Original subtitles

[solemn electronic music]

[disquieting electronic music]

[The Painter speaking in Latin]

♪

[city din]

[woman] Obviously, we don't know what...

[overlapping news reports]

[woman 2] People are dying and it's gruesome.

[man] Seventy thousand in 70 countries...

Undercover...

[overlapping news reports continue]

[narrator] The terror was real.

The murders, unending.

The culprits, unfound.

After a worldwide pandemic of Painter murders,

the Congress of the United States acted.

The world acted.

No more would the average citizen be terrorized.

No more would we fear.

The Painter Defense Agency was founded.

Within two years,

the source of these terrible events were uncovered.

And the occults responsible were brought to swift justice.

Because of the Painter Defense Agency,

it is estimated that nearly five million lives

over 12 years have been spared.

Now there is calm. Now there is peace.

The Painter Defense Agency. Forever peace.

[George] You a fan of doubles?

You know I am.

I'm okay at tennis,

but I'm pretty damn good at doubles.

That's how Jackie and I got together, playing doubles.

That's how I knew we'd be such an amazing fit.

It wasn't just her good looks.

I'd begin to go for a ball

or she would, and-- and-- and

before contact, the other one

would already be where

we needed it to be.

It's not just communication.

It's a quality of faith

beyond reason, beyond trust.

I've always found doubles to

be a good way to look at not

just my own life, but my kids too.

I hope-- I think

I've instilled this idea

of partnership,

this kinship with friends,

family, work,

everything, really.

And, you know,

we still make time

for doubles regularly.

Despite the knees-- mine, not hers.

But you see,

we can absorb problems like that.

[woman] You're off your game today.

Because we've got each others' backs still.

-[man] Am I? -[woman] You are.

[man] I don't think I am.

[woman] Sweetheart, you are.

You are and I don't know why, and that's not okay.

You've been off since you got reassigned to that, um...

Painter Defense Agency.

You were much happier when you were part of the FBI.

Federal Bureau of Investigation.

You were so excited when you went in.

I was excited.

So, what changed?

Nothing.

[heels clack]

[beeping]

[ominous electronic music]

[The Painter]

[eerie distorted growl]

♪

♪

[door creaks]

♪

[shrieking]

[eerie distorted electronic music continues]

♪

[distorted whispering]

[muffled screaming]

♪

Lying doesn't suit you, George. It never has.

I'm not lying. I'm telling you the truth.

So then why, for the past six months,

does it look like you've seen the devil?

Because I'm afraid for you.

And I'm afraid for Grace.

Every day now, I'm afraid.

Why?

'Cause... we know nothing.

[Jackie] What do you mean nothing?

[George] The PDA knows nothing.

A-- and it scares me.

It terrifies me.

[Jackie] I don't understand.

What don't you understand?

You went in there knowing nothing

and you left knowing nothing.

So even though nothing changed, you changed.

You became afraid.

Now, I'm not sure that I buy that.

And in fact, I'm not even sure that you buy that.

So, do you want to start over?

Do you want to get a new story?

You have been so very honest with me

for so many years.

And you have shared all your deepest thoughts

and your darkest fears,

and you've never sugar-coated anything for me.

You've never shirked anything.

You've never said, "I know

you can't handle this. You're on a needs-to-know--

You're on a needs-to-know basis."

So for the first time in our marriage, I know you're lying.

But what terrifies me is that what you must know

must be so terrifying that you're prepared to hurt

our marriage rather than spill your guts.

So what you know must be pretty bad.

It must be inescapable.

[low eerie electronic music]

[latch clicks]

[light switch clicks]

♪

♪

♪

[liquid lapping]

[shrieking]

[chittering]

[electronic drone]

[splatting]

[bang]

♪

[click]

[George] I need your help.

It's about my job. My new job.

This job.

[Jackie] So what is your job?

Damage control.

[Jackie] Continue.

[George] If you had a student whose parents were sick...

Let's say their dad was very ill.

And they were worried about him.

But they believed that their father

was on the mend, and so they came to school.

[Jackie] Continue.

But let's-- let's say that the kid came to school

and they went on a field trip to the Liberty Science Museum.

And you were watching them have a wonderful time.

And when midday came,

you found out that the father was dead.

Would you allow them to enjoy

the rest of their beautiful day?

Or would you tell them the truth?

What if you had diagnosed the extreme nature

of the disease but you had no cure?

Oh, so what? We're switching analogies now?

Help me out here.

I would say ignorance is bliss.

But I would also say people have the right to

know the truth, however upsetting.

Even me.

[George] Even when I joined the Bureau

and I'd-- I'd have to withhold things--

I guess we look at things differently.

-- I would withhold, she'd understand.

There was never lying, you know?

Through decades unbroken, we maintained faith.

Now, you're telling me to do something.

I don't know.

To get out of the car.

Walk into the kitchen.

Look in her eyes. Smile.

Tell her about my day.

Lie.

And it's not-- it's not about

withholding top secret--

This is--

this is different because--

because you've put me in a position

where I have to tell her

everything's okay.

It's not okay.

It's not.

Not... one... bit.

And...

[laughs bitterly]

I have no choice.

I can't-- I-- I can't tell her.

I don't see how it could be

possible for me to--

to share with her what I now know.

So, I will lie because I must lie.

You have made me a liar.

[The Painter]

[Grace] Dad!

Hello! Hello!

Dad?

Grace, sweetheart.

You got here so much quicker than I expected.

[Grace] You said it was urgent.

[George] So I did.

Come in, come in.

Sit, sit.

I was just making myself some tea.

Would you like anything?

How long have you been here?

Too long. It's crazy, as you can imagine.

I'd kind of like to know why I'm here,

why we're meeting here and not at home with Mom.

I thought it might be nice

for us to hang out for a bit.

Should we order a pizza?

You know, with this-- this curfew

and everything that we're going to have to be

at home with the door shuts by this time tomorrow.

Is there something you want to tell me?

-Off the record? -Dad.

I'm just teasing, kiddo.

Are you going to tell me what's going on?

[announcer] Breaking news.

Protests have broken out in nearly every major US city,

after a series of bombshell articles

by The New York Herald

alleging that the Painter Defense Agency

has been doctoring their arrest numbers to the public.

In the most damning piece by Reila Martin,

she alleges through classified records

that the PDA has been covering up Painter murders

as ordinary crimes.

Senators on the Hill have scheduled hearings

for next week where leaders from the agency

are expected to testify.

Senate Intel Chairman Casey

has said he will hand down subpoenas if necessary.

The White House, for its part, has declined to comment.

[water spraying]

[distorted reverberating electronic music]

[coughing]

[sniffs]

[indistinct chatter]

You got him.

It wasn't hard.

This fucking piece of shit's not nearly

as smart as he thinks he is. [indistinct].

This whole clusterfuck is a little too close for comfort.

[interrogator] You wanna make a call?

I'm not legally obligated

to tell you who I want to call.

Well, it's done. That's what matters.

Not quite.

How do you mean?

[interrogator] Why did you do it?

You, out of all people, should know.

The scene's not clean until every detail's been scrubbed.

[interrogator] Hey, you dumb fuck,

why did you do it?

Because you deserved it.

[Sam] I've been sweating this guy all night.

He's a tough nut to crack.

[interrogator] Who are you working with?

Google it.

[both laughing]

Let me have a go at him?

[interrogator] Do you know who this guy is?

Hmm?

[Sam] You see who that guy is?

The guy asking the questions?

[George] Yeah, I do.

Yeah, and what makes you think that you

could have more success than him?

I get the point.

[Sam] Good.

[interrogator] Don't start crying now.

You don't know who he is you can Google it.

We'll Google it together right now.

Do you want to Google it?

How's last night's scene?

[George] It's clean.

Do you have a guy in mind yet?

No, not yet.

Why is it taking so long?

[interrogator] Do you know who that is?

Yes.

[interrogator] Who is it?

It's my partner.

This-- this Mary Lang woman, she had a lot of friends.

I don't think that going the domestic route is going to fly.

Something more random.

My name is Sean Harrington.

[interrogator speaks indistinctly]

Where are you from, Sean?

Richmond, Virginia.

And what about this?

What about it?

This isn't just my mess, George.

[interrogator] How long have you been working for the PDA?

Little over a year.

It's not my job to look after the techs.

No, it's my job.

But we both know why this fucker went

to that bitch at The Herald.

I want you for the job.

Not this one. Not for the PDA.

Yeah. [indistinct], that's obvious.

My mantra has always been and will always be,

"Stay away from men with families."

But everyone had me convinced that you

were devoted to the greater good.

And yadda, yadda, yadda.

Yeah, you almost fooled me, too.

When you came up with this idea for cleaning up the scenes.

People deserve to know the truth.

I thought, "Here's really great opportunity,

George, for us to keep the public calm, to work together.

To make the murders of The Painter a rumor."

That can never happen.

Get me the fuck out of here, man!

But now look at you.

There's nothing to worry about.

She was only following protocol.

Every part of a scene needs to be clean

backwards, forwards, side to side.

Its whole history needs to be nipped in the fucking bud.

Why are you guys doing this?

It doesn't make sense.

I know there's been a lot stress for all of us.

So, I'm gonna take care of the rest of the scene for you.

[George] What are you talking about?

You should get going.

I think I've already found us a good guy for Miss Mary Lang.

I killed Mary Lang.

[George] Remember when you were a little girl

and mom went away on a business trip for a week and--

and that-- that Friday I got called away on an emergency.

And you-- you were just-- you were 13.

Do you remember what I'm talking about?

I remember. I was 14.

Remind me what happened.

We were a little drunk and a little high,

and we were hoping to get a little more drunk

and a little more high.

And then what happened?

I was the only one who had access to money.

You-- you were only 14 years old.

How much money could you have access to?

I had your money.

What did you take?

Fifty. Two 20s and a ten.

For what?

Couple of 40s. Some pot.

[George] Just a couple?

A few.

But the pot was the lion's share of the money.

A moment ago, you said, "We."

Who was the "we"?

-You know her name. -Remind me.

Reila Martin.

Are you two still friends?

[Grace] You could say that.

I understand she's become quite the writer.

[Grace] You could say that.

[George] Writing about things that happen to be my specialty.

Things she couldn't-- she couldn't possibly know about.

But she does.

About things that could hurt a lot of people.

Help me with this one other thing.

What is the name of this publisher

who's publishing the shit

that she's writing?

David Horowitz.

[George] David Horowitz. Who's-- who's David Horowitz?

-My boss. -Your boss.

And you're the one who's providing

these articles to your boss, correct?

Yes.

When you took that money,

I never told your mother.

Do you remember why I didn't tell her?

Do you remember what I said?

[disembodied voice] The world acted--

[Grace] I don't remember.

[disembodied voice] No more would the average citizen...

I said, "Your mother would get so upset,

she might smack the crap out of you."

And I couldn't endure the--

the thought of you getting hurt.

[disembodied voice] And the occult responsible

were brought to swift justice.

[George] I couldn't bear it then.

And I can't bear it now.

[disembodied voice] ... estimated that nearly five

million lives over 12 years have been spared.

You know what you have to do, correct?

Yes.

[George] Good.

You probably hate me right now.

But I will always do whatever

it takes to protect my daughter.

Even if it means enduring her hate.

[George] If you had asked me

if I want to know this, I would have said no.

This sucks.

I don't want to break it.

Such a lie.

[sighs]

I know this is--

You don't care.

The Agency doesn't care.

They only care about secrets.

You only care about secrets.

Now,

I only care...

about secrets.

Sam.

I gotta talk to you, man.

Let's do it right here. It's no rush.

Um, we can't-- can't continue the operation

as it has been going on--

Are you fucking kidding me?

No, I'm not. It's not about my daughter.

We have to stop this now.

This is-- This is getting out of hand.

It is getting out of hand?

[indistinct] right now?

I know.

You're the one who came up with the idea.

-It was a great fucking idea. -It's fucking wrong.

There's a higher issue at stake here.

You're saying this is just as bad as

The Painter [indistinct]?

Not yet. It's a matter of degree.

I think there are other alternatives,

there are other options--

There is no other alternative.

We've known this since day one.

I-- I-- I understand what's at stake.

Things would be worse right now.

We have every right to do this.

We've got support as high as you can imagine.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, not as high as you can imagine.

-No-- -They support you--

-We have the support. -You cannot go that high.

We do not have the right. It will come out.

The public will eventually know.

We just do our job.

It is-- it is increasing at such a rate

that we can't stay--

That's why we're doing what we're doing.

We're going to solve it eventually.

Are you telling me we're not gonna solve it?

Is that what you're telling me?

-I don't know. -You told me from the

beginning that you believe in what we're doing.

And now you're telling me that we're not?

If we lose control without giving

some trust to the public,

the pandemonium that could occur will be far, far worse.

I'll tell you right now.

The public are a bunch of fucking idiots.

This is about everybody who's taking the fall.

Do you want me to tell them that the person who came up

with the idea of cleaning the scene is now saying that

the entire operation is-- it's-- it's just done?

And then you want me to tell them that the daughter

of this person who came up with this--

Let's take a breath.

I need to trust what you're doing is the right thing.

Or else I wouldn't be here right now.

[music swells]

Yeah, I tried to protect you. I did.

[George] You don't have to protect me.

[music covers the conversation]

I am going to put everything I am...

[music surges over conversation]

[Sam] I'm done. You're done.

This is done.

[phone buzzing]

[phone buzzing]

[classical music]

[Jackie] George, she's gone.

You heard? She's gone, she's dead.

George, George!

She's dead.

[sobbing]

George!

George.

She's dead.

George. Oh, no!

[continues sobbing]

George! She's dead! George!

George! George!

She's dead.

She's dead.

George!

[The Painter]

[Annie continues sobbing]

[sniffs]

You know, I was just thinking about...

the last words my fiancée ever said to me.

You know what they were?

She said...

She said, "I hope it was worth it."

[sniffs]

[exhales loudly]

[helicopter blades whirring]

[The Painter]

[reporter] Riots have gripped the nation

as PDA leaders have defied

Senate Intelligence Committee subpoenas.

Despite their actions,

however, a spokesman for the agency said

that not only do they refute all claims

made by the New York Herald,

but will be releasing their own evidence in turn.

[The Painter]

[computer keys clacking]

[Maya] You know the quality I love best about you?

[eerie electronic music]

[keys clacking]

The thing that made me fall in love with you?

[ding]

♪

[Maya] You know the quality I love best about you?

The thing that made me fall in love with you?

[tense percussive music]

The thing that made me fall in love with you?

[gun banging]

[water running]

♪

[knocking on door]

[disembodied screaming]

[knocking on door]

[screaming continues]

[knocking on door]

[screaming continues]

[screaming echoes sinisterly]

[screaming fades]

[gun banging]

[water running]

[gasps]

[phone ringing]

[gasping]

Hello?

Is this Miss Martin?

[Reila] Speaking.

Miss Reila Martin?

Yes.

The same Reila Martin who's writing,

"Only one murder on US soil,

PDA claims credit, but at what cost?"

Okay.

You have my attention. Who is this?

What do you want?

[Sean] There's a phone waiting for you in the bathroom.

It's underneath the right side of the toilet, taped up.

It's duct-taped so you'll need to give it a good tug.

If you don't answer in 40 seconds,

this conversation is over.

Hello? Hello?

♪

-[Reila] I'm here. -[Sean] Well done.

Now, go downstairs and take the 1 train, downtown.

[Reila] Are you gonna tell me what this is about?

You'll find out soon enough. Trust me.

Now go downstairs.

[Reila] So how'd you know the name of my article?

I've been an admirer of yours for a long time.

You may want to use your headphones.

Make talking easier than holding the phone to your ear.

[static glitching]

[Reila] What the hell is this?

I'm not making another move until you throw me a bone.

Spoken like a true gumshoe.

You're a hell of a writer, Reila.

And I want to help you.

I want to help you with information.

Information that only I am willing to share.

Information that you would otherwise

never come into contact with.

This information can help you put a [indistinct]-sized

hole in your story on the PDA.

Okay.

[Sean] I'm gonna tell you a story.

A story about a woman named Mary Lang.

She was a respected member of the community.

Teacher, mother of three.

She'd been married to Joshua Lang for nearly 40 years.

He, too, had a sterling reputation

for his unwavering compassion and, uh, morality.

It was said by friends and relatives

that he would profess his love for Mary frequently.

So it struck everyone as odd

when he told Mary that he wanted a divorce.

-[Reila] Damn it. -[Sean] Don't bother,

just go through.

So, not only was Joshua Lang having an affair,

but said affair was going on for nearly four years.

According to everyone involved, Mary was devastated.

But, for the sake of her children,

she gave Joshua a divorce with little fuss.

♪

Go to the back of the train, get off at the last stop.

Afterwards, take the ferry to Staten Island.

Now what?

[Sean] When you disembark, walk to Eight Street.

Walk. Do not take a cab.

-You understand? -Yes. Then what?

[Sean] When you get there,

you'll walk halfway down the block.

On the right, you'll see a metal fence

with a red stripe and an envelope underneath.

Then what?

-[Sean] Talk soon. -Hello? Hello?

♪

[ferry horn blowing]

[ambient chatter]

[gulls cawing]

♪

♪

[Sean] On the morning of March 14th,

Mary Lang woke at her dining room table.

She had passed out the night before.

She hadn't been drinking.

There was no alcohol in her system.

One can deduce she had sat there all night,

staring at nothing.

Shortly after awaking, she opened her front door.

A group of young children

playing across the street waved at her.

♪

Roughly ten minutes later,

neighbors reported hearing screaming from inside

the Lang house, in the kitchen area.

When the authorities arrived, they found Mary's body

cut up beyond recognition.

The next day, Joshua Lang was arrested

for the murder of Mary Lang.

There were fingerprints on the weapon

and corroborating witnesses that placed him

at the scene during the time of the murder.

[music intensifies]

♪

There's an interesting footnote to this tale.

Roughly ten seconds after the first reported scream,

young Connor Williamson took a photo with his smartphone.

An hour after taking said photo,

the PDA confiscated said phone.

Which begs the question, what if...

What if Joshua Lang didn't murder his wife?

What if it was someone else?

What if it was something else?

Which then begs the next question.

If the PDA lied, why were they lying?

♪

Two months before we broke up,

we got into an argument.

It was a big one.

Did you know about her jealousies?

She was obsessed that I'd be

looking at other people.

That I'd find other people

more attractive than her.

She was always asking me

if I thought she was beautiful.

If I thought other people

were more beautiful.

[chuckles]

Sometimes she'd ask me to compare her face

to other people's faces.

And when I couldn't answer her right,

she'd get mad.

She'd accuse me of betraying her,

or lying to her.

So one night,

after apparently, I had been lying again,

she went into the bathroom.

She stayed there for a very, very long time.

And after this very, very long time, she came out.

She got back into bed with me.

I didn't see her, I-- My back was to her.

I-- I'd been writing.

And when I turned over to her, she had the sheet

pulled up to her chin.

I reached out for her, to apologize, to make nice.

I put my hand on her thigh, over the sheet.

She screamed at me, "Don't touch me."

She always used to scream that.

But this time, it was different.

This wasn't just some...

piece of shrapnel thrown at a lover,

trying to get attention.

She absolutely did not want to be touched.

You want a glass of wine? I could use one.

Sure.

I wrapped my fingers

around the matted covers.

She looked me dead in the eye,

and then she said,

"Please, don't send me back to the hospital.

Please. Please. I'm begging you."

[crying]

And I said to her, "You're not going anywhere.

I just want to take a little look."

I pulled back the sheet.

And there she was.

My love,

or my fiancé,

as you relished in reminding me.

She'd taken a dull, rusty pair of scissors

to her thighs, to her ankles, to her calves,

to her chest, to her stomach, her arms.

She carved herself up.

She carved herself up real good.

Except for her face.

That face... [chuckles]

that she would stare at,

day after night after day.

Until all she saw was wolfskin.

I helped her up.

I walked her into the bathroom.

I drew her a warm bath.

And as I helped her in,

each time the wound would hit the water,

she would wince, cry out a little more.

[classical music]

I washed her.

No soap, just... warm water.

[sniffling]

I dried her and wrapped her wounds.

And I put her to sleep.

[The Painter]

[inaudible]

♪

♪

[inaudible]

[talking inaudibly]

[police sirens wailing]

[gasps]

Jesus.

You forgot to pour me one?

Excuse me?

Just pour me a fucking glass of wine.

You forgot this in the bathroom.

-Wait, it's not like that. -[scoffing] Just stop.

Okay?

You know the quality I love best about you?

The thing that made me fall in love with you?

Made me give you this ring?

It's that you were always so straight up about everything.

It was so-- it was so fucking sexy.

You know what I hate most?

Is your lies.

About all these fucking little things.

Whether you're coming home at a certain time

or where you're going.

And I just told myself, they're just little things.

They're not little things.

They're big things.

And you know what the worst thing is?

Is that you double down on everything.

You spin a web, gaslight.

Well, just do me a favor and don't double down on this.

♪

I was just feeling so tight.

I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't write.

I-- It felt like-- like it was suffocating me,

around the throat.

And then as time went by,

the air around me just got thinner and thinner, and I--

I couldn't breathe.

I can't be who you want me to be.

I can't speak it.

I can't wear it.

I can't be it.

After she fell asleep,

I-- I stayed up.

I couldn't sleep. I refused to.

And the next night. Couldn't sleep.

And the night after that.

But it didn't matter.

I wasn't strong enough.

Three months later, she was dead.

Uh--

I don't think it was worth it.

Do you think it was worth it?

[crowd din]

Do you feel hate?

I've never felt hate.

Not until recently.

But I feel it now.

Feel it. I feel hate.

Building inside me.

Raging.

Unbending.

Volcanic, even.

No. Don't. Don't look at me like that.

Don't look at me like I'm a cliché.

Like I'm being dramatic. I'm not. Not dramatic.

You haven't seen what I've seen.

You don't know what I've been trying to-- to do.

You don't get it, okay? You just don't fucking get it.

Enough.

Just tell me why you're here.

I wanted a drink.

Okay?

[woman] I've been doing this a long time, Reila.

I've had this place for a long time.

I've spent every single penny I have into it.

And through those years,

a lot of people have come through here.

Some are young. Some are too young.

Some are old.

Most of them are old.

Some are bankers. Some are cops.

Some are teachers. And some are just unemployed,

spending money they don't have.

'Cause they just want a drink.

Some want vodka because you can't smell it.

Some want tequila because it makes them

want to dance when otherwise they wouldn't.

And some want gin

because they've got an itch for a fight.

But they all just want a drink.

Just a drink.

One drink.

♪ Ladadam dam dam dam ♪

No one walks into High Ends bar for just a drink.

♪ Fighting back the feeling ♪

I need your help.

I've got a story.

Source has gone missing.

[woman] Do you know where he lives?

[Reila chuckles] No.

Do you know what he looks like?

[laughs] No.

Yeah. No, I got-- I have nothing.

♪ It's just a scheme, baby ♪

I thought...

I thought you could find something on them.

♪ Catching up with my sleep ♪

What? What is it?

Where are you going?

[woman] I'll be right back.

♪ All I'm thinking of are things ♪

♪ I'm too damn tired to repeat ♪

♪ Ladadam, ladadam, ladadam dam dam ♪

♪ Fighting out the feeling ♪

♪ And notion that this is a scheme ♪

[eerie tone ringing]

♪

[ominous note building]

♪ It's just a scheme, babe ♪

Come on, Reila.

Sit down.

You're helping him?

[bartender] He's going to help us.

[George] I'm not here to hurt you.

I figured you'd do something with that phone.

It's actually fortunate

that I found you, rather than someone else.

Please sit.

I'll stand.

You seriously don't recognize me?

What? Should I?

It's pretty clear who you work for.

No. But for a-- a journalist,

your memory leaves something to be desired.

[sobbing]

[Reila] I can't believe I walked right into that.

I gave you my story.

I gave you my source.

No, you didn't.

We were onto your source before he ever came to you.

I used to be so good at this.

Now what?

I... overheard you saying

that you are full of rage these days.

Overwhelmed by hate.

Don't become that which you are sworn to defeat.

I watched far too many good people

become victims of hate.

I was a-- a kid who-- who read countless stories

about lone warriors,

battling the hordes of darkness.

I'd put on my little cape.

I'd turn out the lights, I'd say, "Bring it on."

["Foreign" by Seth and the Swan]

I was a fearless little fucker.

Because I was a good guy.

♪ The coldest night of the year ♪

♪ Yet I have no fear ♪

However, practicalities replace ideals.

Good guys and bad guys become labels,

which we assign as we deem necessary.

♪ That I spread ♪

I'm done with that, now.

Please.

Let me help you.

♪ I've sold all my things ♪

♪ Pauper's a king ♪

♪ But I don't care ♪

Good people...

will make this mess a little less ugly.

And good people don't hate, Reila Martin.

Please.

♪ The bricks and stones of our homes ♪

Meet me here in-- in three days.

I need three days.

♪ I've written my words ♪

♪ And I've spent my share ♪

♪ It's time to move on ♪

[The Painter]

♪ It's time to move on, ignore the dawn ♪

♪ Time to repair, but it feels the same ♪

♪ Time to repair, but it feels the same ♪

[banging]

[tense music]

[thudding]

[blades whirring]

♪

[thunder clapping]

[storm lashing]

♪

[thunder clapping]

♪

♪

♪

[door rumbling]

♪

[sonic boom]

[boom echoing]

[muffled screaming]

[classical music]

♪

[sirens blaring]

[footsteps thudding]

[explosions]

[helicopter blades whirring]

[missiles whooshing]

[explosions]

[emergency siren blaring]

[explosions rumbling]

[people screaming]

[glass shattering]

[muffled screaming]

[buildings collapsing]

[footsteps thudding]

[fires crackling]

[footsteps thudding]

[Reila gagging]

[The Painter]

[Reila panting]

[Reila sobbing]

[painful groaning]

Who is that?

I found it next to me.

What the fuck does it say?

You don't want to know.

[laughs] Yeah. I do.

[George] All right.

"Dear George, my friend.

We were so very wrong.

Tell the reporter, 'I'm sorry.'

I thought that if we collaborated,

it would leave.

God, help me.

Sam."

Publish that if you want.

[chuckles] Yeah.

I think we're past that.

♪

♪

[Reila grunting]

[Reila] Come on.

I'm not done yet.

And I don't quit.

[George panting]

I've still got some fight left in me.

[Reila] It's not over.

♪

[ominous music fades]

["Foreign" by Seth and the Swan]

♪ The coldest night of the year ♪

♪ Yet I have no fear ♪

♪ Waiting in dust ♪

♪ My mind just out of reach of your ear ♪

♪ Create a distraction ♪

♪ I'll tape your reaction ♪

♪ To the truth ♪

♪ That I'll spread ♪

♪ About your obvious charm ♪

♪ Sleep in the grass with me ♪

♪ We'll be there all year ♪

♪ I've sold all my things ♪

♪ From pauper to king ♪

♪ But I don't care ♪

[indistinct lyric]

♪ The warmth in your blood ♪

♪ Cannot strengthen you ♪

♪ I'm strong enough to lie ♪

♪ So that you know my love is true ♪

♪ There's knowledge in ♪

♪ The bricks and stones of our homes ♪

♪ Could anyone help to learn ♪

♪ Or will it just do us more harm ♪

♪ I've written my words ♪

♪ And spent my share ♪

♪ It's time to move on ♪

♪ Ignore the dawn ♪

♪ Time to repair ♪

♪ But it feels the same ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Time to prepare ♪

♪ But it feels the same ♪

♪