Nightmares & Dreamscapes: From the Stories of Stephen King (2006): Season 1, Episode 5 - The Road Virus Heads North - full transcript
Writer Richard Kinnell is on a way back from a check-up where he's found out he may soon be facing death. On his way home he stops off at a garage sale and is intrigued by a painting of a vicious killer driving a car. Kinnell buys the picture, but as he heads home he realizes that the painting is changing. The car in the picture is following him, and getting closer with every minute.
Hey, Richard Kinnell. I love
your books. I'm a fan.
Thanks.
No. I'm a fanatic.
Mr. Kinnell, it's an honor.
I'm Betsy Wright from pen.
So nice to meet you.
- Betsy.
- This way, please.
I loved your book...
Here, sir. Here.
Thank you.
Keep it moving, ok?
Over here, sir.
Thank you.
Thank you. Ohh.
- The hand of glory.
- I made it myself.
Thank you.
- Here you go.
- Good.
I get at least
10 of those a year.
How was the drive, Rich?
Oh, ha ha! Dreadful, thanks.
I've been trying your
cell phone all morning.
- No service?
- No phone.
You turned it off,
you son of a bitch.
Ah, I'm wrestling
with some ideas.
How do you think I feel
when my one client won't
take my call?
I apologize.
You still love me?
10% of the time.
Mm. Please make sure
we connect after this panel.
You're awesome.
Warner Brothers wants to shoot
"Night vision".
They brought
the brink's truck.
Mr. Kinnell, Mr. Kinnell,
where do you get your ideas?
Mr. Kinnell, do you
ever scare yourself?
- So...
- Richard, Richard.
You got to check this out, huh?
Cool, huh? Yeah!
Could you sign it for me?
How about a signature?
Come on.
- Come on, buddy. Let's go.
- Come on, guys. I'll return.
I love you!
- Put your shirt back on.
- Was that me?
Yeah, but if it is,
you need a waxing.
- Ah, Sarah.
- Richard.
Well, Will.
Uh, will you two excuse me?
Are you comfy, Richard?
No, but I'm wealthy.
My caboose has landed
its own reality show.
Let me know if you find
my dignity up there.
I have a problem, don't I?
Well, atypical cells
have appeared in your colon
and spread to
the lower intestine.
I want you back next week
for an upper G.I.
- What is it?
- It's nothing yet.
Oh, come on, Josh.
You're withholding.
I am, but until
we know more...
But it's serious.
Well, let's take
another look at it.
Yeah.
Frigged by the fickle
finger of fate.
- Sorry?
- I mean, I'm not surprised.
My mother died at 44
and my father at 36.
You're looking
for a reason.
Oh, yeah. There are
lots of reasons...
Red meat, cigarettes,
unprotected sex.
Look, the reason is the same
for all of us, all right?
We are mortal.
I imagine, you know, writers,
they enjoy a great measure
of control over their work.
You control what your
characters say.
You control what they do.
You even control
the weather.
Medicine is different, Richard.
We're accustomed to a
significant degree of chaos.
Yeah. Man plans
and god laughs, huh?
We can let me have
another look at this.
Oh, move it.
Come on, knuckleballs.
What are you,
blind or blind and drunk?
Damn it.
Please, god, it better
be nothing.
I'll die when I'm ready to die.
Physical fitness
has never been so cheap.
You can do it...
Mm-Hmm.
Oh, you're a smug one.
What do you know that
I don't know?
Aren't you Richard Kinnell?
Yes, I am.
I should have known you'd go
right for that. It's so you.
It is, isn't it?
I'm Judy Diment.
I live down the street.
Um, what can you tell me
about this painting, Judy?
It's original.
The artist was Bobby Hastings.
He's the reason I'm selling off
all the Hastings' things.
The house was theirs.
They even left a dog.
The subject looks like
a rock and roll cannibal.
Bobby was like that.
He wore the same t-shirt
day in and day out.
It had a picture of
the Led Zeppelins on it.
By the end, Bobby was just skin
and bone, dirty all the time.
- It was the end, what?
- Suicide. Bobby was just 23.
He was the tortured
genius type, you know.
But still living at home.
It was the drugs.
Uh, do you have any other
paintings, Judy?
No. One fine tuesday,
Bobby took all his paintings
and sketches out into that side yard,
except for that one,
I guess, and burned them.
Bobby must have had 70
or 80 plus all his sketchbooks.
Iris, that's Bobby's mother,
said most of them are real bad.
Lots worse than the stuff
that'd curl your hair.
Most of them have
sex stuff in them.
- Really?
- In the garage, they found
over a hundred of those little bottles
they sell crack cocaine in.
This is where Bobby
used to paint.
Anyway, I guess he finally
reached the end of his chain.
No pun intended.
Aren't drugs awful,
Mr. Kinnell?
They certainly were.
When Iris found
him hanging right there...
There was a tiny note
pinned on his shirt.
It said, "I can't stand
what's happening to me."
Really?
I feel the same way.
Ok, so how much do you want
for the painting, Judy?
$45.
Oh, quiet.
Who's gonna buy that dog?
He won't listen to me.
I'll be honest with you.
I started at 70,
but nobody likes it,
so now it's marked down.
Where in the world
do you get all those crazy ideas?
Given the choice,
I'd rather live.
So sorry.
I stopped at a yard
sale on the way.
- Oh? Did you find any treasures?
- I always do.
- Well, let's see.
- Ok, ok.
This one's gonna blow
your pantyhose off.
Well, that's
a charming thought.
Well?
Oh, Richard, it's horrible.
I hate it.
- Oh, come on.
It's not that bad.
- Oh.
The Road Virus Heads North.
Fitting, isn't it?
Who would paint
such a thing?
I'm surprised you weren't
more sensitive to it yourself.
You're the master of fear.
Always were
an imaginative fella.
I didn't notice the tattoo.
It's those teeth.
No, no, no. I saw those.
It looks different in this light.
The sky looks darker
than I remember.
Anyway.
Thanks for lunch.
- You liked it?
- Delicious.
Ahh.
A penny for your thoughts.
Oh, um...
I had a checkup today...
My very first colonoscopy.
And they found something.
I have to go in
for more tests.
Wow.
Have they done a biopsy?
Next week.
Well, that's not so bad.
It's not so good.
You're thinking
about my sister.
It's not like it was
in her day.
What am I, 50?
Mom was 40 when
she got sick.
Yeah. Mm-hmm.
But she had 4 good years.
You know, that artist
that hung himself,
he left a simple note.
It said, "I can't stand
what's happening to me."
Oh, stop that talk.
It's self-pity.
Get busy living.
You've got 50
more books to write.
50? Oh.
I got to stop off
at Sally's on the way home.
She's watching Hobo
for me, you know?
You and Sally
gonna get together?
No. We're just friendly.
Well, maybe you could use
a little more friendly in your life, hm?
Hmm, no, thanks.
One time around the park
with Sally is enough for any man.
Well, now, Richard,
I know you're gonna be fine.
You just have to keep a good attitude.
That's most important.
And you can start by getting
rid of that horrid picture.
- Oh, auntie.
- Oh, I'm serious.
When you get to the Saco River,
I want you to pull off
into that break-down lane
and throw it over.
Ah, look at me, Richard.
I'm 63. My secret is simple.
Fill your life with flowers.
You hear that, "road virus"?
Aunt Trudy wants you to go for a swim.
No, a sink.
I love you.
I love you.
A bushel and a peck.
Shh.
Quiet, you crazy dog.
Sorry.
The sale's over.
"Fill your life with flowers."
So much for flowers.
Shoot.
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
Oh, for god's sake.
Rosewood.
He's in Rosewood?
It's impossible.
Hi.
No wonder that kid
killed himself.
Nice legs.
Be sure you eat
your fiber.
What painting?
I don't see any painting.
Aah.
Jade.
Down. Morstead, down.
Come here. Come here.
Sorry, Richard.
Rescue dogs are
loyal but needy.
- Good girl.
- Did he need to eat my wiper?
It's ok, now.
You can come out.
There.
Oh, sorry, Richard.
Your dog is inside.
Hey, is he always so thirsty?
I can't keep him away from the toilet.
Maybe he's got
a salt imbalance.
I'm just saying
I'd look into it.
- How was the writing conference?
- Fine.
You feeling less threatened
by your popularity?
Sally, um, thanks for watching Hobo.
Can you bring him out?
- You're not coming in? Quiet.
- No, it's late. It's late.
I have... what.
I got two more hours
to get up to Derry.
I understand. You probably
have someone waiting.
- No. Nobody's waiting.
- Oh, my god. What happened
to our car?
I mean your car.
Did someone break in?
It's a long story.
Were they trying to
steal your painting?
Huh?
I bet you stopped
at a consignment shop.
You're always
treasure-hunting.
Ew.
But I destroyed it.
Oh, tell me you
didn't buy that.
Or is it a gift from one
of your sick fans?
Richard?
Are you ok?
I destroyed that.
I threw it in the river.
God, you're not well.
Look at you, you're bone white.
- The stock market...
- Hey, you look better.
You got some color back.
Richard, you're acting weird.
You're freaking out
your own dog.
The yard sale was in
Rosewood, New Hampshire.
What yard sale?
The yard sale where
I bought the painting.
When I bought it
this afternoon,
the Firebird was crossing
the Zakim Bridge in Boston.
Now it's in Rosewood.
The painting is changing.
It's following me.
- You're drinking again.
- No.
- The pills?
- No.
Then what is it?
Richard, you had a checkup
after the writing conference.
I mean, what
did your doctor say?
He found something.
- What did he find?
- He didn't say.
Why didn't you tell me this?
Were you expecting to drive home
alone and keep this inside?
Now tell me exactly
what the doctor said.
Whatever he said is
the least of my worries.
Right now, there is the distinct
and terrifying possibility
that I might be
losing my mind.
You're not losing
your mind, Richard.
You just had
a terrible day.
I think you need
a healing.
- Oh...
- Yes, a healing.
We've got to get you
out of these clothes first.
Come on out back.
...will be able to take advantage
of valuable federal tax credits
starting in 2006.
We interrupt now for
a breaking local news story.
A Rosewood woman has been
brutally murdered
while doing a favor
for an absent friend.
38-year-old Judith Diment
was conducting a yard sale
outside her neighbor's home
when she was savagely attacked.
Neighbors heard a loud car
accelerating away from the vicinity
along route 1.
Ok, so we have to adorn
your chakras in crystal.
Do you think that crystals will
tame a runaway imagination?
Yes, they will.
My god, it's hot in here.
Well, that's the point.
Your body is releasing toxins.
Ok, now take this.
It's a flower extract
to combat fear.
- Open up. Come on.
- I'll take a pint.
You have to educate yourself
about health, Richard.
You're a writer.
Do your research.
Knowledge is power.
Power to fight.
Mmm.
Fight. Yeah.
That's what
Aunt Trudy said.
Uh.
Hey, welcome back.
You feel better?
Come on. Get in.
- It's gone.
- Like magic.
- What'd you do with it?
- Don't ask.
Sally.
It's in the trash
where it belongs.
- Did it change?
- I didn't look.
No. I mean, was it
still the yard sale?
I told you I wouldn't look,
and neither should you.
- Here.
- What's this?
I want you to stay at
the Lighthouse Inn tonight.
- Richard.
- No, please. If you do,
I'll be able to sleep.
- I'm not afraid of your painting.
- I know. Just humor me.
- Thank you for the healing.
- You're welcome.
Oh, and Hobo
thanks you, too.
Anytime, Hobo.
Hey.
Find your way back.
Maybe I will.
Maybe I'll beat this thing
inside me and...
just, um,
I'll surprise everyone.
Bye.
Bye.
Home, Hobo. Home.
No more yard sales.
I sent her away.
I know what you are.
You're a disease
growing in my body.
If I die, you die.
I want you to think
about that.
Killing me would
be your suicide.
We need each other to live.
I'm not your damn disease,
You egomaniac.
I'm what you don't know.
I'm your fear.
Aaah.
Uh.
Rosewood police tell us
that today's murder is not
the first tragedy in this neighborhood.
Just last year, a boy next door
committed suicide
- in this same house.
- It's very sad, Claudia.
Very sad for the Diment
family and all their friends.
I'm Claudia Clemmens
reporting from Rosewood.
It's real.
This is real.
No.
Aunt Trudy's.
- Hello.
- Trudy.
I know it encourages burglars
to say things like this,
but I've gone to Kennebunk
to watch a movie.
If you intend
to break in,
please, don't take
my china pigs.
If you want to leave a message,
do so at the beep.
Trudy, call me
when you get back home.
I don't care how late it is.
Just call me.
Oh, god.
Please, not Aunt Trudy.
Send them by
the coast road.
Please, send them
down the coast road.
No.
No. No.
Trudy?
Yes, dear. What is it?
Are you all right?
I'm better now.
What's wrong?
Your voice sounds all funny.
It's trembling.
What is it?
It's that picture, isn't it?
It's that damn picture.
Well, yeah.
You were right.
It's evil.
So, I burned it
in the fireplace.
Well, good.
Scatter the ashes, too.
You were worried
about me, weren't you?
Because you
showed it to me?
Yes. Fire was the right idea.
That's how they used
to kill evil, right?
Well, you've used it
a few times in your books.
Ha. You're right.
I did.
I'm fine, Richard.
You get some sleep.
You've had a hard day, hmm?
You've got to stay
strong and healthy.
We'll talk tomorrow?
I think so.
Good night, dear.
He would have been here by now,
even if he'd taken the coast road.
Hobo.
Take it. Take it.
It's yours.
Go away.
Leave me alone.
Aah.
Uh.
Damn you.
Damn you.
Blood.
I'm going outside, I think.
--- synced by Rubens ---
your books. I'm a fan.
Thanks.
No. I'm a fanatic.
Mr. Kinnell, it's an honor.
I'm Betsy Wright from pen.
So nice to meet you.
- Betsy.
- This way, please.
I loved your book...
Here, sir. Here.
Thank you.
Keep it moving, ok?
Over here, sir.
Thank you.
Thank you. Ohh.
- The hand of glory.
- I made it myself.
Thank you.
- Here you go.
- Good.
I get at least
10 of those a year.
How was the drive, Rich?
Oh, ha ha! Dreadful, thanks.
I've been trying your
cell phone all morning.
- No service?
- No phone.
You turned it off,
you son of a bitch.
Ah, I'm wrestling
with some ideas.
How do you think I feel
when my one client won't
take my call?
I apologize.
You still love me?
10% of the time.
Mm. Please make sure
we connect after this panel.
You're awesome.
Warner Brothers wants to shoot
"Night vision".
They brought
the brink's truck.
Mr. Kinnell, Mr. Kinnell,
where do you get your ideas?
Mr. Kinnell, do you
ever scare yourself?
- So...
- Richard, Richard.
You got to check this out, huh?
Cool, huh? Yeah!
Could you sign it for me?
How about a signature?
Come on.
- Come on, buddy. Let's go.
- Come on, guys. I'll return.
I love you!
- Put your shirt back on.
- Was that me?
Yeah, but if it is,
you need a waxing.
- Ah, Sarah.
- Richard.
Well, Will.
Uh, will you two excuse me?
Are you comfy, Richard?
No, but I'm wealthy.
My caboose has landed
its own reality show.
Let me know if you find
my dignity up there.
I have a problem, don't I?
Well, atypical cells
have appeared in your colon
and spread to
the lower intestine.
I want you back next week
for an upper G.I.
- What is it?
- It's nothing yet.
Oh, come on, Josh.
You're withholding.
I am, but until
we know more...
But it's serious.
Well, let's take
another look at it.
Yeah.
Frigged by the fickle
finger of fate.
- Sorry?
- I mean, I'm not surprised.
My mother died at 44
and my father at 36.
You're looking
for a reason.
Oh, yeah. There are
lots of reasons...
Red meat, cigarettes,
unprotected sex.
Look, the reason is the same
for all of us, all right?
We are mortal.
I imagine, you know, writers,
they enjoy a great measure
of control over their work.
You control what your
characters say.
You control what they do.
You even control
the weather.
Medicine is different, Richard.
We're accustomed to a
significant degree of chaos.
Yeah. Man plans
and god laughs, huh?
We can let me have
another look at this.
Oh, move it.
Come on, knuckleballs.
What are you,
blind or blind and drunk?
Damn it.
Please, god, it better
be nothing.
I'll die when I'm ready to die.
Physical fitness
has never been so cheap.
You can do it...
Mm-Hmm.
Oh, you're a smug one.
What do you know that
I don't know?
Aren't you Richard Kinnell?
Yes, I am.
I should have known you'd go
right for that. It's so you.
It is, isn't it?
I'm Judy Diment.
I live down the street.
Um, what can you tell me
about this painting, Judy?
It's original.
The artist was Bobby Hastings.
He's the reason I'm selling off
all the Hastings' things.
The house was theirs.
They even left a dog.
The subject looks like
a rock and roll cannibal.
Bobby was like that.
He wore the same t-shirt
day in and day out.
It had a picture of
the Led Zeppelins on it.
By the end, Bobby was just skin
and bone, dirty all the time.
- It was the end, what?
- Suicide. Bobby was just 23.
He was the tortured
genius type, you know.
But still living at home.
It was the drugs.
Uh, do you have any other
paintings, Judy?
No. One fine tuesday,
Bobby took all his paintings
and sketches out into that side yard,
except for that one,
I guess, and burned them.
Bobby must have had 70
or 80 plus all his sketchbooks.
Iris, that's Bobby's mother,
said most of them are real bad.
Lots worse than the stuff
that'd curl your hair.
Most of them have
sex stuff in them.
- Really?
- In the garage, they found
over a hundred of those little bottles
they sell crack cocaine in.
This is where Bobby
used to paint.
Anyway, I guess he finally
reached the end of his chain.
No pun intended.
Aren't drugs awful,
Mr. Kinnell?
They certainly were.
When Iris found
him hanging right there...
There was a tiny note
pinned on his shirt.
It said, "I can't stand
what's happening to me."
Really?
I feel the same way.
Ok, so how much do you want
for the painting, Judy?
$45.
Oh, quiet.
Who's gonna buy that dog?
He won't listen to me.
I'll be honest with you.
I started at 70,
but nobody likes it,
so now it's marked down.
Where in the world
do you get all those crazy ideas?
Given the choice,
I'd rather live.
So sorry.
I stopped at a yard
sale on the way.
- Oh? Did you find any treasures?
- I always do.
- Well, let's see.
- Ok, ok.
This one's gonna blow
your pantyhose off.
Well, that's
a charming thought.
Well?
Oh, Richard, it's horrible.
I hate it.
- Oh, come on.
It's not that bad.
- Oh.
The Road Virus Heads North.
Fitting, isn't it?
Who would paint
such a thing?
I'm surprised you weren't
more sensitive to it yourself.
You're the master of fear.
Always were
an imaginative fella.
I didn't notice the tattoo.
It's those teeth.
No, no, no. I saw those.
It looks different in this light.
The sky looks darker
than I remember.
Anyway.
Thanks for lunch.
- You liked it?
- Delicious.
Ahh.
A penny for your thoughts.
Oh, um...
I had a checkup today...
My very first colonoscopy.
And they found something.
I have to go in
for more tests.
Wow.
Have they done a biopsy?
Next week.
Well, that's not so bad.
It's not so good.
You're thinking
about my sister.
It's not like it was
in her day.
What am I, 50?
Mom was 40 when
she got sick.
Yeah. Mm-hmm.
But she had 4 good years.
You know, that artist
that hung himself,
he left a simple note.
It said, "I can't stand
what's happening to me."
Oh, stop that talk.
It's self-pity.
Get busy living.
You've got 50
more books to write.
50? Oh.
I got to stop off
at Sally's on the way home.
She's watching Hobo
for me, you know?
You and Sally
gonna get together?
No. We're just friendly.
Well, maybe you could use
a little more friendly in your life, hm?
Hmm, no, thanks.
One time around the park
with Sally is enough for any man.
Well, now, Richard,
I know you're gonna be fine.
You just have to keep a good attitude.
That's most important.
And you can start by getting
rid of that horrid picture.
- Oh, auntie.
- Oh, I'm serious.
When you get to the Saco River,
I want you to pull off
into that break-down lane
and throw it over.
Ah, look at me, Richard.
I'm 63. My secret is simple.
Fill your life with flowers.
You hear that, "road virus"?
Aunt Trudy wants you to go for a swim.
No, a sink.
I love you.
I love you.
A bushel and a peck.
Shh.
Quiet, you crazy dog.
Sorry.
The sale's over.
"Fill your life with flowers."
So much for flowers.
Shoot.
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
Oh, for god's sake.
Rosewood.
He's in Rosewood?
It's impossible.
Hi.
No wonder that kid
killed himself.
Nice legs.
Be sure you eat
your fiber.
What painting?
I don't see any painting.
Aah.
Jade.
Down. Morstead, down.
Come here. Come here.
Sorry, Richard.
Rescue dogs are
loyal but needy.
- Good girl.
- Did he need to eat my wiper?
It's ok, now.
You can come out.
There.
Oh, sorry, Richard.
Your dog is inside.
Hey, is he always so thirsty?
I can't keep him away from the toilet.
Maybe he's got
a salt imbalance.
I'm just saying
I'd look into it.
- How was the writing conference?
- Fine.
You feeling less threatened
by your popularity?
Sally, um, thanks for watching Hobo.
Can you bring him out?
- You're not coming in? Quiet.
- No, it's late. It's late.
I have... what.
I got two more hours
to get up to Derry.
I understand. You probably
have someone waiting.
- No. Nobody's waiting.
- Oh, my god. What happened
to our car?
I mean your car.
Did someone break in?
It's a long story.
Were they trying to
steal your painting?
Huh?
I bet you stopped
at a consignment shop.
You're always
treasure-hunting.
Ew.
But I destroyed it.
Oh, tell me you
didn't buy that.
Or is it a gift from one
of your sick fans?
Richard?
Are you ok?
I destroyed that.
I threw it in the river.
God, you're not well.
Look at you, you're bone white.
- The stock market...
- Hey, you look better.
You got some color back.
Richard, you're acting weird.
You're freaking out
your own dog.
The yard sale was in
Rosewood, New Hampshire.
What yard sale?
The yard sale where
I bought the painting.
When I bought it
this afternoon,
the Firebird was crossing
the Zakim Bridge in Boston.
Now it's in Rosewood.
The painting is changing.
It's following me.
- You're drinking again.
- No.
- The pills?
- No.
Then what is it?
Richard, you had a checkup
after the writing conference.
I mean, what
did your doctor say?
He found something.
- What did he find?
- He didn't say.
Why didn't you tell me this?
Were you expecting to drive home
alone and keep this inside?
Now tell me exactly
what the doctor said.
Whatever he said is
the least of my worries.
Right now, there is the distinct
and terrifying possibility
that I might be
losing my mind.
You're not losing
your mind, Richard.
You just had
a terrible day.
I think you need
a healing.
- Oh...
- Yes, a healing.
We've got to get you
out of these clothes first.
Come on out back.
...will be able to take advantage
of valuable federal tax credits
starting in 2006.
We interrupt now for
a breaking local news story.
A Rosewood woman has been
brutally murdered
while doing a favor
for an absent friend.
38-year-old Judith Diment
was conducting a yard sale
outside her neighbor's home
when she was savagely attacked.
Neighbors heard a loud car
accelerating away from the vicinity
along route 1.
Ok, so we have to adorn
your chakras in crystal.
Do you think that crystals will
tame a runaway imagination?
Yes, they will.
My god, it's hot in here.
Well, that's the point.
Your body is releasing toxins.
Ok, now take this.
It's a flower extract
to combat fear.
- Open up. Come on.
- I'll take a pint.
You have to educate yourself
about health, Richard.
You're a writer.
Do your research.
Knowledge is power.
Power to fight.
Mmm.
Fight. Yeah.
That's what
Aunt Trudy said.
Uh.
Hey, welcome back.
You feel better?
Come on. Get in.
- It's gone.
- Like magic.
- What'd you do with it?
- Don't ask.
Sally.
It's in the trash
where it belongs.
- Did it change?
- I didn't look.
No. I mean, was it
still the yard sale?
I told you I wouldn't look,
and neither should you.
- Here.
- What's this?
I want you to stay at
the Lighthouse Inn tonight.
- Richard.
- No, please. If you do,
I'll be able to sleep.
- I'm not afraid of your painting.
- I know. Just humor me.
- Thank you for the healing.
- You're welcome.
Oh, and Hobo
thanks you, too.
Anytime, Hobo.
Hey.
Find your way back.
Maybe I will.
Maybe I'll beat this thing
inside me and...
just, um,
I'll surprise everyone.
Bye.
Bye.
Home, Hobo. Home.
No more yard sales.
I sent her away.
I know what you are.
You're a disease
growing in my body.
If I die, you die.
I want you to think
about that.
Killing me would
be your suicide.
We need each other to live.
I'm not your damn disease,
You egomaniac.
I'm what you don't know.
I'm your fear.
Aaah.
Uh.
Rosewood police tell us
that today's murder is not
the first tragedy in this neighborhood.
Just last year, a boy next door
committed suicide
- in this same house.
- It's very sad, Claudia.
Very sad for the Diment
family and all their friends.
I'm Claudia Clemmens
reporting from Rosewood.
It's real.
This is real.
No.
Aunt Trudy's.
- Hello.
- Trudy.
I know it encourages burglars
to say things like this,
but I've gone to Kennebunk
to watch a movie.
If you intend
to break in,
please, don't take
my china pigs.
If you want to leave a message,
do so at the beep.
Trudy, call me
when you get back home.
I don't care how late it is.
Just call me.
Oh, god.
Please, not Aunt Trudy.
Send them by
the coast road.
Please, send them
down the coast road.
No.
No. No.
Trudy?
Yes, dear. What is it?
Are you all right?
I'm better now.
What's wrong?
Your voice sounds all funny.
It's trembling.
What is it?
It's that picture, isn't it?
It's that damn picture.
Well, yeah.
You were right.
It's evil.
So, I burned it
in the fireplace.
Well, good.
Scatter the ashes, too.
You were worried
about me, weren't you?
Because you
showed it to me?
Yes. Fire was the right idea.
That's how they used
to kill evil, right?
Well, you've used it
a few times in your books.
Ha. You're right.
I did.
I'm fine, Richard.
You get some sleep.
You've had a hard day, hmm?
You've got to stay
strong and healthy.
We'll talk tomorrow?
I think so.
Good night, dear.
He would have been here by now,
even if he'd taken the coast road.
Hobo.
Take it. Take it.
It's yours.
Go away.
Leave me alone.
Aah.
Uh.
Damn you.
Damn you.
Blood.
I'm going outside, I think.
--- synced by Rubens ---