show
up in her bloodstream.

Untraceable and it
keeps the fetus alive.

Mom, mother, mother...

Please...

My baby.

Wait.

What do you want with it?

Well, what do you care?

You never wanted it anyway.

No, that's not true.

It's my business.

Now you can fuck your
slut and play your music

and enjoy whatever
insurance money might come.

You're free.

What every man wants.

No.

There'll be an autopsy.

They'll see.

The condition predisposes her
to stroke.

That's what it'll look like.

I don't have to be
here for this.

Just like a man.

Car keys.

Car keys.

Where are you, dear?

You shouldn't be out of bed.

Run to the woods.

Hide till morning.

There's nowhere to go, dear.

I have your car keys.

I'm sorry for everything.

Stay back.

She drugged me.
- Get away from us.

I have been wrong about so
many things.

Don't fucking touch me.

Don't you fucking touch me.

I will, I will...

I love you.

I love you and I love our baby.

Please believe me.

I hope you've enjoyed your
stay, Liam,

because now,
you're with us forever.

And the Lord said, "Suffer
the little children"

and forbid them not to come
unto me,

"for of such is the kingdom of
Heaven."

This is where it should be.

Where I thought you
were buried years ago.

You should have stayed dead.

Don't.

Save yourself.

Good night, sister Rose.

It's okay.

You're safe.

Your mother started to call
nonstop.

You got cut off.

She was afraid maybe
something...

What happened here?

My mother...

I'll see you in Hell.

The medics were just here.

Is my baby alive?

Perfectly fine, they said.

A miracle.

They're gonna airlift
you to the city.

It's on its way.

My phone, it's in the basement,

and there's a journal.

We're down there now.

We'll find everything.

This time, we will.

Thank you.

It's good to have you back.

Baby Rachel.

If you're a girl,
that's your name.

A boy...

The basement.