Original subtitles

And for my sister. Quit shoving!

I was here first.

Shut up!

It's the ice cream guys! Let's go!

Come on, you guys!

- There he is! - We're coming!

- Do you have Drumsticks? - What about Creamsicles?

Hell has many demons in training.

This one is known as Billy Kincaid.

Images of love and hate...

torture them all at first.

It is the way of things for each new warrior.

There is no respite from the inner pain.

My God. Not another one.

Another one? What do you mean?

Kids get dumped here. Never had a chance. Horrible, isn't it?

She has a little girl now.

- Who? - She wanted children.

She went to doctors, but it was me all along.

You know, not wanting to pry or nothing...

but some of us were kind of curious.

You know, wondering just what the hell are you?

Somebody who doesn't want to be bothered.

That's what I told them.

When he wants to talk, he'll talk. Right?

- Don't hold your breath. - Look, mister.

Figure you're hanging around these alleys for a reason.

Maybe you just want some company.

I've got nowhere else to go, that's all.

Could be you need a friend.

All I need is Wanda, but I can't have her.

- Not like this. - Why not?

You ask stupid questions.

I've seen lots worse.

I used to work for a mortician.

That makes me feel better.

Get outta here.

You know, folks around here don't look or smell so nice...

but we're good people.

We share what we've got. You're welcome to it.

With each new Hellspawn...

there's always the question:

How long, if at all, can they hang onto their humanity?

Some last longer than others.

He kills a bunch of guys, leaves for a while...

comes back and camps down here in Rat City.

He looks like something out of goddamn Stephen King, for Christ's sake.

Nobody invited him. This is our place.

Need to kick his ugly ass out of here.

What's he doing, Gareb? You talked to him, right?

- This is our place. - Damn right.

Bogey's a stinking freak.

- He's got problems. - Yeah.

- Did you see his face? - Christ!

No, I'm serious. He's, I don't know, troubled.

Really screwed up.

Ain't we all? Thing is, he's dangerous.

I mean, we can't sleep with that thing down here.

We don't know what he is, what he wants. Nothing!

If you ask me, don't need to borrow any more problems.

Life's shitty enough.

It's the truth. Get his ass outta here.

What are we, perfect? Just kick him out. Is that it?

He's sitting by himself in the heart of Rat City.

Where's he supposed to go from there? Potter's Field?

The guy looks like a goddamn vampire!

Yeah, Bobby. What did you look like when you first crawled in here?

You want him to stay, fine. You go right ahead.

But when you wake up in a pool of blood with your head on backwards...

don't come crying to me.

Maybe we can scrape together some food for him.

He's not some goddamn pet you get to keep!

Think about it, man.

Gareb, you dumb son of a bitch.

Yo! Look out!

Get outta here!

All right, you alley pukes.

Who's gonna stay alive by telling me what I want to know?

You know who whacked Tony's boys, right?

Please. I don't.

Buzz. Too late.

Okay. Who's our next happy contestant?

The double jeopardy answer is: the person...

who took out three very dapper Italian men...

whilst they were about the business of their esteemed employer.

You look like a couple of smart turds with big eyes.

Give me the question I'm looking for and win your lives. Oh!

And just so you know...

the loser gets parting gifts made out of Teflon...

and I ain't talking cookware.

I'll even help you out in case you don't watch game shows.

Okay. It goes like this.

- Who is... - About to take your head off.

All right, game boy. This is what you're gonna do.

Stay alive long enough to give your boss...

- What's his name? - Tony.

Tell Tony to keep his goons out of these alleys.

As of now, they're out of bounds.

You're gonna give him my message.

'Cause as far as I know, I'm already dead.

Which means I'm waiting for your sorry ass in the afterlife.

What'd I tell you, huh? He's something, ain't he?

Name is Bobby.

Al.

Everybody?

Meet Al.

New warriors often find allies...

among those damned by society.

For a while it gives them a sense of security.

But they couldn't be more wrong.

Hello. What?

When?

Is he still alive?

Did he say who did it?

I don't give a shit if he needs a doctor!

Find out who whacked my men, or you're gonna need a priest!

Yeah, it's Tony.

I'm calling in my marker.

Don't give me that shit. You owe me.

Send him. Today! Right now!

By the time I hang up this phone, he better be over the Atlantic.

Damn it.

Let me guess. The first day on the pro bono case.

- Is it that obvious? - It's the only time you get frazzled.

I'm just going over the case files today.

- The subject matter... - What is it?

Kyle Watson, a child killer.

Indicted on four counts. Two of them, little girls.

Can't you pass on this one?

And give the partners something to whine about?

No. I can handle it.

Gonna have your asses up on so many goddamn charges...

your great-grandchildren will be answering subpoenas!

I'm a United States senator!

Now, you don't break into my room and snatch me off a woman!

You don't throw me in a helicopter to New York in the frigging night!

Sorry for the inconvenience, Senator.

I trust we didn't interrupt anything deeply personal.

But I thought this needed a face-to-face.

Jesus. Wynn.

What the hell is this all about?

It's about us, Senator. Our relationship.

I hear you're going to take a pass on the presidential race.

How do you know that? I've barely told my wife!

I wanna put you in the White House, Senator.

Yeah. Right. Exactly how many skeletons do I have in my closet?

Per our arrangement, I've been holding the key to that closet for some time...

gouging the eyes out of anyone who so much as looks in its direction.

- You're serious. - Always.

All right. Say I run.

What do you get out of it?

A friend in a very high place.

To be honest, I never wanted the Oval Office.

I'm content fighting battles from the senate floor.

Maybe a Speaker of the House.

Sorry. Not good enough.

In other words, you're not asking me.

And if I refuse?

I see a closet opening. Your own Pandora's box.

You could do that, but then I'd have to call the president...

about a certain international tea party you're throwing with DOD ordnance.

The scandal would make Watergate and Iran Contra...

seem like a mild fart on Capitol Hill.

Look, McMillan, you get something straight right now.

This isn't just about you and me.

Last time I checked, you had friends and family.

I can make them suffer too. But more importantly...

who's going to protect your bastard son Billy from New York's finest?

I hear the cons on Riker's despise child killers.

Raped one last year with a band saw.

We're in bed together, Senator. We have been for quite a while.

So relax, bend over...

and enjoy it.

and enjoy it.

What the hell's it about this alley, Twitch?

- The atmosphere. - What do we know?

More of Tony Twist's crew.

Right. Troubleshooters.

Guys sent in to settle scores.

Precisely, sir.

Looks like they got settled instead.

No reporters this time.

Perhaps he was allowed to leave.

Sending a message to big Tony.

Twist doesn't like getting spanked this hard.

There's gonna be a war down here...

unless we can figure out what's going on.

What about those reporters?

Nothing yet, sir. Rumor has it they were tracking someone high up.

A major scandal. But that's all so far.

- But there is one unusual element. - What?

The dead homeless man from the previous killings.

The mushroom.

His name's Jeff Stevens.

Former technical head of SpecCom Cellular.

So why's he driving Dumpsters on our beat?

Seems he was listening in on some very high level conversations.

I gotta figure Stevens heard something huge...

hoped to trade off his indictment for what he was sitting on...

and use the news boys as middle men.

Astute, as always, sir.

Now, breakfast.

I have a map of the local color, sir. Do you prefer grease or sugar?

Both. I'm feeling tense.

Burke, that fat bastard.

Yeah, he's gonna give a shit about this case.

Yeah. When does he land?

Good. Pick him up the second he touches down and bring him to my office.

You want justice done right, you gotta buy it yourself.

Ah, I'll be honest.

I figured you for a rumor.

You know, ex-CIA killer turned ruthless mercenary.

Little more than a skeleton on a respirator for almost three years.

I mean, please!

The pain was cleansing.

How'd you come back from there?

The rumors you've heard about me are all true.

You got no conscience...

no soul, when it comes to killing.

What I've got is a hungry bank account.

Right now someone's paying me top dollar on your behalf.

So what seems to be the problem?

You keep up with current events?

Only where death is concerned.

Your men have had a bad week.

Yeah. Well, I want the piece of shit responsible.

Bring me his bones in one bag and his organs in another, okay?

Of course. But I'll be keeping the heart myself.

- For what? - Dinner.

Such sweet folks, those homeless.

They will take anybody in...

including a freak like you, Spawn.

Hey. Maybe you'll meet a nice homeless woman...

and raise a bunch of homeless kids.

Wouldn't that just be keen?

What the hell do you want?

Right to the point. I really like that.

Because it's not what the hell do I want...

it's what does Hell want to do with you.

Care to know what that is? No? Okay.

Here it is. It is time to get real. Got it?

Hey. A deal's a deal, and Malebolgia, my boss and yours...

delivered on his end.

You got to see your wife.

Dear, sweet, tasty Wanda.

I gotta say, Spawnie, baby's got back.

You're about two seconds from wearing that smile around your ass.

Yeah, kiss me first. All right? Anyway...

it's business now, big boy.

You got the uniform and the attitude, so let's get to it.

To what?

You're a Hellspawn. The Earth is ready to burn.

You're the guy with the match...

and I'm here to make sure you do the job right.

Look, I don't have time for this. I got my own problems.

You don't just turn your back on your obligations.

You think you're too good to be a Hellspawn?

You should be down on your knees thanking Malebolgia...

for the privilege of being a ranking officer in this Hell's Army.

You should be down on your knees thanking me...

for not killing you where you stand.

Yeah, right.

I don't think you know who you're dealing with.

But it's time you found out.

Listen, fat boy.

I've had just about enough!

Yeah, baby! Right there!

That's how Daddy likes it!

You'll feel some pain.

- But I know you can hear me. - Get out of my head!

It's how us children of hell communicate...

through telepathy.

So begins your training.

What are you?

A creature far superior to humans.

A true native of Hell.

Something no spawn will ever be.

Fool. You can't rely on weapons.

That's not why he chose you.

There's something in you...

that Malebolgia senses... something evil.

There are rules to follow. It's my task to make sure you do.

Consider this a friendly reminder.

Get with the fucking program.

You spawn have never been worthy.

I'll be back for you.

And when I come, you better be ready to rock and roll.

This is the farewell bash for humanity.

And you, you're bringing the party favors.

Oh, and a word to the wise.

Laying there all twisted up like that is no good for your back.

That was pathetic...

but not altogether unexpected.

Your powers are finite. Use them sparingly.

What am I into here?

- What do you think? - I think it's insane!

Am I dead or am I alive? What am I?

You're going to have to trust yourself for the answers.

If you know what the hell's going on, old man...

I'd suggest you tell me straight.

There's a war on between Heaven and Hell...

and you are on the front lines.

- What war? - The only war.

Earth is the battlefield.

Human souls, the prize.

Just the way it's always been.

You're nuts, you know that?

Look.

You have to pay attention to the world you're in.

You might think you're doing good, taking out the bad element.

But you just can't go around killing without a little forethought.

There are repercussions you can't even imagine.

Stop tap dancing around the issue and spit it out.

I wish it were that easy.

All I'm trying to say is...

you've still got a choice.

What kind of choice?

If I told you, it wouldn't matter.

Just find out. Then make the right choice.

But don't wait too long. The sands are always running against you.

How am I supposed to find out?

How, indeed?

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