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Lost Souls

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Look at you. Come here.
I told you, you've got to|double-knot those things.
One of these days...
we'll have to get you|some zipper shoes.
Father...
why are we doing this?
I know, Maya.
But you'll understand|when you see this man.
Ensemble pour toujours,|quoi qu'il arrive.
He's in torment...
the way you were when I met you.
I've got patients.|I've got sprinklers.
I've got a flood.|I'm ready to build an ark.
Hook me up with maintenance.|You're killing me!
Your court order, Dr. Allen.
You know I'm not|comfortable with this.
The patient|is legally entitled to it.
The patient has been plagued|by temporal lobe seizures.
It is the patient's request,|Doctor.
I am aware of that,|but I don't think...
he's in any condition|to make requests.
I'm trying to appeal|to your logical self, Father.
I'm concerned|about harm to my patient.
Father Jeremy...
Deacon John Townsend|of St. Ursula's...
and our associate, Maya Larkin.
Associate?
Secular assistants|can be permitted...
if they are regarded|as qualified.
I'm going in with you.
You wouldn't last five minutes.
Just open the door.
What do you think|of the color of this room?
It's supposed to be relaxing.
Hello, Henry.
You know why we're here.
I'm really|Looking forward to it.
Let us prepare the room.
Get the other one.
Please, do the other one.
God, the Holy Spirit,|have mercy on us.
God, the Holy Trinity, one God,|have mercy on us.
Holy Mary, pray for us.
-Holy Mother of God.|-Pray for us.
-Holy Virgin of Virgins.|-Pray for us.
Saint Michael. Saint Gabriel.|Saint Raphael.
Holy angels and archangels.
All holy orders|of blessed spirits.
Saint John the Baptist.
Saint Joseph.
All holy patriarchs|and prophets.
Saint Peter. Saint Paul...
...our sins|or those of our forefathers.
Hail Mary, full of grace...
Do not punish us|for our offenses.
Lead us not into temptation.
Hail Mary.
Do not punish us|for our offenses.
Lead us not into temptation,|but deliver us from evil.
-They're all still in there.|-What the hell is that?
-It's in Birdson's room.|-Jesus!
Get Haldol, Cogentin, Ativan,|five, two, and two IM.
Open the door!
Father!
Hail Mary, full of grace,|the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou|Amongst women...
Hail Mary, full of grace,|the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou|Amongst women...
Hail Mary, full of grace,|the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou amongst women.
Blessed is the fruit|of thy womb, Jesus...
Mr. Silberman...
you worked for your whole life|at the same company.
-Is that correct?|-That's correct.
And you worked with|the defendant George Viznik...
for the last two years|in the same room?
Right.
How would you describe him?
Quiet. Real quiet.
And on the day of the murders,|his state of mind?
He seemed on edge. A little.
On the day of the murders,|what did the defendant request?
He asked to go home early.
He said he was bothered...
by all the people|who kept telling him what to do.
He said he was bothered...
by all the people|who kept telling him what to do?
Is that what you said?
Tell the jury how many people|work in that office...
with you and Mr. Viznik.
How many people?
Well, just me.
Could those voices|have come from outside?
Next room?
-Hey, Mr. Kelson.|-Hi, Robert.
Thanks.
Here's the stuff you wanted|on pathological narcissism.
What about that psychic?|What's his name? Szabo?
He can see you Thursday.
I still think|it's a waste of time.
The police used him|as a witness in the case.
I'll be at my brother's tonight|if you need me.
"D" equals two.
"E" equals three.
So four should be five.
"H" is six. One equals seven.
"J" equals eight.
"K"...nine.
"N"...twelve.
So "E" equals...
"K"..."P" is twenty-four.
Thirteen..."E."
Two..."T."
Thirteen..."E."
Twenty-six..."R."
"Kelson."
We welcome Peter Kelson...
author of the current|bestseller "Vicious Intent"...
as par of today's story|on the trial...
of mass murderer George Viznik.
Thank you so much|For joining us, Peter.
Thanks for having me, Sally.
Peter, you're making a career of|studying sensational murderers.
How does it feel,|day after day...
face to face with killers?
Long-term exposure|to these things...
tends to give you a sort of|clinical understanding...
of the subject.
It sounds as if you're saying|the closer you get to evil...
the less evil it becomes.
No, the less mystifying.
Good and evil|are only illusions.
I don't believe in evil|with a capital "E."
That suggests|some kind of external force...
some third-party bad guy|pulling all the strings.
Are you referring|to the defense's efforts...
to prove that George Viznik|is tormented by demonic voices?
There were no voices.
Not even from mental illness|as the defense asserts?
Are you trying|to get me to say...
there's another cause|for little voices?
No. Viznik's a manipulator.
He has what I call|malignant narcissism.
Hey, beautiful.
Uncle James.
-How you doing?|-Fine, thank you.
That's great.
And you? Lovely as always.
You ready?
Yeah. These guys|have been doing this...
twice a week for ten years...
and they still|can't get it right.
All right,|you shrieking harpies!
Enough of that racket!|Be off with you!
Claire!|You guys are a little late.
Hey, little brother.
-Hey, Will.|-It's about time, man!
I'm starving!
It's good to see you guys|out of the house.
You got to come out here|more often.
Here, Claire, after you.
Bless us, O Lord,|For these Thy gifts.
Through Thy bounty,|through Christ our Lord.
And a special blessing...
for Peter and William's|mother Andrea...
and their father Jack...
in whose memory|we gather here every year.
May their souls and the souls|of the faithfully departed...
rest in peace. Amen.
Amen.
Well, dig in.
I made a reservation at Marco's|for Peter's birthday dinner...
but I'm thinking|I should have you cater it.
Thank you.
-What time did you make it for?|-8:00. Is that good?
Remember that dream I used|to have when I was little...
about the bear on the mountain?
You know, right after--
I don't know. Maybe the trial's|been getting to me...
because I've been having|this weird dream every night.
Really?
You didn't say anything to me.
It's probably trivial.
If it's recurring,|maybe it's not so trivial.
OK, I'll tell you.
I'm reading this book...
and I can't remember what|the book is when I wake up...
but I realize|halfway through it...
it's something|that I've written...
or will write, actually.
And, anyway,|I get to the end of the book...
and I'm feeling very satisfied.
And I close the cover|to read the title...
and the title,|it just says "X-E-S."
Just three letters.
For some reason,|that makes me feel great.
Then I wake up.
It usually makes me|feel great, too.
But I fall asleep|right afterwards.
What do you mean?
"X-E-S"|is "sex" spelled backwards.
What can I say?
I'm not a master of the obvious.
Not even from mental illness|as the defense asserts?
Are you trying|to get me to say...
there's another cause|for little voices, Sally?
No, Viznik's a manipulator.|He's clever.
He has what I call|malignant narcissism.
He's dangerously self-obsessed,|but not psychotic.
He's incapable.
He has no capacity|to understand...
or ability to recognize|any higher authority.
What about Peter Kelson?
Where is your moral compass?
I like to think|I'm the actual needle...
on the compass.
Morality is which way|you're facing...
depending on the dilemma...
but the needle,|it always points north.
"Best-selling author...
"New York native...
"Own parents murdered|in an unsolved crime."
John, I know who he is.
What's going on?
Birdson's repeating numbers.
It's a code I found|in the papers...
that I took from his room.
It spells "Peter Kelson."
So he's the one.
We have to check the criteria.
Baptismal records, blood type.
I found his doctor,|so that's a star.
And then what?
If Father Lareaux's|not up to this...
I filed a report|with Father Frank.
A lot of good that'll do.
The Church dismisses this|completely. You know that.
We need all the help we can get|right now, John. We really do.
-Here?|-There.
Thanks, Mike.
Sure thing, Peter.
Hey, James.
Seems Viznik isn't making|too many friends in lockup.
He got beat up.
I'll get my smokes.|I'll be back.
All right.
What's the matter with you?
He was looking right at me.
He could see me.
Viznik.
Your time's up.
I don't know.
Maybe he was looking|right at himself, right?
Maya, the diocese|has rejected your report.
And I have to tell you...
I agree with them.
I believe|that these are projections...
caused by|your unfortunate childhood.
Maya, Satan is not|what you think he is.
If you really|believed in God, Father...
why is it|so inconceivable to you...
that His adversary|could be just as real?
The Church...
will not tolerate|your obsessions.
If you want to stay here,|leave this alone.
Idiots.
Is anybody in there?
You're not real.
Excuse me.
May I help you?
Yes. I'm from St. Ursula's.
I was told you could help me|with some baptismal records...
for one of our new parishioners.
The person's name?
Peter Kelson.
Here you are.
Great. Thank you.
Hey! What are you doing home?
I forgot my car keys.
What are you doing|on this floor?
We got Mr. Kowalski's mail|again.
Lucky Mr. Kowalski.
Hey, come here.
Just an outside observer.
...what I've heard...
it seems that Mr. Viznik|is probably not schizophrenic.
Can I help you?
Peter Kelson?
I saw you|on television yesterday...
and I thought|you were brilliant.
Thank you.
You work in the building|or coming from the party?
You said something|really interesting.
You said malignant narcissism|was not evil.
Yes, I did.
Not pure evil.|That's correct.
And also that--
I'm sorry,|but I'm running late.
And that there was no such thing|as evil with a capital "E."
It's not the most|popular opinion, but yes.
What if I told you|I was a malignant narcissist?
Have a seat.
I probably wouldn't believe you.
A narcissist wouldn't admit it.
It's basically an extreme form|of self-denial.
-Do you mind?|-Please, be my guest.
You want a drink?
No, thank you.
What if I told you that|I believe in God and the Devil?
In fact, I know that they exist.
Sorry.
I know.
Is that your girlfriend?
Excuse me?
Are you familiar with the case|or Henry Birdson...
the math professor who went home|and murdered his entire family?
Yeah.|What's that got to do with you?
Last week,|the Catholic Church...
certified him|as genuinely possessed.
You realize how rarely|they make that ruling?
Yes, I do.
An exorcism|was held for Mr. Birdson...
and it failed disastrously.
Is that right?
Thank you.
I really think|you should meet him.
With your book on Viznik...
I think you'd find him|very, very interesting.
I'm sure I would.
You seemed so self-assured|on television.
I thought that someone|with your confidence...
would be up for letting someone|try to prove you wrong.
Please, prove me wrong.
The world would be|so much simpler...
if it were all|just about good and evil.
Unfortunately,|I find it a much more--
I actually think|it is that simple.
This is a tape|of the Birdson exorcism.
I'll be in front of|the public library...
at 2:00 tomorrow.
If you're at all interested|in meeting him...
I can take you to where he is.
Hey, Joe.
How's it going?
-Some dir.|-Thanks.
What a racket.
How do you live|with that all day?
What else can I do?
Mrs. Levotsky. Jesus.
Keep your hands off me.
What are you looking at?
Why don't you go inside|and make more noise?
Go play your music.
Play it so loud that nobody|could sleep. Go ahead.
Noisemaker.
Inconsiderate. Selfish.
-Holy Virgin of virgins.|-Pray for us.
-Saint Michael.|-Pray for us.
-Saint Gabriel. Saint Raphael.|-Pray for us.
Holy angels and archangels...
Stop it!
Come on!
Come on, I turned it off!
Where are you?
I'm sorry.
It's just this strange woman|waltzes into my office today...
says she can get me in|to see this killer.
You're not getting involved|in this, are you?
No, of course not.
So, I got you a latte.
Thank you.
Didn't know what you wanted.
I'm glad you came.
Take the Williamsburg Bridge.
What did you think of the tape?
I think you gave me|the wrong one.
What do you mean?
It was blank.|There was nothing on it.
You gave me the wrong one.
Are you sure?
I cranked it all the way up.|Nothing but hum.
So, what'd I miss?
Shouldn't we wait|for the doctor?
I'm sure she won't mind.
It's right here.
It's not locked?
Not necessary anymore.
-Mr. Kelson.|-Hello, Doctor.
What a pleasure to meet you.
I have to say,|your instincts are impeccable.
I am a fan.
Thanks, Doctor. Coming from you,|that's quite a compliment.
When your secretary phoned...
she didn't mention|her coming along, too.
My secretary?
You are aware|that this woman was party...
to the so-called exorcism?
No, I didn't, actually.
I've never felt that Mr. Birdson|needed anything...
but professional|psychiatric care.
Minutes after these people left,|he suffered a stroke.
He's completely comatose.
There's no brain-wave activity|at all.
What do you believe|put him in this condition?
They put him under|severe mental stress.
That caused the aneurysm.
Could you tell us what you heard|when you tried to open the door?
I certainly hope you're not|lending any credence to this.
Just tell him what you heard.
Well, the patient|was in severe distress...
so naturally he was yelling.
And when you opened the door,|was he yelling...
or was he sitting here calmly?
There's a medical explanation|for everything that happened.
You heard the voices.
You know you did.
Sounded like a hundred voices|to me.
I've already said|that Mr. Birdson was agitated.
Victor, would you check on|the patient in room 5, please?
Could you just describe it|to me, the scene?
He opened his eyes.
He just opened his eyes.
I'm surprised at you,|Mr. Kelson.
Allen, he just opened his eyes.
-Please leave.|-Excuse us, Doctor.
I'm not making this up.|I swear!
-Let's go now.|-I did not hallucinate that!
He just opened his eyes!
Where do you get off|pretending to be my secretary?
I had to.
Did you? And this is evil?
The guy had an aneurysm.|Now he's in a coma.
That's their explanation.
I know you don't believe me.
Yeah, well, why should I?
Maya, wait a minute. Wait.
Detective Smythe, please.
Hey, Mike, it's Peter.
I'm good, thanks.
Could you pull some prints|off something for me?
Great.
Father.
It's Maya.
Can you hear me?
Leave him alone.
Once upon a time...
He's not going to respond.
The doctor's afraid|that he might not even recover.
He will. He has great strength.
-What was he saying in there?|-I don't know.
Besides, it's useless.
I mean, look at him.
What are you doing?
You can't back out on me now.
We need to be sure.
He couldn't hear the tape.
What other proof do you need,|Maya?
I'm not going to sit around|until it's too late.
Oh. And what is that, John?
What is that?
Our Father, who are in Heaven,|hallowed be Thy name.
Thy kingdom come,|Thy will be done...
on Earth as it is in Heaven.
Please give me the strength.
Live through me.
Give us this day|our daily bread...
and forgive us our trespasses...
as we forgive those|who trespass against us.
I'm in the dressing room.
...but deliver us from evil...
I picked your tuxedo up|from the cleaners.
Hail Mary, full of grace,|the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou|Amongst women...
and blessed is the fruit|of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God...
pray for us sinners now|and at the hour of our death.
It is the biggest|publishing party of the year.
You'd better hurry up.
Don't fail me.
Give me the grace, strength,|the courage to do your work.
Show me the way.
I saw you on the news.|I think you're even better live.
He is.
By the way, Lauren, did you|finish your book on tattoo art?
I hear your publisher|wants his advance back.
That's not true.
So, Peter,|how crowded is the field now?
I mean, there are, what,|7 books about the Viznik case?
Six, actually.
But no one has the access|that I have.
Is it true|the cops used a psychic?
I saw a psychic once.
Those guys|are definitely for real.
I saw some cable show about...
Cookbooks.
No, thanks.
God will forgive me.
The time of transformation|is near.
What?
You OK?
Sweet hear.
Thanks for handling this.
Sure thing.
I think I got enough between|your preliminary statements...
and all the eyewitness accounts.
You can go home.
Give me till morning|To find out who this guy is...
and till then,|don't sweat it, huh?
Thanks again for everything,|Mike.
Don't thank me.
Somebody up there likes you.
Thanks, bro.
Good evening,|Mr. Kelson, Miss Claire.
I want to tell you something.
I'm so upset.
Your neighbor, Mrs. Levotsky,|she's dead.
-What?|-She's dead.
-That's horrible.|-What happened?
Apparently, sometime last night,|she killed herself.
The paramedics told me|that she hung herself.
Climbed up on her dresser.
A stocking around her neck.
But I don't know.|She was completely rheumatoid.
It's a shame.
Anyway,|I thought you should know.
It's funny.
All my life, I thought I was...
I was someone|who didn't believe in any of it.
It doesn't matter.
He believes in you.
But it's true.|I have no faith, James.
It's strange.
When that gun was pointed|in my face tonight...
I was surprised,|but I was never frightened.
Not for one second.
It was as if I knew nothing|could possibly happen to me.
In that one moment...
I didn't care about anything.
Not even my own life.
Peter, you must care|About your own life.
I respect that you|have such faith, James.
I don't understand it, but...
I want you to know|that I admire you.
I admire you, and I always will.
I appreciate you saying that.
I think I'd better go.
Thanks for coming.
Good morning, Father.
Father, what's wrong?
It's about John.
Last night,|he tried to shoot Kelson.
What?
Maya, John's dead.
Coffee for you, miss?
Thank you.
I can't do this.
-Excuse me.|-Oh, God.
You have to put|your napkin in your lap.
Gina!
How's this? Better?
I'm sorry.|She's really into rules.
That's fine.
Doesn't your daughter|put her napkin on her lap?
I don't have a daughter.
Aren't you lonely?
That's enough.
I have someone|who takes care of me.
But he's dead.
Jesus is dead.
Jesus is dead.
You are so weak.
-How you doing?|-I'm good.
-How you doing?|-Good.
So, what have you found?
Well, we traced this guy|to a seminary in Newark.
Now, if you can believe this,|he was a deacon.
Really?
I talked to the man in charge,|a Father Frank Page...
and he said that the gunman,|John Townsend...
had been caught up in some kind|of nonsense about the Devil...
along with a priest|named Lareaux...
and a woman named Maya Larkin.
Same woman whose prints we took|off that coffee cup you gave us.
So, what's going on here?
-Can we go for a walk?|-Yeah. Sure.
Thanks.
She came to my office|the other day...
and tells me this weird story|about demonic possession.
She's got a juvenile record|from New Orleans.
Her parents died|when she was thirteen.
Her parents died?
Yeah. Murder-suicide.
Anyway, she was a runaway.|Arrested for vandalism...
petty theft, drugs,|the whole bit.
Parole records show|that she graduated...
from community college,|moved into a retreat house...
and teaches some classes|at the seminary school.
Hasn't been|in any trouble since.
Le pain.
Le chien.
Le chapeau.
I need to go to the bathroom.
OK, Daniel.
-Lafleur.|-I need to go to the bathroom.
OK, go ahead, Daniel.
La glace.
Le poulet.
Very good.
Le chat.
Le chapeau.
Good.
We need to talk.
-Peter, I'm in the middle of a--|-Now.
Children,|just stay in your seats.
I'll be...
A guy named John Townsend|tried to shoot me.
Now I find out you knew him.
What the fuck is going on?
Why did he try to kill me? Why?
Townsend believed that just|as God became man in Christ...
Satan will assume human form.
Oh, my God.
I believe it, too.
And the point is?
At the exorcism,|Birdson boasted...
that Satan was about|to take over the body of a man.
You are that man, Peter.
What?
It's true. He knew your name.
He was writing it|in this numerical code.
I figured it out.|It spelled your name.
You should really think hard|about getting professional help.
You're already--
Get your hands off me.
You're already contaminated,|Peter.
That's why|you couldn't hear the tape.
There's probably a pentacle|near your bed to sanctify you.
-I'm won't be drawn into this.|-Look for it.
I know it sounds crazy.
You need proof.|Check your parents' blood types.
No, don't.|My parents are dead!
Are you sure your parents|are your birth parents?
My parents are dead.
You're becoming the Antichrist|who is born unholy...
and becomes the door to eternal|suffering in this world.
If you or any|of your lunatic friends...
ever come near me again...
You have no messages|at this time.
Melvin Szabo,|this is Peter Kelson.
Peter, this is the psychic.
I'd appreciate it|if you'd put that back.
You're the younger one of two.
You're afraid of committing|to this girl...
but she worships you.
Your mother is dead,|but your father is alive.
Nothing you couldn't find out|from reading the papers...
and you're already wrong|on one count.
Viznik will get off, and Robert|has got a crush on you.
How dare you?|You know what?
You can go.
Suit yourself.
I will.
But does this mean|anything to you?
You do know, don't you,|that these are also numbers?
Greek numbers--
six hundred, sixty, and six.
Or the sign of the Devil.
Get out of here.
Wait a minute.
"God will forgive me."
"The time of transformation|is near."
Get the fuck out of here.
-Look, I'm--|-Just get out.
Help me.
Show--
I don't understand|what's going on.
This has been planned|since your birth.
You fit all the criteria|That we know of.
Never baptized, devoid of faith,|born of incest.
I was baptized.
I was certainly|not born of incest.
You were never baptized.
At least, I don't believe|it was Christian.
Your baptism was performed|by your uncle...
James MacKenzie, right?
Yes, I know.
The only baptism|he ever performed...
in seven years|as pastor at Bedford.
Yeah, so what?
Seven years. One baptism?
Your mother's only brother?
Do you know|your parents' blood types?
My father was O-positive...
and my mother, A-negative.
You're an AB-negative.
There is no way...
that your birthfather|could be an O-positive.
It's impossible.
This is ridiculous.
There's been a mistake.|I don't believe any of this.
Then why are you here?
When Townsend tried to kill me,|he said something.
"The time of transformation|is near."
What does that mean?
He must've figured something out|on his own.
Maybe we should go to his house.
It's hot in here.
What are we looking for exactly?
I don't know.|Papers, anything.
He's bought all my books.
What's this?
Spells.
What was that?
It's just a bulb.
It blew. It's OK.
There's nothing here.|I'll check upstairs, OK?
All right.
There's nothing upstairs|except empty rooms.
You got anything here?
It's not what we're looking for.
I'll keep looking.
No. Not again.
You're not real.
Watch out. It's sharp.
Henry, I know you don't|Want to do this.
Henry, I know you don't|Want to do this.
I know you don't.
Put it down.
Put it down.
Shit.
Peter, he can't hurt you.
You OK?
Keep it up.
Your thirty-third birthday.
That's the transformation|Townsend was talking about.
He found it|in one of Lareaux's books.
What are you doing?
It's going to happen...
at the exact moment|of your birth.
My birthday's tomorrow.
What?
Oh, my God!
Know what the last thing|I said to my mother was?
"See you tomorrow."
And she said, "You know it."
And I can see her face...
smiling.
A real smile.
Why didn't you just|go along with Townsend?
Because until it happens,|you're still a person.
What about after?
You're gone.
But if you die...
then Satan can't stay.
Unless we stop|the transformation.
It should be in here.
Here it is.
Tomorrow afternoon,4:55.
Maybe there's something|in one of Lareaux's books.
They're in the car.|I'll check. Just stay here.
What are you doing|on this floor?
We got Mr. Kowalski's mail|again.
Yeah? Lucky Mr. Kowalski.
Here he is.|He's right here.
Sweetheart, where have you been?
I've been so worried.
Is this the person|you were telling me about?
What are these?
I don't know. What are they?
I found them|behind your picture.
They're the spare set.
I thought the spare set|was in the kitchen drawer.
You were hiding them.
Darling, you're tired.
I found the pentacle.
The pentacle?|What are you talking about?
I found the pentacle, Claire.
She's been stalking you, Peter.
No. Give me the gun, Claire!
Maya, look.
Little one! Ah, yes.
Thank God you're better.
We really need your help.
We only have|a couple of more hours.
Don't worry.
Not about the transformation.
What do you mean,|don't worry about it?
In my prayers...
I came to realize that we've|Been fooling ourselves.
Probably blown this out|of all proportion.
And that God...
would never allow|a thing like this to happen.
I told you.|This was a myth all along.
So we won.
That's right, Maya.
We won.
Christ triumphed over Satan.
That's right, Maya.
So if Christ won, that means--|What does that mean, Father?
Satan is the weak one.
He's the coward who trembles.
The whimpering slave of God.
Maya, that's enough.
Come here.
He will make Christ crawl...
through the shit!
He's our best chance|if we can get him back.
What can I do?
Just wait outside.
So are you going to do it?
I don't have the expertise.
Father Thomas should officiate.
Bless me, Father,|for I have sinned.
Help me overcome all fear|and selfishness.
Help me find|and keep my strength.
Help me fight the evil|I'm about to see...
with all the courage|you can give.
Amen.
Amen.
Father, please don't die.
Don't die.
Go...
and find his uncle.
Don't die.
"God appears,|and God is light...
"to those poor souls|who dwell in night.
"But does a human form...
"display to those|who dwell in realms of day?"
Welcome.
Did you really think|that you could just end this?
They had|Their two thousand years.
Now it's our turn.
Everything you said...
Everything you did...
I did for you, Peter.
I love you.
Think of it.
I'm giving you a gift.
Absolute power.
Peter, absolute knowledge.
But you raised me|like your own son.
Why, yes.|You are my son, Peter.
You are my son.
Peter, don't you see|the opportunities...
that lie before you?
You killed my parents.|How could you?
I had to.
No! It's what they want.
Don't do it, Peter!
Do it! It will be|my ultimate sacrifice.
If you commit murder,|you accept evil.
Drop it.
You have no idea how much you|look like your mother right now.
Thank you, Maya.|You served us quite well.
Go ahead.
I'm not strong enough for this.
Listen to me.
I'll see you tomorrow.
It didn't happen. Maya.
It didn't happen.
I'm OK.
Put the gun down.
Maya, please, it's me.
It's me. It's me.
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