Original subtitles

[Crowd shouting indistinctly]

Abigail: No! No, no, no! No, please!

Please! Please! No!

[Spits]

Burn her! Burn her!

No! You know me!

I am a God-fearing woman!

Burn the witch!

Abigail: No! Please!

Please!

Man: Abigail Goodwin!

No, please!

Having been found guilty of consorting with Lucifer,

you are hereby sentenced to baptism by fire.

No. No, no, no.

No, I know not the Devil.

'Tw-'Twas sickness took my husband!

Burn the witch! Burn her!

No, I beg thee!

Have mercy!

No!

Who will take care of my daughter?

Burn her! Burn!

You will burn.

[Whimpers]

Lord, Lord, have mercy on my soul!

[Screams]

[Screams]

[Panting]

[Voices whispering] Abigail.

Abigail.

Abigail.

Abigail!

No! No!

[Screams]

♪♪

- Synced and corrected by hawken45 - - www.addic7ed.com -

Good riddance.

Oh, no.

You're moving out?

No.

I mean, you can if you want to, yes,

but some things are gonna change around here.

I am talking "Wizard of Oz" wallpaper.

Sweetheart, I'm not moving.

I'm just boxing this stuff up

and taking them to the attic, that's all.

What about the curse?

Ar... Aren't you gonna need the books and Mom's weapons

to fight all the demons?

As a matter of fact, I will not.

Do you, uh...

Do you know who this is?

Bobby Orr.

That's right.

I direct your attention to his head.

Notice the boyish thatch of chestnut-brown hair,

which is unadorned by a helmet.

Nowadays, helmets are mandatory.

They won't even let you on the ice without a helmet.

But for Bobby, no helmet, no nothing...

just his roguish charm and his skilled stickwork.

And I know... I-I know what you're thinking.

How did his head not get pulverized

by a puck traveling 90 miles an hour?

Because he didn't believe it would happen,

so it never did.

And that's what I'm doing from now on.

Bobby Orr's helmet... you don't believe you'll need it...

you never will.

So what are you putting in here?

My hockey memorabilia.

This is going to be my own personal hockey museum.

The pièce de résistance is...

Bobby Orr's helmet.

No.

That... That was the whole point of my lovely story.

Th-There... There is no helmet.

Yeah, but... the way you were talking about it,

it just sounded like the perfect thing to have.

Right, but how... how... how could I have it

if... if it doesn't exist?

That... That goes directly against

the whole Bobby Orr's theory.

However, what I do have is one of Bobby's sticks.

It was chucked into the crowd after a game-winning goal

with no time left on the clock

against the Detroit Red Wings in 1972.

It is [inhales deeply]

it is my prized possession

and the last remaining source of joy

that I have on this planet.

Oh.

Give or take.

Well... if it was in the attic, it's gone.

Mom donated everything to the church.

What?

See? Ta-da!

Dad?

I got to go back to the church.

Like, right now, or in life?

[Whimpers]

♪♪

Come on!

May I help you?

Who the hell are you?

I beg your pardon?

Where's Father Mike?

Oh, he's on sabbatical.

Went to Wisconsin to visit his dear...

Now, listen, you.

You got something of mine and I want it back.

My wife, God rest her soul...

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...

before she was stolen from me by your boss,

she accidentally donated my hockey collection

to your church.

- Oh, yes. - Yeah.

And a remarkable collection it is, too.

As a matter of fact, Father Michael blessed it

just before he left.

Yeah. Well, that's Father Mike up and down.

Christ sake, that guy'd fart in the tub

and bless the bubbles.

I say God helps those who helps themselves.

But son of a bitch, God didn't have to help himself

to my hockey memorabilia.

Now go ahead. Go get it!

I'm sorry. It doesn't work that way.

Listen, you. My wife made a mistake.

She gave you something of mine and I want it back.

Now go ahead and go get it.

That's the law.

- [Clears throat] It is? - It is.

Mr. Miller, I don't want to have to call the sheriff.

Ah! I am the sh...

Oh, son of a bitch!

[Clears throat]

Oh, I'm going to a concert tonight, so I got to leave early.

No, your shift ends at 8:00 p.m.

Yeah. That's why I said I'm leaving early.

Tonight at the Garden... the surviving Bee Gees.

I think there's two of 'em.

Guess I wasn't aware you were into disco.

I'm not.

But I am into aging party chicks

- trying to relive their glory days. - Oh.

Maybe they'll come down with a little "Saturday Night Fever"

and Dr. Leon will have to take their temp

with his disco thermometer.

That's implying I'd go home with them and have sex.

Get out.

[Telephone rings]

Willard's Mill Sheriff's Department,

cursed since 1693.

Oh, Sheriff Miller... he retired.

Oh, really?

Wow.

Stan's about to assault a priest.

Have fun with that.

Pew!

[Humming]

[Clatter]

Pew. [Chuckles]

♪♪

Stan: I had no knowledge of this contribution.

Nothing! You weren't here.

Mike was here.

I'm surprised he ever accepted this to begin with.

This is my blood. You've taken my blood.

- You're familiar with... - What's going on?

This knob won't give me back my hockey stick.

What?!

His late wife donated something

for our charity auction, and I'm of the belief

that we should honor the wishes of the departed.

My wife is dead! I am alive!

Alive beats dead every time!

Listen, you.

He has my Bobby Orr stick.

Who's Bobby Orr?

Did you just say, "Who's Bobby Orr?"

Did... Did you actually just say that to my face?

The Boston Bruins. Bobby Orr.

He scored 139 goals in 1971.

The only defenseman to ever win a scoring title.

He changed hockey, Barret.

[Chanting] Number 4, Bobby Orr!

- Number 4... - Stan...

- last week... - Bobby Orr!

- You and I found out that we share... - Number 4...

a 400-year-old curse

and you shrugged it off.

But this... this is... this upsets you, a stick?

Okay.

He was born in Parry Sound, Ontario,

just a wee lad with nothing more than his skates and a dream.

And then came the ice of winter.

Go home.

Look, kid, no disrespect,

but if this mackerel snapper thinks he can take...

Go home!

I will get your stupid little stick if,

and only if, you go home right now.

Not another word!

Mush, little husky, mush!

[Groans]

[Chuckles] Hi.

You're new in town.

Yeah. Um, wow.

Believe it or not, that's...

that's actually my predecessor.

He's a very spirited man.

Ooh. And then some.

Look [clears throat] is there any way...

- He can have the stick. - Really?

It's with the other auction items in the basement.

- Please. - Oh, great. Thank you.

Thank you.

♪♪

Jesus.

I see.

Sorry.

Dee-aye rey-oos nah-thrak.

[Gasps] Father Donovan.

Die-mas be-thed nah-thrak.

Dee-aye rey-oos nah-thrak.

Die-mas be-thed nah-thrak.

Dee-aye rey-oos nah-thrak.

[Voices whispering] Evelyn.

Evelyn.

Evelyn.

- Evelyn. - Stan?!

- Evelyn. - Anybody?!

Evelyn.

Evelyn.

Evelyn.

[Telephone ringing]

Hmm.

Willard's Mill Sheriff's Department.

Please whisper.

Leon, put that woman on the phone.

Evie isn't here. I just got in.

I met this woman at a show last night.

Did y'ever meet a lady who's, like, just laughing

and then she starts crying,

but then she goes back to laughing?

And then she starts crying?

Leon, where's my stick?

Can you describe it?

[Phone banging]

It's a stick! It's a wooden stick!

Okay. I'll get right on it.

Goddamn donkey.

♪♪

[Voice whispers] There's nowhere to run, Evelyn.

There's no place to go.

- Miss Barret, is that you? - [Gasps]

K-Karen?

Don't be mad. [Laughs]

Karen, what is this?

Don't be mad, okay?

[Laughs evilly]

There's no point in running.

- There's no place to go. - No! No!

No! Please.

No!

Where the hell am I?!

Please! I have to get back!

I have a daughter!

[Voices whispering indistinctly]

♪♪

All right, here's the plan, sweetheart.

You go get Donovan to take your confession

and once you get him in there,

man, you take the largest guilt dump

in the history of confession.

Most important thing is,

you got to keep him busy while I'm looking for my stick.

What do I have to confess, though?

I-I haven't done anything.

Well, I don't know.

Make pretend you're Whitey Bulger.

I-I don't like Whitey Bulger.

Why can't I be somebody cool?

Like... Jesse James?

Jesse James was a...

- Yes. Yes. - Oh.

- Why, that's a terrific idea. - Yeah.

Just make sure you killed one hell of a lot of people

and you feel just terrible about it.

Aw. Yee-haw!

Yee-haw.

Shut the God... Oh, forget.

I-I-I'll just press the automatic shut-the-door button.

Oh, that's right. There's no such thing!

Love of God.

Who are you? What is this place?

My name is Abigail Goodwin.

This... is the space between spaces...

the realm between the land of the living

and the realm of the dead.

How do I get out?

There is but one way.

It is the Master

who keeps us here trapped in this place

before summoning a demon from the pit

and binding it to our very souls.

Yeah.

I should be writing this down.

What did you mean about the... the binding of the souls?

Sorry.

The Master needs us to give form to his minions.

That is our only escape.

Uh...

Why are you helping me?

'Cause I was once a mother.

[Voices whispering indistinctly]

- [Organ music playing] - Denise: So, there I was,

in the Dodge City Saloon,

one eye on the door, one eye on my cards.

I'm holding three aces.

I play it cool, but not too cool.

And in walks none other...

than Tall Man McGee.

Our brother who sent you to us,

he has taken on the guise of a Catholic.

Father Donovan?

A shepherd bearing only his rod and staff

- confronted the demon. - Mm-hmm?

He pierced its heart with his wooden rod.

Okay?

If your companion can defeat the demon

in this manner before it banishes him,

then you will be set free.

Uh, we're not really like a rod-and-staff kind of culture any...

anymore, though.

Okay.

All right, where are you?

If I were a priest hiding a stick,

where would I...

Oh.

There you are, my precious.

♪♪

Holy shit. Father Mike.

- [Body thuds] - Denise: So, I says,

"What's the matter, McGee? You scared?"

And he says, "Yes," and starts crying.

Well, then, of course I start crying,

and now we're both standing there sobbing.

You okay over there?

You're awfully quiet.

Father Donovan: Dee-aye rey-oos nah-thrak.

Die-mas be-thed nah-thrak.

[Knock on door]

Dad, you in there?

[Knock on door]

[Doorknob rattles]

[Knocking continues]

You in there?

[Knock on door]

Dad? Oh.

[Grunts]

Ow! Ah!

Organist: Young lady, are you all right?

There is no one downstairs, child.

Bring her outside.

Oh. Okay.

So, they start singing, "How Deep Is Your Love."

And this chick turns to me and says,

"How deep is your love?"

[Chuckles] And, you know, I'm like,

"You wanna go out by the Dumpsters and find out?"

And she's like, "That's not what I meant."

And I'm like, "What... What... What did you possibly mean?"

And she's like, "Forget it." And I'm like, "No, seriously?

What else could you possibly mean?"

[Telephone rings]

Oh, wait, hold on.

Yep?

I need you to get down to St. Agnes

and bring your shotgun.

We got to kill the new priest.

♪♪

Yes!

Wait, is this about your stick again?

Do you trust me, Leon?

No. But I'm afraid of you.

That's just as good. Five minutes.

♪♪

Oh, jalapeño, baby.

- [Scream in distance] - What was that?

They found us.

Hey, padre.

Now, you're gonna tell me where Evie is,

or I'm gonna rip you open like a bag of Pop-Tarts.

♪♪

You like that, don't you? [Grunts]

Oh, shit!

Oh, no.

What is that?

Our souls are about to be bound.

I'm so sorry.

And here, I thought things were looking up for us.

[Groans]

Dee-aye rey-oos nah-thrak.

Dee-aye rey-oos nah-thrak.

Dee-aye rey-oos nah-thrak!

[Both breathing heavily]

Backup has arrived!

[Gun cocks]

[High-pitched scream]

Oh, Constable, hear me!

You must pierce the demon in the heart

with a wooden staff!

[Grunts]

Aah!

You're going to explode.

Yeah.

[Gasps]

[Voice whispering] Abigail.

Abigail.

Evelyn.

Oh! God! Oh!

Called it.

Huh.

[Chuckles]

You sacrificed your Bobby Orr stick to save me.

Hey. Good.

I'm glad that...

you know, you're not...

Yeah.

Sure.

Hey, um...

you too.

Yeah.

[Chanting] Number 4, Bobby Orr.

[Laughs]

Number 4, Bobby Orr.

Bobby Orr.

[Laughing] God.

[Exhales deeply]

Rest in peace, hallowed defender.

Rest in peace.

Sorry, Stan.

Yeah, they just don't make 'em like Bobby anymore.

Only player to win

three consecutive Hart Trophies for league MVP.

[Clicks tongue]

You were messing with me?

I'm from Belmont, ya knob.

Oh.

♪♪

[Crowd chanting] Bobby Orr! Number 4, Bobby Orr!

Number 4, Bobby Orr!