Original subtitles

23.976 English RETAiL DVD Subrip NTSC � 29.08.2021

"To live...

is to battle with fiends...

in the vaults of heart and mind.

To write:

that is to sit in judgment over one's self."

Ibsen said that.

He was right.

Jesus!

Come on, baby. Come on, baby.

Come on! Come on!

Shit! Shit!

Jesus!

I'm learning one good thing--

that if you're in trouble or hurting...

go to the poor people.

They're the only ones who understand.

The only ones.

She holds his face in her hands.

"Don't mess with the bosses," she tells them. "They'll beat the hell out of you.

If they do, they figure you're the one who started the trouble at the plant."

Tom shakes her.

"I'm doin' it," he says "because I have to.

Because it's for you, and me and all the souls that want a better life.

That's what makes it right!"

- I hear a voice. Two flashlights fall-- - Excuse me. One second.

Hi. Put her through.

Hi, honey bunny.

No, I'm in a meeting with a young writer.

You don't know him.

Mmm, I love that outfit.

Uh-huh. Okay. See you tonight.

Go on, Bruce.

I hear a voice.

Two flashlights fall on them, blinding them.

The voice comes out of the darkness. "Stand where you are...

you slippery red bastard."

Tom stares blindly into the light. He says, "You leave her alone.

I'll take you all. You don't understand what you're doing."

She's trying to drag him away because she's frightened for him.

They hear the sound of a dozen footsteps...

see them break through the undergrowth.

"There he is, the red son of a bitch!"

- Tom turns to face him-- - Bruce.

- He dies, doesn't he? - Yeah.

That's right, he dies. And this--

As I told you before, people go to the movies to see winners.

How am I gonna sell that?

I'm trying to be helpful, Bruce.

But you have to understand.

It's okay to have a loser in plays.

I love plays.

But the public doesn't want to see a loser on the screen.

Movies are more than just a great business.

They're our social responsibility.

I'd rather starve than write most of the crap that I see on the screen.

Bruce?

That's what you're doing, isn't it?

Okay, Evan.

Okay.

There must be something I can write...

that doesn't need a happy ending.

I'll call you.

I'll call you, okay?

Bruce, the door!

Serena?

Serena?

Oh, hi, Bruce. I didn't see you.

Right, right. Bruce.

- You remember. - Don't hassle me. I said I'd call you.

You haven't called me in seven months.

Write something I can sell. Then I'll call you, okay?

Come on. You know I'm a good writer.

You write what you want, not what I can sell. I'm late.

Bruce?

Write something that grabs me between the legs.

Write something that makes me laugh, makes me scream.

Write something that makes me call Mel Gibson.

Sweetie, feelings, morals, all that sweet-smelling shit...

went out with the bullet with two Kennedys.

Two bullets.

Whatever.

If you want to talk to me, you know where to find me.

If you have any new ideas, my ears are always open.

It's all a compromise, Bruce.

We've all got to compromise.

Oh, thank you.

These are delicious.

You wanted to see me?

Yes, I did. Yeah.

- Seems we've got a little problem here. - Oh, yeah?

How long are you workin' for Reeb Realty now?

About six months?

And you haven't turned over a single shithouse.

I'll do my best. You've got my word on that.

Tell you what I'm gonna do.

I got a house here. Fine house.

You sell that house, and you're set.

I'll remember you for this, Stan.

Don't remember me. Do a good job.

I will. I promise you that.

Keep me posted.

- You take care. - Thanks a lot. Oh, Stan.

I'm short on the rent. I need to borrow some money.

Could I have a few dollars?

You know, Bruce, if you got anything, you got balls.

Hey, what are you guys doing?

- What are you guys doing? - You're outta here.

- This is my shit. - You're evicted.

You're full of shit! Gimme my stuff.

You sons of bitches.

Let me in there. Let me in there!

Shit!

Mrs. Reeb? Hi, it's Bruce.

Is Stan there?

Great. Can I talk to him?

Stan, hi.

It's Bruce.

Yeah, Stan...

I just got evicted.

I really need to borrow some money.

Stan. Stan, I got nowhere else to go.

Where am I supposed to stay, Stan?

Stan? Hello--

Allison. She's a possibility.

Nancy. Nancy would be great. Nancy.

No, I think she's-- Nancy's married now.

Shit, she's off.

Who else?

Betty, Betty. Betty's good, Betty's good.

No, she-- No, she hates me. Oh, Christ!

I gotta get out of here.

I gotta get out of here.

What the fuck is this?

The Davenport house.

Hello, baby.

Thank you. Thank you.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

A free place to stay.

I always believed deep down that when things go bad...

they're gonna get worse.

Like someone once said...

in L.A. you can find sympathy...

in the dictionary...

and everything else in the drugstore.

It could be a story about a hooker.

Yeah, she-- She, um--

She gets-- She gets killed. No, we've seen that.

How about a killer cop? We've seen that about a thousand times.

I know, I know. A killer robot...

comes to Hollywood, takes over the major studios...

and he becomes the number one guy in town.

And all he does is cast Mickey Rourke in films.

Everywhere you go, you see Mickey Rourke.

"Hi, how ya doin'? What's the matter with you?

Why you so fucked up?" Everywhere you go, Mickey Rourke.

Mickey Rourke this, Mickey Rourke that.

People start killing themselves. They see these Mickey Rourke films. "Why?"

Yeah, I think that'll sell.

It's a big hit. I'll send it to Mickey.

The door was open.

I was wondering if you had a room to rent.

I've been looking for an apartment.

Yeah, well, maybe. Maybe.

You wanna come back tomorrow? Now is not-- It's not a good time.

Okay. But maybe about the apart-- the room?

Yeah, maybe. Maybe.

That's great. Great.

Okay.

What I particularly like about that kitchen is there's enough space...

so you can put as many appliances in there as you really need.

Say you need another freezer or something, which I like to have.

Um, now in terms of the breakfast--

Disregard these antiques.

Antiques?

All right, here we go. This is a lovely room.

This is the dining room.

It's decorated with great taste, don't you think?

Oh, yes.

Is there anything wrong?

He did do-- He did do it here?

- What are you talking about? - We just got into town.

We heard all about it.

About what, for Christ's sake?

Jack?

Wanda, don't worry. He's just putting you on.

No, really, I'm sorry. I must've missed something.

What are you talking about?

The Carrols! This is where he killed all those Carrols!

Surely you've heard about it. He must've used an axe or something.

- Chopped 'em up into a thousand pieces. - I read about it in the paper.

- There was blood everywhere. - I don't wanna hear any more.

I don't want to hear any more, please.

Thank you for coming by. Please.

Well, if that's the way you want it, of course.

Sorry. We just-- Sorry.

Hi. Is this...

Moretti?

Is this Moretti's?

Thanks.

Hi.

Serena?

Back here, baby.

Does this look like $1,200? Okay.

Then I'll take that. So, go on.

- What? - The pitch, Bruce, the story.

What you couldn't tell me on the phone. That too.

It's a story about a guy. His name's Tom.

He's a really good guy. He has a dream.

Shit! Bruce, dreams?

By the time I come out of here, I want that dream to be gone.

Okay, time's up.

I'll have that. Give me something dark, okay?

That's it. Dark!

You didn't let me finish the story.

People don't give a shit about dreams anymore. They just don't.

You've gotta give them what they want. You gotta give me--

Give me-- I don't know. Give me madness, Bruce.

You know? Or give me...

blood.

Yeah, that's it. That's what they want.

Give me blood.

- I'll take everything but the hat. - Very well.

Hello?

Hello.

Blood.

Blood.

Yes. Yes.

That's exactly it.

Is that what they want?

Oh, yes, then I'll give it to 'em. Yes!

Yes, yes, yes! I'll give it to 'em.

Yes! Yes! I'll give it to 'em. Yes!

"Similarities have been established between the Davenport slayings...

and the Harris murders six years ago.

Both families were wiped out.

Just as in both cases no sexual motive can be established...

as neither the Harrises' or the Carrols' bodies were ever found."

"It was not until the following day...

that detectives found the entrance to the cellar...

where it was believed the bodies were dismembered."

Jesus Christ.

"In cases as bizarre as the Davenport killing...

every detail in the investigation...

must be gone over again and again.

Even though eight years have passed since the killing...

no new light has fallen on the case.

The motive remains obscure...

the key evidence elusive."

"This shadow killing has tormented detectives...

haunting their personal lives with a deathly stain...

on all who come in contact with this story."

Come on. I'll show you the bedroom.

I don't know if this means anything to you...

but this was Ricardo Montalban's original Hollywood home.

Really? He's my favorite actor.

Really?

Fantasy Island. Greatest show ever made.

It's got its own bathroom.

- How much are you asking? - It won't be for long.

I've got a book deal.

- You a writer? - Yeah.

Say 350 a month until I get my advance?

That'd be fine.

We could do it by the month.

- Whatever. That'd be great. - Okay.

So--

Enjoy. Come on. I'll show you the house.

...to catch intelligent psychopaths, as often...

they leave no trace of motive, making it necessary...

to reconstruct the murderer's thinking.

Somewhere out there a killer is living an ordinary life--

eating, drinking, maybe reading articles like this one.

In the case of the Davenport killings...

evidence of sadistic concentration on female members...

lead detectives to believe that the killer was male.

I just made up some coffee.

Would you like a cup?

I'm working.

Yes, I'm-- I'm sorry.

Pardon me.

Society...

wants to believe it can identify...

evil...

or bad...

or harmful people.

But it's not practical.

You see, there are no stereotypes.

The thing is that some people...

are just psychologically...

less ready...

for failure...

than others.

You been here long?

In L.A.?

Oh, I was--

I was in Las Vegas before.

I worked at one of the casinos.

Which casino was that? I hate those places. Noisy as hell.

Oh, I, uh-- I had a room to myself....

where I'd clean the chips, you know.

They spit on them...

for good luck.

I never tried that.

Maybe I should have.

Maybe I should spit on my book for good luck.

I'm sure it's quite good.

Yeah, well, we'll see.

Good night.

Good--

Good night.

It's dynamite.

You've done something wild.

Surprised me-- You really did.

Good.

And it's true, right?

It's the real thing, right?

And you're talking direct to the source, right?

I can get you such a deal, you won't believe it.

This could be a best-seller.

Where is he?

Who is he?

I can't tell you that.

No, I guess not.

Hello. Serena Black's office. May I help you?

You think you can get me a book deal?

Seriously?

I'm damn sure of it.

You know, you've come a long way since Poetry and Lies.

- You read that? - You don't remember?

No.

You read it to me in bed. You don't remember?

Look, Serena, I think I should tell you something.

Forget it.

Go home, write your book...

let me call New York.

I love you.

Serena Black's office. May I help you?

All right, I'll transfer you.

Yes, she'll be delighted to know that. All right.

- All right. Okay. - Shit.

That's right. And this guy, the murderer...

is telling him his story.

No, it's unsolved. I know. I love it.

It's so hot.

Yeah, I think-- Uh-huh.

I need to talk to you.

Yeah? Deal.

We did it.

We got a deal.

It's fiction.

I'm making it up. It's pure fiction.

I'm not hearing this.

You told me it was the real stuff, I sold it as the real stuff.

- Don't fuck me around. - You gotta call 'em.

Call New York and tell 'em, okay? You gotta call 'em.

Let me tell you one thing. Okay?

You're a failure! You can't sell your work!

I don't care where you got it. You made it up? Great.

But my deal with the publisher is, it's the real story...

sold to you by the real guy.

Got it?

I lied.

I lied.

Who gives a shit?

Just shut up and do it!

I don't think you understand something.

I'm writing the whole thing. I'm making it up.

Okay.

They don't want to know that!

It's the murderer's confession they're interested in.

Got that?

Your name on the book means zilch.

I'm sorry.

Zilch.

"Name means zilch."

"Name means zilch."

What a fuckin' day.

Hale!

Hale!

We better get some things clear in this house.

I don't want to hear you in the morning. I don't want to see or hear you anytime.

You got that? Jesus.

I read your book.

You did what?

- I read part of your book. - You did what?

Get this straight, Hale. Never!

Never go near my work again. You go near that room again and you are out!

You understand that? Out!

Right.

I got you.

Got you.

You don't mind?

No. The garden looks like shit.

Listen.

I'm sorry I was hard on you this morning.

That's okay.

You wanna come in for a drink?

Come on. My treat.

Okay.

- Here, come on. - No, no.

No. I never drink alcohol.

"Men put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains."

Oh,Jesus. What's that from?

Othello. It's from Othello.

That's right. Oh, Jesus.

I used to know all those quotes, always spurting them out all the time.

"Who is the third that walks always beside you?

There's always another one walking beside you.

But who is that on the other side of you?"

I don't know that one.

Eliot, T.S.

I work at a supermarket.

I never forget anything.

Manager...

at a supermarket.

That's great.

I guess I'm gonna get back to work.

I won't disturb you then.

Help me, Bill.

Help me, help me, help me.

"Is this a dagger which I see before me...

the handle toward my hand?

Come, let me clutch thee.

I have thee not, and yet...

I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision?"

Fatal vision.

Thinking of giving her a paint job next?

It's the least I can do.

Not working today?

No. I was just wondering how I would get in...

if I wanted to kill the people inside.

There isn't anybody inside, Mr. Simmons. We're all out here today.

Call me Bruce.

I'm sorry. Bruce.

Well, I guess most likely you'd just walk right in the front door.

I read that somewhere.

People-- they usually know who they're going to kill.

They know them.

Something crazy, like eight out of ten.

You seem to know a hell of a lot about it.

I'm sorry, I was just--

I was just trying to help.

Nothing personal.

It's true, though, Mr. Simmons.

Do you mind if I joined you?

No. Go ahead.

You know, it's true. Statistics show...

that murderers most times, they know their victims.

Doesn't make sense.

Well, they'd have their reasons, I guess.

They had something against the person or persons.

I mean, people can hurt one deeply, you know?

I may be crazy, but this was one of the hardest years of my life.

I'm gonna be 30 in a couple of days.

I just hate workin' on this stuff.

Well, your book is so good.

- You think so? - Yeah.

Everything about it.

- It's just that-- - What?

Well, I--

Remember I told you about my memory? I never forget anything?

I've done a lot of reading since I've studied psychology...

and I don't want to appear presumptuous, but I'd like to help you here and there.

- It might be fun. - Jesus Christ! Look at that bastard.

You see him?

See what I mean?

Even he knew where to find him, and when.

You have to think like the hawk, you know...

not the swallow.

Filthy bastard.

It's all right, Bruce.

All human activity...

moves towards a manifestation...

of God, you know.

What the hell you talking about?

Everything we do...

everything they do...

has no meaning...

until God shows his face.

You ever seen his face?

Bruce?

See his face?

No.

Of course not.

"Everyone that is found shall be thrust through.

And everyone that is joined unto them...

shall fall by the sword.

The children also shall be dashed to pieces...

and their wives ravished."

That's what it says.

Enough for tonight.

Hey, you. I miss you.

Come over here and give me a kiss.

Whoa, I'm not feeling you, writer man.

That's better.

I'm glad you came.

Don't look so scared, Bruce.

You get your check next week, and you've got me right now.

Hey, you don't want to, don't.

You know what we got today, Bruce baby?

We got women who want, can't.

Men who aren't.

It's the book. I've got problems.

Who hasn't?

We've all got problems. So what?

I'm dealing with a lot of shit right now, Serena.

Listen to you.

You and your fucking artistic sensibility.

You should be kissing my ass.

I got you your deal.

I got you what you've been whining about for so long I lost my memory.

I did it.

Ever occur to you what I had to give up?

Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I wanted...

roses around the door and a baby?

And what are you, huh? You're nothing.

Nothing-- just like me, sweetheart.

In this town, we all lose our way a little bit.

Gives us a barrel of gold and then...

cuts off our fingers so we can't count it.

To win, we all have to lose a little bit.

Tough shit.

Eddie?

Surprise! Surprise.

Jesus Christ. You scared the hell out of me.

Happy birthday. I'm not much of a singer.

You didn't have to do this.

It's not even my birthday.

It's tomorrow, Eddie.

Tomorrow's my birthday.

Well, it's too late now.

Blow out your candles.

Come on now, blow 'em out.

Blow 'em out!

- Okay. - Make a wish.

Great.

Oh, I forgot the plates.

I'll get 'em.

I always felt that life was kind of like an elephant.

You know. I liked it. I loved it sometimes, but--

We could never see eye-to-eye. It was--

It was just too big for me.

You understand?

Yeah, yeah.

I was like that.

My family was great about it.

Me being a loner.

Funny sort of kid.

Always staring at the moon.

Did I ever show you a picture of my sister?

No.

Here they are.

Look, man.

She's a knockout, isn't she?

They look perfect.

Perfect.

Mine all died in a crash.

Jesus, Eddie.

Sad.

Sad, sad, sad.

Well, come on.

Let's get our minds off this sad stuff.

Feel like doing some work?

The story. Let's do that.

Now, I was thinking.

I saw some-- I've got some clippings of the house.

So Eddie and I became friends.

Days slipped into long nights.

Sometimes he made me feel uncomfortable...

when his mind crossed over into mine.

He knew my hopes and dreams and terrors.

Nothing separated us anymore.

We clicked into place like a jigsaw puzzle...

two minds after one end-- the book to end all books.

Yuck. Yuck, yuck.

What's this?

Oh, it's a doll I found outside. It was the little girl's.

She needs a bath.

I wonder what it was like that night.

Well...

he obviously watched them, all right?

They were unaware.

Perfect urban household.

Perfect couple and their kids.

That's great. I like that. I like that a lot.

And him watching like the angel of sorrow, just like you wrote.

TV on, the roast cooking through there in the kitchen.

- Jennifer pouring Chad a drink. - Scotch.

Do you think the murderer could have been jealous, maybe?

Angry?

You ever love a woman, Eddie?

- Me? - Mmm.

It would have to be something important...

for him to kill the whole bunch of them, don't you think?

Maybe, maybe not. I mean, it could have been in himself, you know.

Building up.

Something about them seriously interfering with his ability to survive.

I know that sounds mad. I read that somewhere.

Bundy, at school.

I was at school.

And sex?

He'd have some deep problems with sex.

Sex could be a factor, I guess.

There you go.

Listen, if this is getting to you, you know, all this stuff...

you can just go ahead and do what you have to do.

I'll take care of it.

No. No, I--

I want to help you.

It's important that you get it right.

Why?

I'm making the whole thing up.

Who's gonna care?

You are.

You'll care.

Work.

Work.

Put that back on the shelf, will you?

Sure.

The Davenport killer...

seems to have been more typical of a serial murderer...

with a ritual that might break down into key phases.

How to put it in his own words.

When I first entered the Davenport house to kill...

time seemed to slow down.

Sounds and colors became more vivid...

odors more intense...

and my skin became sensitive...

to even the slightest pressure.

The aura phase begins as a prolonged fantasy.

The killer acts out the thrill of the crime...

in his own mind.

Every stranger who crosses his path becomes a performer in that fantasy...

until an emotional trip wire...

is snapped.

Shit.

Morning, Eddie.

I'm gonna make some breakfast. You want some?

You okay?

You want me to call the market?

- Hello? - Hi. I'm a friend of Eddie Hale's.

He was sick today. He'll be in tomorrow. Okay?

Las Palmas Market?

Yeah. Your manager, Eddie Hale.

He'll be in tomorrow. He was sick today.

Hale? We don't have a Hale here. Our manager is a lady.

Is this the Las Palmas Market on Sunset and Fairfax?

You got it. No Eddie Hale here, buddy.

Wrong place.

Therefore I will set free your body from its evil desires, you bitch.

Do not offer the parts of your body to sin--

- No! - But rather offer yourselves to God.

Fucking-- As those who've been born from death to life.

And offer the parts of your body--

Bitch. You ungrate--

What better than you would be untied from the things you are now ashamed of?

Those things which result in death.

Stop it, fucking bitch.

Now that you've accepted your sin, you can become close to God.

Busy day at the store, Eddie?

Terrible.

Terrible day.

What?

What's wrong?

It was you. Wasn't it?

- What are you talking-- - Shut up.

It was you.

Yes, Bruce.

You're writing my story.

I did it.

It was me.

I'm calling the police.

It's no use running and telling, Bruce. I'd be gone.

I'd be long gone. Nobody!

Nobody...

catches me.

Don't torture yourself, Bruce. Don't you see?

Don't you see we're linked now? We're linked now forever.

We are bonded by this secret.

I only did what you always thought of doing.

These ordinary, ugly, suburban people...

who go in for the lowest...

the cheapest thrills.

Junk. Junk!

Hang up and try your number--

Couldn't sell them the sweet dreams, now could you?

So I killed them for you.

I killed them for you and for me.

Okay.

What have you got to lose now? I'm here. I'm here for you, for your book.

My story, my life!

My life!

Everything you've ever wanted.

Your fortune.

Success.

Isn't that what you want? Money? Recognition?

Fame?

Money, fame.

Fame!

Fame? Money? Fame, Bruce?

Where are you going?

� Mr. Simmons

� Are you not

� Gift for you we got

� It is money big

� For the work you did

� From New York City

� And your agent, pretty

� Huge amount

� For your account

Be happy, 'cause here's much applause.

Bruce, could you pass me those pages, please?

Sure.

I bought something for you.

I don't want anything.

You'll like this.

Like it?

Do you like it?

You must keep the faith, Bruce.

You were late again this morning, Bruce.

It's hard for me when you're not disciplined.

It's not good for our concentration.

You know, to verbalize these sensations...

it's very dangerous for me.

Now, you have to respect that.

Bruce. Bruce, are you listening?

Bruce, are you listening?

Five for you. Do you want another drink?

Play.

Why can't we be friends?

Being with you is beyond my worst nightmare.

Well, that's too bad.

If we're here to work, let's work.

I want to play cards.

Where'd you hide the bodies, Hale?

There were no bodies afterwards, actually.

The Carrols wanted more garden, you see.

The pool was being filled in.

So...

that's where I left them.

To grow.

I'll raise you 20, and I'll take one.

Bruce, is something wrong?

- What is it? - I've gotta get some air.

Too much for you, Bruce?

Too much for you.

Too much for you, Bruce?

Well, I win...

'cause you quit.

I remember them all, every detail...

perfectly.

Every breath, every season.

It began with the Winter girl.

Then the next one was...

this Belgian girl.

That was tenth grade.

And that was rough.

How about you? You like them, don't you?

You're not talking?

You're not talking?

Well, I hated her.

She was a nightmare.

She wasn't the last.

There were others.

Always others.

Always, Bruce.

Always.

Where have you been? We have work to do.

- I don't want to know about it. - What are you talking about?

- We have to get this down. - I said I don't wanna know.

We have to get this down.

You're drunk, aren't you?

I said I don't wanna know about it. Do you understand me?

I don't wanna know about it!

- Don't holler at me! - I don't wanna know about it!

Don't holler at me. I never did anything to you.

I never did anything to you. And I'm gonna tell you all about it.

I don't want to hear another fucking word from you.

All right? Nothing!

Nothing!

- Okay. - Nothing!

I can't help it!

Don't you see it's a disease?

I'm like an alcoholic. One's not enough. Two?

Two, three?

I'm normal, Bruce. I'm normal. I'm just like you.

Stop this. Now, stop this. Let's do the story.

Get off me, you fucking maniac! Get off of me!

Now, listen to me. I am trying to talk to you. Shut up!

Now, shut up!

Now we're one.

Don't you see we're one?

Without me, you're nothing.

And without you, I'm alone.

Kill me.

- I'd rather die. - Oh, yeah?

I'd rather die than go on with this.

I'd rather die.

Go ahead.

Go ahead.

Money...

power...

fame?

You're gonna burn, Hale.

You're gonna burn.

Where's Clifton?

- What's going on? You find anything? - Not yet.

You've gotta be kidding me. I've been here for six hours!

We're doin' the best we can.

Been diggin' in the pool?

- I got men working up there right now. - Show me.

You gotta be kiddin' me. This is all you dug up?

It's clean. There's nothin' here, buddy.

- Bullshit. - I was on this case for six years.

Never did make sense. All that blood and no bodies.

I'm telling you the bones-- The bones are down there.

- There are no bones-- - I'll do it myself. Get outta the way.

- He's a phony. - Move.

Damned if I know why he picked on you.

Maybe he needed his five minutes of celebrity, you being a writer.

They love to get in the papers, that kind.

- I want you to get a bulldozer. - I'm not--

And I want you to come in here, and I want you to dig.

And dig deep, till you find those bones...

'cause I'm telling you that they're down here.

- They're not down there. - They're down here.

Come on. Come out. Give it up.

All right. I'm gonna show you something.

Come on with me. You come with me.

Come here for a second.

I'll show you right now. It's right here. I got it right in my notes.

Right in my notes. You wait right there, Clifton.

Here we go. Okay.

Here it is.

Every single word of this is true.

This is what he said, okay?

"He must have watched them.

They were unaware of him, that perfect urban household.

Perfect couple and their kids.

And him watching...

like the angel of sorrow."

The angel of sorrow, Clifton.

And this, I found this the first day that I came here.

I found it. It was on top of the pool. It's Jennifer Carrol's.

- We've heard this all before. - I put it--

Did you hear it? You?

- This was on top-- - You? You hear it?

You don't believe me.

We've heard that story before, Mr. Simmons.

The bones are there. I'm telling you.

There are no bones! That's bullshit.

- Because you're not digging deep enough! - We did dig deep enough.

That's it. The show's over. Let's go.

Clifton! You're not diggin' deep enough.

Have a nice day.

You're not digging deep enough, Clifton!

The bones. The bones are there.

I killed them, Bruce. I killed them and many others.

Many perfect families, just like yours.

How far is it to your sister's house?

How far is it to the desert?

Help!

Heather.

Heather?

- What the hell you doing here? - You're okay.

You all right?

- Where are the kids? - They're inside taking a nap.

- What happened to your head? - I'm fine.

- Everything's gonna be fine. - Sit down. Come over here.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Come on. Let me get you some water.

Are you in trouble?

No, no. I'm fine. Everything's gonna be okay.

- Here, buddy. - Thank you.

This friend of yours stopped by. Some guy named Eddie?

He said happy belated birthday. He left this for you.

I forgot your birthday too.

Happy birthday.

- What is it? - It's a Bible.

Strange.

Come on. Let's go inside and get this cleaned up.

Come on, Bruce. Come on, bud.

You don't know what you're feeling, do you?

You can't even think, can you?

Yes, I was there, Bruce. I watched them.

You've no idea how much I wanted to hurt them, to kill them.

No idea. No idea what it's like...

to finger the saliva and wet your hands in blood.

To strangle and cut.

And the ground you bury them under, it becomes sacred.

You relive their last screams...

their pleas for mercy...

their pathetic whimpers...

because you are the last one there.

And then, then it begins again.

The trolling...

the stalking.

And once I've identified them...

once I've memorized their schedules and habits...

they're mine.

I possess them.

I possess them, just like I possessed you for a while.

You see, Bruce, it's like a door.

A door between two realities.

Good and evil.

I cross over into the side of darkness.

I become the angel of sorrow...

like we wrote.

And Bruce...

you'll never catch me.

You'll never catch me...

until God...

shows his face.

Until God shows his face.

I had seen the face of evil.

As for the face of God...

I think I caught a glimpse...

just in time.