Witchblade s02e07 Episode Script

Lagrimas

Father? He walks among us.
Who? Nature's contradiction.
An angel's nightmare.
And where can I find him? You will see him only where you are not looking.
He's evil? He is capable of both great evil and great shame.
And he has wallowed in both for eons.
His despair makes him dangerous.
And what is it that he wants? His motives are unclear but perhaps we can use him to our advantage.
- He's powerful? - He is.
- He can derail death? - He can.
Can he bring you back? I am already back, my son.
Bury this in the catacombs.
A little early in the morning for the first homicide of the day.
Early bird catches the psycho.
My egg sandwich is gonna be all soggy by the time we get back to the office.
- Why didn't you eat it at home? - It's Tuesday.
So you don't eat breakfast at home on Tuesdays? - I didn't have time.
- Danny, cereal, bowl, milk, spoon, eat.
It's not that difficult.
- I was having sex.
- Do not brag.
We're trying to have another baby, and the ovulation tester stick was fire-engine red this morning.
- How romantic.
- Don't give me that.
Anyone besides your doctor seen you in your panties in the last year? Hey, I got a neighbor with a pair of high-powered, night vision-equipped Bushnells, thank you.
Now I'm interested.
- Danny, sex purely for procreation is - Like Christmas.
Yeah? Well, I'm always worried about, you know, lapping her and hitting the finish line too soon and then her not being satisfied.
But, when you are in a target-friendly environment holding the connubial hall pass with an egg in the crosshairs you just lock and load.
Saturation bombing of the ovum.
I do what I can.
Murder.
It's what's for breakfast.
Caleb Horton, white male, 65.
Died of a combination of asphyxiation due to hanging and blunt force trauma to the rear occipital.
- That all? - And I'd add a broken heart.
What do you mean? Burst capillaries in the whites of the eye imply infarction, as well.
- Or a hell of an orgasm.
- Full left side of the homicide menu.
Every bone in both hands was also broken pre-mortem.
So someone was pretty angry with this guy.
I think he was clergy.
Why? Pulled this out of his throat.
What is that? It's his crucifix.
- A ritual killing? - Yeah, or a ritual over-killing.
Whatever happened to the simple expediency of a.
22 behind the ears? A shiv to the aorta? A frigging bat across the temple? Why does every murder lately have to be this new, break-the-mold example of designer homicidal weirdness? Anything else? Yeah, there's some skin under his fingernails.
So I should be able to get you a blood type and sex.
Great.
Sara.
You all right? Yeah, I'm I'm fine.
I'll be right back.
Sara, open the drawer.
You're getting cold.
You're getting colder.
You are ice.
This can't be.
Do you miss me? Where are you? On holiday.
This is happening.
Are you riding shotgun on this murder? Shotguns are for kids.
- Did lan kill Father Horton? - No.
Did you? If I confess, how does one detain a vapor for questioning? No.
I did not kill that dear, sweet cleric from Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
Nice of you to haunt me, Kenny.
I'm jealous.
Jealous that you are alive.
Jealous that you feel the change of season.
Jealous that you won the day.
What keeps you alive? Your love.
Goodbye.
Your killer watched your birth.
He saw you scrape your knees on playgrounds.
He lusts for death with the same vigor that I lust for life.
Who is he? He is Death and he has come.
"There is more faith in honest doubt than all the creeds.
" Tennyson said that.
Had Father Horton lost his faith? Father Horton came here from Rome.
He was a darling of the College of Cardinals.
He'd made a pilgrimage to Judea.
Um, you mean Israel.
You say "potato," I say "potato.
" He'd slept in the sands of our Lord.
He wept in the Gethsemane.
He walked the Via Dolorosa.
Father, who killed him? Horton took a confession yesterday from a man who terrified him.
Did the Father have anything to say about this man? He called him Death.
Yeah.
It would've been called No Survivor.
What else can you tell me about church-related hangings? Yeah.
Let's see.
The Peasants' Revolt of 1381 was particularly bloody and provocatively weird in its logic.
It was led by a man named Wat Tyler.
And under the guise of rebelling over the poll tax, he led a mob into London.
They, uh, they murdered merchants, burned houses, liberated prisons.
Regular mob-in-the-street type stuff.
But the strange coda was the murder of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the hanging of several clergy over the River Thames.
How is this helping me? Well, your killer may have a romantic notion of history.
Maybe he's recreating it.
Or maybe he's just a psychotic killer.
Do you ever get just a straight-down-the-line murder case? - Not lately.
- I gotta take this.
- Okay.
Hey.
Good.
Good.
All right.
I love you too, baby.
Okay.
Yup.
I will see you tonight.
Okay.
All right.
Bye.
You're in love? Yeah, I am.
Well, who is she? A relative.
I just wanted to keep it in the family.
She's just a girl I met.
It's not just some girl if you're lobbing "I love yous".
Ah, I don't know.
Why didn't you ever ask me out, Gabriel? I don't know.
I guess the fantasy was enough for me.
Thanks.
You're not of this world, Sara and I am.
I'Il I'll take that as a compliment.
You should.
Hey, guys.
How you doing, Lee? - Great, Sara.
Good.
- It's good to see you.
- It's good to see you.
- What's up, pard? Partner, partner.
- Seen Gabriel? - Any help? - I don't know.
Maybe.
Lee, you wanna talk about the weird murder of the week or something else? - The latter.
- Yeah, me too.
We got good news today.
Spiritual or financial? We're pregnant.
My gosh.
I think that's great, Lee.
Congratulations to both of you.
- We are very lucky.
- Yeah.
Yeah, you are.
Ready to order? I'll take a boyfriend, medium-rare, please.
- We're out.
- No kidding.
Then I will have a tuna melt.
Good choice.
Easier on your system than a guy.
- Hallelujah, sister.
Easy.
What kind of boyfriend would you order, Sara? I want a biker who reads poetry who drinks beer and who lowers the toilet seat, understands the perfection of 90 feet between the bases and appreciates the running game.
He hates talk shows, reality TV, loves and misses Johnny Carson.
He likes to vacuum and change the sheets.
A guy who sleeps in, jogs, and smokes.
He likes a good bar fight.
And he likes to kiss as much as he likes to make love.
- Is that all? - I don't ask for much, huh? - Sorry.
Congratulations, lovebirds.
Would you excuse me for a second? Of course.
- McCartey.
- Hey, Jake, any news? No, not yet.
- What are you doing? - Eating a pastrami on rye.
- Trying to line up my Saturday night.
- What do you mean "line up"? You know, find a little nocturnal diversion.
Gosh, Jake, you're such a romantic.
Yeah, I'd prefer to call it intelligent hedonism.
Never said I was looking for a profound, long-term commitment.
No, no, you definitely did not.
Well, good luck.
Yeah, right on.
Later, Pez.
Yeah, later.
Hello.
You need any help in there? What kind of help? The hurry-your-ass-out-of-there kind of help.
No, I got it.
Thanks.
Good Lord, I don't mean to be rude, but you're Sorry.
I was just washing up before I feed.
It's It's all right.
I was just getting worried.
It's awfully nice to be worried about.
Thanks.
Here, go ahead.
Of course.
Right.
You know, I could, uh, stand out here and worry about you, if you like.
No, that's, What's your name? Daniel Germaine.
Sara.
Sara Pezzini.
Go ahead.
I'll keep you safe, Sara.
Okay.
Thanks.
Danny.
I'm gonna purge.
Nice talk.
I eat emotionally.
Instead of actually pulling the trigger on a personal relationship I overeat, over-exercise, and overdo it.
It's a rag-ass way of living.
I'm gonna drive Lee home.
All right, I'll see you back at the office.
Bye.
Congrats to you both, bye.
Inverted front forks, air-cooled four stroke V-twin 101 horses at 6000 rpms, P and M wheels Dunlop Competition Sport Max tires fore and aft.
Ma'am, you'd smoke me stoplight to stoplight.
Yeah, would you chase me? Would you want me to? Yeah, I think I would.
Yeah.
Me too.
Who are you? I'm just a ladies' room doorman who got lucky.
- Who are you? - A cop with no hobbies.
Would you like one? - You on the clock right now? - Yeah, sorry.
Don't be.
We got time.
I should've asked.
I'm glad you didn't.
Here.
- What's this? - My cell phone.
I'll call you tonight.
We'll go for that ride.
All right.
Take a look.
- Vic? - Yes? What am I looking at? The undead.
What? That slide is of the skin I scraped from under the fingernails of the dead priest.
Now, I tried to type and cross-match the blood and DNA and what I got would make Anne Rice proud.
This sample, while from a living being is also from someone with a DNA blueprint belonging to a civilization that no longer exists.
The blood is of a Greek origin, Eastern Mediterranean.
The gene pairings are all there.
It's just no one's carried those traits for 2000 years.
This used to belong to Edgar Allan Poe.
You ever wish you could reverse time? Reverse your mistakes? Sometimes, yeah.
Me too, until recently.
You know, I find any instrument that purports to measure time nothing short of dismal.
That was worth thousands of dollars.
I'm terribly sorry.
I'll compensate you in full.
And it was irreplaceable.
As so many things are.
Integrity.
Innocence.
True love.
I need a gift for a woman, a very special woman.
How much for the drums? They, uh They used to belong to Keith Moon.
I remember Moonie.
Full of life and death.
The perfect example of someone whose lust for life warped into rigorous pursuit of self-annihilation.
I'll take the drums.
Fifty thousand dollars.
The spookiest thing is that the sample is animate.
- What? Okay.
Every skin scraping I have ever pulled from under victims' fingernails and from weapons was dead.
This sample, it's alive.
Cells are still splitting and reproducing? The mitochondria are still converting CO2 into O2.
And there is still the vaguest impression of circulation.
To coin a phrase, it's alive.
So basically, we're looking for Dracula.
No.
Dracula's flesh would have desiccated.
There's no such thing as Dracula.
Yeah, sure there was.
What is the matter with you? - He's a fictitious character in a book.
- Based on Vlad the Impaler.
- Not real.
Yeah? How come they're opening an amusement park in Transylvania about him? Same reason they have a park in Anaheim dedicated to a cartoon mouse.
There's no use talking to you.
Okay, guys, the real issue is that you've got nothing that could stop him.
What do you mean? This bad guy, if you find him, you're not gonna be able to kill him.
At best, you'd just put him down for a while.
So, where would you like the drums sent, Mr.
Germaine? Well, it's a surprise.
Could you have them delivered to Sara Pezzini tomorrow afternoon, - Yeah, 11.
- Eleven.
Yeah.
- She's a friend of yours? - Yeah, she is.
- What's your name? - Gabriel.
Like the angel.
The messenger.
Seems you have an affinity for ancient things.
It's a living.
That coin used to belong to Cartaphilus.
You know who that was? Yeah, doesn't everybody? Thankfully not.
- Hello? - Hey, Sara, it's Gabriel.
What's up? Hey, just about to call it a night.
You alone? Yes.
Why? Just wondering.
It's Friday night.
I thought you might have company or something.
Gabriel, what's up? I was just, I don't know, I couldn't sleep.
I know the feeling.
Where's your girlfriend? She's out with friends.
Say, listen, um, how about you? Are you seeing anyone these days? Actually, I did meet a guy.
And, for once, I'm kind of optimistic about it.
That's good.
Well, I certainly hope it works out for you, if you want it to.
Thanks, kid.
Good night.
He lusts for death with the same vigor that I lust for life.
Hello? Hello - Hello? - Sara.
Daniel.
I like how you call me by my whole name.
- Where are you? - I'm across from the Met.
I was thinking I'd hold your hand while looking at paintings followed by a beer and maybe a stop at, the Magnolia Bakery? It's just that I've never believed in love at first sight.
Well, it happens.
I mean, it's been documented.
And I figure you're pretty lucky.
- So when are you gonna see him again? - Tonight.
Well, my advice is, you know, just go with it.
- What's the worst that can happen, right? - That's true.
- Hello.
- Yeah, a delivery for a Sara Penzini.
Pezzini? - What do you got? - A set of drums.
- Thanks.
- Yeah.
Do you know who he is, this rival who touches what you love? He is my enemy.
It seems that, despite himself, he is falling in love.
She may change him.
She may redeem him.
And theirs could prove to be an eternal love.
You must prevent it.
Their attraction is intense authentic, contrary to our purposes.
What do I do, father? Something spectacular.
Something violent.
Something that will shame and reveal him.
Something final.
How did you know? - I just thought they might appeal to you.
- They do.
There's something ancient, something primal about drums.
- Where were you born? - Athens.
Really? Still have family there? No, they've all gone.
Your parents? My mother died the day I was born.
My father was in the army.
He was a great captain of the guard.
We traveled around a lot.
Ended up settling in Jerusalem.
You grew up in Israel? It wasn't called Israel when I lived there.
The politics of the region were very confusing.
Still are.
Were you in the army too? No, I was a prison guard.
Yes, not the summit of intellectual exercise, I know but I saw a lot.
- Do you have any wine? No, no, I'm I'm sorry.
- We must have wine to celebrate.
- And what are we celebrating? The promise of darkness.
The darkness that will be our first night together.
Daniel? Yeah? What if I've fallen in love with you? What if I've fallen in love with you as well? It certainly wasn't something I was planning on.
No.
does it make sense? Love's as irrational as murder.
It's just, l This has never happened to me before.
Not like this.
I've tried not to make sense of what grows in the heart.
Magic doesn't require a definition.
I should go and find us a nice Brunello.
Okay.
I'll never get used to you leaving.
You won't have to.
Ever.
Hmm.
No! Dr.
Fowler, 275.
Dr.
Fowler, 275.
- That son of a bitch sliced Daniel.
- Who? I'm gonna kill him, Danny.
I'm gonna kill him as hard as I can.
- Calm down, Sara.
- Don't tell me to calm down.
Who attacked him? Lan Nottingham.
- What, the freak who's been stalking you? - Yes.
I can't lose him.
Damn it, I just found him.
It isn't fair.
What did the doctor say? The doctor said that, uh, he was slashed through the neck and then Was he do a? Miss Pezzini? Miss Pezzini? Where is he? What happened? I thought you might know.
Nottingham.
You think he slipped in here, and took the body? I'll ask him when I find him.
God.
Oh, my God.
What is happening? I won't lose to you just because I'm dead.
Where is Nottingham? The one you seek is at the same pier the Carpathia moored at.
Why did he kill Daniel? Your choice of lovers was hasty, darling.
And now you share the same grief as Juliet.
It is not exactly what I expected, but I am enjoying this.
You son of a bitch.
Yeah.
I'm I'll explain later.
Hello? - Hey, Gabriel, it's Sara.
What pier did the Carpathia dock at? Pier 62.
Sara, listen to me.
When your friend Daniel came and bought those drums from me he gave me a coin, he said belonged to Cartaphilus.
- I gotta go.
Nottingham! Nottingham! Daniel? My love.
I knew you'd find me.
I watched you die.
You flatlined before my eyes.
I've been killed a hundred times, but I've never died.
No.
I am Cartaphilus, Pontius Pilate's guard.
I was posted guard along the path Jesus would walk to Golgotha.
- Get up.
Hurry on your way.
Jesus looked at me and said: "I will move on, but you will stay here until I return.
" Condemned to immortality for what I said to the Lord.
I've been known by many names, seen in many guises.
There have been myths, fables, and fairy tales of my existence and they're all true.
I'm sorry, my love for having sought you out to end it for me.
What have you done? Many things.
It has been an endless cycle of sin and repentance.
I am a beast.
I have done things for which there is no atonement.
- You killed that Father? - Yes.
- I confessed to him.
- No! And he ran out screaming.
Threatening to tell the world of my existence.
Mine is a legend I'd rather have forgotten.
Mine is an anger I cannot control.
What do you want me to do? If you love me, Sara, you must kill me.
But, if you're immortal Joan burned in Rouen as I watched.
I found her too late to have her do it for me.
The amulet upon your wrist can end my suffering.
It has been worn by martyrs.
It is of divine alchemy.
If it doesn't work, nothing will.
It is the only thing I know of that is powerful enough to terminate this living hell a hell that you lifted me from briefly.
I can I can't kill you.
Death at your hands is my only chance at redemption.
Sara, once I found you, I could have easily manipulated you into killing me.
I could have kidnapped your friend Gabriel.
Blackmailed you.
Without blinking an eye I could have snuffed the lives of your partners that you're so fond of.
Forced you to kill me.
All of which was my original plan, but I did none of these things.
Instead, I fell in love with you.
From afar at first.
And when I met you that love grew stronger, and I had begun to believe that, perhaps you and I could share an eternity together.
Kill me, Sara.
I can't bear the shame of you knowing what I really am what I've done, and what I'm capable of.
If you don't kill me others will die.
The Witchblade knows what is the right course.
And so do you.
I'm s I'm sorry.
Finally.
I'm dying.
Thank you.
I've killed and I've maimed, but I never loved until you.