All language subtitles for Interview.With.The.Vampire.S01E05.1080p.AMZN.WEBRip.DDP5.1.X264-NTb

"Man with green vest--
'Please, no.'

Man with fat fingers--
'Please, stop.'

Window washer--
'I can't die like this.'

Woman with purple shoes--
'Please.'

Boy with inner tube and dog--
'Let my dog live.'

'Please, no.'

'Please, stop.'

'Stop.'"

Oh, here's a good one.

"Man in the last row of 'The
Son of Sheik' picture show--

'You said
you had cigarettes.'"

It's a kill list.

Yes.

In a teenager's handwriting.

The final words
of her victims.

There are 42 pages,
if I remember correctly.

"Schoolteacher--

'Guard your heart.'"

I'm trying to think
of something

more fucked up than this.

And how is your work
any different?

Well, what do you think
will happen to Mr. du Lac

when you publish
this book,

when the other vampires of
the world get their hands on it?

As long as they pay
full freight.

They will make their way
to Dubai.

They will scale the sides
of this building,

force their way inside,

and paint the walls
with his blood.

You are chronicling
a suicide.

Do not look down
on Claudia.

Look in the mirror.

Rashid is an opinionated
young man.

He lives to share
these opinions,

even when they
are not solicited.

What's he taste like?

I didn't ask that.

You were thinking it.

- Stay out of my head.
- Honey and pineapple.

He stuffs himself
with both for days

before
he offers himself to me.

Would you like to sample?

I'll wait till Damick
comes around again.

I'm a savory man
most days.

I care for him more than
he cares for himself.

And I wouldn't let you
near my neck if you were--

62 1/2 kilograms.

What?138 pounds for
the metrically challenged.

Daniel here was wondering
how much you weigh, Rashid,

so I told him--Stay out of my head.

Sleep, pray, eat, pray,
swim, pray, et cetera.

On days he's a plump 139,
I believe he swims twice.

Metronomic, my Rashid.

Refill.

Louisiana's
a closed records state.

- And that means?
- It means that

I can't browse
the mortality data for 1923.

You wouldn't find the
corroboration you were seeking

even if you could.

We burned.
We buried.

And a convention city
is not motivated

to advertise
grim statistics.

Session five,

Louis de Ponte du Lac--For Claudia,

all humans
died with Charlie.

As for scale...

I was skeptical, too.

I thought she was
on a hunger strike.

It's been months.
Her meals are too meager.

What if you bring one of
your kills into her room?

We could tie him up
next to the coffin--

She's not surviving
on birds or nocturnals, Louis.

She waits for
that slither of time

when I'm on the hunt
and you're gone round the back

to make nice
with the ratcatcher.

Or she's slowly
starving herself.

Bon.

I know what I'd do,
but you've cut my hands off.

My parenting is--Sadistic?

So save your words
when it comes to Claudia.

She's in there
'cause of you.

Ca suffit!

Voilà.

Comme je dit.

She's dining out,
as I said she was.

Ah.

Ah.

Don't do that.
It's private.

Ah.

"Dear Diary,
am I gonna be a virgin

every single time
I do it?

Won't my skin down there
grow back like my hair

does when I cut it?"

Jesus.

Old Man: What...

What night is it?

I couldn't hear you
over the tugboat.

What--
What night is it?

January 5th.

January.

Always thought
it would be summer.

Aah!

A whole lot of concern's been
wasted on you these past months.

You read my--All of it.

Whole families,
half a parade crew.

The incinerator
will be overflowin'.

The smoke alone
would blot out the moon.

What did you do with 'em,
Claudia?

Did you read my other ones?

No.
I did.

Inked with ungratefulness.

Where are the bodies?

Well, then, I guess
you better hope and pray

you taught me
how to clean up good.

Where are they?

You gonna let him
do this to me?

I read some passages out loud,
I'm afraid.

Hurtful words for both
your guardians.

I didn't mean harm, a-and
the bodies are just preten--

Stop lying, Claudia!

I buried them, okay?!
Way out of town.

Nothin' out there
for miles.

No one's ever gonna find 'em,

except maybe criminals
burying bodies of their own.

I'm never gonna forget
what happened here.

I hate you both.

- Where out of town?
- Chalmette.

Now get out of my room!

Chalmette's three feet
below the river line.

So what?!
Get out of my room!

What happens when the next
storm comes out the gulf?

Over here!

The Christian
ran to Atlanta.

I've been tapped
on the shoulder

from the long arm
of Baton Rouge, I'm afraid.

They're promising I only
have to be in session

'bout a third of the year,
but a promise for Baton Rouge

is what my wife would call
"a pig in a turnip field."

I don't know what
it means either.

I mean, you can't count on it,
is what I'm getting at.

And when you have been tapped
on the shoulder

from Baton Rouge--You want money?

I mean, it's always
a straight line with you, Louis.

Yes.

Yes,
I am asking for your

and Mr. Lioncourt's support
in my campaign

for the Louisiana House
of Representatives.

A grubby business, politics.

Also devoid of dignity.

But there's one of those
Temperance fartknockers

runnin' again.

And, well, look at us--

a city of a thousand saloons
shamed into the shadows.

Look, that's
Chief of Police Bardeen.

Maybe I should buy him a round,
ask him why

there's double the cops
walkin' the Quarter lately.

Our recent unpleasantness
in the Ninth Ward.

The floaters.

I read about that
in the papers.

Six bodies, was it?

Six?

Try 56.

Fleet of corpses like it
was a judgment come.

- But they're still digging.
- Drowned?

"Must have drowned
in the hurricane."

First words out of my mouth
when I got the call.

But I'll tell you both
somethin',

because we're old friends.

Every single one of
those corpses

had some soft part
of it lopped off.

Finger here, a foot there...

a toe.

Hell, one poor woman
was missing her left...

Mama!

Only the left.
Don't be shy.

Go on ahead,
just take the whole set.

Sounds like there's
a maniac on the loose.

Most of the poor fools
they hooked out of the bayou

are former inhabitants
of the Quarter,

so don't be too startled

if the police come
knockin' on your door.

It's just a routine look-see.

You didn't invite us here
for a campaign donation,

now, did you, Tom?

Tapped on the shoulder
from Baton Rouge.

Tapped on the shoulder
from the Fraternal Order.

Both things can be true, Louis.

One each.

Good evening, sirs.
My name is Deputy Habersham.

Uh, am I speaking with
the owners of this townhouse?

You are.

And can you explain
your presence in it?

Well, we've had a few citizens
go missin' from Rue Royale--

a young maid,
not two doors over.

[Strained] Oh, dear.

We're goin' door to door,
looking for malefactors, uh,

lurking about.

Your daughter let us in.

I was in the middle of cleanin'
when they knockered.

"Us"? "They"?

Oh, I have a few deputies
searchin' the premises.

Uh, makes for a more
efficient intrusion.

Why don't you finish your chores
upstairs, young lady?

You often leave
your daughter alone

with access
to illegal spirits?

Deputy #1:
Deputy Habersham!

Found this, sir.

What is it?

It's an incinerator.

What is it incineratin'?
Yard clippings?

Waste.

Refuse.

We sell incinerators.

To various
American cities.

Mm.

Where garbage collects,
rats congregate,

infection breeds.

The problems can waylay

even the most formidable municipalities.

And we bring our clients here

- to demonstrate the product.
- Hm.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

Shh!

This one's locked, sir.

That's my daughter's room.

Well, what are you waitin' for?
Knock it down.

Oh! I'm getting ready
for bed!

Excuse me, miss.
Oh, my!

Now, it is my sworn duty

to notify the dry agents

as to the wine cellar
on the premises.

I will refrain from contacting
the Child Welfare League,

but I don't like
what I've seen in this home.

And we'll make sure
Police Chief Bardeen is informed

how his men
conducted themselves

in the home of law-abiding,
taxpaying citizens.

You know, I'd add
a second bed to the boudoir

before you two
go making accusations.

I have no doubt you could
carry the fines,

but crimes against nature,

that comes with a five-year
prison term if convicted.

We'll be watching you,
Mr. du Lac, Mr. Lioncourt.

Have you lost
your goddamn mind?

- Souvenirs.
- Overnight in a jail cell
with no coffin.

We do not bring souvenirs
into the house!

- All be dead by mornin'.
- Of course,
that's what she wants.

So much wine in his blood.

You wanted her,
you fix her!

And beer and whisky.

We're doin' this
together.

Do you remember our life,
how happy we were before her?

Happy?
We were not happy.

An anvil,
tied around our ankles,

pulling us towards
the pitch-black ocean floor.

Who am I supposed to love?

You two have each other.

Who's my Lestat?

Who's my Louis?

I'm not human.

Wh-- What human would want me?

Perverts?

Like the uncle at
the roomin' house

who used to watch me pee?

Or little boys?

And 40 years from now...

still little boys?

How are you gonna fix it, huh?

Which one of you gonna fuck me?!

Well, you're not my type.
I like a fuller figure.

- Lestat!
- She's being impossible.

Why can't I make one?

No matter how much blood
I give them,

they just lie there gaspin'.

What is this? Look at me.
What have you done?

Did you try
to make another?

Boy from Ponchatoula.

Boy from Hollygrove.

Boy with the bow tie
out in Algiers.

Claudia, how'd you figure
this was gon' go?

- Make me one.
- Because you turned out
so well.

'Cause if you don't,
I'm gonna go out there

and find other vampires.

If you could find them,
which you won't,

they would shred you
to strips,

because you are built
like a bird,

because you are a mistake.

How 'bout
you shut the fuck up?!

He treats us like shit
and you take it!

Why is that?

And you, cruel as the devil
ever made,

to refuse me one love
when you've got two.

White girl, down in Algiers,
sings torch songs with a flat,

no-nothing ass.

Been following you,
Uncle Les.

You ain't been
your careful self.

He's gotten tired of us,
Daddy Lou--

the housewife
and the mistake.

I've been
entertaining myself.

Amusing my...

I don't know
if you remember--

Antoinette.

I'll kill her soon.

Don't.
Don't-- Don't run off.

I know we made some--Mistakes?

I remember the night I was made,
the fire chokin' me,

you carryin' me out through
the flame and the smokes.

But then
why'd you take me home?

Why not a hospital?

You--
You were barely breathin'.

But I was breathin'!

Maybe I'd have a handsome
husband by now.

Or maybe he'd be plain
but with a good disposition.

That'd be fine, too.

I'd be sweepin' floors,
makin' dinners, nursin' babies.

Maybe I'd go to church.

You think on that some.

I had no words for her.

What words were there?

"It all happened so fast."

"I was trying to save you."

"All vampires are born
out of trauma."

We made her
out of remorse...

out of selfishness.

Poor dear.

She wasn't held enough
in between ritualistic murders.

She spent every night for half
a decade with no friends,

locked in
the emotional storm of puberty.

Look, Charlie Manson wrote
a couple of beautiful songs.

Still,
he was Charlie Manson.

Is that
all you think of her?

Mostly.

I also think
she makes you and Frenchy

look like a couple of whiny,
existential queens.

Probably why she's
a fuckin' gold mine.

The girl who moves
a million books.

I won't
have her exploited.

Won't matter what
your intentions are.

It's the world out
there now.

She's the-- the...

single-shooter, Xbox,
mouth-breather shit they crave.

You can put the diaries
in a proper context.

Context?

Sure.

Warn the world
about a forthcoming apocalypse.

Or maybe inspire a line of sexy
Claudia Halloween costumes.

Or a cool
dismemberment trend

amongst the suburban
Sylvia Plath set.

Once you put it out there,
they decide what it is.

It can get away from you.

Keep reading.

Keep talking.

Claudia's night rambles
had exposed us.

Assume we are
under suspicion.

Assume our finances no
longer provide us protection.

Make your kills outside
the city, one a night,

no persons of note--
unfortunates, undesirables.

No more incinerator,
new locks on the doors,

shutter the windows,
no parties...

no friends. But her absence
would lay bare

who we were without her--

a simmering pot of resentments.

We should leave the city,
start anew,

turn a betrayal
into an opportunity.

New York, Chicago,
Los Angeles.

Paris.
No.

Mm-hmm.

We should
- dismantle her room.
- You don't touch her room.

- She'll be back.
- No, she won't.

There would be
no Roaring Twenties for us.

We would be underground
for seven years.

Emotionally, I was vacant.

I longed for Claudia.

I ached for her.

I walked the streets
of New Orleans

with the shifting masses
of the unfed,

the addicts born of despair...

...sending out telepathic
thoughts of remorse

in every direction.

But she had shut her mind off
to me for some time then.

And so I was left
to revisit old haunts,

desperate for connection.

"Claudia, come home."

"I know I hurt you."

"I know I can make it
right again."

Little girl. Little girl,
I'm talking to you.

I don't talk to strangers.

Now, what were you doin'
in the library?

You're not allowed
in there.

My mama works here.
She cleans classrooms.

I read
while she's cleanin'.

You can read?

Oh.

Just as I thought.

Little thief.
You're comin' with me.

What are you gonna do
after that?

- What?
- After you turn her in,

after it makes you
feel like a big man,

what's your next move,
you think?

You are not allowed to ride
one of those things on campus.

You can't read.

I can't ride.

This guy
knows all the rules.

This is our school.
Where is your fightin' pride?

You hungry?

As the depression set
in on the nation,

I barricaded myself within
the dilapidating walls

of 1132 Rue Royale,

educating myself
from Lestat's library,

ignoring all other duties
of the role

Claudia once mocked me for--
the unhappy housewife.

Flaubert's style
is so dense.

Louis Armstrong's in town
tonight, playing at the Pelican.

Should we make it
a night of the two Louis?

The absence of metaphor
is so striking.

You sound like ever pompous

Sorbonne student
I've ever eaten.

Should I do like you
instead?

Read the first 10 pages
of every book,

pass myself off
as cultured?

Well, at least,
- you're listening.
- Use my middling command
of literary canon...

I sit there thinking,
"Light yourself on fire,

see if he would notice."...to impress
some hapless human

I'm gonna kill
in a few hours anyway.

You draw me
into your gloom.

It's your fault she's gone.

If you hadn't pushed her... Claudia.

If you hadn't done your--Claudia, Claudia.

I cannot listen to this insanity
about Claudia one more time.

I took an unsavory delight
in provoking Lestat...

...but it was a cheap satisfaction.

As the tourist carriages
rode by,

whispering tales of the weird
brothers who encamped inside.

Used to work
for Mr. Henry Ford in Detroit.

Sent about 20 of us over
to a place called Copenhagen

and build a factory.

Met my maker walkin'
the harbor one evening.

Trouble punchin' the clock
after that.

How'd you get back home?

Faked my own death.

Shipped back on a boat
in a coffin.

Naw.

Got to hear
my own funeral.

Naw.
No lie.

Only a couple dozen people
showed up,

most didn't have
much to say.

Started talking about
the weather a few minutes in.

Almost got myself buried alive.

Poor fella diggin' my grave
lies restin' in the family plot.

What was he like,
your maker?

Strange.

European.

We didn't get on much.

You and I are runnin'
from the same thing then.

Is that who's callin' out
your name every night?

Is that Louis?

You heard his voice?

I thought I was
the only one stateside.

Then I heard him
callin' out.

"Claudia, I'm sorry.

Claudia, come back."

It ain't like that.

- He's more like a dad.
- I thought,

"Oh...

now there's three of us."

Got me wonderin'
what it'd be like--

ride with others,
hunt in a pack.

Mm, a little gang of vamps.

Little fang gang.

You got a name?

Parents named me Bruce.

Bruce?

You don't kill
like a Bruce.

What do I kill like?

You kill like a...

like a killer.

You like books, right?

I got a book.

You're welcome to it.

Got it off a girl
a little older than you.

Not the kind of book
I'd read.

Thanks, killer.

There's good things
in that book--

manners, how to be
a nice young lady.

I manage just fine.

Mnh-mnh.

You've been sloppy out
in Jefferson City.

How long
you been followin'--

You shouldn't dump bodies
in the Missouri.

Even if you weigh 'em down
with rocks, river's too fast.

I find you build
a shallow grave,

sometimes a prairie wind'll
catch, burns faster.

How long you been--About five,
six colleges or so.

How'd you do it?

I had good ears
when I was alive.

Got great ears now.

Heard your name in the air.

Somethin' about the way
it sounded.

Clau... di...a.

How old are you,
Claudia?

104.

Always had a fondness
for older women.

You're gettin' a little
close there, Bruce.

Aah!

You are bein' rude!

Wha--
What'd you do that for?

'Cause you were gonna run away,
and I knew you'd regret it.

Ooh, mama.

"Courtesy demands that you,
when you are a guest,

shall show neither annoyance
nor disappointment...

no matter what happens."

There are four pages
torn out.

I'll repeat myself.

I will not exploit her.

Did she tear them out?

Doesn't seem like something
she would do.

It's clear what happened.

And she wrote about it,
and I'd like to read it.

No.

When you do that, Louis,
when you editorialize,

however noble the reasoning,

it calls into question the other
shit you're shoveling my way.

Or-- Or-- Or maybe you can
recite it from memory,

as you've
demonstrated before.

Uh, let's see.

"Bruce walked back from the fire
and leaned down over me and..."

Torn out pages--

Don't ask again.

Mr. du Lac occasionally finds it
difficult to talk about Claudia.

Got that.

Mr. du Lac would like
to apologize

and continue with the interview,
if you are in--

Still recording.

"Rash of mysterious deaths

at university libraries
perplex authorities."

Listen to this.

"Housekeeping staff
of Vanderbilt University

tried to rouse students
who appeared to have

fallen asleep
at their studies,

only to discover that they were,
in fact, deceased.

Similar incidents
have been recorded

at the College
of Charleston,

Lincoln University
in Jefferson City,

and the University
of Alabama."

It's her.
It has to be her.

It could be her.

But I am the one
who is presently

standing in front of you.

And unlike Claudia,

I am
a full-blooded adult...

...with all
the right appendages.

So, if my
considerable considerables

continue to be squandered...

Two crime scenes,
seven deaths.

Close proximity.

Cause of deaths,
for reason, under investigation.

Coroner's office...

I'm sitting on the same balcony
where you used to write...

...and I'll sit here forever...

...looking down both ends
of Royal Street...

...waitin' for your return...

...for your forgiveness.

Hello?

Sorry, I...

No, no.
It's good to hear your voice.

Yeah,
I-I could meet you.

We're, um...

We're headed north.

Crash cleaned us out.

And don't offer,
because I'm not asking.

Levi found some work
near Boston.

We feel blessed
for the work.

You look good.

Don't need that either, Louis...

or whoever you are
that took my Louis.

It's me, Grace.

I sat across the dinner table
from him my whole life.

The pews in St. Augustine's
on Sunday.

Hid my fourth-grade
report card on purpose.

'Cause his was so bad

and he didn't want
our parents to find out.

You're not my Louis.

You can't be.

I prayed myself old,
beggin' what to do about you.

God never talked back, so...

...this is
how it has to be,

for me, for my family.

You understand?

"I spend time
following Louis and Lestat

now that
I am my own woman...

with no obvious sense
of why I follow them,

other than meaning slowly
disintegrates without them...

...my companions
in immortality.

But today,
at the cemetery,

I finally understood
something so obvious,

which I pondered
for a decade...

...why they made me.

To be Louis' sister."

Thank you.

The prodigal daughter.

I've come to apologize.

I put you both
in a bad spot.

I wasn't right
in my head.

I am now.

Apology not accepted.

How was college?
Magna cum?

Summa cum?

Phi Beta Kappa?

I've read a lot of books.

Started with Persia and Babylon,

the old gods
who longed for blood.

A lot of it was popcorn,
but a few old tomes.

A Romanian tract on "vampirs."

A strange old Hungarian text,
"Masticatione Mortuorum,"

the "chewing dead."

I plan to leave for that part
of the world as soon as I can.

So, quick stop home
to do laundry

before you fuck off
for good.

A quick stop
to pick up Louis.

Oh.

Perused a few folklore anthologies,

and now you're going
to cross the ocean

and take on a society
of monsters.

If what I've read
is lies,

then tell me what's true.

Seven years
and what's changed,

other than you need
a housekeeper?

The vampires out there...

are vicious.

Oh...

...but you've learned that already.

Who did you meet out there
in the American hinterland?

Read her, Louis.

That's it,
keep 'em scared.

That's his way.

The vampires in Europe are much,
much worse.

But I think he's scared.

I never asked.

How did Charlie taste?

Like the love
you'll never really know?

And when he's scared,
he ridicules.

She was
a destitute little girl,

destined to live
an inconsequential little life.

And we took it from her.

We cursed her.

Come with me!

Come with me, Louis.

- Lou.
- I thought I could live
without you,

- but I was wrong.
- Louis.

Louis! His love is a small box
he keeps you in.

Don't stay in it.

A thousand nights
of sulking,

and the first sight of her,

you are just gonna up
and leave me?!

Please, come with me!

Let's be vampires
worthy of your love!

Aah!

Get the fuck off her!

Aah!

Stop!
Don't you touch!

Aah!

Aah!
Cheri, let's stop this!

You don't want to fight
like this anymore.

I am trying
to restrain myself!

Stop!
Please, stop!

Don't do it!

Please!

Stay back, Claudia.

It's okay.
It's all good.

Daddy Lou...

It's okay.

We're done.

I'm-- I'm right here.

I'm...

It's over.
S-Stay where you are, okay?

We had enough.

We just...

need a moment here.

Just...

Aah!

Louis, no!

I fought myself
a million times,

fought my nature...

...controlled my temper.

I never once harmed you.

Uncle Les!

It's "Uncle Les"
now suddenly?

Let him go.

He didn't do nothin'.

Let him go.
It's me you want.

Listen to me,

and listen very carefully,
my infant death.

It was never you.

I chose you.

Louis!

I have waited, Louis.

I have patiently waited
in vain...

...for you to love me...

...as I love you.

Just say it.

Say, "Lestat, I am never going
to love you."

It would help me
a great deal...

to hear that
from your lips...

...your quivering...

hateful lips.

Let go of me!

Anything for you.

Louis!

♪ Your home is where
you're happy ♪

♪ It's not where
you're not free ♪

♪ Your home is where
you can be what you are ♪

♪ 'Cause you were just
born to be ♪

♪ Now they'll show
you their castles ♪

♪ And diamonds for all to see

♪ But they'll never show you
their piece of mind ♪

♪ 'Cause they don't know
how to be free ♪

♪ So burn all your bridges

♪ Leave your whole life behind

♪ You can do what
you want to do ♪

♪ 'Cause you're strong
in your mind ♪

♪ And anywhere
you might wander ♪

♪ You could make
that your home ♪

♪ Just as long as you've got
love in your heart ♪

♪ You'll never be alone

♪ Just as long as you've got
love in your heart ♪

♪ You'll never be alone,
no, no, no ♪

♪ You'll never be alone