American Horror Story (2011–…): Season 11, Episode 7 - The Sentinel - full transcript

It's funny the things
that you remember from school.

One of my history
teachers told me

that after the
Indians killed Custer,

two squaws shoved
needles in his ears

so that he'd learn to listen
better in the afterlife.

You should've listened better.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Where is everyone?

"Everyone"?

You're supposed to call
the station, bring backup.

Trust me when I tell you,
Gino, they would not have come.



Do you have my gun?

Is this the place?

It's right down there.

All right.

Okay, what are you doing?

What are you talking
about what am I doing?

No, this is not
how it works, Gino.

Okay, I can handle
this. You stay here.

Excuse me, that
fucker tortured me.

I'm gonna be a part of this.

No, you're not.

I am coming with you.

And the longer you sit
here and think about it,

the more likely it is that
Henry is gonna get killed.



Jesus fucking Christ.

You want to be
fucking Rock Hudson?

You're not going in
without Susan Saint James.

Jesus.

What are our lives gonna be like

when we're not hunting
serial killers?

Boring and pointless.

Eating pasta every night and
watching Hollywood Squares.

That sounds kind of perfect.

Oh, shit.

Okay, okay...

All the sudden, I'm
starting not to like this.

Oh, come on, Gino.

You're a reporter.

Treat it like one
of your stories.

Somehow, in journalism
school, I missed the course on

breaking into the
murderer's lair.

What's that?

Is he alive?

Yeah, he's still alive.

Jesus.

Fucking holy mother of God.

Damn it.

I can't believe
this is happening.

Got to get out of here.

Well, there's an idea. I
hadn't thought of that.

We should get out of here.

Patrick!

Don't. Don't do that.

It doesn't help.

Also...

He's too young for you.

What?

I'm just saying, in my opinion,

a gentleman of your élan
should be with someone

who's a more suitable,
sophisticated life partner.

I-I should've
listened to him more.

I shouldn't have
been so unforgiving.

God, this lament.

Oh, why couldn't he
have taken my other ear?

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck.

Thank
God you're alive.

I didn't think you
were coming back.

I'm sorry about the tenderizer.

I just... I had to have something
that would work really fast.

I-I gauged my swing so I
wouldn't tenderize your brain.

And the gag, I-I don't like
hearing people scream in pain.

That's not why I do this.

I wanted to get you
alone so we could talk.

I just have to tell you...

I'm a fan.

I admire you so much.

Must be hell being
in that precinct.

What you go through on a daily
basis, I can only imagine.

And even though we're kind
of working at cross purposes,

I made a little change of plan.

I already gave him a heart.

But it's a heart from
someone of no consequence.

But a sentinel,

a beacon of hope for
the entire community,

deserves better...

Don't you think?

So, I'm going to
give him your heart.

A noble, beating heart.

I hope you realize
what an honor this is.

But please bear with me first.

I've got to correct a mistake.

What could you possibly
be laughing at?

That's a viscera chart.

Look.

That chart, it shows all
the parts they threw away.

That's what this room was for.

That's why he put us here,
what he thinks of us.

Fuck.

What are you doing?

Destroying my hand
is what I'm doing.

It's really gonna cut
down on my self-love.

Oh.

Jesus, you did it.
You fucking did it.

Shh, shh, shh.

Not so quick, Tinkerbell.

Oh, this other one is too tight.

It's not gonna loosen up. God.

Then get something
to get us free.

Keys, on the wall.

And these tables don't move.

Try to find a-a small knife,
something to pick the lock.

Who am I? Houdini, suddenly?

Jesus.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Hurry.

These tools aren't sharp enough
to cut through this metal cuff.

Oh, I don't want to do that.

Ooh, goddamn it, I
don't want to do that.

Wh-What are
you talking about?

Do what?

Oh, fuck it.

I guess I deserve it.

No. No, no.

None of us deserve this.

I could've stopped this
fucker a long time ago.

Deep down, I knew it was him.

But I just buried
my head in the sand.

I just decided that
it didn't affect me,

and so I let people die.

My people.

Our people.

Well, this is where...

I give something back.

Henry, what are you doing?

Henry?

Henry, what are you...?

No, Henry.

No.

No!

Hey.

Hey!

So, you're making a beacon
of hope for our community.

You really love
our community, huh?

It's all I care about.

Yeah?

How many of us do
you have to butcher

to make that... thing?

The Sentinel has
to come from us.

What would you have
me use? Straights?

Some sacrifices were necessary.

The deaths of our unfortunate
brothers proved something.

Yeah, what?

That no one cares about us.

That no one cares
what happens to us.

Especially the police.

I think I proved my
point, don't you?

You really think this
ugly lump of dead meat

is going to make a
difference to anybody?

He won't be dead.

You've heard
stories about people

who've fallen beneath the ice

and survived for 20 minutes
before being revived?

Right now he's being kept
fresh by embalming fluid,

but once your heart is in place,

I'll drain the fluid,
transfuse some of my blood,

an injection of adrenaline

and a hit of the paddles...

The blood will flow,
the heart will pump,

and he'll live again,

ready to take his
place among the world.

It's all very exciting.

Hey.

There we go.

Out with the old...

and in with the new.

Get back, you sick fuck!

I said get the fuck back!

You should've killed me while
you had the chance, Whitely.

Right?

We're gonna make you pay

for what you did
to those people.

They died for the greater good.

I'm doing something glorious,

something that will
change the world.

How did shoving needles
under my fingernails

help you to change the world?

I wasn't torturing
you, I was testing you.

It's like that man
in the leather bar.

I just knew right
away he wasn't worthy.

And-and the parts
that I didn't use,

I left for the police to find.

To show how powerless they were,

and how little
they cared for us.

You're going to tell me
that you didn't get off

on all that just a little bit?

I have my demons.

I faced them that night

you hired me to cut
up that boy, Henry.

I confess, I enjoyed it.

And that's the part of me
that needs to get burned away.

No.

All of you needs
to be burned away.

The Sentinel is our salvation.

He will save us.

He will show the world our
suffering and will redeem us.

The only one who needs
redemption is you, buddy.

But you don't get it.

Officer Read, how's
it feel to be a gay cop?

I'm just as
shocked as you are.

But what can you
expect from a...

"department that treats gays

"like they don't exist,

or worse, that they
shouldn't exist."

You know, you
surprise me, Mulcahey.

Because I'm reading a fag rag?

No. I didn't
know that you could read.

I would offer to
clear out my desk,

but I'm pretty sure
that's painted shut.

I don't need your
badge, Detective Read.

Give it to someone who does.

Would you hang on a second?

Have a seat, would you?

There's nothing left to say.

Oh, yeah, that-that's
the truth right there.

You pretty much said it all.

Made us sound like a
lost division of the SS.

You know, believe it or not,
I get where that comes from.

Some of these guys, they, uh...

Well, I don't need to tell you.

Just wish you hadn't
gone to the press.

You know?

Doesn't mean you're
getting fired.

What makes you think
I'm not quitting?

Well, I hope you'll stick around
and help us fix this mess.

Relations with
your, uh, community.

You know, you can head
up a sort of outreach.

You must be getting a lot
of heat from upstairs, huh?

Look, whether I am or not,
I'm sincere about this.

"Sincere."

Why don't we start with
reopening every single case

you swept under the rug because
one of the victims was gay, huh?

And I'm just thinking off
the top of my head here.

How about that poor teenage boy

who was beat half to
death in the Bronx?

Or the couple who
were kissing in public

and got pelted with
bricks in the street?

Or the assholes who turned
up with baseball bats

to a private party and
smashed the place up?

And where are we, huh?

Where the fuck are we with the
gay bar fire investigation?

No?

Not that sincere?

Fuck you.

Fuck this whole department.

Detective Read.

Nah, it's not
"Detective" anymore.

No, sir.

It's just Read now.

Hey. Sorry about the wait.

Had a little issue upstairs.

So, uh, like I said, this is...

This is going to be
extremely difficult.

You sure you want to do this?

I'm ready.

All right.

Let's go.

There is, uh,
considerable damage

to the postmortem
of these bodies,

so I'm really not
expecting you to identify

any of your friend's remains.

But, uh, we got to take a shot.

What did he do to them?

He was taking them apart

and using the pieces to
make his own creation.

Targeted intellectual
guys for the organs,

and beautiful men for
the physical features.

Nothing about this
is gonna be easy.

- You ready?
- Yeah.

You, uh, you know, you're
very good to do this.

Would you believe we've
only ever had one family

come forward to
identify remains?

Guess they preferred their
sons dead than gay, huh?

You just described
it to me, but...

I still can't believe it.

How could...?

How could anybody do
something like this?

What the fuck is wrong
with people in this city?

Take your time.

I don't see anything
of Sully here.

If he's here,

or anywhere, I...

I can't tell.

You tried.

That's all we can do.

How many men are a
part of this thing?

We think maybe seven bodies.

Well, there are a
lot more murders

and missing guys than that.

Where are they?

Could it be fatal?

It's hard to
say. Whatever this is,

it's now affecting our
platelets and T cells.

And the others? Are-are
you tracking them?

Half of my patients with these
same symptoms have disappeared.

What?

I couldn't legally disclose
this before, but now

that we know that Sully wasn't
a victim of the Mai Tai Killer,

I feel like I have to tell you.

- Sully was one of my first patients.
- What the fuck, Hannah?

When I first heard he went
missing, I assumed he went home

to be with his family
because he was sick and...

Sully would've told me that.

He...

He disappeared in
the park that night.

I'm just as confused
as you are, Adam.

No.

This doesn't make sense.

How could this
illness be related

to all of these disappearances?

I don't know.

And I don't have the
resources to find out.

I'm sorry. I wish I did.

Oh, my God.

Have you tried contacting
any bigger labs or companies

- that could help?
- 47 unanswered phone calls.

Even my university
colleagues won't touch this.

Without funding, no
one gives a shit.

I wish I were surprised.

And the worst part is
it's not just one illness.

What Adam and I have is viral,

but what KK has is a
bacterial infection,

similar to the deer
on Fire Island.

It's the ticks. I told you,
it's biological warfare.

Probably the CIA.

We should write an
article about this.

Put it in the Pride issue,
start building interest now.

Absolutely.

There's still too much
research that needs to be done.

Insect bites, rashes,
fevers, disappearances.

It's all just too
convoluted right now.

We'll only print the facts.

Let the readers make
up their own minds.

We can't trust the public

to come to a rational
conclusion on their own.

Half-baked science always
leads to conspiracy theories.

Sully didn't go home
to his parents. I checked.

I hate to say it, but I
think that there could be

more victims of
the Mai Thai Killer

that just haven't
been found yet.

Or there's another
killer out there.

Do you hear yourself?

There's a leather daddy
who's stalking people

with blood disorders?

I mean, this is crazy.

We caught the killer.

It's over.

I'm not crazy, okay?

I know what I saw.

And there is space, here,

for an article about this,

even if it's just
a little blurb.

Adam.

Before all of this
took over our lives,

Patrick and I put down a
deposit on a Fire Island rental

and it comes up this weekend.

I refuse to let it go to waste.

So why don't you join us?

Take a break from
all of this insanity.

We're trying to get
on with our lives

and-and I think that
you should, too.

I can't.

Theo and Hannah are helping me
reignite the search for Sully.

I-I can't just... leave.

Bring them with you.
It's a big house.

I think the ocean air
will do us all good.

- Hey.
- Hey.

You okay?

- Uh-huh.
- Good, good.

I'm exhausted. I think the
beach is gonna do us both good.

Right.

We are not gonna allow
this to destroy us.

- It's destroyed us already, Gino.
- No.

- It's broken.
- We just got to get somewhere away from these four walls.

- Barbara died.
- I understand.

She's a good person.
It's my fault.

It's... Patrick,
it's not your fault.

- It is my fault.
- It's not.

She knows it. I
just saw her, Gino.

You saw who?

I saw Barbara.

I saw Barbara on
the street, just...

What?

Oh, my God, I'm going
out of my fucking mind.

Hey. Hey. Hey.

I'm going out of my
fucking mind, Gino.

Hey, no, no, no. Shh. Come
on, breathe. You're safe.

It's okay. It's okay.

- We're gonna be okay.
- It's not okay. It's not okay,

Gino, we're not gonna be okay.

Look at our fucking lives.

Look at our lives.

Every day,

something terrible
is gonna happen.

You're safe, you're safe.

I'm not.

And we're not safe, Gino.

You're safe.

Hi. You've
reached Adam and Sully.

Leave a message.

Adam, it's me.

Uh, I'm not gonna be able
to make it to Fire Island.

The way I'm feeling right now,

I'm just too goddamn pregnant
to handle that ferry ride.

I'm really sorry. Rain check?

Hey, Mom. It's Hannah.

I know we haven't
talked in a while,

but I just really needed
to hear your voice.

There's this
disease going around

and I'm afraid that I have it.

It's my immune system.

My white blood cell
count is really low.

I don't need to get
into the details, but...

I'm just really scared, Mama.

I was wondering if
it'd be okay if I came

and stayed with you
for a little while.

Okay.

Okay.

I love you.

I'll see you soon.

Pride.

What does the word mean in
the face of so much death?

Pride is a construct,

something we summon to unite us

when we feel tired and weak.

Pride takes work, but
death comes easily.

Death is an old friend,

someone every gay person
has known their whole lives.

As we walk the streets, in
our jobs, and in our homes,

we have seen how quickly
the world's hatred

towards us can
escalate to violence.

In a glance or in a kiss,

death is always lurking
around the corner.

Some of us drown out
death's low roar with sex,

some drown it out with
drugs or food or work.

But no matter our vices, when
that low roar grows to a rattle,

and when that rattle ruptures,

we can no longer ignore
the seismic terror

of our daily dance with death.

Something is coming,

something evil on the horizon.

Yes, the Mai Thai
Killer was a sick man.

But was there some ounce
of virtue in his impulse

to build a Sentinel,

to protect the very
people he hurt?

Was this his Pride?

For those of us on
the outskirts...

The unseen, the
abused, the demeaned,

and the impoverished...

The terror of our mortality

leads us to destruction.

We lash out,

we hurt ourselves,
and those who love us.

We lie, we steal,

and if we are driven
to it, we kill.

Who am I to judge those who
have gone down this path?

Aren't their impulses
the same as mine?

Isn't their rage justified?

Did they simply choose death

because it was closer
than Pride could ever be?

The hypocrisy is untenable.

Homosexuals must be
treated like criminals.

What if we found
value in our trauma?

Listened to it, rather
than ignored it?

Could the force of
our collective anger

actually become our savior?

As I laid bound to the
table of the killer,

looking death in the
eye, I didn't see evil.

I saw suffering created by
the world who gave a man

no other choice but to destroy.

Imagine if we enlisted our
gay rage as our Sentinel.

If, rather than sinking into
the abyss of our despair,

or painting over our
wounds with Pride,

we used anger as our compass.

Where would it lead us?

What could it do for us?

I saw a man who become a monster

because it's who the
world expected him to be.

It's time we acknowledge
that this monster

has been implanted in all of us.

And the only way to release him

is to release
society's expectations

of who and what we should be.

This is our freedom.

This is our way out.

This is our Pride.

This is our Sentinel.