Original subtitles

Egg salad or tuna?

I already ate.

I thought you just came from work.

No, I work in a restaurant. They feed us after every shift.

Which restaurant?

You probably don't know. It's pretty far away.

Just like everything else, I don't know about you.

I think I will take that tuna sandwich.

Good.

So why don't they ever give you the day off? I'd like to see you in sunlight for

once. I'm doing a double shift. I need the money.

I'll tell your boss to give you a raise.

That'll get me fired.

Good. And then I'll have you off to myself.

You hear that?

Hey, Dr. Murdoch.

Sherry.

Well?

What's going on out here?

Oh, we're just having a picnic.

We? Yeah, I'm...

When

the great eclipse plunged the world into darkness, the vampire race erupted in a

civil war.

The bloodthirsty fury battled with the enlightened elders for domination of the

undead.

In desperation, the elders gathered up those young vampires that could be saved

and entrusted them to me.

To humanize them, to tame their instincts, and teach them how to live

mortal.

Of all human endeavors, creativity ranks the highest, for it brings life into

the world.

For

a vampire,

fostering creativity is especially important, since their basic impulse is

take life, not to give it.

A cold, pale moon on a starless night. Though I would despise you, my journey

needs this light.

Despise.

Sean? No.

Despise works.

That's odd.

The whole point of the exercise is to create something.

A song, a painting, a poem.

A pastry?

Trust me, when I am done with this pie, this pie will be a very special pie.

It will be called the pie of the blood gods. C 'est très cordon rouge.

Excuse me.

Taste?

Hey, Carl.

Carl? Yeah?

If I worked at a restaurant kind of far from here, where would that be?

I don't know.

Skippy's up in Dalesboro.

Hey, they've got an open mic there every Sunday. I could play while you served.

If you wish.

You're seeing her again, aren't you?

You talk.

Hey, watch out for Murdock. He's no idiot. He catches you. He won't.

Okay.

It's time to walk away.

Don't walk away.

Why'd you get those beads?

From that necklace you threw out?

Why?

You want it back?

No. How's lover boy?

His name's Drew.

Yeah? Drew what?

Just Drew.

You've been seeing this guy for how long? And you don't even know his last

What's the big deal?

In my books, no last name equals secrets.

In my books, you're just jealous.

Right.

You're driving blind, girl.

I bet you don't even have his phone number.

Face it.

You don't know this guy at all.

What's this?

Painter needs paints.

Give me one good reason why not.

I quit, that's why.

Drew, I've seen your sketches.

You're a real artist.

What?

Becoming a vampire changed all that.

The lack of sunlight.

The monochromatic life we lead, you know, devoid of any color.

You just need some inspiration.

Like what?

Like your last name.

French.

And then the kid?

French. Where do you live?

With my uncle.

Really? Uncle Carl.

Really? I'd love to meet him.

He's sick a lot.

Well, then how about a phone number?

What's with the third degree?

Sorry, I'm tired of the mystery.

There's nothing mysterious about how I feel.

I hardly know you.

And yet I know you so deeply.

You do?

And you know me.

That sketch you did, it captured my very soul.

Yes, from memory.

From a real gift.

Nice work, Drew.

You think?

It's good.

The whole painting seems to... crumble.

Crumble? Mm -hmm.

With life.

Thanks.

Okay, time for show and tell. Oh, wait, it's not finished.

What work of art ever is?

There you go. Good.

Can I have a peek?

Yeah.

Every time you walk away Every time you

walk away You break my heart And every time you

talk that way You make me want Make me

wanna There are only five things that kill vampires, Carl. Son, stakes.

Silver, decapitation, and country music.

You don't like country?

I hate country.

This is amazing.

You think so?

The star reminds me of... I can't think of his name.

I'll remember.

Who killed my plant?

Could it be lack of sunlight?

Yeah.

I'm a Victorian painter.

Very, very romantic.

Oh, it's on the tip of my tongue.

You think it's that good?

It's awesome.

It's yours.

You can become a collector.

Wow.

Then I'm commissioning you to do another.

This is serious.

It is.

I want you to paint me.

I don't think I can.

Oh, come on.

To be captured on canvas by the one you love.

What could be more romantic?

Will you pose nude?

Only if you paint nude.

What do you think of Drew's painting?

Crooked.

You actually see him paint this?

Trust me, he paints.

Like he works at Skippy's.

Yeah?

Wrong answer.

Called Skippy's. No Drew.

You called him at work? What are you, some kind of detective?

I look out for my friends.

That explains why you have so few.

I don't give much, but I give good advice.

Save it.

Trust me, he's hiding something big.

Looks like the master's getting ready to paint again.

You're right.

All I needed was inspiration.

And have you given proper thanks to that special person?

As a matter of fact, I'm going to paint her portrait.

Really?

When?

I'm meeting Sherry in the library in a few minutes.

Don't move.

Holding still is a lot harder than it looks.

I thought we were going to take a break and talk.

Let's talk.

Your uncle, what street does he live on?

I already told you, you can barely tolerate having me around, let alone my

friends. I don't want to visit him. I just want to know what street he lives

Lower.

What's his address?

Drew! What does it matter where I live?

We're here now.

Don't look at me. Keep your head down.

Chin down.

So, how's Skippy?

Fine.

Turn your head back.

I called them.

But they've never heard of you.

That's Dr. Mike.

Doesn't even know his own name half the time.

Good.

They've never heard of you.

You can't even look me in the eye, can you?

Go back. I'm not finished.

What did you do to her?

I was painting, that's all.

I'm getting Murdoch.

No. He finds out about this, he'll never see her again. She needs help.

No.

That's it.

That's the painter you reminded me of.

I would have been checked in.

What is this?

A dream?

Memory? I don't know.

Hold him back.

Let me in.

Talk to me.

I can't.

You have to.

For Sherry.

I am.

I was.

Him.

Edward Vincente.

Healing was my life.

Then I was made vampire.

Everything was different.

What happened that night?

My hand was flying.

Every stroke was perfect.

I was no longer good. I was brilliant.

This is going to be my masterpiece.

Suck the life from her and put it on my canvas.

I killed her.

Now I've done the same thing to Sharon.

Sharon.

Drew?

Drew?

Did you finish the painting?

No, who cares about the painting?

Did your model die before or after you finished the painting?

What did you do to me?

Sherry, are you okay?

Sherry. Don't touch me.

You lied to me.

I love you.

It's not a lie.

Sherry.

Sherry! Leave me alone.

Creativity gives life a song, a poem, a story, a painting.

Each form a portrait revealing who and what we are.

I've just had a conversation with one of my day students.

It seems she's suffering from something commonly known as a broken heart.

You lied to me.

You've crossed the line once again, Drew.

You violated a fundamental rule which is in place to protect us all.

I'm sorry. No.

That's not good enough.

You leave me no alternative.

At attention?

Since you are obviously not responding to the experiment, it is with...

It is with... the deepest regret that

I am recommending your immediate expulsion from Mansbridge Academy.

I will inform the elders.