Original subtitles

I'll tell you one more thing, by the grace of your daughters.

Open your eyes to your true glory, my lady.

Tell me how it will end.

If it will end in hell.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Constantine?

It promises the end of life as we know it.

If that's the case, you might want to ask yourself, is that really such a good

thing?

Good morning, Maria. Good morning.

You're very beautiful.

Do you know this?

I think so.

Could you be a sweet man and send a message to Mina?

Good.

Good.

No, it's a ninja.

Oh my god.

Listen to me.

What's your name?

Maria.

I'll help you, Maria.

Okay?

Don't move.

I have a message for you, Alison.

What? What is it?

I can't tell you now.

Did you see that, didn't you?

It's begun.

He's already made the first move.

You see how he took a life without even lifting a finger?

That's genius.

Vintage Satan.

It's all about keeping your hands clean.

That's why we're such a good match, Dylan.

I have to keep up appearances.

And you don't care how dirty you get.

Using the semi -auto this time, aren't you? Any objections?

I thought you said it had a nasty pull to the left.

I won't miss. Trust me. Good. Because this one's important.

They're all important, aren't they? No.

This one's more than usual.

Right. And remember, it has to be one clean shot to the head.

After all, she's not your average monkey.

Will be.

You've memorized her morning routine.

She wakes at 6 .45, puts on the coffee at 6 .50, and showers at 6 .53.

She soaps herself from the toes up.

It's a little strange, actually, because when you think about it, most people

lather from the neck down.

The man who relishes his work.

At 7 .10.

Coffee cup in hand.

She stands by her window and tops his breadcrumbs to the pigeons.

And cries over a little girl who never deserved to die.

One bullet.

I'm being a bit overconfident.

I told you.

I won't miss.

No.

No. You don't want to do that.

Eleven murders.

Suicide. Believe me, Dylan, you are holding a non -stop ticket to a place

definitely do not want to go.

I can hold some strings, Dylan.

Save you from a whole world of hurt.

All you have to do is this one last job.

Was it something I said?

Come back.

Remember. That.

Yeah. That's better.

Choke. Right.

Down.

Now you're going to do exactly what I tell you, Dylan.

You know why?

Because you just had a brief glimpse of the place you're headed, and it wasn't

pretty, was it?

Let's get down to business, shall we?

She'll be serving up soon.

the window.

Sit down.

Not there. There.

Hands on lap.

Whatever you're looking for, you won't find it if I'm dead.

I work for a boss who prefers to extract secrets from corpses.

They tend not to lie so much.

This is how it works, Allison.

I'm here to kill you. It's that simple.

Now, I don't know what you're hiding or why.

I never do.

This is purely a job, an assignment. Understand?

Understand?

Yes.

Not that it ever mattered before, but it does.

Somehow it does. It does matter.

And I don't know why.

It comes down to this.

I need you to tell me why you're meant to live.

And I need to know right now.

You can't ask me to justify my life to you.

It's a life that should be enough.

It's not enough!

Understand? It's not enough.

Not if you know.

Waiting for me on the other side.

On the other side.

I've been entrusted with something.

What?

It's a responsibility.

And that's all I can tell you.

Get up.

Where are we going?

Who hired him?

He calls himself Dark.

Something tells me that's not his real name.

Man or angel?

Man or angel?

Get it.

Who does he work for?

I'm not sure.

Not too choosy about your employers.

I didn't apply for the job.

Where is it, Allison?

Take it out on me just because you finally had a fit of conscience.

We don't have time to play nice.

I didn't. I just need a few things. What are you doing here?

Ian, I'm talking to you.

What are you doing here?

The blonde wig. The blonde wig. Where is it?

Still waiting on the week. Waiting on the week?

This? Make you happy?

Are you happy?

Happy's got nothing to do with it.

Nothing. And who's your new car?

Allison Gabrielle. Gabriella.

Hi.

Listen here.

You're a real farmer.

And who are they?

Thrones.

How do you know?

You still have your gun, right?

Even if I got lucky with a kill shot, there'd be a dozen more on us in

What's the kill shot on an agent? Right through the third eye.

Third eye?

The one you used to see God.

I can't tell.

Go this way.

What do we do now?

Change.

First, put on lots of perfume. As much as you can stand.

And take at least ten of these pills.

Why? They hunt by taste and smell. The pills are iron. They'll change the taste

of your blood.

And the perfume?

Well, it's definitely not you.

You think they could be fooled this easily?

To them, we're all monkeys.

We all look alike.

What about the thrones?

Do they work for Stark?

Yep.

Guess I'm a little rusty on my celestial hierarchy.

Your thrones and powers.

They're heaven's grunts. They flow with it, totally lacking free will. Not a big

threat if you come in first.

Okay. Same goes for your dominions and virtues.

But the cherubs, don't let that Hallmark shit fool you. They'll rip your heart

out first and bless you later.

Now your Ark and Seraphs.

They're the real deal.

They claim to take their orders straight from the top.

Dark?

Seraph, all the way.

Now what?

This is where we part.

What are you going to do?

I'm going to try and mix it up a little.

You're going to try to fight an angel?

Read your Bible. Jacob rested an angel for one whole night.

I said it for a good 20 seconds.

20 seconds?

That's your head start.

Now get going.

That way.

Hey.

What's your name?

Dylan.

It's a book, Dylan.

Very special book.

It better be.

Stark wants to see you.

And to go.

Oh!

Have a

nice

day.

I blame myself.

Because I never told you why this job is so important.

So... Let me put this in terms that a monkey can understand.

The girl that you saved is going to trigger a genocide the likes of which a

world has never seen. And that, my friend, is going to cause devastating

consequences.

Wait a minute,

okay?

Hello? It's Allison.

I need to talk to you.

I know you're here.

You look remarkably stylish, remarked woman.

How are we sleeping?

Sleep's not real big on my to -do list right now.

Demagogues, martyrs, schizophrenics.

They all tend to run toward insomnia.

Tell me then, what do you want?

I want to know who's after me and why.

You'd ask the devil himself to explain the politics of heaven.

Who better?

You have in your possession a book.

It will not only foretell the coming of the Antichrist, but in a matter of hours

it will identify him by name.

Now that, Alison, makes you the courier of a weapon of mass destruction every

bit as devastating as any.

nuclear bomb.

And just as your world governments fear a nuclear device falling into the hands

of savages, so there are powerful interests in heaven who regard you and

book with the same concern.

The politics of angels, you see, are not so very different from those of men.

Both have rules to follow, codes of conduct, laws.

Both, for example, have constraints regarding murder and ways to get around

those constraints.

How does that happen?

But it would seem the preferred option is no longer in play.

You have, in the parlance of the CIA, turned their chief asset.

Your new friend.

Dylan.

So our angel, whosoever he is...

Has no choice but to perform this sordid task himself.

Go to ground, so to speak.

I have a weakness for these things.

Maybe it's the angel food cake.

God forbid.

I need you to help me.

Are you sure?

You helped me the last time.

I protected you from one of my own for my own reasons.

That's all.

I thought... Word of advice.

Don't ever assume you know my motives.

Ever.

Alison.

Did you know that revelation and apocalypse are the same word in ancient

Good.

God of the spirits, you are the whole body, which you have laid on the dead,

on the devil you have hanged, and you have given your life to the world.

In you, Lord, as a good and loving God of people,

forgive her.

For there is no man who does not make mistakes, only

you alone.

i have a message for you

Because she's in a place where violence would be a favorite.

Now, if your stomach should fail you again, simply escort her off the church

grounds and we'll handle the rest.

Why me?

Is anybody here?

Who's there?

Your hand.

It's so cold.

How'd you find me, Dylan?

They told me you were here.

They want me.

Glad we got that out of the way.

I was surprised to hear you mention the Bible back there.

When?

When you were talking about Jacob fighting the angel.

I'm no expert, but I guess you don't find too many hitmen quoting scripture.

I wasn't always a hitman.

I was a grad student in theology.

University of Chicago.

Three months from a Ph .D.

You studied theology?

Do you even know whose side you're on?

Or if what you're doing is right.

I mean, I think this is where faith comes in.

I have a book that alleges to be the word of God.

And I've been chosen to protect it.

Do I really have to know why?

I think you always need to know why.

No matter who is doing the asking.

Then aren't we safer in here?

By morning, there'll be hundreds.

Just how long do you plan to hold out?

Centuries?

How do we get past them?

My car's just outside the gate.

When you hear it start up, come running.

But...

I thought you might like a sneak preview before you take up permanent residence.

Don't forget, I'm an angel, Allison.

A seraphim.

I'm on your side.

Come on.

Tell me Armageddon isn't just about the worst idea God ever came up with.

All that death and damnation because of one little antichrist.

Even your friend Dylan finally came around to... reason.

All I want is the last page of the lexicon.

Why do you want it so badly?

Because in three hours' time, the name of the child who will trigger Armageddon

will be revealed.

We can stop that from coming to pass.

Stop?

As in kill?

One child's life.

versus billions.

You do the math.

Hey.

You got some kind of stuff dripping there.

No, it's not.

You know what I think, Stark?

I think you've got a problem.

You know what it is?

You hate the fact that your boss put me up to this.

You'd love to kill me. You'd really get off on ripping me apart.

But you're afraid.

Afraid?

Afraid to have my blood on your hands.

Oh, it's one thing to let one of your human lackeys do it.

Plenty of deniability there, right?

Someone of your stature.

A therapist.

God's right hand?

I mean, how's that going to look at the next board meeting?

I

don't

have to kill you like that.

I could whisper a simple suggestion.

Because you can't.

Because there's something different about me, isn't there?

Something that you can't have.

A crazy dream.

Any minute you're going to wake up, Allison.

You're going to wake up and the whole thing's going to be over.

Careful, Allison.

People might think you're crazy.

I love this park.

Perverts and lunatics everywhere.

I'm like a kid in a candy store.

Something tells me you're not out here trolling for new recruits.

Who knows?

Maybe I'm trolling for you.

I trust you got my message.

The one from the little girl.

You didn't have to kill her.

She was going to die anyway.

Eventually.

I need to know whose side I'm on.

I would think a person of faith never had to ask that question. I'm asking

You're a Jesuit scholar.

And so close to your doctorate, too.

Let's see if it's all been worth the effort.

What was the title of your dissertation again?

The Rule of Warfare in Modern Religion.

Ah, a subject very dear to my heart.

So, let's go straight to a personal favorite.

Armageddon.

Doomsday, as you call it. Stark wants to prevent it. Yes, but why?

I'm asking myself the same question.

Think.

What follows Armageddon?

The restoration of the faithful to God's side.

So why would certain angels not want to see that happen?

Oh, come on, Allison.

God gave you the gift of reason.

Use it.

Jealousy.

Of whom?

Jealousy of those humans who survive Armageddon.

Jealous that they'll be the chosen ones. The ones to restore humanity. The ones

most loved by God.

Loved even more than the angels themselves.

So Stark's not interested in saving the lives of billions of people. He just

wants us all... Doing what you do best.

Degrading yourselves in the eyes of your lord.

So that just leaves you, doesn't it?

What's your agenda?

Oh, I think you know what I want.

Of course.

You want Armageddon. You get to snatch up whoever doesn't make the final cut.

A billion corrupt new souls dancing on my doorstep.

Hell looks to be a very busy place in the next few years.

So by protecting the lexicon, I'm doing the devil's work.

Aren't I?

Sometimes the interests of heaven and hell are not so very different, Allison.

Get used to it.

I'm still on my lunch break.

What's last? How long, precisely?

A couple of days.

Or until I fall apart, whichever comes first.

The girl has proven to be more difficultly cracked than I anticipated.

Sweatner didn't do the trick, though.

What a surprise.

You know, I need one small favor from you, and then you can go ahead and take

that nice long dirt nap that you've been vying for.

What do you want from me, Stark, huh?

I just fucking betrayed her for you.

But you love that, don't you?

Watching what we do to each other.

So anyway, you can still feel superior, isn't it?

Shit, don't even make me drunk anymore.

Think back.

You watched her get up, shower, feed the pigeons.

Then what?

I don't know. She'd leave for an hour or two, usually around noon. Go where?

Park. Which one?

Specifically. Does it matter?

Yeah, a dog never wanders far and we're buried in the bone.

Same with people.

She'd check her hiding spot daily to make sure it's still secure.

You're one of them.

You're not true.

You try to leave no feeling in your fingertips.

I don't do grunt work.

shall become known his name is mikhail and he shall

bear four distinct forms

You can't hide from me, Ellen.

Just the last page, Allison.

That's all I want.

He's here, you know.

The child that will one day destroy your world.

It's right here, in this city.

We are so close.

All we need is the book to find out who he is, and this can all be over.

It's about time, Dylan.

Dylan, what did he do to you?

It's what he did to himself.

Do you still wonder, Allison, why you were chosen and for what purpose?

I mean, taking your cues from Satan, that's a bit risky, isn't it?

Come on over here, Dylan.

You might find it interesting.

Here we have this.

delicate young thing who for some inexplicable reason seems to have a very

time dying.

Look at yourself, Alison.

Don't you find it a wee bit odd that you're still standing after all you've

through?

You are familiar with the term Nephilim.

No.

I can't.

Child.

Born of an angel and a woman.

Half of each, but belonging to neither.

It's an incredibly lonely existence, isn't it, Allison?

You're lying.

You were sired by an angel named Simon.

You believe that you'd make an ideal guardian of the book.

I don't believe you.

Think about it.

The resilience of an angel and the resourcefulness of a monkey.

You know, I have to admit, there is a perverse logic to it.

You were bred as a tool of certain partisan interest in heaven.

Nothing more, Allison.

Just a tool.

You know when I told you to shoot her in the head, Dylan?

I had my reasons.

It's the only way she can die. Short of ripping out a heart of corn.

That would be messy.

So go ahead.

Do the honors.

Go ahead.

And then it's done.

You're off the hook.

Finito.

Promise?

You have my word on it.

Swear to God.

Don't do it.

Whatever he's told you is a lie.

He doesn't call the shots.

And what about you?

Are you a lie, Nephilim?

Hmm?

Look inside that shapeless thing that you call a soul and show us the truth.

Please.

Come on, Dylan.

You save a few billion lives and you spare yourself the fiery depths of hell.

you act right now, I'll even throw in a nice shiny gold bear badge.

Now, what's not to like here?

You defied him once, Dylan.

There must have been a reason.

Right.

You're going to shoot me now.

Human sentiment.

That's really precious. That's really, really precious, Dylan. We have to

protect the book.

It's ours to protect.

We just have to believe, Dylan.

It's not up to us to second -guess God.

All we have to do is believe.

That's it.

Shoot the girl and take the book.

Shoot the girl and take the book.

Shoot the girl and take the book!

How much simpler do I have to make it?

All right.

I get it.

One easy shot.

And to think of all the good times I'll be missing.