All language subtitles for Anjos Rebeldes 4 The Prophecy 4 - Uprising 2005

I am here to find one lost soul.

I have no interest in
tyrants or heroes.

Rather, I prefer the
lives of smaller men.

The ones left behind.

So, let me ask you...

How did we do today?

You need to realize, Serban...

See, if I take a shitcan off
the street with a tool.

That's one more tool I need to worry about.
Understand what I'm trying to say to you?

Shh, just nod.

Good boy. Now...

What else have you got?

Not again. I do wish you'd stop shoving
things down your knickers, Serban.

Makes me feel so cheap.

I believe that completes
this evening's transaction.

Serban.

- See ya.
- Aah!

Tell me something.

Does your life really
flash before your eyes?

I've gotta know.

Until next time, Serban.

Believe me, there
will be a next time.

Count on it.

Psst!

- Dani Simionescu?
- Who wants to know?

John Riegert, Interpol.

I was referred by
your supervisor...

Captain Radesgiascu?

I need some assistance on a
case that just went local

and he seems to think you're
the best man for the job.

- Based on what?
- Two things really.

Firstly, you've lived in London. Which
makes you slightly easier on my ear.

Second, they say you have - and how
shall I put this delicately? -

a special rapport with the
street life around here.

Really?

- I'm not interested.
- You don't know what I'm selling yet.

I'll tell you something. John.

The first rule of the streets...

Know your product.

I don't suppose you engage in
a lot of high-speed chases?

You can go home now, Allison.

Really. Father,
it's not a problem.

It is for me.

Good day. Don't
forget to lock up.

Father?

Father Constantin?

Oh. God.

So, what brought you
back to Bucharest?

- I'm sure you read my file.
- It says you were born here.

But on first impressions. You don't
strike me as the nostalgic type.

Your parents were killed by the secret
police six years before the revolution.

Bad break for a kid
of any age, I'm sure.

Must feel a little weird coming
back to all this change.

Look, am I dropping you
off somewhere or what?

And that was...?

Possible homicide.

He was tossed from up there.

It's a local tradition to leave
a coin behind for the dead?

Yeah, yeah, that's right.

Pays their way to heaven.

Quaint.

I... I knew him.

He was... he was a dealer.

Busted him a couple of times.

Jesus.

What happened to his heart?

- Are you OK?
- Yeah, I'm fine.

- Are you sure?
- I said I'm fucking fine!

I think you'll find that the heart
went missing before he fell.

That part of your case profile.
Is it. John?

John Riegert, Interpol.

Miron lordache.

And this is Valimorana Badila.

But you can call us Laurel and Hardy.
Everybody else does.

Pigeons.

It's a big pigeon.

Thank you.

Oh, I pulled the rap sheet on
the dead bloke - Serban Bachu.

- I hope you don't mind.
- Why should I mind?

Well, you say you busted Serban
once or twice. Drugs, I'd assume.

Only I couldn't find a
reference to any such bust.

Oh, well, you see, that's 'cause we're a little
bit shoddy on the old paperwork over here.

Right.

Tell me, what's a rôtissoire?

A rôtissoire.

Well, now, that's when you get a potential
suspect, you wrap him up in a bit of carpet.

You beat seven bells of shit out of him.
No cuts, no bruises.

Just a tiny bit of
internal bleeding.

But, then again, you already knew that.
Didn't you. John?

Yes, I believe it was mentioned
in the complaint Serban lodged

with the general inspector.

I didn't do it. If that's
what you're driving at. John.

You see, I like to
see their faces.

You're acting rather cavalier for
a man in your tenuous position.

That's fucking it!

Right, let's get one
thing straight.

I know when someone's trying to sweat
me and I don't fucking like it.

So if you've got something to say.
Say it to my fucking face.

Or you get the fuck out
of my fucking car.

I believe you're guilty
of nothing more than

a certain degree of
moral ambivalence.

Dreary little outpost at the
edge of the Holy Roman Empire.

How unexceptional.

Love the apron. Belial.

Do you like it?

You should grab
yourself a body, Simon.

They're to die for. Really.

You eat, you fuck, you kill.

And then you go home and
write poems all about it.

No, thanks. I don't
need the temptation.

Ooh. God's little choirboy. You
don't know what you're missing.

Neither do you.

Well, singing hymns isn't
really my thing, sweetie.

I can't even carry a tune.

So...

I slog halfway around the
world searching for the book.

Only to find that you knew
where it was all along.

And I thought we were friends.

You and I haven't been friends
for a very long time. Belial.

Old grudges. Mon ami.

Come on. It's a new
day out there.

Carpe diem and all that.

Nice work.

Always good to have a monkey do
your heavy lifting, isn't it?

It's just a matter of
picking the right monkey.

Where is it? Where's
the Lexicon?

It's gone.

I don't suppose you know where?

It's in safe hands.

I will have that book, Simon.

Allison, it's Mom.

Your brother Derek says
you've left town again.

You have to keep
taking your meds.

Please, Allison. If you're
there, pick up the phone.

- Please, Allison.
- Don't.

I love you.

That book is
everything to you now.

Nothing else matters.

Protect it.

Don't shut out the voices
in your head, Allison.

Not when you need them most.

Someone is coming.

By the time you know his face.
It'll be too late.

He's always changing
to avoid detection.

You can't stay here.
Do you understand?

He is going to rip you apart.

Give me some kind of sign that you
understand what I'm telling you.

That's my girl.

Here.

So where exactly do you live?

Just around the corner.

I'll see you at the station house.
8am.

Un-fucking-believable.

Laurel, it's me, it's Dani.

Yeah, I need you to run a facial rec on a
John Riegert through Interpol's database.

See what you come up with. Yeah, well.
He doesn't check out with me, all right?

- I thought we said 8am.
- No, you said 8am.

You're upset. Did something
happen last night?

Not really.

Just some nut bag cuts his fingers
off with a rusty tin of pilchards

because someone tells him to.

- Same old same, really.
- Good.

Let's move on.

So what we got?

Her name is Carmen Macovei.

She was selling secondhand
clothes on Silvestru.

Her husband was reporting
her missing three days ago.

It seems she used a
nail file on herself.

Nice touch.

Don't bother looking
for the heart.

He always takes it.

They say it's the seat
of the human soul.

Father Constantin. Where is he?

Oh, I'm sorry, but we are still
preparing him for the viewing.

No visitors are allowed.

- How do you stand it?
- I'm sorry.

All this death?

I think that I am helping the
dead pass to a better place.

Well, here. Have a taste of
that better place, Gloria.

On me.

Forgive me. Father.
For I have sinned.

Endlessly.

What am I doing?

I'm trying on a new skin suit...

Florin.

Shh.

Shh.

That's right.

Yeah. Yeah, I'm a cop.

Good, good, good, good, good.

By what?

What kind of entities?

Come on. Joe. I want to
know what you call them.

Good ones or bad ones?

What? What of them?

What do you mean by that?

Oh, no, no, no, no. Don't you go.
Joe. Don't you go.

Don't you go.

Damn!

Hey!

You seemed so absorbed. I didn't
want to break your concentration.

- Do you want a lift or something?
- Only if you're not too busy chatting.

Right.

Look, can you refresh my memory?
Where exactly are you staying?

- Oi, where do you wanna be dropped off?
- Keep going.

- Yeah, but the last time I dropped you off...
- I'm staying somewhere else now.

Genius.

Turn here.

What's all this about, then?

Bring a crowbar.

This better have something to do
with the case, you understand me?

- No one's here.
- There will be.

What exactly are we looking for?

This was a country house for the party
elite back in the days of the communists.

Am I right?

Yeah.

Only it was more than
that, wasn't it?

It was also an informal
headquarters for the secret police.

Dani.

I could use some
light down here.

I'm gonna give you
exactly ten seconds

for you to tell me what
we're doing down here,

or I swear to you, I'm gone.

Please try to maintain your
professional detachment.

Nine.

Eight.

- The past is speaking to us.
- Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

You remember that day.

There was a man in a pressed black suit.
Round glasses. His name was Treptow.

He met your parents
in the waiting room.

Your parents, it seems. Had
been identified as subversives.

Enemies of the state.

They never knew why
they were accused.

Or by whom.

But at that moment.

They knew they would never
see each other again.

What they couldn't possibly know

is how their tiny, forgotten lives would one
day change the balance of the universe.

Beginning with one
terrified little girl.

Your mother would die before
giving up her youngest.

The little girl had suffered
a terrible cut to her face.

But it was that very injury
that proved her salvation.

Since it allowed the nurse to
remove her for emergency treatment.

The child was spirited out of
the country the very next day.

Listed as an orphan for the
benefit of 1.000 needful mothers.

You know why you weren't
exterminated that day

alongside your devoted mother
and father, don't you?

Of course you do.

- You turned them in.
- No.

But you can't be blamed. Really.

You were just a child. Doing
as you were taught in school.

Learning to spot enemies of the
state wherever they might lurk.

However close to home.

Who are you?

Is it any wonder you still
commit routine acts of torture

in the commission
of your daily job?

Did you really think that, by coming
back here after the communists fell.

All this would
simply be forgotten?

It must have been ripped from your
mother's hands as she was dragged away.

What the fucking hell
were those things?

- I told you, the past.
- What?

You'd probably call them ghosts.

Understand this house does
not give up its dead, Dani.

The atrocities committed here will
echo forever inside those walls.

Thanks for coming all the way out here,
lon. I just didn't know who else to call.

- The night that Father Constantin died...
- God rest his soul.

Well, he had a book in his hand.
A Bible.

But there was writing in it that
wasn't part of the regular scripture.

The words were
writing themselves.

Allison, Allison.

A double "Allison."
that's rough.

OK.

Knock yourself out.

All the way to the back.
The end of Revelations.

You don't see it, do you?
I really am a nut case.

- It's not that.
- What is it then?

I think I'm going to faint.

Then you do see it.

There's a school of thought.
Very marginalized.

But it's been around
for centuries.

- Lon, you're...
- Oh, yeah.

Yeah, I get them a lot.
It's nothing.

Anyway, the thinking
goes that...

Revelations is not just the
last chapter of the Bible.

It's still incomplete.

Incomplete? How?

Awaiting further
dictation from God.

- You think...
- There's supposed to be this book. OK?

It's called the
Prophets' Lexicon.

Whoever is chosen to carry it.
Basically...

Basically what?

Holds the fate of
humanity in their hands.

No, it is not me.

It's not me.

Don't look at me like that.

Just...

just a second. Sorry.

I'll be back.

Hurry up, lon.

Oh, come on.

He's coming.

He is a demon named Belial
and he is going to kill you.

Belial.

Don't stop to wonder how or why.

Just go.

If you've ever trusted the voices in
your head before, trust them now.

Allison.

Allison.

Simon.

We have to go now.

We need to get to your sister.

My sister?

She's alive.

And living in this city.

She's alive?

And what does she have to
do with any of this. John?

She has everything
to do with this.

She's at the heart
of a prophecy.

Prophecy?

What?

What the fuck are you talking about.
John?

Let's just say in some vast.
Overreaching, cosmic sort of way.

She drew short straw.

You know what? I'm tired.

I'm tired of this.

Don't talk to me.
Don't follow me.

In fact, don't even
fucking look at me!

I told you, piss off!

Go away!

- We need to find your sister.
- Leave me alone.

- Phone.
- What?

Yeah.

- What you got?
- I have...

run the facial recognition.
Like you asked me.

And I have files from
seven different cases.

Your man is a real tourist.
Malta. Afghanistan.

- Cuba. Tibet. Belize.
- And?

Six of the seven photos were
taken from the last few years.

- And the other?
- This one is a real nut case.

It does no sense to me.

It's from the Securitate files.

Right here in Bucharest. Dated in '86.
November.

No.

It can't be. It's gotta be
a different John Riegert.

Not if you're looking at the
same photo I'm looking at.

Your mother didn't
weep for you, Dani.

Not then.

But she weeps for you now.

You can hear it every time you
close your eyes, can't you?

Tell me who you are.

Are you sure that's
what you really want?

I'm sorry. Father.

This is... this is fucking insane.
Why should I believe you?

Because nothing will ever make
sense to you again if you don't.

I need your help, Dani.

But more than that,
you need mine.

You have to understand that, to an angel.
Just like man, the Word is everything.

Like you, we have fought
terrible wars over its meaning.

And just like you, we have created
divisions among ourselves

that are not what you
might call convenient.

Like... like heaven and hell?

Yes, but now there is a book.

A version of your Holy Bible that
can end that dispute forever.

Because it will contain what is essentially
the last word, the final revelation.

It's not yet complete, but when it is.
Whosoever has that book

will have an insurmountable
advantage over the rest of us.

Yes.

He'll know which horse to bet on
before the last race is even won.

Or which horse to kill if he wants
a different outcome, right?

Spoken like an angel.

That book decides the
future for us all.

And you're saying that my
sister's got this book?

Yes.

Right. And where did she get it?

She was the choice of
an angel named Simon.

An angel named Simon?

And why? Why did Simon
choose my baby sister?

Broken people make the
best pawns, Dani.

Just say I believe just half
of what you're telling me...

How do I know what
side you're on?

Whether you're one of the good ones
or one of the fucking bad ones?

Look around.

Look at yourself, Dani.

Do you really think those
distinctions still apply?

Right now, for your good and the good
of your kind, you have to look at me

as the lesser of two evils.

Derek. Hey, it's Allison.

Look, I... I just need to
ask you a question. OK?

What do you know about Belial?

Yeah, the demon Belial.

No, please don't ask me why.
Please.

I just need you to help me. OK?

Thank you. Derek. Thank you.
Thank you, thank you. You rock.

Yeah, just call me back at this number.
Room eight.

Thanks.

Why did you just do that?

Because he'll be dead of an
overdose in the next three hours.

Paying his way to heaven.

It was you.

You were there.

That night.

At the church.

You killed Serban. You
pushed him out of the tower.

I wanted you to feel personally
involved in the case.

You fucking son of a bitch.
You used me.

I just finished
what you started.

As you say. One more
scumbag off the street.

- You killed them all, didn't you?
- No. Just the one.

Quick word.

Yeah.

Excuse us.

- Right. What we got?
- We got a man.

A few witnesses saw him in a café toilet
shortly before the last victim was found

with his face in a sink
and without his heart.

Who we know is an undertaker

who is missing from his funeral home since
yesterday afternoon. You understand me?

- No, no. I don't understand.
- It doesn't matter.

The point is, the suspect is content
to confess to killing the undertaker.

And get this. He's a priest.

This thing is more like some
kind of a cult or something.

- Right, I want to talk to him now.
- Can't. He'll only talk to Riegert alone.

Which brings us right back
to the question du jour.

Who the fuck is John Riegert?

I know where she is.

It's just a matter of time now.

- Have you won her over?
- I haven't had the chance.

Yet.

But I will.

Who are they talking about?

You can still come back.

- This can all be undone.
- No, it can't.

Nice move, by the way.
Recruiting the girl's brother.

I never would have
considered that.

Frankly, I expected
more of a scuffle.

But, then again, you do have a lot
of self-imposed limitations here.

Hardly even makes a game of it.

Don't worry. I think I
can keep it interesting.

I do hope so.

For old times' sake.

Is it me or is it getting
a bit chilly in here?

Last chance. Belial.

It's going to be a cold day
when I submit to you...

John.

A very, very cold day.

This one's something
of a bleeder.

He's having a seizure!

Get the doctor here, quick!

Must have been something I ate.

That won't be necessary. I
believe you need one of these.

- Hey, where are we going?
- I have to go.

- Why do you talk like that?
- Sorry, but I have to go.

- Something's wrong?
- No, nothing's wrong.

- You're sure?
- Of course I'm sure.

Then what am I supposed
to tell the captain?

Tell him anything you like.

Now, was that really necessary?

Trust me, you never want to see a body
alive after the soul has been discarded.

Oh, no, no, no.

I got it. I got it. Go.
Thanks very much.

Could somebody please
bring me a towel?

From here on. You need
to understand something.

What?

You need to understand that if
you haven't stopped following me

by the time I get to the
top of these stairs.

I'm going to have to put a
bullet through your head.

What the hell is wrong with you?

You do realize that they will
be keeping you in custody

till you come up with some
half-reasonable explanation

why you've got someone's
beating heart in your hand?

- Any suggestions?
- Um...

No.

No, I can't get you
out of this one.

And... and you can't just waltz
straight out of here either.

Now might be a good time to
waltz right out of here.

Derek?

Hey, what have you got for me?

OK.

All right, so that means that
he's part of Satan's legion.

Uh-huh.

Uh-huh. Are you sure?

- No, I just...
- Think back, Allison.

Remember.

It just doesn't make any sense to me.
Derek, I-I don't understand.

How can he be a purer
evil than Satan?

Yeah, I know it's just the ravings
of drunken monks. I do, but...

You're not safe here.

You know. Derek. I
really gotta get going.

No, you can't call me here because I'm
not gonna be here anymore after tonight.

Yes, I will call you, I promise.
As soon as I get a chance. OK?

All right. Tell Mom
and Dad that I'm OK.

OK, bye-bye.

Good girl. Now look down.

Oh, my God.

Cold day.

Brilliant.

So, who exactly are
we looking for?

- The one you call Laurel.
- How can you be so sure it's in him?

He's the only one
unaccounted for.

Please don't make me do your job.
I have enough to do already.

Turn left up here.

He's going to try and kill your sister
before she reaches the country house.

- Why?
- Because he's not in control there.

Turn left.

Oh, great.

Just shove them out of the way.

They're human beings.
John. Not sheep.

- If you insist on splitting hairs.
- I do, actually.

That one looks like a sheep.

Oh, your homing instincts have
got an awful lot to be desired.

Suffice to say that a great many of my
instincts are compromised in this form.

So am I ever going to see
you in your real form?

Yes, eventually.

Is that a promise?

Oh, yes. That's a promise.

- Follow the taxi.
- What?

Don't, just don't.

Just be a good little
monkey and drive.

Aah!

It was quite a party while it lasted.
Allison. You really should have been there.

The regime fell
almost overnight.

No one was spared.

Except you.

You survived with
your soul intact.

Lucky, lucky you.

Who are you?

Why am I here?

Come on. I told you all this
on the day you were born.

Don't you remember?

Sorry I'm late. We had to
stop for petrol and sweets.

What a waste.

You know, you really could
have made more of this place.

The evil that bred here.
Such an opportunity.

And you let it slip away.

And now what have you got left?

Just this poor little head case.

And a police officer

who thinks he can buy salvation with the
money he rips off from drug dealers.

Really.

And you wonder why
I deserted you?

You remember the first war?
The big one.

We stood on those ramparts long
after we knew our cause was lost.

Together we beat back Michael's
hordes right down to the bitter end.

When you fell, I fell.

When you rose up in that lake of fire.
I was right there by your side.

Still defiant, still proud.
Opposing God at every turn.

I loved you.

As my master.

Just as you once loved yours.

But along the way. The lines
got blurred, didn't they?

Well, there were no more rallying cries.
No more odes of vindication.

No more black, no more white.

Just endless, endless
shades of gray.

What happened to you?

Did you get tired?
Or just bored?

Still, no matter. Nici problemâ.

I'm here to fix all that. With a
little leg up from that book.

Look, I don't pretend to
love you or your kind.

All I'm offering you is a way
to restore the balance again.

To make it like it was, when there
were saints, Allison, and true demons.

And you could actually
tell one from the other.

I just want it all to make sense again.
Nothing more.

And all you have to do
is give me that book.

Don't.

Don't do it. Lucia.

What are you? Another demon?

Close.

He's your brother.

Go ahead. Touch the scar on your face.
It might help you remember.

Dear beloved Dani.

Who betrayed his own parents.
And yours, to the Securitate.

And in so doing, happened to condemn
them to a rather grisly death.

Lucia.

Don't.

I'm so...

so sorry for what I did.

I'm not Lucia.

All I want...

all I've ever wanted
is to be forgiven.

Just that.

Just to be forgiven.

My name is Allison.

And I don't know you.

I've never known you.

Oh, please. Don't get all dramatic on me.
Just give me the book.

That book is a weapon, Allison.

For reasons that you
could never grasp.

Do not give it up.

Well, let me put it another way.
Just give me the book.

Or I'll rip your heart out and
feed it to those dogs outside.

He's lying. He can't touch you.

How do I know that?

Because this house, forgive the
overused metaphor, is hell on Earth.

It was ceded to me by virtue of the deeds
committed here which makes it my domain.

My house.

My rules.

What about you?

I don't want the book.

It repulses me.

- I'd much prefer you kept it.
- Oh, brilliant.

You're not even going for the win now?
How pathetic.

Great Satan himself. And
he's playing for the draw?

There's always tomorrow. Belial.

Well, I hate to see
you go, Allison.

But if you really must, bye.

Just know. The moment you
step through that door.

You are no longer
under my protection.

The devil's protection?

Of course, you can always stay here.
On hell's half-acre.

Look on it as an embassy where you can
always get asylum for as long as you want.

Decades, eons.

After all, time is of no concern
to a little angel like you, is it?

Just give me the book and
walk away free and clear.

Or face eternity here.
Alone with you know who.

Your choice, sweetheart.

I thought you had this all
figured out by now, Dani.

You kill this vessel. I just move
straight on to the next one.

And who might that be?

Well, now, let me see.

I suppose that would be you.

Well, I pretty much
thought the same thing.

Only two rounds left now.

That's right.

One for you, one for me.

Well, you know what they say
about suicide, my friend.

Go straight to hell.
Do not pass go.

- Could do with a change of scenery.
- You wouldn't.

Oh, well, you're such a
shrewd judge of human nature.

You tell me.

He's still here.

He can't stay outside
a body for long.

It's so easy

to work with these monkeys.

Maybe, but they can still
bite like a son of a bitch.

You never needed my
forgiveness, Dani.

Not like I need yours now.

Bye.

It's done.

For now.

Where is he?

Belial?

He's where he belongs.

With me.

God created the world
in seven days.

This is the eighth.

Remember.

There are still so many out
there who despise you.

And your kind.

Why?

Because of what you are.

And more than that.

What you might yet become.

What about you?

Do you despise me?

Sleep well...

Allison.

Ripped by: SkyFury