All language subtitles for Hannibal S1 Ep1

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I shoot Mr. Marlow twice,

severing jugulars and carotids
with near-surgical precision.

He will die watching me take
what is his away from him.

This is my design.

I shoot Mrs. Marlow expertly
through the neck.

This is not a fatal wound.
The bullet misses every artery.

She is paralyzed
before it leaves her body.

Which doesn't mean
she can't feel pain.

It just means
she can't do anything about it.

This is my design.

'This is DDX Security.
Who am I speaking with?'

I need the incident report
for the home security company.

This was recorded as a false alarm.

There was a false alarm
last... week.

He tapped their phone.

Yeah, it's been tapped.

'He recorded Mrs. Marlow's
conversation with the security company.'

'This is DDX Security.
Who am I speaking with?'

'Theresa Marlow.'

'Can you please confirm
your password for security purposes?'

'Tea kettle.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Marlow.
We detected a front-door alarm.'

'Yeah, sorry about that.'

'Is there anyone in the house
with you, Mrs. Marlow?'

'I'm just here with my husband.'

'Do you require
any further assistance?'

'No. Thank you so much for calling.'

And this is when it gets
truly horrifying for Mrs. Marlow.

Everyone has thought about killing
someone one way or another.

Be it your own hand
or the hand of God.

Now think about killing Mrs. Marlow.

Why did she deserve this?
Tell me your design.

Tell me who you are.

Mr. Graham.

Special Agent Jack Crawford.
I head the Behavioural Science Unit.

- We've met.
- Yes...

We had a disagreement
when we opened up the museum.

I disagreed with what you named it.

The, uh, Evil Minds Research Museum.

It's a little hammy, Jack.

I see you've hitched
your horse to a teaching post,

and I also understand
it's difficult for you to be social.

Well, I'm just talking at them.
I'm not listening to them. It's not social.

I see...

May I?

Where do you fall
on the spectrum?

My horse is hitched to a post

that is closer
to Asperger's and autistics

than narcissists and sociopaths.

But you can empathize
with narcissists and sociopaths.

I can empathize with anybody.

It's less to do
with a personality disorder

than an active imagination.

Um...

Can I borrow your imagination?

Eight girls abducted from eight
different Minnesota campuses,

all in the last eight months.

- I thought there were seven.
- There were.

When did you tag the eighth?

About three minutes before
I walked into your lecture hall.

You're calling them abductions
because you don't have any bodies?

No bodies, no parts of bodies,
nothing that comes out of bodies.

Then those girls weren't taken from
where you think they were taken.

- Then where were they taken from?
- I don't know. Someplace else.

All of them abducted on a Friday

so they wouldn't have to be
reported missing until Monday.

However he's covering his tracks,
he needs a weekend to do it.

- Number eight?
- Elise Nichols.

St Cloud State on the Mississippi.
Disappeared on Friday.

Supposed to house-sit for her parents
over the weekend, feed the cat.

Never made it home.

One through seven are dead,
don't you think?

He's not keeping them around.
He got himself a new one.

So we focus on Elise Nichols.

They're all very, um...
Mall of America.

- That's a lot of wind-chafed skin.
- Same hair colour, same eye colour.

Roughly the same age.
Same height, same weight.

So what is it
about all of these girls?

It's not about all of these girls.
It's just about one of them.

He's like Willy Wonka,
every girl he takes is a candy bar,

and hidden in amongst
all of those candy bars

is the one true intended victim,

which, if we follow through on
our metaphor, is your golden ticket.

So is he warming up
for his golden ticket,

or just reliving
whatever it is he did to her?

The golden ticket wouldn't be
the first taken or the last.

He would hide how special she was.

- I mean, I would. Wouldn't you?
- I want you to get closer to this.

No. You have Heimlich at Harvard
and Bloom at Georgetown.

- They do the same thing I do.
- That's not exactly true, is it?

You have a very specific way
of thinking about things.

Has there been a lot of discussion
about the specific way I think?

- You make jumps you can't explain.
- No, no. The evidence explains.

Then help me find some evidence.

That may require me to be sociable.

She could've gone off by herself.

She... she was a very interior
young woman.

She didn't like living
in her dorm.

I could see how the pressure of school
might have gotten to her.

She likes trains.
Maybe she just got on a train and...

- She looks like the other girls.
- Yes, she fits the profile.

Could Elise still be alive?

We simply have no way of knowing.

- How's the cat?
- What?

How's your cat?
Elise was supposed to feed it.

Was the cat weird
when you came home?

It must've been hungry.
It didn't eat all weekend.

I didn't notice.

Could you give us a moment, please?

He took her from here.

She got on a train,
she came home, she fed the cat.

Then he took her.

The Nichols' house is a crime scene.
I need ERT immediately.

I want Zeller, Katz and Jimmy Price.
Yes, and a photographer.

Why is it now a crime scene?

Can I see your daughter's room?

Police were up there
this morning.

No, I'll get that.

Mr. Nichols, please put
your hands in your pockets

and avoid touching anything.

But we've been
in and out of here all day.

You can hold the cat, if it's easier.

Elise.

I need you to leave the room.

Take your time.
When you're ready to talk, you talk.

If you don't feel like it, you don't talk.
We'll be downstairs.

You let me know when
you're ready for us to come in.

- You're Will Graham.
- You're not supposed to be in here.

You wrote the standard monograph
on time of death by insect activity.

I found antler velvet
in two of the wounds.

- You're not real FBI?
- I'm a special investigator.

- Never been an FBI agent?
- Um... Strict screening procedures.

Detects instability...
You unstable?

You're not supposed to be in here.

I found antler velvet in two
of the wounds, like she was gored.

I was looking for velvet in the other
wounds but I was interrupted.

Hold on, excuse me.
Deer and elk pin their prey.

They put all their weight into
their antlers and suffocate a victim.

That's how they'd kill a fox or a coyote.

Elise Nichols was strangled,
suffocated, her ribs are broken.

Antler velvet is rich in nutrients.
It actually promotes healing.

- He may have put it in there on purpose.
- You think he was trying to heal her?

He wanted to undo
as much as he could,

given that he'd already killed her.

He put her back where he found her.

Whatever he did to the others,
he couldn't do it to her.

Is this his golden ticket?

No, no.

This is an apology.

Does anyone have any aspirin?

Hello.

Hey-

Hey. Hey. Hey.
Come on.

Hey-

Come here.

Hey-

Winston, this is everybody.

Everybody, this is Winston.

Tss! Tss!

That's right.

What are you doing in here?

- I enjoy the smell of urinal cake.
- Me too. We need to talk.

Use the ladies' room!

- You respect my judgment, Will?
- Mm-hm. Yes.

Good, because we will stand
a better chance of catching this guy

with you in the saddle.

Yeah, I'm in the saddle.

I'm just, um... confused
which direction I'm pointing.

I don't know this kind of psychopath.
Never read about him.

I don't even know if he's a psychopath.
He's not insensitive, he's not shallow.

You know something about him,

otherwise you wouldn't have said,
"This is an apology."

- What is he apologizing for?
- He couldn't honour her. He feels bad.

Feeling bad defeats the purpose
of being a psychopath, doesn't it?

- Yes, it does!
- Then what kind of crazy is he?

He couldn't show her he loved her,

so he put her corpse
back where he killed it.

- Whatever crazy that is.
- You think he loves these girls?

He loves one of them,
and, yes, I think by association,

he has some form of love
for the others.

There was no semen, there was
no saliva. Elise Nichols died a virgin.

- She stayed that way.
- That's not how he's loving them.

He wouldn't disrespect them that way!

He doesn't want these girls to suffer.
He kills them quickly and...

...to his thinking, with mercy.

Sensitive psychopath.

Risked getting caught

so he could tuck Elise Nichols
back into bed.

He has to take the next girl soon...

...cos he knows
he's gonna get caught.

One way or the other.

I got you.

Graham likes you.

Doesn't think you'll run
any mind games on him.

I don't. I'm as honest with him
as I'd be with a patient.

You've been observing him while
you've been guest-lecturing here?

I've never been in a room
alone with Will.

Why not?

Because I wanna be his friend,
and I am.

It seems a shame not to take
advantage. Academically speaking.

You already asked me to do
a study on him. I said no.

Anything scholarly on Will Graham would
have to be published posthumously.

So you've never been alone with him

because you have
a professional curiosity about him.

Normally I wouldn't even broach this,

but what do you think one
of Will's strongest drives is?

- Fear.
- Mm-hm.

Will Graham deals
with huge amounts of fear.

- It comes with his imagination.
- It's the price of imagination.

Alana, I wouldn't put him out there
if I didn't think I could cover him.

If I didn't think
I could cover him 80%.

- I wouldn't put him out there.
- He's out there. I need him out there.

Should he get too close, I need you
to make sure he's not out there alone.

Promise me something, Jack.

- Don't let him get too close.
- He won't... get too close.

OK. Tried her skin for prints.
Of course nothing.

We did get a hand spread
off her neck.

Report say anything about nails?

Fingernails were smudged and
the scrapings were from her own palms.

- She never scratched him.
- Piece of metal is all we got.

We should be looking at plumbers,
steamfitters, tool workers...

Other injuries were probably
but not conclusively post-mortem,

so not gored.

She has lots of piercings that look
like they were caused by deer antlers.

I didn't say the deer was responsible
for putting them there.

She was mounted on them.

Like hooks.

- She may have been bled.
- Her liver was removed.

See that? He took it out,
and then... yep, he put it back in.

Why would he cut it out if he's just
gonna sew it back in again?

There was something wrong
with the meat.

She has liver cancer.

Yeah, he's, um... he's eating them.

Please.

Thank you.

I hate being this neurotic.

If you weren't neurotic, Franklyn,
you would be something much worse.

Our brain is designed to experience
anxiety in short bursts,

not the prolonged duress
yours has seemed to enjoy.

That's why you feel as though a lion
were on the verge of devouring you.

- Franklyn.
- Yes.

You have to convince yourself
the lion is not in the room.

When it is, I assure you,
you will know.

Dr Lecter. I'm Special Ag...

I hate to be discourteous, but this
is a private exit for my patients.

Oh, Dr Lecter. Sorry, um...

I'm Special Agent Jack Crawford, FBI.
May I come in?

You may wait in the waiting room.
Franklyn, I'll see you next week.

- Yes.
- Unless, of course, this is about him.

No, this is all about you.

Please, come in.

So, may I ask how
this is all about me?

You can ask, but I may have
to ask you a few questions first.

- You expecting another patient?
- We're all alone.

Good.
No secretary?

She was predisposed
to romantic whims.

Followed her heart
to the United Kingdom.

Sad to see her go.

Wow.

- Are these yours, Doctor?
- Among the first.

My boarding school in Paris
when I was a boy.

The amount of detail is incredible.

I learned very early a scalpel cuts
better points than a pencil sharpener.

Well, now I understand
why your drawings earned you

an internship at Johns Hopkins.

I'm beginning to suspect
you're investigating me, Agent Crawford.

No, no, you were referred to me
by Alana Bloom

in the Psychology Department,
Georgetown.

Most psychology departments are
filled with personality deficients.

- Dr Bloom would be the exception.
- Yes, she would. Yes, she would.

She told me you mentored her
during her residency at Johns Hopkins.

I learned as much from her
as she did from me.

She also showed me your paper.

"Evolutionary..." uh...

"Evolutionary Origins
of Social Exclusion"?

- Yes.
- Very interesting.

Very interesting.
Even for a layman.

- A layman?
- Yeah.

So many learned fellows

in Behavioural Science at the FBI,
and you consider yourself a layman?

I do when I'm in your company, Doctor.

Um... I need you to help me
with a psychological profile.

Tell me, how many confessions?

Twelve dozen, last time I checked.
None of them had any details.

Until this morning,
and then they all had details.

Some genius in Duluth PD took
a photograph of Elise Nichols' body

with his cell phone,
shared it with his friends,

then Freddy Lounds posted it
on Tattlecrime.com.

Tasteless.

Do you have trouble
with taste?

My thoughts are often not tasty.

Nor mine.

- No effective barriers.
- I build forts.

- Associations come quickly.
- So do forts.

- Not fond of eye contact, are you?
- Eyes are distracting.

You see too much,
you don't see enough.

And it's hard to focus
when you're thinking,

"Oh, those whites are really white,"

or, "He must have hepatitis,"
or, "Oh, is that a burst vein?"

So, yeah, I try to avoid eyes
whenever possible. Jack?

Yes...

I imagine what you see and learn
touches everything else in your mind.

Your values and decency are present
yet shocked at your associations,

appalled at your dreams.

No forts in the bone arena
of your skull for things you love.

Whose profile are you working on?

Whose profile is he working on?

I'm sorry, Will.
Observing is what we do.

I can't shut mine off any more
than you can shut yours off.

Please, don't psychoanalyze me.

You won't like me
when I'm psychoanalyzed.

- Will...
- If you'll excuse me.

I have to go give a lecture
on psychoanalyzing.

Maybe we shouldn't poke him
like that, Doctor.

Perhaps a less, uh, direct approach.

What he has is pure empathy.

He can assume your point of view,

or mine, and maybe some other
points of view that scare him.

It's an uncomfortable gift, Jack.

Perception's a tool
that's pointed on both ends.

This cannibal you have him
getting to know...

...I think I can help
good Will see his face.

Stag head was reported
stolen last night a mile from here.

Just the head?

Minneapolis Homicide's
already made a statement.

- They're calling him the Minnesota Shrike.
- Like the bird?

Shrike's a perching bird.

Impales mice and lizards
on thorny branches and barbed wire.

Rips their organs
right out of their bodies,

puts them in a little birdie pantry
and eats them later.

I can't tell
whether it's sloppy or shrewd.

He wanted her found this way.

It's... it's petulant.

I almost feel
like he's mocking her.

Or... he's mocking us.

Where did all his love go?

Whoever tucked Elise Nichols into bed
didn't paint this picture.

He took her lungs. I'm pretty sure
she was alive when he cut 'em out.

Our cannibal loves women.

He doesn't want to destroy them,
he wants to consume them,

to keep some part of them inside.

This girl's killer thought
that she was a pig.

You think this was a copycat?

The cannibal who killed Elise Nichols
had a place to do it

and no interest in...
in field kabuki.

He has a house, or two,
or a cabin,

something with an antler room.

He has a daughter.
The same age as the other girls.

Same hair colour, same eye colour,
same height, same weight.

She's an only child.
She's leaving home.

He can't stand the thought
of losing her.

She's his golden ticket.

What about the copycat?

An intelligent psychopath, particularly
a sadist, is very hard to catch.

There's no traceable motive,
no patterns.

He may never kill this way again.

Have Dr Lecter draw up
a psychological profile.

You seemed very impressed
with his opinion.

Good morning, Will.
May I come in?

- Where's Crawford?
- Deposed in court.

The adventure will be
yours and mine today.

May I come in?

I'm very careful
about what I put into my body,

which means I end up
preparing most meals myself.

A little protein scramble
to start the day.

Some eggs, some sausage.

- Mm, it's delicious. Thank you.
- My pleasure.

I would apologize
for my analytical ambush,

but I know I'll soon be apologizing
and you'll tire of that eventually,

so I have to use apologies sparingly.

Just keep it professional.

Or we could socialize like adults.

God forbid we become friendly.

- I don't find you that interesting.
- You will.

Agent Crawford tells me
you have a knack for the monsters.

I don't think the Shrike
killed that girl in the field.

The devil is in the details.

What didn't your copycat do
to the girl in the field?

- What gave it away?
- Everything.

It's like he had to show me a negative
so that I could see the positive.

That crime scene was
practically gift-wrapped.

The mathematics of human behaviour,
all those ugly variables.

Some bad math
with this Shrike fellow, huh?

Are you reconstructing his fantasies?
What kind of problems does he have?

He has a few.

You ever have any problems, Will?

- No.
- Of course you don't.

You and I are just alike.

Problem-free. Nothing about us
to feel horrible about.

You know, Will...

I think Uncle Jack sees you
as a fragile little teacup.

The finest china,
used for only special guests.

How do you see me?

The mongoose I want under the house
when the snakes slither by.

Finish your breakfast.

What are you smiling at?

Peeking behind the curtain.

I'm just curious how
the FBI goes about its business

when it's not kicking in doors.

You're lucky we're not doing
house-to-house interviews.

We found a little piece of metal
in Elise Nichols' clothes,

a shred from a pipe threader.

There must be hundreds of
construction sites all over Minnesota.

A certain kind of metal, certain kind
of pipe, certain kind of pipe coating,

so we're checking all the construction
sites that use that kind of pipe.

What are we looking for?

At this stage, anything really.
But mostly, anything peculiar.

'Two fellas from the FBI.'

They goin' through the drawers now.
Mm-hm. Puttin' papers in file boxes.

Yes, they are takin' things.

No. Well, they didn't say...

Yes, they can.

What did you say your names were?

- Garrett Jacob Hobbs?
- He's one of our pipe threaders.

Those are all the resignation letters
the union requires when they finish a job.

I'll call you back.

- Does Mr. Hobbs have a daughter?
- Might have.

Eighteen or 19,
wind-chafed, plain but pretty.

She'd have auburn hair,
about this tall.

Maybe, I don't know. I don't keep
company with these people.

What is it about Garrett Jacob Hobbs
you find so peculiar?

He left a phone number, no address.

And therefore
he has something to hide?

The others all left addresses.
He also missed work for days at a time.

Do you have an address
for Mr. Hobbs?

I got it.

Hello?

Just a second. Dad, it's for you.

- Who is it?
- Caller ID said it was blocked.

Hello?

'Mr. Garrett Jacob Hobbs?'

Yeah.

You don't know me
and I suspect we'll never meet.

This is a courtesy call.
Listen very carefully.

Are you listening?

Yes.

They know.

Garrett Jacob Hobbs! FBI!

No, no, no.

See?

You see?

No, no, no.

Biting in lesser assaults
like bar fights, child abuse,

emergency room personnel
may be very helpful that way.

If they have memories of bad bites,
no matter who was bitten or...

Where's Graham?

You said he wouldn't get too close.

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