All language subtitles for Vault.of.Horror.1973.1080p.BluRay.DTS-HD.x264-BARC0DE

Subbasement?

- I pushed ground.
- So did I.

Well, why didn't it open?

Looks like some sort of a club.

Never knew there was one
in the building.

This elevator has no push buttons.

And there's no way out.

Someone's bound to
come down here soon.

Why not make the best of it?

- Good idea. Let's do that.
- Why not?

Might as well, I suppose.

- Thank you.
- Strange situation.

Almost like a dream.

Dreams are much more
frightening than this.

At least mine are.

Really?
In what way?

Strange. Mysterious.

Unworldly.

Almost unbelievable.

Oh?

But so real.

One feels sometimes
that it's actually happening.

Why don't you tell us about it?

All right, I will.

Well?

You found her.

Where?

Where?

That's where she lives.

I didn't like the town at all.

Something strange about it.

And nobody knew I hired you?
Nobody saw you come here?

I'm good at my job.

Everything confidential.

Thanks.

Any time.

Thank you.

You're a stranger in town,
aren't you?

Yes.

It's getting dark.

You'd better get inside somewhere.

I'd like a menu, please.

I'm sorry, sir,
but we're closing.

But it's dinnertime, you can't
close before 7:00 at night.

It's getting dark.
We always close before dark.

They come out in the dark.

Who?

- Who's there?
- It's your brother.

Harold.

Come in.
Quickly!

- So you've found me at last.
- Mmm.

Took me a long time.

What do you want?

I've come to see you.

After all, you are my sister.

Why have you buried yourself
in a place like this?

Why is everyone
so afraid of the dark here?

- Because of them.
- "Them"?

There have been 17 cases so far.

Bodies found with every drop
of blood drained out of them.

Now, tell me why you wanted
to find me so badly.

Father died four weeks ago.

I've been looking for
you ever since.

You're his heir, you know.

You always were his favorite.
He left you everything.

For as long as you live.

No! No!

Good evening.

The table d'hote
is rather nice, sir...

juice, soup,
roast, sweet, coffee.

Sounds fine.

Ah, tomato juice.

Ah, yes, it, um, tastes
rather... strange.

It is our usual, sir.

Oh.

And now, how would you
like your roast clots?

Well done?
Medium? Rare?

Roast what?

Clots.
Blood clots.

No! No!

No! No!

Much better than the frozen stuff.

- Quite a nice bouquet.
- Mm-hmm.

- A good year!
- Very fresh.

I'll have a glass too, please.

A recurrent dream.

More.
Oh, much more.

It's hard to explain.

It's with me all the time.

Do you have a sister?

No.

No. It's just a dream.
We all have something like it.

And you...
what's your dream?

Why not his first?

My What?

Dream. Vision.

Phobia.
Obsession. Fear.

Whatever you want to call it.

My dream is a very peculiar one.

Very peculiar indeed.

But so real.

So real.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Well, Wilson, as they say,
congratulations are in order.

I'm going to get married.

At your age?

I've spent a lot of time
amassing a fortune, acquiring

a lovely house, filling it
full of beautiful things.

Now I need somebody
to look after them.

And me, of course.

- Who's the lucky girl?
- Oh, nobody you would know.

The daughter of a chum
of mine... Sir George Melsh.

Little Eleanor?

Well, she's not little now.
She's grown up.

Very charming, really.

But why on earth should
she marry you?

Well, I think of myself
as somewhat of a catch, really.

Very easy to get on with,
actually.

Eleanor.

Eleanor!

You've moved the furniture.

Yes, I thought it would
look better if I...

But you've moved the furniture!

I go for a magazine,
and it isn't there.

Darling, you must admit
it looks nicer.

But you've moved the furniture!

I'll never be able
to find anything!

If it bothers you that much...

Well, of course...

Of course it bothers me.

A place for everything,
and everything in its place.

That's how businesses run,
that's how societies run, -

and that is how
a home should be run.

Yes, Arthur.

Morning, my dear.
Sleep well?

What's this?

They're mine.

Yours?

What are they doing
in my drawer?

I moved your things
to your side of the bed.

But my underpants have always
been in the second drawer, -

on the left, folded up,
all the buttons on the top.

How can one live in chaos?

Come with me.
I want to show you something.

Come on.

No, no, this way.
This way.

Now, Eleanor,
this is my workshop.

I love making things.
It relaxes me.

But I couldn't make anything...

unless I kept all my things
neatly filed away.

Nails... size, length.

Screws... size, kind,
thread, diameter.

I know where everything is.

I just have to put out my hand,
and I find it.

And that, Eleanor,
is the value of neatness.

Yes, Arthur.

Why did you marry him, Eleanor?

Father had no money.
I had no ability, no profession.

What else was I to do?

Besides, he's quite nice, really.

- Except...
- Except for what?

Well, there's nothing I seem
to be able to do for him...

Except keep his house tidy.

Oh, darling, darling.
Don't go into the kitchen.

Come and sit over here.

I'll do the cooking tonight.

It's high time I illustrated to you
what a splendid cook I am.

Now, just sit down there,
make yourself perfectly comfortable.

I did a lot of cooking
when I lived alone.

Developed into
quite a chef, actually.

Oh.
Spaghetti Pomodoro?

Tomatoes.
Al dente, of course.

Mm-hmm.

Tomatoes.

Tomatoes...

No tomatoes. Hmm.

Ah. Puree.
Tomato puree.

Tomato puree...

No tomato puree.

"Spaghetti sauce". All right...

Eleanor.

Eleanor!

No tomatoes.
No tomato puree.

No spaghetti sauce.

- Nothing!
- I must have forgotten.

But there's no excuse to forget!
Come over here!

Come on.

My dear, inside the doors
of these cupboards -

is a list of all the items
in the cupboard.

Against each item
are three marks.

Now, every time you use
one of the items, -

you erase one of the marks.
This is the eraser right here, -

so you can never have
an empty space.

But, two marks, tomato puree.
No tomato puree!

Three marks, spaghetti sauce!

No spaghetti sauce!

You haven't even bothered!

Eleanor?

Eleanor?

Eleanor?

Good morning, darling.

- Did you do all this?
- Last night.

How splendid.

How absolutely splendid!

All correct!

Darling.

What a smashing breakfast.

Absolutely marvelous.

I could do with this.

I've a very hard day
ahead of me.

True, I'll be
back at 6:00 as usual.

He'll be back at 6:00.

Eleanor!

I wanted to hang a picture.
I came down for the nail.

You've messed up
my whole house.

Can't you do anything neatly?
Can't you?

Can't you do anything neatly?
Can't you do anything neatly?

Can't you?

Can't you do anything neatly!
Can't you do anything neatly!

There, Arthur.

You said I couldn't be neat.

But I was.

I tidied up everything
after I finished.

All neat and tidy.

Everything in its place,
and a place for everything.

And are you neat and tidy?

Not more than anybody else.

- And yet...
- Yet what?

It's all so real.

I know the feeling.

I've had it often with...

What?

I'll tell you.

I have before me
a magic basket...

Blessed by the gods
of the temple.

I open it.

Akbar!

I give you my Blessing!

May the gods protect you
from all danger.

Pray for the soul
of the one within.

The gods be praised
for this mystic miracle.

And now...
for demonstration -

of supernatural power
of human body...

to withstand pain
through the power of mind.

- It is a trick.
- No pain.

Mystic power of yoga.

Excuse me, please.
Excuse me.

The real one is in his sleeve.

No gods. No supernatural powers.
No yoga.

Just tricks.

Huh?

As a fellow magician, -

I can assure you of that.

Oh, it's hot in here.

And that doesn't
seem to do any good.

Darling, why don't we
just pack up and go home?

Ah, we wanted to see
the land of ancient mystery.

Well, we've seen it.
There isn't a mystery in sight.

There isn't even
a new trick for our act.

Let's give it another day or two.

How much?

How much do you want for
the trick? Name your price.

There is no trick.
The magic is in the rope.

Okay, then, sell me the rope.

I cannot.

It was my mother's, and her
mother's, and her mother's.

I'll give you...

40,000 rupees.

It is not for sale,
not at any price.

Of course it's a trick.
It has to be.

But I examined
the basket, the rope, -

and I couldn't see
how it was rigged.

And she wouldn't sell it?

If I couldn't figure out
how it worked, -

no one else would be able to.

It could be a sensation.

We've got to get it.

Uh, the trick
you showed me yesterday...

- No trick.
- Of course.

Uh, the magic you showed me...

I told my wife about it, -

and she wondered if you
couldn't show it to her.

No, you know, my wife is ill, -

and we wondered
if you couldn't come -

to our hotel room.

I'll pay you 200 rupees...

Just to show it to her.

Thank you.

Just a moment.

Come in.

This is my wife, Inez.

I am sorry you are ill.

Thank you.

We'll put her in the trunk later.

Let's see what the trick is first.

She said the secret
is in the rope.

But it isn't hollow.
There's no wire in it.

Nothing!

Look!

Keep playing!
Keep playing!

It holds me!
I can climb it!

And now, -

Just as it will be
in our act...

Inez! Inez!

Where are you?

I have before me...

A magic basket...

Blessed by the gods
of the temple.

I'll open it.

Akbar?

I give you my blessing.

May the gods protect you
from all danger.

You look as though
you've seen a ghost.

There are no such
things as ghosts, -

Except in magicians' illusions.

Well, I have a similar vision.

- Do you?
- Similar fear.

Similar, but not quite.

It begins in a graveyard.

In a grave...

A freshly dug grave.

My grave.

Buried alive.

How did it happen?

I remember now.

I remember.

It's a surefire plan, Alex.

Now, this will cut down
my pulse and heartbeat...

My entire metabolism...

So that even the best doctor
will think that I'm dead.

Now, these are pills I'd be taking
if I had a heart condition, -

so it'll look as though
I've had an attack.

There'll be no trouble
getting a death certificate.

Now, you must make absolutely
sure that I'm buried -

not more than 24 hours
after I... die.

Then all you have to do
is wait until night, -

dig me up...
and I'll hide at your place -

while you collect
the insurance money.

And we're off and away.

You know, it would have made
a really great story.

But I'd have been lucky
to get £50 for it.

There's no money in horror.

And once you've collected the
insurance money, friend Alex, -

I shan't need you anymore.

The perfect plan. Perfect.

The perfect plan, -

except for one thing.

I'll never learn it.

I will never pass
the anatomy course.

Mmm.

Trouble is, we can only work
in the dissection room...

for the short periods
we're assigned to it.

If only we had
a body of our own.

What?

Well, we could work on it
when we wanted to.

Mr. Maitland.

Mr. Maitland?

Damn it!

Sorry if I gave you a fright.

You got the money?

After we get the body.

- What do you want his body for?
- We're ghouls.

Air giving out.

Hurry, Alex.
Hurry!

Watch where you're
throwing it, will you!

Eh?

- Throw it that way!
- Oh.

Sorry.

Did you hear a cough?

- No.
- No.

Should be just about
waking up now.

I wonder how long it'll take
before he realizes...

his friend Alex isn't coming.

Alex!

Hurry!

Oi!

You can give me the money now.

He's all yours.

Sorry about the head.

A preposterous story.

It seemed so real.

- Almost as if...
- You were going to do it?

But why that one?

Why that particular nightmare?

Why are you interested
in his nightmare?

It's yours that you're really
concerned with, isn't it?

Mine begins on an island.

A tropical island.

The island of Haiti.

Hey.

Hey!

Well, don't you remember me?

Bob. Bob Dixon!

What are you doing here?

I had some business
in Port-Au-Prince.

I heard your name
mentioned in a bar.

How's the work going?

Not bad, I think.
Self-portrait.

But, like all my work...

it'll be scorned,
considered worthless.

What do you mean, worthless?

I saw one sold only a
few weeks ago for £5,000.

5,000?
Sold by whom?

Arthur Gaskill, in his gallery.

He sold it on behalf
of Lawrence Diltant.

But why such a price?

Your pictures!
They've been highly praised...

by no less an art critic
than Fenton Breedley.

Fenton Breedley?

Fenton..

Hello?

- What do you wish?
- To buy voodoo.

Why?

To get revenge
on those who wronged me.

- What do you do?
- I'm an artist.

Put the hand you paint with...

into pot.

- No.
- You want voodoo?

You must do it.

Now what?

Will I get a little doll
to stick pins into?

You are artist.
You don't need doll.

Now go.

This will get me to London, -

and then you'll get it all back...

And lots more.

Thanks.

Glad your old studio was available?

Yes.

- Nice to see you back.
- Thank you.

- Thank you.
- Oh, I bought the safe -

exactly as you said
in your letter.

And, uh, here's the combination.

- Thank you.
- Oh, I brought you some -

milk and bread, in case
you wanted a cup of tea.

Yes, yes. Thank you.

You cheated me.

You cheated yourself.

If you had any faith in your
work, you wouldn't have listened -

to what Fenton said about your
paintings or what Arthur said -

about their salability.

You wouldn't have sold them
to me at the price you did.

- You were all in it together.
- That's the way of the world.

You buy cheap, you sell dear.

And pay a critic to tell lies
so you can do it.

No. You cheated me...
All three of you...

And I'm going to have revenge.

Fenton Breedley, art critic, -

you saw my pictures...

and you lied about them
to the public.

Now, Mr. Art Critic, -

you will never see
another picture...

again.

I tell you, she doesn't mean
a thing to me.

How long have you
been seeing her?

Look, darling, it doesn't mean
I don't love you.

You're my wife. But we're
living in the 20th century now.

You'll never see
another woman again!

Arthur Gaskill, art dealer, -

you lied to me.

You told me that my pictures
were worthless...

and that you
couldn't handle them.

You won't handle
anything again.

No, no, no. That's not the way.
You're doing it all wrong.

Look.

I don't know why we employ you.

Now watch.

Like that. See?

Just use your intelligence.

I'll show you once more.

See?

No! No!

No!

Now, Mr. Diltant, -

you... can wait
until tomorrow.

Mr. Moore is here to see you.
He doesn't have an appointment.

Tell him to come in.

Then you can go.

Read about them then?

Now it's your turn.

You have two minutes...
to live.

Don't move.

Just want to show you something.

It's only a pen.

A red felt pen.

Taxi!

Taxi!

That's your story.

Well, we all have our cross
to bear, haven't we?

But it seemed so real, -

almost as if it happened.

- Happened?
- Or could.

You think that our fears...

could be a sort of warning?

A warning of what may happen?

Nonsense.

Where are we?

That's how it is...

and how it always will be.

Night after night, -

we have to retell...

the evil things we did...

when we were alive.

Night after night...

for all eternity.