Original subtitles

Isn't there anything that we can do for her?

I shall be dead in a few hours.

Hush, little baby. Your mummy will have to put you in the cellar again.

Where'd you get that?

Come now, dear boy, you're over 600 years old,

and we still have to talk about where babies come from?

Did you steal it?

I created this baby myself.

It's getting lots of compliments in my nursing mother's group.

You wouldn't believe how susceptible those women are from postpartum depression.

They'll sell their souls for a night's sleep.

Something on your mind?

It's you.

You're doing it.

What?

I can't stop it.

All I think about is the plague.

Death.

You're pushing the memories into my mind.

I'm doing no such thing. I'm putting all my energies into little Damien now.

Not while you're on duty.

You have a name for me?

Edwin Yancey.

Isn't it lovely?

These are all my little souls.

I used to gather them myself, but by the 14th century, I needed some help.

That's how I found Morgan. He was a monk back then, so he played hard to get,

but I found that with the right bait, you can catch any fish you want.

In the end, he came to work for me. He became a collector.

Then recently he made me the most interesting proposal

he wants to seek salvation for his clients.

I decided to let him try.

For now.

When Mother Mouse came back to her little blue house,

she found that Michael and Matilda had eaten all the cheese.

All of it!

And their bellies were so big that they looked like furry

little basketballs with snouts and pointy tails.

Well, Mother Mouse was so mad that even her whiskers turned bright red.

And Matilda and Michael got very nervous.

But all they could do was roll back and forth, trying to point at each other,

saying, he did it. No, she did it.

What do you think Mother Mouse did to naughty little Michael and Matilda?

Well, I'm not going to spoil it for you. You'll just have to read the book.

Mr. Yancey.

Yes.

My name is Morgan Penn.

I've come to talk about your deal.

I've tried so hard to put it from my mind.

I stopped keeping track of the date years ago

so I don't think about it all the time.

Now it's time to go.

You still have 48 hours and a chance at redemption.

You mean I could live?

Let's go somewhere we can talk.

Oh, hi, Blair.

I'm just finishing up the article right now.

I'm sorry it's late.

No, no, no, no, I can handle it. I'm sorry.

If I don't have something to do, I really will go crazy.

Okay. Okay.

Hey.

How you doing, fuzzy?

I know you.

You're Edwin Yancey. I recognize you from the picture on the back of your books.

They were my favorites when I was a kid.

Well, can I have your autograph?

Sure. I can't believe you know Edwin Yancey.

Well, Kate, grab a booth. I'll order for you.

There's a reason I'm a bachelor.

Pretty girls make me all flustered.

But I think that one has her eye on you.

Mr. Yancey, I've seen a lot of strange deals.

But I never met anyone who sold their soul just to write children's books.

Oh, yes.

Ideal.

I know it's odd, but just about all I ever wanted

was to gladden the hearts of children.

Writer's cliché.

But I myself have had, well, a pretty horrific childhood.

My father was an alcoholic who worked for the railroads.

One day, he was drunk on the job. It was horrible.

He slipped under a train and lost his legs.

After that, my mother, Viola, she had to support us and, well,

she took it out on all of us.

Especially me.

So, it may seem silly to you, but it was worth it to me.

If Maya grew up with your books, you must have been successful before your deal.

Oh, I was, here in Canada.

But now, my books have been translated into 32 languages.

I've traveled all over doing readings for kids

like the one I was doing in the bookstore. I love those.

I've been so lucky.

I just wanted to use my talents to do good.

Are there really only two days left?

This is all the time we have.

Did you get this phone from him?

I wrote a whole book once about a boy who wanted to

push a mysterious button to see what would happen.

That's the button that takes your soul.

Why would you have a button like that if you help people?

I've taken a vow never to push the button.

Always start with dessert.

Then eat dinner if there's room. Dog in the

Log. That was my favorite book. You okay?

Yeah.

Edwin and I have to talk now.

Okay, I'll leave you guys alone.

It was really great to meet you.

Goodbye.

What's wrong?

All right, the key to redemption is finding

out who was harmed as a result of your deal,

who suffered for your good luck.

It may be obscure in your case, but can you think of anyone?

There is one person.

She's a woman. Her name is Donna Barnes. She lives here in Vancouver.

She's a housewife, but she wants to be a children's book writer.

What happened to her?

Her book was rejected by my publisher,

and she seems to have convinced herself that I engineered

it somehow to keep a rival out of the market.

She sent me some very nasty letters.

Creepy, really threatening.

This woman, I'm afraid she's not well. I think we better pay her a visit.

What?

Hello, uh, Ms. Barnes.

My name is, um... Edwin Yancey.

You little weasel!

How dare you come to my house after what you did?

What's the matter?

Are you afraid that I'm going to tell everybody about

how you stomp on other writers and steal their ideas?

Because that's the only explanation for your getting

rich off those books which are so treacly and stupid,

unlike mine, which at least has some edge.

I could speak to my publisher, see if he'd be maybe willing to take a second look.

Don't do me any favors.

Is it all going to be this difficult?

And then in August, this is still three years ago,

I did a reading at the cutest little bookstore in Edmonton run by a married couple,

Nancy and Bill, and had 13 children come to the reading.

Edwin, I don't need to hear every minute of your life for the last 10 years.

Can you think of anyone else besides Donna Barnes who's been hurt by your deal?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'll try to focus more.

It's just that whenever I think about why we're doing this... Take a break.

Morgan Pym.

Mr. Pym.

Jerry Slate.

Hi. I'm working. Can I call you back?

I just need to ask you a question.

Okay.

Have you had any contact with my son?

No.

Why?

Well, a few days ago, Gabe took your card off my desk,

and apparently he was trying to call you.

Which is really weird because he doesn't talk.

I've never met him. How would he even know about me?

Maybe he overheard us the night you came over to our house.

Slate.

Oh, and another thing.

He's in the hospital right now.

But the night he was admitted...

Yeah, thanks.

Sleeping like a baby. What are you up to?

Why did you put me at the hospital when Jerry's son went in?

Could just be a coincidence.

Coincidences don't smell like brimstone.

This whole thing stinks. The hospital, these visions I keep having of now Edwin.

He spends his time reading stories to children.

He hasn't hurt anybody except maybe one grouchy housewife.

Yes, it is a mystery.

I think you may find the balancing bad luck in this case a little surprising.

Bombs out. You want a boost?

It's just loose.

That kid in 401 must have left that here.

That's what the corpse looks like.

Assuming all the body parts in the ball are his.

You know what?

Exports.

Interesting line of work.

It's challenging.

Well, I think I've got everything I need from Miss Kandinsky.

Can I see her now?

Yeah, sure.

You're not suspects.

You'd think it's a serial killer.

The hand in the ball, the pinky was severed.

I know serial killers have a habit of keeping souvenirs.

I'm going to have to ask you and Miss Kandinsky not to talk to the media.

We've been keeping the pinky thing quiet.

Helps eliminate the false confessions.

There's a lot of crazies out there who want to take credit.

How many victims? Mr. Pym. You want us to keep quiet about this?

22 that fit the pattern.

Yeah, it's Edwin.

I got some sleeping pills, but you have to call me first thing in the morning.

I will.

Maya, it's me.

The police are sure it was random.

Yeah, they told me the same thing, but still.

It makes you realize how much bad stuff is going on around you.

You don't even think about it.

What's the matter? Are you okay?

I'm sorry.

What? Why? Where?

I've got to go.

I want to ask around the neighborhood. See if anybody knows anything about this.

Morgan, it's the middle of the night. Whoever did this is still out there.

I'll be back in a few hours.

Call me if you get scared.

After that and another Viola, she had to support us.

It's such an amazing coincidence, isn't it?

I'm a collector too.

Then you told me it was a lie.

Is that why you sold your soul?

So you could kill people and not get caught?

How did you know where I live?

He told me.

I wanted you to find out. I need to unburden myself.

That's why I left you that present in the hallway.

You sick bastard!

You murder people and then write books about it for children.

Actually, I write the books first when I'm planning it, but it's just the titles.

The stories are very enjoyable. How many?

How many in your ten years? How many fingers in that bag?

Oh, there were more than that.

Sometimes when I'm watching TV, I run out of Cheetos. Your time is up,

Edwin Yancey. When I let you go.

He's been killing people for decades before he made his deal.

Why would you make a deal with Unless, of course,

they seal it themselves by making a deal with me. For everyone else,

there's always that chance of redemption.

Well, he's not getting redemption from me.

You better help him, same as the others, or our little deal is off.

Don't you remember what you said when you asked

me if you can try and save their pathetic souls?

They're all deserving.

That's the point.

Nobody ever understands what they're getting into when they deal with you.

I guess now we'll find out just how full you are of the Lord's forgiveness.

Please, don't hurt me.

I'm not going to hurt you.

But if we're going to seek redemption for you, you can't lie to me anymore.

Thank you.

It makes sense.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I've done.

I can't help myself.

Ever since I was a little kid, I've killed things.

Bugs.

Small animals. I tried for so many years to

control it, but finally, I just couldn't.

I've done such terrible things.

If you're so sorry, why'd you make a deal with

the devil so you could kill even more people?

No, that wasn't it at all.

I really made my deal so I could do good. Good?

It's true. I sold my soul so I could kill anyone I wanted. I couldn't stop myself.

But I also asked for guidance about who to kill.

I asked the devil to guide me toward people, bad people like myself.

And ever since then, the only people I've killed were people who deserve to die.

People who were committing horrible crimes and getting away with it undetected.

Oh, like the man in the beach ball.

His name is Arthur something, a homeless man.

He was killing other street people.

Look, I've been following him for a month. I have pictures.

I can use a flash, obviously, but my telephoto lens really worked nicely.

Anyway, now he's dead.

So really, it's like I'm an angel, sort of, protecting people from killers like me.

That's true.

Don't you believe me?

I've heard this before. You could help me cleanse the world of the wicked,

the selfish, the monstrous.

Please.

You have to believe me, because it's true.

And I want to be a good person like you. I want you to be proud of me.

The only way I'll ever be proud of you is if you truly

make amends for all the evil things you've done.

I will.

I swear, I will.

And the good news is, since I've done so much good,

I'm sure my amends won't be very difficult. So it should be an easy week for you.

Oh, do you mind if I put my pinkies in your fridge?

I don't want them to spoil.

They're not going to spoil.

Because the first thing we're going to do is take that bag to the

police so they can identify your victims from the fingerprints.

No, I don't think that's a very good idea.

Who would expect to ever make amends if you

don't take responsibility for your murders?

Well, I think there are two obvious reasons why we can't go to the police.

One, they'd immediately take me into custody,

and then I wouldn't be able to see you again before my deal ends,

which would be bad because...

You're really my conscience now, and I need you to make sure that I seek redemption.

And two?

And two, I still have one more person to kill before my deal is up. What?

You've met her, actually.

That Donald Barnes woman.

She's a black widow.

That's what we call a female serial killer in the trade.

She's already done her husband. She's about to kill her stepchildren.

I have to finish her before my time is up. If I didn't, that really would be a sin,

wouldn't it? You're insane.

If the Barnes woman is a killer, we'll tell the police.

Please.

If she were stupid enough to get caught by the police,

she wouldn't be a serial killer, would she?

And besides, there's no death penalty in Canada.

Even if they caught her, she'd be out in ten years. Where's the justice in that?

You're not the angel of death.

Who dies, who gets punished?

It's up to God.

Well, personally, I think there are times when God is very lax in his duties.

Sometimes I think he doesn't even care.

If he does, why did he make me?

Sorry.

Sore subject.

I didn't mean to depress you.

Look, just come with me. If you're going to help me save myself,

you need to see what I see, know what I know.

I'm not going to let you kill anyone. No.

No killing. Tonight. Tonight.

You're right.

My powers must be waning.

Straighten my back putting that man into the beach bowl.

I love children, you know.

I was a normal child myself till I got hit in

the head with a swing. No more games, Edwin.

What do you mean? Your first childhood belonged to Henry Lee Lucas.

This one belongs to John Wayne Gacy.

You've been studying up on serial killers.

I took a soul.

Show me what you want me to see.

She killed her husband last year.

Accidental drowning.

She won't start spending the insurance money until she gets rid of the kids.

She bought it last week. Used, no traces.

She's gonna do the kids while they're sleeping tomorrow night,

and set fire to the house to cover it up.

It's all written down in her diary in your bedroom.

You wanna see it, I'm sure she won't wake up.

Let's get outta here.

What is it?

A real sleeping pill.

Oh, I don't need this. I actually sleep like a baby.

How do I know it isn't poison?

If I were going to kill you, you'd already be dead.

I know what you think of me.

I'm a liar and a monster.

And I am.

God, I am.

But I'm still one of God's children, aren't I?

Don't we all deserve a chance to prove that we can be good?

All I'm saying is please, please don't give up on me.

You're my last chance.

Who are you, boy?

It's Morgan Pym.

Hello?

I need to see you.

They scheduled these readings weeks ago, and I hate to let the children down.

Hello!

This better be important.

I need your advice.

About what?

If you knew something was going to happen to someone who was evil,

punishment they deserved, that they wouldn't get any other way, what would you do?

Would you keep quiet?

Are you kidding? I tell the cops.

I don't want that stuff on my shoulders.

There's a woman named Donna Barnes.

She lives on Powell.

I have reason to believe that she killed her husband and others.

And something's going to happen to her?

But I'd like you to tell the police about her.

Another anonymous tip, huh?

Under one condition.

Tell me why you left the priesthood.

Did you find out that there was no God or something?

It was more complicated than that.

When I tell my son about my husband Danny,

I tell him angels took his dad because God needed him.

Sounds good, huh? But the truth is, Danny just died.

Come on, Peter. Just wait a second.

Let's start over.

Talk to the cops. Leave my name out of it.

And tell them if they don't get there soon, she'll already be dead.

Dr. Barnes, open the door.

Edwin.

Jerry Slate.

I'm at the house.

The police aren't here.

I've done a little checking. Whoever gave you that

tip about Barnes is wrong. Her husband is alive.

He's on a business trip to Seattle.

You told them everything!

Careful. You'll arouse my maternal instinct.

Everything was a lie.

He was going after Maya from the beginning. And you helped him!

You're the Great Redeemer.

I thought it would be a better test of your

faith if there were some personal stakes.

I've had my test of faith.

I failed it.

Where is she?

Why have you been shoving hints into my brain for

two days if you weren't going to help me now?

My ways are mysterious.

Solve your own problems.

Why he's not a killer?

Wasn't that Edwin's deal? To murder the guilty?

Edwin asked for guidance.

But like any omnipotent being, I like to leave my adherents their free will.

This is his choice.

And until his time is up, he gets to kill anyone he wants.

I haven't got much time left, you know.

You wanted me to fight you.

Who's here? Is somebody here? Please, please,

oh God, please, no, please. Maya, it's me.

Morgan, please, please, no, please, Morgan, please, please.

Of course I wanted you to find me.

I want you to understand me, Morgan. That's why I kept secrets.

I wanted you to see that there's more to me than just monsters.

I wanted you to know me as a writer, as a friend.

Are we friends, Morgan?

Liar!

I know you're just lying to save her, but it won't work.

If you're going to stop me, you'll have to fight me.

I'm not here to fight you.

I'm here to help you.

All right.

You can't fight me.

You have to make me repent. I feel the Holy Spirit.

I'm not gonna let you hurt her, Edwin.

Hallelujah!

She was just a bait.

To get you into my playpen. You could have saved

me with love and understanding, but you didn't.

So instead, you're going to be my finale.

It's possible.

Looks like the devil didn't tell you everything.

But this can't happen.

This wasn't my deal!

I get to kill whoever I want, and I wanted to kill you!

What does it mean that it's not counting down anymore?

It's over.

Is that it?

I'm saved.

My deal.

He didn't give me what I wanted.

The deal is broken. He did it on purpose.

He knew that I couldn't kill you. I'm free.

Ah, my, oh, God, no.

The devil didn't tell me about your immortality,

but he did tell me that you can't leave the city limits.

I guess we won't be seeing each other anymore, but it's been fun.

It doesn't matter where you go.

I'll turn you in.

And if you do, I'll wait till my big televised trial,

and when the cameras are rolling,

I'll tell everyone who's watching that I made a deal with the devil,

and we'll all go straight to hell together.

He told me that rule, too.

You win some, you lose some.

But hey!

You saved my soul.

You'll get it sooner or later. You'll still go to hell.

Never know. I might repent right at the end.

After all, no one's fate is ever truly sealed.

There's always that chance at redemption.

Even for you.