Original subtitles

Subtitles by explosiveskull

There you are, you son of a bitch.

Drop your weapon now.

I'll shoot you dead.

Do it, hombre.

I was trying to stop the killer.

Oh, really? First the women start disappearing,

now half the town that isn't dead,

they've run away.

I know you're behind this.

No, there's someone else.

Look.

Don't you try to play me the fool.

This don't look like a high-class saloon to me, Christina.

Well, the job posting says they pay big money,

so who cares what it looks like?

Hello?

We're here about the job posting.

Hostesses needed?

Whores needed. Let's be honest.

They said hostesses needed.

Hostesses means whores, Christina. Don't be naive.

Hello?

Hello?

Someone posted a job notice

in all the Shasta County newspapers.

Hey!

We traveled four days to get here!

Don't be getting us fired before we get hired.

You know, I don't see anyone...

anywhere.

Hello?

Um...

Is someone here?

Do you see anyone?

I... I think I see a...

Help! Someone, help me!

Can you hear us? Please!

We are here with you.

You must look not let her...

Do not let her filth...

Answer the call.

Answer the call.

Answer it.

Look at that flower.

So beautiful. So beautiful.

So rotten on the inside.

Filthy rotten.

Like all of them.

Every single one.

Set her free.

Give her oblivion.

Oblivion.

End her suffering.

End her debauchery.

Make her bathe in pain.

Pain so sweet.

Give it to her.

Oh, my God.

Get away from me!

Stop it.

Oh, God.

No! No, no, no! No!

Your hands are clean.

Your hands are clean, dear boy.

You are sanctified.

Sanctified.

From Hell's heart.

From Hell's heart.

Do you your work.

Your hallowed work.

Never stop.

- No, no, no. - Never.

Never stop.

Miss Stark, my time's limited.

Professor Moore, thank God you're here.

What is it?

Do you remember the diary that they unearthed up in the sierras?

Hey, you're... you're not supposed to take these

out of the Archives Department.

I know, but they closed at five,

and I had to keep going.

I'll bring it back.

Why did you have to keep going?

I found something important.

What?

I think I may have solved the mystery of Jack the Ripper.

Miss Stark, I have a class to teach.

I know it sounds crazy, Professor Moore,

and you have every right not to believe

such a wild sounding boast, but it's true.

That's the diary of that freed slave woman.

Yeah, her name was Hannah, and she wrote about...

she wrote about her encounters with a ruthless killer.

I know. It's been the talk of the department

ever since it was found.

His name was Francis Tumblety.

She found his traveling papers,

and that's not all.

You know, I'm serious about that diary.

You better not get any coffee stains on that

before you return it.

I'll keep it totally safe, don't worry,

but please, just let me explain.

Okay. Make it quick.

Thanks.

Okay, so, I was asked

to digitize the text in this diary,

and as I was reading through it,

I started noticing more than a few similarities

between the killer that Hannah wrote about

and Jack the Ripper.

I only skimmed a report on this last week,

but if I remember correctly,

there was a murderer up in the mountains.

He killed everyone in a small mining village, correct?

Yeah, he killed everyone in that town,

and then he started placing help wanted ads

in all the surrounding area's newspapers.

Help wanted? For what?

Well, he was pretending to be a saloon proprietor

looking for hostesses to hire.

And since hostess usually meant prostitute,

you think that he was specifically

- targeting prostitutes. - Yes.

Targeting prostitutes like Jack the Ripper.

Exactly.

As a history student, you should be aware

that Jack the Ripper was in London, not here.

Mm-hmm. Yes, of course I know that.

And as you should know, he was never found,

he was never identified.

He just stopped killing all of the sudden.

Correct, but that doesn't mean or...

You know, I might not be a psych major,

but do you really think that Jack the Ripper just became sane?

That he was cured all of a sudden?

That he was just, like, "I think I'm gonna stop

doing all this killing and become a normal guy?"

I'm sure I don't know.

Jack the Ripper never stopped killing

he just moved.

So the Ripper's famous killing spree

was in Whitechapel, London.

In 1888.

- The Victorian era. - Mm-hmm.

So, he murdered prostitutes

and eluded the finest police force

on the planet at that time.

A police force that was using

forensic techniques to track him.

And still they didn't catch him,

but they came close.

Too close for his comfort.

So, he moved.

He fled to the U.S.,

and I have proof of this.

You have proof of the Ripper or Tumblety?

I have proof of Tumblety's escape from London to the U.S.

If he was the Ripper,

why would he come all the way to California?

It was the Wild West at that time.

Yeah, "Wild" being the operative word.

It was the 1890s.

People used to go missing here all the time.

Bear attacks, Indians, shoot-outs.

It was the Frontier.

So, you think the Ripper

sought out a place where the murders

would go unnoticed.

Yes, that's right.

There were policemen in the West.

Oh, yeah, tough lawmen to be sure.

But, I mean, they had no idea what the concept

of a serial killer was at that time.

And, frankly, they didn't really have the intellect

to outwit such a methodical man.

They probably couldn't even conceive of a person

who would kill for pleasure.

I have as a matter of record

that they were chasing the wrong man.

They even formed posses to help chase him.

Cease fire! U.S. Marshal.

I'm here for Mr. Buchinski.

So are we, damn it.

We found him first! At that reward, it's ours!

Get the hell on out of here, law dog!

This man killed two of my men,

including my brother.

There ain't no way he goes free.

There was only one lawman

smart enough to figure it out.

He was a Marshal from Shasta County.

I'm not here to arrest you.

I read the police report. I saw the evidence.

Let me see that badge.

You claim you didn't kill those women.

That's goddamn right.

You stated a crazy man did the killings.

He was more like a devil.

The correct term is psychopath.

But you're right, he is from Hell.

No, no, no, I'll do it.

No, don't go wandering off.

You'll get lost.

- You stay at my side. - Yes, ma'am.

Don't speak to anyone, understand?

Yes, ma'am.

Where is everyone?

Can't rightly say.

Ain't seen anyone since we got here.

Find the saloon proprietor.

And I need a room and whatever passes for a hotel here.

Yes, ma'am.

- Go! Now. - Yes, ma'am.

Hello!

These small town people have no manners at all.

So where can I find this crazed killer?

There's a little town up there somewhere.

What's it called?

It was abandoned.

I didn't catch the name.

I was trying to save my own hide.

But... but you remember

where it is, right?

You couldn't pay me to go back there.

Good, 'cause I'm not offering you any money.

Well, friend, then you got less than nothing.

Oh, I've got something, all right.

Something better than money.

I can offer you freedom.

See, I'm after the real killer.

You show me where he is,

I'll arrest him, bring him back.

That'll clear your name. And I can do it.

I know the magistrate who issued voucher on your bounty.

He's an old friend of mine.

I can clean this mess up legally.

Unless you want to spend the rest of your days a wanted man.

A wanted lady killer?

How far you think you're gonna make it

with that price on your head?

Let's go before I come to my senses.

Okay.

Let's get this bastard

and clear your name.

I don't understand.

Where are all the people?

Damn it.

Sons of bitches stole my horse.

Mine, too.

That means they'll be coming back.

Looks like we're walking.

Hello!

It's gonna be okay.

You want me to go look on the other side of town?

I said no. You stay at my side.

I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm just a little bit nervous.

I ain't never been this far from home.

You usually take your trips on your own

and leave me at the house.

Well, that's your problem, isn't it?

I can't leave you there unsupervised anymore.

Why not?

Don't play dumb with me.

You know good and well what I'm talking about.

Is this about the glass vase?

I didn't mean to break it.

That was an accident.

I'm not talking about an accident.

I'm talking about something you did on purpose.

- Then I don't understand. - Neither do I.

Where did I go wrong with you?

Who bought you that nice blouse?

You did.

And who braids your hair with the bows,

so you look all pretty?

You do.

And don't I read passages from the Bible every Sunday,

as you're not allowed at church?

Yes.

Then how, Hannah? How could you?

I thought I could trust you.

It's my husband! Mine!

I didn't want to do it.

Oh, is that right?

Because I saw you with my own eyes,

and it didn't seem like the typical case

of a rich man taking advantage

of one of his servant girls.

It was love making.

You kissed him, you caressed him,

like he was... yours.

- You saw us? - Yes.

I used the scope of Mrs. Stanton's rifle.

I saw you both clear as the day.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen.

I read a posting saying that the Carson Saloon

is paying top dollar for women willing to be hostesses.

And that's why I brought you here,

and I think you should work there for now on.

Doesn't hostess mean whore?

You practiced being a whore with my husband,

and now you can do it professionally.

Or you can find another job around here.

Either way, you won't be returning to my home

or my husband.

- Is that our horse? - Oh, no.

Where in hell is everyone?

Did the whole town just vanish?

Maybe we should start walking back.

It's too far, Hannah.

Do you even know how to get back? Which direction?

Do you want to get lost in the wild?

Even if we did know how to get back,

you think we can walk for days on end

in our Sunday dresses without a rifle?

Guess not.

Best course of action is to wait

for the townspeople to come back.

I don't know how an entire town decides to up and leave

all at same exact same time, but we have no choice.

And if the hotel people don't come back soon,

I will break in and make myself at home,

and they can charge me whatever they want.

Irresponsible idiots.

Why did our driver leave us?

I don't know.

I have no idea how to tell Mr. Stanton

that we lost one of his horses.

- He's gonna be mad. - Yes, he will be,

but that's no concern of yours.

My husband is of absolutely no concern of yours

- in any way, shape, or form. - Yes, ma'am.

Do you know that any other mistress

would have thrown you out on the street?

But not me. Do you know why?

Do you?

Um, did you think Mr. Stanton would come after me?

How dare you?

Do you think he would leave me for you?

No, ma'am.

Well, of course, you never know with men.

They are so stupid.

It's a wonder how they manage to rule the world.

Why did you think that anyways?

Did he tell you that...

he loves you?

It's okay. You can tell me.

It's not like I'm gonna be

more angry than I already am.

It's so hot.

Are you hot?

- Yeah? - Yes, a little.

Come... come here. I'll untie that for you.

This one always gets stuck.

Didn't I tell you to wear the yellow one?

I couldn't find it.

It was in the tall dresser. Bottom shelf.

It wasn't there.

Maybe it was out to wash?

Let's just forget about it. There you go.

So, now that we both are calm and comfortable,

you should go ahead and tell me the truth.

Did my husband, Mr. Stanton, tell you that he loves you?

Okay, I'll tell you.

He told me...

I just don't see a solid connection

between this Tumblety character

- and Jack the Ripper. - That's wrong.

I mean, only now do we have an account of Tumblety

committing murders here in the West.

Thanks to this diary.

And thanks to me staying up all night.

I have a match on his handwriting.

This is from Tumblety's medical school.

Tumblety was medically trained?

I always suspected Jack the Ripper

of being a surgeon.

Tumblety had dropped out of medical school.

I was able to get copies of his transcripts,

and this copy of his handwriting.

Oh, and this is a copy

of the famous letter from Jack the Ripper.

The only one that was ever deemed legitimate.

The handwriting matches.

That's my opinion, as well.

We'll, uh...

we'll have to get an expert, of course, to verify, but...

And that's not the only evidence

that links Tumblety to Jack the Ripper.

Before the murder spree, Tumblety went to the anatomical

museum in London, and he asked to purchase female organs.

And Jack the Ripper removed his victim's organs.

And I have other evidence, as well.

Tumblety was married to an ex-prostitute,

so that would line up with why he targeted prostitutes.

There's... there's a few other things.

My God, Lizzy.

This could be the man.

The same man.

This Tumblety person could be Jack the Ripper.

Where's the key?

It's not there?

He's looking for it.

Is that why he left?

Yes, I think so.

Now hurry. Find something.

Look!

I will reach it if you untie me.

When is he gonna come back?

I don't know, but it will be soon.

We have to work fast.

Wait.

Is he still looking for the key?

Here. Try to reach this.

Let me try something else.

Shh, shh, shh.

Hannah, find your way out of here and run.

There's nothing else you can do to save me.

Run!

No.

This is the place.

Where is everyone?

Either dead, or run away.

I'm the only one foolish enough to come back.

You're not a fool.

You just cleared your name.

You show this paper to any sheriff, judge, or city official.

You take this to anyone you can find.

It's my signed testimony of your innocence.

Are you gonna go back and get your men?

No time to get my horse.

I split my men up before I came out this way.

They're looking for that sick bastard, too,

although none of them know where to find him.

If I leave now and go get backup,

I might lose his trail.

I'll be your backup.

You understand you're free.

I do.

You understand you have no obligation to help me here.

I know.

Outstanding.

Take the long rifle and cover me.

I'm going straight in.

If you see him, you have my permission to shoot.

I only shoot to kill.

Then he dies.

- Ready? - Yeah.

You must...

hear me.

Hear me.

Hear our call.

Hear us.

Show her.

Show her your heart.

They are all filth.

All of them.

Every one of them sin.

Pestilence. Scourge.

No.

No, no.

- You must cleanse her. - Listen to us.

She likes to be afraid.

Yes.

She likes the acting out of the pain.

Oh, how she loves it.

She wants it.

Oh, yes.

Show her.

She's so warm, so soft.

- You will almost... - Almost what?

almost taste her.

You must illuminate her soul.

Illuminate her soul.

Let her see your soul.

She cannot see you.

Let her see the fire that burns.

The fire.

No, no.

Make her understand you.

She will never understand.

Let her feel the fire within.

Oh, the fire will burn us.

Make her understand.

She will never under...

Before you send her to oblivion.

No. No.

Oh, come on.

- Must... - Listen...

- cleanse her. - to us.

Show her.

Show her your heart.

You didn't think I was gonna let you go, did ya?

Not after you killed my kinfolk!

Come on, boys!

That reward is ours!

Vengeance is mine!

Who's there? Who's out there?

This woman, Hannah,

her diary,

it opens up a lot of possibilities.

She somehow survived an encounter

with a psychotic killer.

If Tumblety was Jack the Ripper,

she was the only known survivor.

The question we have to ask ourselves

with this evidence at hand,

did Jack the Ripper travel West to continue

his murderous spree?

And most importantly...

Francis Tumblety...

was he Jack the Ripper?

Subtitles by explosiveskull