Canvas (2021) Movie Script
1
[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 fiance 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 fianc,
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 clich.
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
[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 fiance 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 fianc,
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 clich.
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