All language subtitles for Down.Below.2024.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264

I know you all were expecting
Father Deacon this evening,

however, I will be
filling in on his behalf.

They call me Mr. Monday,

named after the worst
day of the week.

But, without Monday,

Saturday and Sunday
would have no meaning.

-Can I get an amen?
-Amen!

So, let us begin.

Before we give praise,

I'd like to share
a story with y'all.

It's my favorite story,

one my son is quite
familiar with.

Little Red, say hello to
all these wonderful people.

If you're wondering
why he doesn't look like me,

we're not related, not by blood.

What binds us together is fate.

One woman's trash

happened to be this old
preacher's treasure.

Man was born with

everything he ever needed.

Yet still, he had wishes,
had desires.

And one of those wishes
came in the form of fire.

Fire gave us
a lot to be thankful for.

Like what, Little Red?

A juicy charred steak.

What else, Little Red?

Warmth on a chilly night.

Yes, warmth on a chilly night.

Unless that fire
were to spread, of course,

and decimate all in its path.

And that's how hell went from
a fiery dimension below our feet

to sinners in dark alleyways

and serpents in the suburbs.

But, alas,
man keeps wishing for those

flames and that wish
keeps getting granted.

Ah, all right.

I hope you all were
listening very carefully,

because I am going to quiz you.

Who do you think granted

man's wish for fire?

Anybody?

Who gave man fire?

Somebody must
know the answer to this.

Here's a hint.

It's in this room.

I guess I can let you
all in on my story

about who it was
who gave man fire

all those centuries back

when civilization and
time weren't even a thing.

It was me.

It's been 315 days since
my life was taken from me.

What I am now is untouchable.

A leper of society.

I have been labeled a predator.

Accused of the most
heinous crime there is.

Even worse than murder.

So why?

Why are you following around
me,
a now registered sex offender,

on the loneliest
time of the year?

Because I'm innocent.

Framed.

By who? No idea.

The only clue I've got is
an account called Fata Morgana.

The video they posted
brought me to trial.

Fata Morgana.

It means mirage,
and like a mirage,

whoever runs the account
is nowhere to be found.

Not that anyone
would believe my story.

Not the cops.

Not my job.

Not even my wife.

She wanted to believe
in my wild goose chase.

But she just couldn't.

All right, I'm coming.

Oh, God!

Fuck.

Hey!

Get back here!

I should just let this go.

It's Christmas Eve, after all.

But he had to ruin
a perfectly good pair of shoes.

Yo, yo, chill!

Dude, why would you do that?

-Yo, get off me, man.
-You fucking ding-dong ditched.

You fucking left a flaming bag
of shit on my fucking porch.

You piece of--

I got paid to do that shit.

It wasn't me, man.

Some guy named
Fata Morgana or whatever paid me

to do this shit, man.

-It's not even me, man.
-What did you say?

I said Fata Morgana, man.

I don't even
know the fucking name.

What, Fata Morgana?

That-- Exactly that,
what you just said.

That's the name.
That's the fucking name.

You know who I'm talking about.

I'm sure you know.

It's been 315 days since
my life was forever changed.

But tonight is different,

because Fata Morgana
is finally back.

And I have proof this time.

Now, where is that damn
cop assigned to my case?

There is nobody more
disgraceful than those

who prey on our children.

But that doesn't
mean you act on impulse.

He was a chicken hawk, Doc.

A registered sex offender.

I'd clock him in the milk
aisle all over again if I could.

I can't clear you
until I see some remorse.

So keep deflecting,
and we'll have this little

song and dance
into the new year, pal.

What's it gonna be?

I want you to look
at this card again.

Allow yourself to be
without judgment.

And whatever pops into
your mind, no matter how

strange or unfamiliar
that thought might be,

let it free.

There's a pot of gold
on the other side

of the darkest of rainbows, pal.

A man.

I see a man.

You see a man.

How old is this man?

He's, uh, in his fifties, maybe?

I-- I can't put my finger
on how old he really is.

He's a real person, you see?

No.

Not real.

I have this dream sometimes.

It's always the same person,
but I've never met him.

It's almost as though the dream

belongs to someone else,

but I'm there witnessing it,
like it's a memory.

Does he have a name, this man?

It's Monday.

What'd you say?

I have an opening
on Monday the 3rd.

I think we should meet again.

We don't need
to rush this process.

Look who it is.

So, they cleared you?

Back in the blue.

911, what's your emergency?

I need you to
send an officer over.

There's somebody
messing with me.

He ding-dong ditched my porch
and left a flaming bag of poop.

We got a 594.

It's your favorite
person in the whole wide world.

Should we send the rookie?

-I'm on it.
-Is that a good idea?

Don't wanna fuck up
like that again.

No.

Come on, Seal.

I know I heard something.

It was out here.

Hey, hey, stop.

Oh.

Surprise.

I, uh, I know you were
hoping for someone else.

I was. What are you doing here?

I've got a front door.

Slipped right past it.

Seal, get inside. Stop.

You know,
I'm actually here to apologize.

I shouldn't have shoved you.

-Shoved?
-Laid a hand on you.

You did a little more than that.

You-- You knocked the wind
out of me.

So, uh, I'm here.

Where is this flaming
bag of shit?

Okay, hold on.

Pulling it up.

Officer, can you look at this?

Fata Morgana is the same
username who posted the video.

And this is not a coincidence.

Someone's trying to
spook you, pal.

Get you to leave town.

This is proof.

You're a cancer
in the neighborhood.

Why don't you listen to me?
This is the proof I needed.

Fata Morgana.

Don't make me
watch that video again.

I'm trying
to eat dinner tonight.

I would nev-- I was
changing at the beach.

Who the-- Who the fuck
doesn't change at the beach?

Then why did that little
boy say you flashed him?

I don't know.

Because he was paid.

So the kid's a liar.

No, I'm not saying he's lying.

I just,
I think that he might have

been staged to,
you know-- Fata Morgana.

-You just-- You have to list--
-Fata Morgana. So-- Okay.

So some stranger has grand plans

of framing you as a pedophile.

Camps out in the beach
parking lot all day

and-- and what, hires some kid
to say that you flashed him?

I need you to believe me.

You know, I'm trying real hard

to stand here,
and listen to you.

But I just feel dirty.

Wait, you're not leaving.

-What?
-I said you can't leave.

I can't leave? I can do
whatever the fuck I want to do.

-I didn't do anything.
-What, you're going to hit me?

You're going to hit me?

Hit me. Hit me!

Get even.

Your kind
is the lowest of the low.

Always pretending
to be the victim.

But the children,
the ones whose innocence

you chose to rob,
those are the real victims.

I didn't do anything!

In case you're wondering,
that's not my wife.

She had brown hair
with a splash of blonde.

This is Karisma,
a professional.

And she's part of
all this madness too.

Things I do for a pretty girl.

I will make sure
to show my appreciation.

Yeah, you will.

Slow down there, cowboy.

Your hour
hasn't even started yet.

Why don't we start with a toast?

A toast? To what exactly?

Well, what do
you want Santa to bring down

your chimney this year?

Well, he already brought that.

I can't wait to tear into it.

So, a lump of coal then?

This is good.

Let's do this.

It's not a proper Christmas Eve
unless we're half in the bag.

You know that.

Hey, no, no,
I don't want to get too drunk.

You don't need to worry
about that because I always

come prepared, honey.

Well, Lester...

I think it's time to
get a little more comfortable.

Shall we move this
over to the lounge chair?

You ready?

-It's about time.
-Okay, all right,

not too fast now.

Oh-- Oh. One limb up.

Come on. You are certainly tall.

Yeah.

-Okay.
-Okay.

-There.
-We're going to do this.

-Mm-hmm.
-Mm.

-We're going to take you...
-Yep.

-...all the way to the endzone.
-Get me naked!

All right.

Massacre of one!

Massacre of one!

Hey, come on in.

-Hi.
-Yeah. Hey, Karisma.

Hey, let's go to the bedroom.

Do you
want to know what's on the menu

for this evening?

Why don't you read my
mind like you did the last time?

Well, let's see. You don't
want to do a bubble bath.

True.

And you've lost interest
in getting straight to business.

Also true.

So, how about...

you stand in the corner...

...and do nothing but watch?

Well, no touching me, at least.

So, no touching, right?

I see you.

Uh, sorry.
Sorry you had to see that.

Are you here
for the sisterhood?

How can I help you, then?

This is going to sound insane.

I'm listening.

Has, um...

anything bad
ever happened at this church?

-Bad?
-I just have this feeling that

something died here long ago.

Something or...

someone?

Are-- are you sure

that there was
never a massacre?

If there had been a massacre
here, I would know about it.

The whole town
would know about it.

- Karisma.
- No.

Hey, Karisma, wake up.

You okay?

You leaving already?

Time slipped between
our fingers again.

Break those
strict rules of yours.

Stick around.

Know that I would,

but I have another appointment
at sunrise.

Some fancy psychologist
who works with fucked-up cops.

I think he's married.
I don't know.

I hope you bleed him dry.

It's what I do best, isn't it?

Bleed men dry.

Except for you, of course.

What a compliment.

Actually, can you zip me up?

I think this is a two-man job.

Sure.

I don't take
those anymore, by the way.

How's that?

I think that's perfect.

Are you all right?

Yeah. I'm always all right.

I got it, I got it.

All right.

There.

Can I ask you a question?

Sure, shoot.

Who is the man in the photo
by the lighthouse?

Bernard.

Bernard, who's--
who's Bernard?

He was like a dad to me.

Godfather.

He lived up the street from me
when I was a kid.

Taught me the difference

between a Phillips
and a flathead.

And how to stand up to bullies.

Pop them in the nose.
Strike first.

He sounds sweet.

He was.

Died of a heart attack,
though, when I was 13.

I'm sorry.

It was so weird,
because he was so healthy.

They found him
in the greenhouse.

I don't know
if he was gardening

in the middle of the night.

-Hm.
-Then. I was stuck with her.

Who's her? Your mother?

Saved the prying
for the therapist later.

Come on, baby.

Let me be
your G-string therapist.

Ah. Another night.

Do you think I could
get some coffee for the road?

Yeah.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

You play poker?

Yeah, a lot of my clients
happen to be fish.

Mm-hmm.

Oh.

Naked girls.

Yeah, I got that
in a pawn shop last week.

Those women are all
photographed in the '70s.

Bodies sure do not
look like that anymore.

Great bodies, though.

What, are you into
redheads or something?

I could bring a wig
next time.

That's my fucking mom.

What?

Oh, fuck.
This is my fucking mom.

You serious?

Yeah.

I recognize that red hair.

Jesus Christ.

Wow, what are the odds

that I have
your mom in my purse?

Okay, I'll keep it.

-I don't want to look at it.
-I'll keep it. Sorry.

Your mom, is she still around?

Nah, she--
she left last Christmas.

And by left,
I mean she fucking died.

Chain smoker.

Nicotine poisoning,
but that's her.

This has to be an omen.

Omen?

Yeah.

Yeah.

Sorry to Mr. Psychologist,

because I just got the stomach
flu from bad ham

and I got the fucking runs.

Sorry!

You're staying?

I'm staying.

All right.

Maybe it is meant to be.

My mom believed in omens, too.

I don't know if you've seen
our well out back.

I got a peek of it, actually.

It's a dry well.
It doesn't work.

She would sit by that thing
for hours,

smoking her cigarettes
right down to the ash.

Making wishes.

What do you think
she was wishing for?

That she had a girl instead.

Straight.

Give me more money.

She thought this fucking house
was haunted.

That there were ghosts stealing
her silverware

and going into her little pack
of Salem cigarettes

and flicking them out.

A ghost?

I don't know, lately I feel
like I'm being watched, too.

Maybe you are.

I know the feeling.

It's like when
I meet a new John.

I always know what he wants me
to do before he even asks it.

Yeah, us men are
predictable like that.

Yep, you're all
freaking cavemen.

Cavemen want fire.

And boobies.

You are an idiot.

-Yes, I am.
-Yes, you are.

But seriously,

I know what all my Johns
really want

beyond what
they say they desire.

It's like I can hear things
that no one else can.

Hear things?

Explain.

Massacre of one.

Does that mean anything to you?

Massacre of one?

Is that what you were
dreaming about earlier?

I don't know, I keep--
I keep seeing this church

and it just seems so real,

and I just-- All I know,

is that tremendous pain
happened at this church.

And that it has something
to do with a robot lady.

Robot lady?

That's who told me,
"massacre of one."

It came from a clock radio,

and it had, like,
this robotic voice.

Like there was a
woman under there. Trapped.

An electrolarynx.

An electrolarynx is what
you're talking about.

It's a hole right here.

My mom had one.

They put a voice box in.

And it made her sound...

like a robot.

Did you look me up?

No.

Well, I mean...

yes, just-- just the way that
I look up all my Johns.

I didn't do what they all think
I did, and they accuse me of.

I believe you.

I lost everything all the same.

Don't Salem, don't do this.

I had a life. I had a wife.

Salem.

Please don't do this.

Don't.

You don't understand.

Somehow, you're...

You're the link to everything
that I've been seeing.

Salem, where's my cigarettes?

-Salem.
-This is fate.

My mom was right.

There is a ghost in this house.

And it's fucking me.

Please don't make me go.

Get out.

Our hour is over,
and it's time for you to go.

Hm.

Great.

Nice. Bye.

Why did I do that?

Push her away?

Maybe I have become cold.

Here's the thing.

There's no way my mother
would be talking to me

from beyond the grave.

We didn't even talk
when she was alive.

So, if she's trying
to send me a message,

it ain't about no massacre.

Yes, I'll marry you.

Salem?

Salem.

Wake up.

Red...

hair.

Officer,
we have a 207 in progress.

-Kidnapping.
-Right now?

Yeah, right now.

I just received
this really eerie call.

The kid kept saying
he was trapped,

that he couldn't free himself.

He sounded drugged,
to be honest.

Did-- did-- did you get a name?

It sounded like
he said "Monday."

Maybe a last name.

Bandini, you gotta get
over there.

I think something
horrible's happened.

Oh. Feeling so good.

So good, baby.

This your house, ma'am?

Nobody's supposed
to be upstairs.

I'm looking for a bathroom
that's not occupied.

Do I know you from somewhere?

Doubt it.

Just rolled through
with some friends,

looking for a good time.

Now, I gotta take a mean leak.

Don't worry,
I'll lift up the seat.

Are you with the police?
You're a cop?

I am.

I'm looking for a kid here
named Monday.

The call came from this house,
so I know he's here.

You mean Monty?

Monty?

Of course, he's in this house.
He's my son.

There's no way
he'll call the police.

Not on his own party.

You must have the wrong house.

Where is he?

I think he's somewhere
in the madness down below.

Or maybe with a girl.

I've been told to stay
in my room, and be quiet.

Like a mouse.

Then you won't mind if I take
a quick look in there?

I do mind, actually.

Because I have company who
wants to be alone with me

on Christmas Eve.

Strange to lock it from the
outside with someone in there.

There are people who come to
parties just to steal jewelry.

You staring at me?

Tell me what you want.
You cannot be here!

This is my house!

You got 50 underage kids
drinking themselves

into oblivion.

I got a million reasons
to be here.

And you're going to give me
that key, right now.

Okay. Okay.

Nice, and slowly.

Shit.

Come on.

Okay. Okay. Okay, okay.

We're going to get you
out of this.

I'm a cop. Hold on.

Do not touch him.

Do not touch him.

Sit the fuck down, ma'am.

You're making a huge mistake.

I said sit, you twisted fuck.

Don't talk to her that way.

Listen,
you've been drugged, okay?

You called us.
Remember? It's over.

This woman can't
hurt you anymore.

She's not hurting me.

Did you call the police, Monty?

Of course not.

-Mom.
-Wait, you're Monty?

Hey. Do you have a warrant?

If you don't,
you're invading my privacy.

-We're going right now.
-No!

I'm not going anywhere!

You don't have a warrant.
You can't come to my house.

Daryl, I need
backup immediately.

-Bandini?
-Yeah. I went to the house.

There's something
fucked up going on.

I need more officers.

What house?

I'm here. I found him.
His name is Monty.

Not Monday. He's all
twisted up, Stockholm Syndrome.

Don't let him take me, Mom.

Thinks his captor is his mom.

Looks like she may have had
her way with him.

Wait, are you actually at
someone's house right now?

The kidnapping!
You gave me the coordinates!

I haven't spoken to you
since you left the station.

Knock it off, Daryl.
I need assistance!

Officer. Officer.

When's my backup here, Daryl?

Get out of there, now.
Right now.

I can't leave him.

You don't have a choice.

Is that you?

Is-- is that my backup?

Whatever you're doing,
whatever you're seeing,

just come back in the daylight
and do it by the books, okay?

Because they'll hang you
for this, man.

I won't leave.

Officer, I know
it's hard to understand

what you're seeing,
but I'm not in any danger.

I know you think you're in
control here, Monty,

but that is not
what's happening.

Listen to me.

You're gonna wake up one day,

and wish you had
come with me tonight.

You'll see this for the way
that I see it.

This woman may be your mother,
but she is preying on you.

And this will haunt you
for the rest of your life

unless you come with me,
right now.

I am...

18!

I've been waiting...

until he was of age.

This might be taboo
in modern society.

It's illegal, and a crime.

Bandini, what the fuck?

Show me your warrant.

Get the fuck out of my house!

I'm gonna find a way
to stop this.

Don't come back.

Please!

If anyone reports this...

we're gonna be humiliated.

And I don't ever...

want this to stop.

Officer, wake up!

Mr. Monday, take off your mask.

Wake up!

- Mr. Monday...
- Not in the face!

take off...

the mask!

What do you see?

Does he have a name...

this man?

No. No name.

It's Monday.

That's what he goes by.

Not
while I'm shaving, Little Red.

Could have nicked myself.

We don't want blood
all over the carpet, do we?

I don't like it down here.

There's a tranquility,
living below a church...

which you can't
find anywhere else.

Can a camera
steal someone's soul?

Have you been talking
to Father Cochise?

He said you could
get trapped in a picture.

What about a video camera?

Can that steal your soul, too?

I don't know.
But I can tell you one thing.

I wouldn't want to be stuck
in a polyester prison.

I can tell you that.

What's polyester?

It's what film is made of.

Put your hat on.

Salem.

Salem, is that you?

Hey, baby.

Is everything okay?

Yeah, I'm with Seal right now.

Seal.

What, does he remember me?

Oh, he still remembers.

You still smoking?

Oh, I'm not smoking anymore.

Nine months.

12 days.

I shouldn't have called.

No, I'm glad you called.

To be honest, I keep finding
myself thinking about you.

You do?

Yeah.

And I just...

I just want to tell you
that I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that
I had to leave. I just...

I just couldn't
take it anymore.

Because everybody kept looking
at you a certain way.

Looking at me a certain way.

I just couldn't
take it anymore.

But I know you didn't do it.

I know you didn't do it.

Why did you have to go
to the beach that day?

I don't know.

Why did you have
to go to the beach that day?

I wish that I hadn't.

Sorry.

Sorry. Um...

It's just late,
and I really wasn't expecting

to hear your voice, so...

I'm gonna go to bed.

Bye, Charlotte.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

I need a fucking cigarette.

I know I left a pack
in the shed.

I'm breaking, all right?

I don't want to be like her.

With a hole in my neck.

But I'm my mother's son,
I guess.

All alone.

In an empty house.

Trying to make sense of things
I can't explain.

Those are not my cigarettes.

Bernard.

Bernard.

I see you.

- There he is.
- This is my property, you know.

There you are, Bernard.

Can't you see
what I can see?

Don't you fucking
ding-dong-ditch me!

I see you. I see you.

I'm calling the cops.

Hey, Bernard.

Man, it's raining
cats and dogs out here.

Thank you. I'm soaked.

Whew! Through here?

Oh, this is--
this is nice and cozy.

Can I use a bathroom?

Salem!

Bernard.

How's school been?

School?

You're in the seventh grade?

The eighth?

I'm a little fuzzy.

I'm sorry.

I'm a little confused.

Bernard,

do you know where you are?

You know, if anybody ever
bullies you on the playground,

pop them in the nose.

Right in the tip of the nose.
Make them cry.

They'll stop
right there and there.

You gotta go first.

You know, just for effect.

You might get
your ass kicked, too.

You know what this is?

A cassette.

It might look like that.

But it's a polyester prison.

And I'm trapped inside.

A prison?

And he might
take my soul.

But he'll never take my memory.
Ever!

I promise, I'm not gonna
forget you, Bernard.

I'm gonna remember this.

I'm gonna remember this.

Bernard?

Bernard?

K?

You look like shit.

Thanks.

Why is it so dead in here?

Last Christmas
it was a madhouse.

I guess people are
staying off the naughty list.

Would you like to have
some time on the stage?

I want sleep.

Don't look so miserable, okay?

You've got every man in
this town lining up to have you.

I know I did,
when I was in her place.

I would have loved to see you
in your prime, Thorn.

Start again.

Yes, madam.

So who's the job?

He's some wealthy therapist,

but I don't know.

He's not answering my messages.

Show up unannounced.

And what if his wife
answers the door?

See if she wants
some company, too.

Perhaps he can
give you some insight

into why
a pretty girl like you

ended up roaming the streets.

It's always the same.

Same start.

Isn't it?

An uncle.

No...

a stepfather,

with a wandering gaze.

More than a gaze.

Don't make
this job a repeat, K.

Karisma.

Your nose.

You using again?

No.

Is she, Jewels?

Probably.

You don't even know me.

I've heard about you.

I'm not using.

I don't know why
my nose is bleeding.

Snow turns escorts into whores.

No one pays good money
for a whore.

They pay for a woman.

A woman they can play,
pretend with, imagine

love might be a blossoming
between the sheets.

Then I'm done.

I am so fucking done with this.

I'm done with you.

This ain't a pit stop,
sweetheart.

It's the destination.

The final one for our kind.

So you better take advantage

while you
still have your looks.

Only one.

Suffering.

From the monstrosity.

Massacre.

One.

Oh, God. No!

Shame you got
your mother's hair.

Her hair's red, too?

A burgundy beauty, she was.

With a pack of Salem cigarettes
strapped to her tank top.

Don't know why I told you that.

Although you're
old enough now to know.

How old are you, anyway?

Nine.

Hmm.
I thought you were younger.

How much money do
I owe the curse jar?

Thirty-two dollars, I think.

You get me that,

and I'll tell you
how you can find her.

Deal?

Deal.

Who is that?

That would be your mother.

She showed up on the doorstep

of one of the churches
I was working.

With you in her belly.

And a past
that needed cleansing.

She stayed a while.

And after she gave birth to
you,

I was sure she'd said goodbye
to the whore of Babylon

that coursed through her veins.

She didn't say
any goodbyes at all.

Don't go looking for her,
Little Red.

It's like the story of fire.

Man wishes for it.

Thinks it will take
his demons away.

But he only ever
gets burned in the end.

Polyester prison.

Never-ending loop.

What's happening to me?

Did I destroy that tape?

Salem, my sweet boy.

Stop watching me.

Okay?

Stop.

I just want to be left alone.

Never!

But now, I have this.

I have fucking this.

And now, I'm seeing things
that I can't explain.

And I need you to fucking
leave me alone.

Salem, are you
gonna get me my cigarettes?

You're nothing but a pile
of ashes in there.

And you weren't anything to me
when you were alive.

And you're not now.

Don't forget about
my cigarettes!

Let me sleep.

And not have to fucking think
about any of this.

The well?

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Wake up.

Wake up!

Salem.

It's good to finally meet you.

You've been down here

this whole time watching me.

Watching.

Wondering what it is
that drives you.

Is it the cop?

The cop who
never believes you?

Or the pink-haired whore who
plays pretend beyond the book?

No.

No.

What drives your beating heart
is something

you will never get back.

Your beautiful wife.

I needed to turn her
against you.

And then it hit me.

What if...

...I make you untouchable?

Who could ever love
a sex offender?

And here's the rub.

All it took was a kid
who wanted to make

a hundred fucking bucks.

You took everything for me!

Well, you're in luck.

We're beneath the wishing well.

And if you want
to have it back,

all you gotta do...

...is make a wish.

Did you make your wish?

Your mother.

Did she ever tell you
she was a dancer?

Dancing for strangers with
singles and slimy fingers?

Who's down there?

She had a stage name.

Called herself Fata Morgana.

I know someone's
taken my cigarettes.

Fata Morgana.

Give me my cigarettes.

She loved her cigarettes

more than her own children.

Children?

I feel for you, Salem.

All I do,
every night and day is...

feel for you.

Really, endlessly.

Make me look pretty!

May not have left you outside

a church for
the buzzards, but...

she might
as well have been a ghost,

caring for you the way she did.

I would have known about you.

You knew exactly
what kind of woman she was.

Bringing life into
this godforsaken world.

Discarding you, leaving
nothing but a card.

And so I tracked her down,
to this house.

Only to find her do
the exact same thing.

Leaving you, Salem,

a nine-year-old boy,

in the filthy paws
of a man she hardly knew.

Bernard.

Bernard's not
who you thought he was.

No. No, no, no, no.

Bernard.

A real lesson
for the young, and helpless.

He was good. I know it.

What, you think
he cared for you?

- I know he did.
- Salem, open your eyes.

You took him from me.

Salem, you have no idea

what the Bernards
of the world are capable of.

Behind closed doors,
when the lights fade,

when the eyes are off.

You know what I got?

I got... Monday.

Monday.

A different breed of monster.

A man who made me participate
in his massacre.

Massacre?

Massacre of one...

What is the massacre of one?

Only...

one...

suffered...

from the monstrosity.

Little Red,
what were you doing out there?

Where is everyone?

Who?

The people that were
in the church earlier.

I listened. I heard them.

They weren't laughing.

What?

The gas doesn't make
things funny.

It kills them.

Kills who?

Did you hit your head
or something, Little?

What did we do to them?

They went home,
like they always do.

Church is over.

Now you and I can
have some peace and quiet.

At least for another seven
days.

Why don't you be a good boy,

and go downstairs
and draw a nice, warm bath.

It's going to be
an extra cold night.

It may even rain.

Do you remember
where the bubbles are?

I don't want a bath.
I want to know what happened.

Enough!

A boy needs to bathe.

Now, go downstairs,
and get the tub running.

That man...

He forced my hand.
He forced...

He forced me to be
a crazy part of his sick,

twisted fucking sermon.

God, help me!

God, help me,
God, help me.

God, help me!

Fuck, that's good.

Enjoy your last breaths.

- It's like the good stuff...

at the dentist.

It makes everything funny.

Can a camera...

capture a man's soul?

There are no clothes allowed...

in my polyester prison.

Take off
that stupid suit and tie.

What-- what are
you talking about?

They dropped the case, baby.

Yeah?

A kid came forward.

He testified,
and said that someone paid him

just to stand there and scream.

It's finally over.

It's over?

You were just changing out of
your wetsuit, for Christ's sake.

I know.

I mean, who doesn't
show skin at the beach?

Nobody believed me.

Nope.

I believed you.

How should we celebrate?

How should we celebrate
your new lease on life?

Yeah.

I think there's some
champagne in the fridge.

Champagne, it is.

All right.

You wait right there, okay?

I told you, fucking set up.

Nobody fucking believed me.
Never did.

You believe me?

Does he have a name, this man?

Monday.

And he called me Little Red.

There is nobody more disgraceful

than those who prey
on our children.

Leaving already?

Karisma?

Karisma?

Boo.

It's been many years
since my life was taken from
me.

Baby, I got your favorite.

Let's drink.

315 days ago,
I took it back

the only way you can...

by force.

I am not the boy
below the church anymore.

What I am now...

is whoever I want to be.