All language subtitles for American.Horror.Story.S02E06

911. What is your emergency?

You need to send
a car to Briarcliff.

They're waiting.
Who's waiting?

I've been a very busy boy.

Can you give me your name?

Hello?

You'll know my name
when you see them.

They were imposters.

Police.

Anybody here?

Jesus, Bobby.

Holy shit.

Sync & corrections by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com

I used to think
it must be my fault.

My own child, who lived
inside me for nine months,

someone I nursed and bathed
and held and sang lullabies to.

I have two other children, Sister,

both of them perfectly normal.

She sounds like quite a handful,
Mrs. Reynolds,

but we do not have
a children's ward here.

Oh, but she's
more than a child, Sister.

In fact, that's the problem.

She's always seemed like an adult.

Do you know that she's never cried?

Not once, not even
when she was a little baby.

I'm going to tell you something

I haven't told anyone.

Jenny and her little friend, Josie,

were playing after school.

I had told them to go out into
the woods to gather leaves.

We were gonna make a fall wreath.

See, Josie was the only one
who would play with Jenny,

and I wanted it to go well.

I tried to stop him,
but he was bigger than me,

and he said he would kill me, too,

if I didn't stand very
still and be quiet.

He was tall, he had a
beard and a brown jacket.

And they never found the bearded man

with the brown coat, I take it?

They searched.

Two days ago, I was doing the laundry,

and I found this in her pocket.

I can't go to the police.

Sister, I can't.
She's my daughter.

Oh, Mrs. Reynolds...

One of my dreams

for Briarcliff has been to open

a children's ward.

There are so many

little souls who could use our help.

But we can do nothing until that time.

Prayer...

is your strength and your ally.

Could you just meet with her?

She's right downstairs
with her coloring book.

Sister, just help me understand,

where does this evil come from?

Could she have been born that way?

Is there
anything more heavenly

than waking from a nap

to the smell of
croque-monsieur?

I bet this is what your mother made you

after school on a rainy day.

You can scream all you want.
No one will hear you.

Obviously, the basement is soundproof.

Believe me, girls with
bigger sets of lungs

than yours have tried before.

Where's Wendy?

What did you do with her body?

I put her somewhere where
she'll never be found.

It wouldn't do to have her body pop up

now that Kit Walker has confessed

to all those horrendous murders.

Can I tell you a secret?

Nutmeg makes all the difference

in the world.

Croque-monsieur
and tomato soup.

The perfect mommy snack.

Only I didn't have

a mother to make this for me.

Well, of course,

I had a mother, but I never knew her.

She was about your age
when she abandoned me.

You grew up in an orphanage?

Yeah. In the system.

Where all my basic needs were met:

food, water,

a rudimentary education.

And with the help

of a leather crop,

learning the difference
between right and wrong.

They followed all the rules.

Especially the rules against affection

or any unnecessary bodily contact,

because touch would certainly
spoil the child.

This is good.

You're right.

This is good.

It's delicious.

I'm not trying to patronize you, Oliver.

I just want you to know

how much I appreciate
this act of kindness.

I know what it's like to be abandoned.

That's how I felt at Briarcliff.

I was right about you.

You're the one.

Lana, I've always
been self-aware.

I knew I was different
from the other kids.

I was smarter.

But I was also more afflicted.

It's what led me to study psychiatry...

to better understand my disorder.

It wasn't until medical school

that I had
my first breakthrough, though.

Hey, Thredson, from what I hear,

this is the closest you'll get
to a girlfriend this quarter.

I would laugh along
with my idiot colleagues,

but I knew the woman on the
table wasn't my girlfriend.

I trust you gentlemen
have reviewed the material

in preparation for today.

She was my mother.
She was 33 years old,

the same age as my mother
when she abandoned me.

The same age as you, Lana.

Now, I knew logically, rationally,

that the woman on the table
wasn't my mother.

But somehow, in the
cosmic joke that is my life,

I felt like she could be.

And it was poetic justice
that I would be meeting her

for the first time on a slab
in my gross anatomy class.

It was then that I knew
what I was missing.

A mother's touch.

Skin-to-skin contact.

It's what I was craving.

It's what I was missing my whole life.

Oh, but she smelled of formaldehyde.

And her skin, even after I
removed it, was cold and stiff.

Have you ever read

or heard about the Harlow studies?

Baby rhesus monkeys

were separated
from their mothers after birth,

and they were given
two substitute mothers:

a wire mesh one with milk

and the other covered in terrycloth.

Every monkey preferred
the terrycloth-covered mother,

even if it didn't have milk.

Because of the warmth?

Because of the skin.

Even monkeys know the difference.

I tried, I really tried.

But that cadaver did nothing
to quiet my craving.

I needed someone...

...a little more lively.

Warm living skin.

No, no, no, no, no.

It's okay.

It's okay, because now that you're here,

all of that work is behind me.

Mommy.

Hello?

Sister Jude.

It's Sam Goodman.

Sam, I tried calling you,

but you never got back to me.

I was working on your case.

Yes, but I-I-I asked you
to stop.

I mean, this girl, this mental patient,

she wasn't Anne Frank.

I mean, she just made
the whole thing up.

Well, somehow,

she got it right.

He is Hans Grouper.

He was an SS officer and a physician...

at Auschwitz.
What?

Did you say...

she got it right?

After the liberation,

he obtained a laissez-passer

from the International Red Cross
under the name Arthur Arden.

I have the original documents

from the Red Cross,

but I need Grouper's fingerprint
to establish a match.

Be careful. The man is dangerous
and a flight risk.

These men are always on their guard.

The moment they get nervous,
they disappear.

As soon as you have the print,

bring it directly to the motel.

Who are you?

I'm Jenny.

I told your mother,

we don't have a children's ward here.

Where is she?
She's gone.

She kissed me on the cheek

and said, "Be good, Jenny."

Sister Mary Eunice!

I need help here.

Monsignor, thank you for coming.

Oh, it's my pleasure.

I consider it a privilege
to perform last rites.

Oh, thank God you're
a man of compassion.

We called several priests in the area,

but they were all in a panic
over the news reports.

Especially after they published
those grim pictures of her.

What exactly is wrong with her?

No one knows.

Our doctors have ordered
a battery of tests.

But she did test positive for TB.

Oh, I didn't realize
there were still new cases.

I should warn you...

the sight of her is quite shocking.

We're all God's creatures.

I'll be in the hall if you need me.

Hi, child.

Shelly?

Oh, look at that,

Father James.

This will make a splendid dayroom

for our residents.

All right, I thought all

TB patients had been cleared out.

These are
the incurables,

those whose tuberculosis
was too far advanced

for any of the new miracle drugs

to have an effect.
God bless.

Well, he hasn't yet.

Dr. Arthur Arden,
Briarcliff's

Tubercular Ward's supervising physician.

Former supervising
physician, I should say.

Father Timothy Howard...

Yes, I know who you are.

You're the new owner.

Sally Starns.

She was actually a
nurse here at one time.

She won't live till morning,
not if she's lucky.

Through this holy anointing,

may the Lord and his love

and mercy help you with the grace

of the Holy Spirit.

May the Lord who frees you from sin

save you and raise you up.

It's all right, my daughter.

The Prince of Peace

opens his arms to you.

Back when the epidemic was at its worst,

we'd sometimes move more than

100 bodies a week down through here.
Oh.

- How did you manage to keep up with
all the burials? - There were no burials.

Most of the people here
have long since been forgotten.

We incinerate the bodies

in the crematorium out back

and store the ashes in here.

All these wasted lives.

All these wasted opportunities.

I suppose it will be a relief for you

to finally leave this place.

The end of my
tenure at Briarcliff

also means the end of my research.

Research?

I've been working
on an immune booster.

It's a sort of bacterial
cocktail, if you will.

It would actually inhibit most disease

from ever taking hold in the human body.

What would you need
to further your work?

Human trials would have
been the next step.

I assume it would be difficult
to find volunteers.

From the general public, yes.

But there are those whose lives
otherwise serve no purpose.

Through our work together,
they would have contributed

to the greater good.

A good that would not go unnoticed.

Even in Rome.

I'm sorry.

Would you have preferred Mozart?

Jude was right about you.

You're a monster.

Why do you look for the speck

of sawdust in your brother's eye...

and pay no attention
to the plank in your own?

I saw that girl, what you did

to Shelly.

All in the name of progress.

Isn't that what we agreed upon?

No, you told me this
was for the greater good.

You mutilated her!

Perhaps.

But you're missing the entire point.

Briarcliff is a receptacle

for human waste.

Each patient a perfect example

of an evolutionary failure.

♪ Jesus... ♪

Oh, yeah.

♪ Loves me ♪

Oh, yeah, that's it, that's it.

Yeah, oh.

Another mess to
clean up, Mr. Spivey?

You seemed to have

mistaken the broom closet
for the playground,

where you used to expose yourself

to innocent little boys and girls.

No, never the boys, Doc.

I had my standards.

You are utterly depraved.

You've done nothing to improve yourself.

No, you're wrong, Doc.

I'm a new man.

I used to have these disgusting urges

that wouldn't quit
until I busted a nut--

I mean, even in public--
but I'm not sneaking around

with my pants down anymore.

It was Sister Mary Eunice that asked me

to come watch her flash her pussy...

My aim was to give
these wasted lives purpose,

meaning,

and I've succeeded

beyond my wildest imagination.

My experiments

with a combination of syphilis
and tuberculosis

have produced results unseen in
the history of medical science.

When they arrived here, these
patients were less than men.

Now, because of me,

they're more than human.

Would you care to see what

your benevolence has produced?

Witness the next stage
of human evolution.

Have you lost your mind?

Why on earth would you do this?

Why?

When the Russians launch
their nuclear missiles,

20 million Americans will
be incinerated instantly.

Another 20 million will suffer
a slow, agonizing death.

Natural selection would have

weeded out the weak, but only
over the course of time.

Whereas I have managed
to improve the species now,

so that we can survive the atomic blast,

live through the radiation and become

dominant once again.

You should be locked away.

With you to keep me company?

We're in this together, Father.

Remember?

You gave me your blessing,
along with the facility

and the subjects.

I cannot allow this to continue.

I have to expose this
to the light of day.

If you do open that window,

the light will illuminate
everything in Briarcliff.

And I mean everything.

Yes, that's what I thought.

Now, you listen to me.

You and I have nothing
to fear from each other.

However, we do have a threat in common.

We both know where the real danger lies.

Can I try that?

You're too young to use a knife.
You'll cut yourself.

Why'd your mother
abandon you here anyway?

She's scared of me.
Really?

Why?

She thinks I killed Josie.

Did you?

No.

Did so.
How do you know?

I know everything.

I'm the devil.

She deserved it, that Josie.

She was a phony little shit.

She didn't even like you.

She just played with you
because her mother told her to.

But you're lucky, because you were born

with the gift of authentic impulse.

Don't ever let them kill it.

I wasted so much time

trying to be a good girl.

All I wanted in the whole world

was for people to like me.

Okay, okay everyone, it's time!

Let's all welcome Mary Eunice McKee

to our annual pool event.

Hey, why don't you get up on
the diving board, Mary Eunice?

You're our guest of honor today.

♪ Love me... ♪
Go ahead.

♪ But how do I know? ♪
♪ Tell me ♪

♪ How do I know? ♪
All right, everyone.

On the count of three,

we're all gonna drop our robes.

One...

two... three!

I was just everyone's victim.

Poor Mary Eunice.

The only place I thought
I'd be safe was with God.

God.

You know there's no God, right?

You already figured out that it's just

a bunch of crap someone made up

to keep you from being who you are,

from doing what you really want to do.

What a chump.

Look where it got me.

Right here, taking shit
from a mean old bitch

who drinks and wears trashy red lingerie

under her habit.

But not for long.

They're gonna lock me up in my room.

I'll never be able to do
anything I want ever again.

Don't be a whiner.

You're smarter than they are.

Don't you ever forget it.

Maybe you just need to learn
how to defend yourself.

Fine. We'll be expecting you.

Monsignor.

Crisis averted.

I mean, she-she went off

and-and left her daughter here,

as if we're some kind of
personal child care facility.

For heaven's sakes,

what is that expression
on your face, Timothy?

It seems Briarcliff's become
quite a burden for you.

No, no.

We just had a few, uh, difficult days,

but the order has been restored...

Sister, I've contacted a colleague,

Father Bernard, in Pittsburgh.

He's just opened a home
for wayward girls.

I've recommended you highly

to run it.

Are you firing me?

You've lost your way.

You need a new beginning.

You're booked on a plane

out of Logan Airport,
Friday morning, 8:30 a.m.

This is... this is all
about Dr. Arden, isn't it?

Dr. Arden is not
the issue here!

Dr. Arden is
entirely the issue here!

He's turned you against me.

But I was right about him.

Pack up your things, Sister.

Little Jenny Reynolds' mother
came by and picked her up.

That's fine.

Is there anything else, Sister?

No, Sister.

Yes, Sister.
What are you doing?

I'm packing.

I'm leaving Briarcliff.

The monsignor, in his wisdom,

has decided that my talents
would serve better elsewhere.

Pittsburgh, as it turns out.

Pittsburgh?

No, Sister Jude,
you can't leave Briarcliff.

I have no choice.

But what will become of us?

No, I won't leave you

to the tender mercies
of Dr. Arden.

There's something I can do
before I'm exiled.

Go to the kitchen.

The special bottle of cognac
I keep for the monsignor--

bring it to me.

And two very clean glasses.

Thredson residence.

Thank God you picked up,
Dr. Thredson.

You're my one phone call.

Listen, you got to help me.

The cops put me in jail,
and they say they have proof

I killed Alma and those other ladies.

They say

they have a tape of my confession.

I thought we had a deal.

I thought you said, if I say
all that stuff out loud,

you'll tell the courts
I could stay at Briarcliff.

No, no, Kit.

I told you to say
what you believe is true.

I was confused.

Now I know the truth.

Alma's not dead. Grace saw her.

She told me.
Kit...

you need to take responsibility
for what you did.

You said you'd lie for me
so I could avoid the chair,

but all you did was lie to me.

How'd the cops get the tape, huh?

Did you give it to them?

Oh, come on.

I bet this was

your plan all along, wasn't it?

You didn't want to help me.

You're full of shit, and you're a liar.

Stop. You stop calling me that.

You're a phony, lying bastard!

Stop...! Stop calling me that!

He's unbelievable.

He has the nerve to call me a liar,

when he's the one spouting fantasies

about little green men!

Kit?

You talk to him?

Perspiration from a rise
in body temperature.

Accelerated heart rate.

What are you up to?

Nothing.

I knew it.

You were gonna abandon me.

Just like my mother.

You're all the same.

I'm not...
Shut your dirty mouth.

I'm not like them.

I'm not.

I'm not like them.
I'm not like them.

It's such a disappointment...

I'm not.

...when people don't
live up to expectations.

Sometimes all you can do is...
end it.

This is your fault.

You have no one to blame but yourself.

Please.

♪ You don't own me ♪

♪ I'm not just one of your many toys ♪

♪ You don't own me ♪

♪ Don't say I can't go with other boys ♪

♪ And don't tell me what to do ♪

♪ And don't tell me what to say ♪

♪ And, please, when I go out with you ♪

♪ Don't put me on display... ♪

Hello.

It's Sam Goodman.

This is Sister Jude.

Toast, Arthur.

A toast to what?

You won.

And I've always prided myself
on my good sportsmanship.

To your impressive
single-mindedness.

I thought this was
supposed to be a toast.

Ah, yes.

We're abstaining these days, aren't we?

I wouldn't dream of drinking alone.

You know...

there are times in life
that warrant an exception.

To you.

And to God's will.

Yes?

I'm sorry, did Sister Jude send you?

She doesn't know I'm here.

Mr. Goodman?

Mr. Goodman?

I came as fast I could.

I have the glass with the fingerprints.

Mr. Goodman?

Hello. Hello?

Huh.

Oh, God.

Oh, no!

Oh... no...

Oh, God.

Oh, my God.

I'll call an ambulance.

Listen, listen...

What?
Listen...

Arden did this.

No, no.

Nun.
Ah... What?

What? What?

What did...?
A nun...

A nun.
A nun...

A nun?

What?
One of...

yours.

One of... yours.

Hans Grouper.

You were handsome.

Do you mean to tell me Sister Jude

has this Israeli Sherlock Holmes
holed up in some motel?

She was determined to expose you.

But you don't need to worry anymore.

I've taken care of everything...

Hans.

Don't...

call me that.

Ever.

Are you quite sure this is all of it?

No.

It's not all of it.

I've hidden some evidence away

in case you try
and double-cross me.

You must understand, these...

so-called Nazi hunters
are nothing but...

self-loathing,
self-seeking,

money-grubbing Jews!

The Catholic Church
certainly understood that.

At least the Pope had
the good sense to...

Arthur...
I am not a monster!

I'm a visionary.

Do you have any idea how
lonely a path this is?

What it's like to have to
carry on your work in secret,

hiding from those pious vigilantes?
Arthur!

You're preaching to the converted.

Why?

Why are you protecting me?

You're not in love with me.

I'm no fool.

I know I'm too old.

Too ugly.

Is there something...

you want from me?

This is the beginning
of a whole new era.

All you need to do

is trust me

with your entire soul,

and I promise you

that everything will work out.

Who killed her?

Did you see him?

He was tall.

He had a beard

and a brown jacket.

First, he slashed my brother
and sister's throats,

then he stabbed my mother in the back.

I tried to stop him,

but he said he would kill me, too,

if I moved a muscle.

You're trying not to scream.

But you will.

They always do
when I make the first incision.

But then shock will take over...

...and you won't
feel anything.

It doesn't have to be this way.

I wish that were true, Lana.

I had such high hopes for you.

From the moment

I saw you, so ambitious,

so... alive.

I was never alive in there.

No, not there.

Before Briarcliff.

Oh, come on, Phil.

Aren't you sick and tired
of writing the same piece

with different names?

Start with some blood and guts,
a pinch of sympathy

for the poor victims,

and then top it off with moral outrage.

Isn't that the recipe?
You're the one who knows about recipes.

What are you doing here?

And when did you get
assigned to the crime beat?

You think Upton Sinclair
waits to be assigned a story?

I'm making this my story.

Oh, a woman's touch, huh?
Yes, exactly.

That's what's been missing
from this story.

You think this mook's just some monster,

but no monster starts off that way.

He was somebody's precious baby,
crying for his mommy.

Here comes your precious baby now.

Hey, Walker, why'd you do it?

Huh?

Where's the body?

Come on, Walker.

What, you got nothing to say?

You got a statement, Walker?

I thought that you

were the first person

who could understand.
I do.

I do understand.
No.

You don't.

That's all right, Oliver.

I don't want you to feel guilty.

A mother's love is unconditional.

You never had that, did you?

Everyone deserves that.

Even you.

Baby.

It's me.

My baby.

Baby needs colostrum.

Car out front is registered

to a Leo Morrison out
of Encino, California.

He one of our dead
trick-or-treaters?

Doubtful. Mr. Morrison's
in his early 30s.

We're putting these three as teenagers.

Still trying to I.D. them.

Detectives!

We got another one!

Mr. Morrison,
I presume.

All right, full search of the grounds.

Let's do it before we lose daylight.

We're looking for at least a body part.

Chances are whoever
called this in is our perp.

This is Detective John Grayson.

Who is this?

You know who I am.

No, I don't.

Did you kill these people?

Only the imposters.

I just wanted you to know that.

Just spoke to Leo Morrison's sister.

He's out here on his honeymoon.

Shit.

Where's his bride?

Sync & corrections by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com