All language subtitles for Lore.S01E01.WEBRip.x264-ION10

[thunder]

MAN: Of all the ties
that bind,

none is more profound
than family.

In 1836, Sarah Hart welcomed

her recently orphaned
12-year-old niece Mary

into her New Haven,
Connecticut, home.

Mary's parents
had been lost at sea.

Sara and Mary

found solace
in each other's company.

As the years passed,

they became inseparable.

It was as if they were
of one mind, one heart.

One morning,

as the two women worked,

Mary collapsed.

The cause wasn't clear.

[panting]

At first Sara thought
her niece had simply fainted,

but no.

Sara held Mary in her arms

as she took her last breath.

She was buried the next day.

That night,
Sara had a nightmare.

[thumping, shouting]

FEMALE VOICE:
Let me out of here!

Help! [screaming]

Help!

[crying]

Help!

[screaming]

She was convinced

this had to be
more than a dream.

Could Mary still be alive?

She begged the church
officials to unearth Mary.

It was a somber task
that quickly turned to horror

when they laid eyes
on Mary's lifeless body--

fingernails torn and bloody,

the lining of the coffin
torn to shreds.

Her face a horrid death mask.

This really happened
to Mary Hart

on October 16, 1872.

Waking up inside a small box
6 feet in the earth

is what true fright
looks like to me--

buried but not dead,

or, even worse,
buried but undead.

I'm Aaron Mahnke,
and this is Lore.

One thing we can
all be grateful for

is that we live in an age

when we know
that dead is dead.

But modern medicine
has redefined the line

between life and death.

We now have control
over that line

in a way that
previous generations

would have considered
miraculous

or the work of the devil.

Doctors routinely
stop the heart

during open heart surgery

and then revive the patient
with an electric shock.

People whose brains

have all but ceased
to function

can still be kept alive.

Cutting an organ
out of one person

and sewing it
into the body of another,

that's no longer a notion
out of Frankenstein.

That's what medicine
has always been about--

finding a way
to eliminate suffering

and keep death at bay,

even though
some early methods

may now seem barbaric.

No matter what the era,

the question has always been,

"How far are we willing to go

to keep a loved one alive?"

In 1883, George Brown
found himself

asking that
very same question.

Census records tell us
that Brown owned a small farm

in the rural community
of Exeter, Rhode Island.

He had a family,
and, like most

if not all of his neighbors,

he was Protestant.

These were people who prided
themselves on hard work,

self-reliance,

and perseverance
in the face of hardship.

[coughing]

[gasping]

[cough]

This wasn't George Brown's
first encounter

with the phantom killer.

I'm sorry, George.

You've seen how this ends.

In 1883, consumption
claimed the lives

of one in four people
in New England.

His wife Mary Elizabeth
had contracted the disease

and died an equally
agonizing death.

Now it would claim

his oldest daughter
Mary Olive.

The newspaper wrote

of the town's sorrow
at her passing.

The last hours she lived,
they said,

were a great suffering,

yet her faith was firm,

and she was ready
for the change.

George was not
a religious man,

but he prayed every night
that this terrible sickness

would leave
his children alone.

We know from death records

that consumption continued
to plague New Englanders.

But for nine years,

George's prayers
were answered,

and his family was spared.

[giggling]

Edwin, turn yourself
from the ladies.

Yes, sir.

You two have been married
for a whole year now.

Aren't you sick
of each other yet?

[sigh]
With a little more work,

there'll be more
than just the two of us
by the first snow.

[laughing]

[coughing]

Let me see.

How long?

A couple of weeks.

Do they know?

No. I'll finish.

Nurse yourself.

Yes, sir.

Thomas Brandt,
from over in Providence,

his brother took ill
a few months back.

They sent him

to Colorado Springs.

There's a special hospital
there for treatment.

The mountain air clears
the lungs, they say.

Did it work
for Thomas' brother?

Thomas says
he's good as new.

So we'll sell
some heads of cattle.

I can't let you do that.

They're my cattle, son.

Who will help you
bring in the crop?

I will.

Your strong sister will.

- You must go.
- You both go.

Both of you.

I've lost a wife.

I've lost a daughter.
I won't lose a son.

Three months after Edwin
left for Colorado,

the phantom killer
returned to the Brown house.

This time it came for Mercy.

The pandemic had reached
epic proportions,

and after enduring the ravages
of such a brutal disease,

the last remaining shred
of hope was that death

would finally bring relief.

But only if the dead
were actually dead.

At this time
in the late 19th century,

pronouncing someone dead was
more guess work than science.

The fear of premature burial
had a name: Tapephobia.

And thus the birth
of the Waiting Mortuary,

the place where the probably,

but maybe not completely dead
could be observed.

That is until the only sure
fire sign of death

presented itself:
putrefaction.

The best of the
establishments were adorned

with huge floral arrangements
to mask the stench.

Still, why wait that long
if you didn't have to?

There were a growing number
of techniques

that could provide
a speedier verdict,

like sticking a pin
under the nail bed.

Putting a live beetle
in the ear.

Bugle fanfares
at point blank range.

Razor cuts to the souls
of the feet.

A specially designed
nipple pincer.

Sticking a pencil up the nose.

Once physician even
developed a hand cranked
tongue-pulling machine.

For those with
sufficient means,

there was another option,

the safety coffin.

Enterprising inventors,

embracing the zeitgeist
of the moment,

proposed numerous patents

for this emerging class
of mortuary product.

One popular design consisted
of a long tube

that provided light
and fresh air.

One doctor designed
a system using a bell.

Strings were attached
to the hands,

feet, and head of the corpse,

and if the bell rang,
the attendant would

summon the gravediggers,

who'd rapidly reverse
their labor,

freeing the occupant from his
terrifying predicament.

Hence the expression,
"Saved by the bell."

The thing is, we'll never know
just how many woke in terror

only to die a second death.

After several weeks
in Colorado Springs,

Edwin's health was improving.

The therapies and
fresh mountain air

had reinvigorated his lungs.

But, by the time
Edwin came home,

Mercy was dead.

There we are.

I should have been there
for her, for you.

You know your sister.

She didn't even want
to know she was sick.

She knew you'd come home.

She wanted you to stay
and get well.

You look well.

Good to see you, son. Come on.

[ticking]

[coughing in distance]

[coughing]

Dr. Metcalf and some men
are downstairs.

They wish to speak with you.

[coughs]

George.

Samuel.

This is Mr. William Rose.

He lives over in Peace Dale,

but he is Exeter born
and raised.

Mr. Rose.

I heard about the tragedy
that's befallen your family.

That your son has taken
a turn for the worse.

- I have a remedy.
- Are you a doctor?

Most certainly not.

He's just a farmer,
just like us.

But he has experience with
Eddie's illness.

Samuel tells me your son
found relief

from his sickness out west.

It wasn't until he came
home it started back?

Yes.

I believe the young man
is in the grip of a demon.

George, do not listen to this.

Well, if he keeps listening
to you, Eddie will die like
the others.

Now, we've heard
about this, George.

This-- This demon,

it-- it gets into the body
of a loved one

and it kills them,

and it keeps reaching
back from the grave

to feast on the blood
of the next

and the next
until no one is left.

William knows.
He's seen it firsthand.

I let my wife
and four of my children die

before I accepted the truth.

Until I did what I should
have done from the start.

And what was that?

Since the demon spirit resides
in the heart of the diseased,

we must unearth their bodies
and find out which is the host.

You are suggesting I dig up
my wife and my daughters?

If the body is sufficiently
desiccated,

we'll know if it is truly dead.

But if there remains
an unnatural glow,

we must check the heart...

for blood.

If present, we know the demon
has taken it as a host,

and we must burn it.

It's Old World superstition.

Medieval folklore.
We live in the New World.

Well, call it what you want,
but it works.

It saved Mr. Rose
and his daughter.

She lives now
with a family of her own.

There are things on this earth
that we cannot explain,

but that doesn't make them
any less possible.

We can save your only son.

I'm sorry for your loss,
Mr. Rose.

I'd like you to leave
my house. Now.

I'll escort them out.

Please.

Go on, Samuel.

How much did you hear?

I refuse to give
into that madness.

I'm not superstitious
but this plague,

this demon has taken so many,

and now it wants Eddie.

What if there's something
to what they're saying?

- What if--
- Lily.

If we do nothing,
Eddie will die.

We both know that.

If what they're saying
could work,

I know that Mercy
would want us to try.

I didn't know the other
members of your family.

Can we live with ourselves,

if no matter how improbable?

This could work.
And we didn't even try it.

I don't know.

Please.

NARRATOR:
George Brown was being asked
to do the unthinkable:

exhume the bodies
of his family to see

if they were, in a way,
still alive.

It was a ritual with a name.

Therapeutic exhumation.

To ensure that the dead
were really dead.

The idea was born
some hundred years earlier

from the work of
George Stahl,

one of Germany's
most respected doctors.

Stahl was obsessed with
understanding

what separated
life from death.

He believed that
an invisible life force

flowed through
the human body...

and this force keeps
the lungs breathing,

the heart beating,
the blood liquid.

He called that force
the animus...

the soul.

Decomposition
could only begin

once the soul had
left the body.

But we now know that
Stahl had it wrong.

But people back then
thought it was
cutting-edge science,

and used it to justify
their own superstitions--

that some souls
remain in their corpses.

And to sustain themselves,

those souls feed on
the living,

spreading disease
as they feast.

This strange combination
of bad science and folklore

was brought to America
by German Army surgeons

who aided the British
in the American Revolution.

When a town was
plagued by Consumption,

they would exhume
the corpses.

If they discovered flesh
that hadn't decomposed
sufficiently

or blood that hadn't
coagulated,

it could mean
only one thing:

the soul was still trapped
in the body.

The heart would be
surgically removed
and cremated.

Thus the soul would be
put to rest once and for all.

And the living would be safe.

[screaming]

[coughing]

He awoke screaming.

[gasping, coughing]

He's burning up.

-[coughing]
-Shh, shh.

-[gasping]
-Eddie.

Shh, shh.

[gasping]

-Shh.
-[gasping]

[thunder]

[coughs]
Mercy!

[gasping, coughing]

[panting]

[coughing]

[coughing]

Stay with him.

[coughing]

[groaning]

♪♪

[banging]

[banging]

[wind blowing]

[banging]

♪♪

[banging continues]

[squeaking]

We are practical men,

you and I.
Aren't we?

I don't believe in demons,
Harold. I know you don't.

[clears throat]

After all I've lost,
I barely believe in God.

God forgive me.

But Rose claims this remedy
saved his daughter.

Am I being... selfish

not to at least
allow them to try to

bring Edwin some relief?

The Germans discovered

consumption
is caused by bacteria.

I don't care about
the-- the cause,

I care about the remedy.

They told us
it was hereditary,

now it's a bacteria?

Next is a parasite.

I don't know
what to believe in.

You cannot
abandon your faith

just because you've
fallen on hard times.

That is what faith
is there for.

I know.
That's true.

But, at this point...

[sighs]

my belief is that
William Rose offers hope.

False hope.

He will fail, too.

If he fails, he fails.

But I'll know I've tried
everything in my power to
save my boy.

What are you willing to
believe in

if it makes you less human?

Will they forgive me,

my family,
my neighbors?

Could I forgive myself
if I didn't at least
let them try?

There's no medical science to
anything they are saying.

You're a good friend,
Harold.

You're my only friend
in this--

a good doctor.

But your medical science
has done... nothing.

[sighs]

NARRATOR:
George Brown lived in
a strange time

where scientific discoveries
were rapidly changing

how people engaged
with the world,

and how they imagined
the future.

Science was
producing miracles on
an unprecedented scale.

♪♪

And yet medicine
still fell short.

Doctors were often in the dark
when it came to knowing

what caused the diseases
that were ravaging so many.

Like the consumption
that had decimated
George Brown's family.

Though the bacterium
that caused the disease,
M. Tuberculosis,

had been discovered
ten years earlier,

as of 1892
there was still no cure.

Which left plenty of room
for less scientific remedies

to keep their iron grip
on people's practices
and beliefs.

Like the belief that
a heart, long dead,

could still exert
some sort of terrible power

draining the life
from the living.

[heart beating]

WILLIAM:
Now, any bodies we unbury and
find they have not rotted,

then it's proof they
walk the earth at night.

Who was the first taken?

My wife,
Mary Elizabeth.

Then that's where
we start.

May God understand
and guide us.

♪♪

[man grunting]

[wood cracking]

♪♪

SAMUEL:
Mary Olive died next?

♪♪

[grunting]

[coughing]

♪♪

-You have your answer.
-METCALF: Yes.

The answer is,
this is over.

You've seen
for yourselves.

Return them to their rest,

and go back home
to your families.

-Mercy.
-Mercy was alive when
her mother and sister died.

It can't be her.

But what if it is?

She'll come for
your boy.

She'll come for
our boys.

We have to know.

♪♪

Three months,

and yet her skin
is fresh

as if still taking
nourishment.

SAMUEL:
She's not dead.

Look at her.

At night she lives.

METCALF:
The body was kept in the shed

awaiting spring thaw
for burial.

The cold preserved her,
not a folk tale.

A demon would be smart
to use her.

She doesn't need to crawl up
from the ground.

We have no choice.

It must be done.

Samuel.

You will not touch her.

Don't you understand?

This is as much for her sake
as it is Eddie's.

If you do this then
Mercy can rest in peace...

and save your son.

What do I do?

Can you do it?

♪♪

[sawing]

[bones cracking]

The heart is where
the demon lives.

If we find fresh blood,

we'll know she carries it.

There.

You see it?

The blood is coagulated

as it should be after
three months frozen.

Then we can't take
any chances.

We must take the heart
and the liver...

to be certain.

WILLIAM:
Burn it.

Then make a tonic of the ashes
and give it to Edwin.

METCALF: A tonic?

It's how I saved
my daughter.

♪♪

♪♪

[coughing]

Take this.

I can't.
I can't.

I could never, I--

[coughing]

Listen to me.

[wheezing]

If it offers even
the slightest hope of a cure,

you know Mercy herself
would implore you to drink it.

Please.

If not for yourself,

then for me.

Come on, son.

This is where we are.

This is where we are.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.

I know, I know.

I'm sorry.

[panting]

Good job.

[panting]

NARRATOR:
The family waited for
the impossible,

and prayed for
Edwin's recovery.

♪♪

But on May 2nd, 1892,

almost two months after
drinking the tonic,

Edwin Brown passed away.

He was 24 years old.

George had taken
the extraordinary,

some would say
barbaric action,

to save his child.

And he'd failed.

♪♪

Newspapers condemned
George Brown and
the people of Exeter

as remnants of
a less enlightened time.

The articles mocked them
for believing

a monster could escape
from the grave.

And they gave that monster
a name:

The Vampire.

The story became
a tabloid sensation
around the world.

A clipping was found among
the papers of a writer.

The writer's name:
Bram Stoker.

And the book inspired by
Mercy's tale,

I'm sure you've
already guessed that.

Dracula.

♪♪

The vampire tale
quickly moved from
the printed page

to the Silver Screen.

And it's never
really gone away.

It's more than
a little ironic.

In many ways,

thanks to the efforts
of her father,

Mercy Brown,

the first American vampire,

is still alive...

today.

♪♪