Original subtitles

( Man ) 1-0-1, bravo lima,

Come in, over.

1-0-1, Bravo lima,

I can't have you sitting in the middle of my runway, host

Respond, over.

This is Buck Kendall trying you again.

1-0-1, Bravo lima,

You gotta move it, and I mean now, not later.

Why do all the weird ones have to fly at night?

Okay.

You don't wanna move...

I'll move you myself.

Okay, host, let's roll it off on the grass.

Curtains?

Hey, hey,hey, buddy !

Buddy!

You in there, friend?

Good lord!

What happened in here?

Oh, Jesus...

Save me.

Now...now, Ma'am, when these aliens were examining you,

Was there any penetration involved?

A 14-year-old tennis star

shouldn't be shootin' up on heroin anyway!

It'll mess up her backhand!

Hey look...Frontal nudity, backal nudity, side-al nudity,

He's famous enough, we'll print whatever you got.

You're damn right, what time?

( woman ) Tattoo? Yeah, he do - Was he naked?.

Let me see that.

Hey!

Give that back!

Where's my picture?

Where's my goddamn dead baby?!

I told you before, Libby, do not fuck with my stuff.

And I told you before, Dees, don't fuck with me.

Morrison cut your goddamn dead baby.

You got a problem with that, hotshot,

Take it up with him.

( man ) Let me tell you what "Inside View" is, Ms Blair...

it's a microscope...

A cultural microscope

focusing in on the collective unconscious

of the american populace.

Now what we do here at "Inside View", Katherine,

is identify and define the cultural archetype

of the american mind.

Now, read that list back to me,

the stories I want you looking for.

Umm... Alien abductions...

Amusing animal stories...

Attacks on the handicapped.

Only if it has a twist, some kind of kinky sex in there or something.

Battered wives...

Bizarre body functions...

Breast surgery, horror stories.

That's always good.

"C", celebrities...addicted, perverted,

Dying, dead.

And of course back from the dead.

Demonic possession...

Listen Merton, just because you don't have any balls

doesn't mean you can cut mine off.

'Morning, Richard.

Do you know what I had to do with that morgue attendant to get that picture?

Do you have any idea how cold those labs are?

Katherine, this emotionally unstable individual

is Richard Dees, our senior reporter.

Katherine Blair.

It's very nice to meet you.

Did he spout off about that

collective unconsciousness crap yet?

Katherine, we'll finish this later.

Sure, no problem.

Thank you, Mr. Morrison, for everything.

I won't let you down.

Welcome to "Inside View", Katherine.

Thanks.

It was nice meeting you.

What about my picture?

Dees, we all love your pictures,

But in the future, just as a rough guideline,

let's keep the victims over two years old, ok?

Now sit down, please, I gotta show you something.

Sorry, Mr. Morrison,

I forgot my purse.

Thank you.

So what do you think of Katherine?

Another Jimmy Olsen.

She doesn't have much experience

but she's sharp, good instincts,

great ass.

Did you happen to mention to her

why the position opened up?

Of course I didn't, I wanted to hire her, not scare her away.

There's no reason she needs to know anything about Dottie.

Anyway, look, here's your next assignment.

I thought I was doing Nina Briggs.

She's down to 75 pounds, she won't be around for long.

She can stay or go,

Who cares? A country star with aids?

That's way too soft a story for you.

Besides, this is much more up your alley.

This is gonna be a big one, Richard, really big.

A lot of people are gonna wanna read about this guy.

There's nothing here.

A man... No,

a man who thinks he's more than a man.

Flies into desolate airports in the middle of the night,

and kills whatever poor schmuck happens to be around...

Drains the body of the blood.

Then he flies away again in search of his next unsuspecting victim.

And he calls himself Dwight Renfield.

Dwight just happens to be the first name of an actor

named Dwight Fry, who played the role of Renfield,

the bug eating lunatic in the 1931 version of "Dracula".

C'mon, Richard, that's not a story?!

The guy's a movie fan, so what?

Vampires are a dime a dozen in the tabs.

Next time this psycho goes out they're gonna nail him.

Yeah, why is that?

They've got the make of his plane and the tail number.

Now, if you wanted to rob banks,

would you do it with the same car with the same license plate every single time?

No one's caught him yet.

Look, put that pilot license and plane of yours to some use.

Besides, you're good with the hicks, you're the best.

Thank you.

You need this one, Richard, take my word on it.

Your work has been a little lacking lately.

You haven't hit the front pages in months,

And this is front page material!

This is a waste of space, is what it is.

It's a waste of my time.

I'll still gonna run it, you know, with or without you!

and it's gonna be a screamer, guarantee it!

Why don't you give it to Jimmy?

Something nice and juicy for her to sink her teeth into.

Fucking prick!

"Lacking" my ass.

( Richard ) Oh,shit!

Hi, Mr. Dees.

Hi.

I'm Katherine Blair,

we met this morning in Mr. Morrison's office.

You remember me?

I remember you, Jimmy.

"Jimmy".

As in "Olsen".

You mind if I join you?

Do I have a choice?

No.

So...

What an exciting first day this turned out to be.

I already got my first assignment,

a piece about a psycho pilot

who thinks he's a vampire.

Yeah, I know, I already pissed on it--

I passed on it.

Why are you here, Jimmy?

I doubt you followed me all this way just to shoot this shit.

I didn't follow you.

I was just--

It doesn't matter.

You're here now, what do you want?

Well, okay...

I guess I was hoping

that you could give me the inside view of "Inside View".

Who better to learn from than the paper's star reporter?

Maybe you could share your philosophy with me.

My "philosophy"?

Your secret, for staying on top so long.

I'd love to hear it.

That is, if you have one.

Uh...

Okay.

Here it is, you better take notes...

Never believe what you publish...

and never publish what you believe.

What's the matter, I talk too fast?

I guess I was just expecting

something more.

from someone who thinks of himself as a--

As a what?

Well...

A real reporter.

Ha!

Ha-ha!

Let me ask you a question.

What the fuck do you think you know about being a real reporter?

Goddamnit!

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.

Why don't we start over?

Why? I already know your story, honey, I heard it a million times.

You come from Lockport or Rockport,

or Bridgeport, or Eugene, Oregon,

or some goddamn place.

You tried to get into Columbia or Yale,

But you ended up at Illinois State, didn't you?

Then you interned for

"The Examiner" or "The Patriot".

Help me here, please.

"The Herald"

Exactly, that's right, you covered everything from cake sales, to dog shows, to class reunions.

but that got a little mundane for you, didn't it?

So you came to us for just a little more spice.

Of course the money, stop me if I'm wrong here.

What are you getting at, Mr. Dees?

You've been here before, Jimmy,

and you'll be here again.

See, the faces change but the end is always the same.

You won't last.

Maybe I'll surprise you.

Maybe you will.

Maybe you'll stick around for a while...

end up just like Dottie.

What are you talking about?

You want my inside view of "Inside View"?

Alright, I'll give it to ya.

And it ain't about no fucking philosophy, honey, believe me.

"Inside View" is an illustration of the insane.

It's a diary of the deranged and dangerously sick...

I'm talking about kindergarten teachers setting fire to their students

because they think these 5-year-olds

are plotting their executions.

Satanic biker cults slaughtering hitchhikers,

but, here's the fun part...

after talking to these crazy people

all day, every single day,

sometimes their stories can get to you.

Creeping like some kind of a fucking cancer

and pretty soon all the shit starts making sense.

That's what happened to Dottie Walsh.

Real go-getter, just like you.

She started to believe in the unbelievable.

Not more than a year after Dottie was hired...

she was dead.

Went home one night and took a bath

with a dry cleaning bag wrapped around her head.

Bye, bye, Dottie...

Hello, Jimmy.

Made for a killer headline, though.

I'm sorry I bothered you.

That's okay.

I thought maybe we could be friends, but--

Yeah, well.

I guess I was wrong.

Jimmy...

Listen to me now, I don't have friends.

I've got my camera, my plane and my stories,

That's all I want and that's all I need.

So, if you want a friend,

buy a dog.

No hard feelings.

( man ) Help me!

Help me, help me!

Help me!

( man ) Help me, help me!

Alright, Morrison, what's so goddamn important?

Our batty friend...

has struck again.

Is that so?

Last night, Duffrey, Maryland.

A little pessant town 60 miles outside of Washington.

Got clean away, too.

You shouldn't let it bother you, Richard.

After all this is a youngman's business...

or... young woman's.

That's right, Katherine found it.

Somehow she tapped into a network

of local law enforcement agencies

what that computer of hers...

searched through 100 murder wires

to find one that fit our bad boy's M.O.,

had the information, waiting for me, on my desk, as soon as I walked

in the door. Now... that is ambition!

Give me the file.

What do you want me to say, that I was wrong?

Just that you might've been wrong?

You know what a pussycat I am.

Okay, I might've been wrong, you happy now?

How very large-hearted of you to admit it.

First this guy Claire Bowie up in Maine,

then Buck Kendall in New York.

And now Ray and Ellen Sarch in Maryland.

There's definitely a story here that needs to be told.

And I think I hear Dwight calling your name Richard.

Anybody from the straight press pick up on this yet?

If you're asking if anyone's suggesting

there's a serial killer flying around out there, the answer's no.

But the FAA and cops are trying to keep this hush-hush, it won't be long

Here they are, Mr. Morrison.

We need to know which one to run,

we go to press in 20 minutes.

What's that?

uh... it's tomorrow's edition...

If you want it to be, that is.

So...

What's it gonna be?

You son-of-a-bitch.

Is that a yes?

Run it.

What's that, plan "B", as in Blair ?

Not important.

So, I wanna run this guy's back trail

starting with the first murder we know about,

Bowie up in Maine, right ?

What about your Nina Briggs story?

Fuck Nina Briggs.

Not me!

Oh, there is one small problem, Richard.

Katherine, I'm afraid I have some bad news.

The story is mine, Mr. Morrison, you gave it tome.

Well, looks like he's taking it back.

Katherine, I apologize about this, but Dees is back on the story.

Now give him your files, if you would.

Mr. Morrison, if I could just--

Please, I made my decision, just do it.

Thank you, dear.

And I suppose you want this too?

I have my own plane, thanks.

How you doing, friend ?

Don't believe I know you, mister.

My name's Richard Dees, I'm a reporter.

I was wondering if I can talk to you for a minute.

Ezra Hannon.

I fix things around here, work the planes.

What paper you say you're from?

"Inside View", you know it?

Oh, yeah.

My wife Martha reads your paper.

After she's done with it I use it

to line our kitty's toilet box.

Soaks up that cat piss real good.

Then you won't mind answering a few questions.

You wanna talk to me about the killing

of my friend Claire Bowie, don't you?

How did you know that?

Ain't no other reason city folks visit these paths,

except something bad happens, and this was...

real bad.

But I gotta tell you,

I already told everything I know to the police.

But, see, I'm not the police.

This'll only take a few minutes, so...

if you don't mind...

I suppose it'll be alright.

Speak loud and clearly and you tell me what happened

the night that Claire was murdered.

It all began the night before Claire was murdered.

The night that bastard flew in here.

That plane was a black Cessna sky master, right?

3-3-7, with red piping,

tail number 1-0-1, Bravo lima?

It was one of them sky masters alright.

At least I think it was.

I can't say as I remember the tail number...

Because I don't.

Ain't that the damndest thing?

Doesn't matter.

Doesn't matter at all, you just go on ahead now.

The night shift belonged to Claire.

Quiet most time, but not that night.

No, sir...

not that night.

( Ezra ) My shift was over

and I was loading up to head home...

that's when he came down.

Let me tell you, Mister...

right from the get-go

that fella didn't seem proper.

Just sorta off.

( Richard ) Why was that?

( Ezra ) He was wearing a big cloak.

He was.

Red as a fire engine inside,

black as a woodchuck's asshole outside.

and when it spread out behind him,

it looked like a goddamn bat's wing, it did.

Come to work about 7:00 that next morning,

headed to chat with Claire before he went home,

like I always did.

'Morning!

Claire?!

( Ezra ) But I gotta tell ya...

Claire seemed a bit odd that day...

not quite himself.

This some sort of new service, Claire?

Claire?

Just doing my part is all.

Saw you had a night flier last night.

This him?

Yeah.

Dwight Renfield...

flew in from Derry.

Nice fella...

different...

Said he was leaving tonight.

said he'd stop back to say goodbye.

( Ezra ) Looked like he came back alright.

Can't imagine it being anyone else.

Came back and ripped my friend's throat

clean out from his neck...

and left him dead as dirt in winter.

Ugly way to die...

So the plane was there the whole day?

Yeah.

Did Claire happen to mention calling a cab

for the pilot to take to a motel?

There doesn't seem to be any with an easy walking distance.

No, I don't remember Claire saying a word

about calling a fella a cab.

What about a limo?

Didn't say nothin' about no limo neither,

and he would've mentioned that.

Check taxi, limousine services.

Seen one more thing, too.

Might not mean nothing,

but then again it might.

Struck me peculiar.

So give...

Seen something strange under that plane.

I did.

Tell me.

Big pile of dirt

Right under the luggage bay it was...

nasty stuff,

like where something had died.

You're going after him,

ain't you?

You best be careful.

This fella who killed old Claire,

he ain't no man.

Thanks for your input.

Not scary enough, Claire.

What the hell are you doing here, mister?

You scared the shit out of me, buddy!

You do this to Claire?

No, I didn't,

but I think the guy who did just ran that way.

I don't know who you are or what you want.

We respect the dead around here, mister.

Now, I suggest you do the same.

You might be joining ol' Claire sooner than you think.

Really.

Thanks for the advice, tiger.

You're a real credit to humanity.

You'll get yours, you son-of-a-bitch!

I already got it.

I really gotta drink some more of that shit.

Must've been that kid from the cemetery

and his boozed up buddies

exercising their first amendment rights

on my motel room window, fucking hicks.

It's gonna take a lot more than that to scare me off.

Anyway, I checked out Ezra Hannon's story with the police,

They basically backed up everything the old gin-head had to say.

Then I called the Derry airport

where this nut-bar supposedly flew out

and they never heard of a Dwight Renfield

or a black sky master with that tail number.

So where the hell did he come from?

And why didn't Claire question his missing flight plan?

These little hick airfields are always used by drug runners

to transport their shit.

If the FAA found out that Claire Bowie

let Mr. Renfield in so easily

they'd shut him down faster than you can say

"Bum-fuck county. Maine".

I guess Claire doesn't have to worry about that now.

Alderton, New York is next.

See what other mischief our caped crusader

got himself into.

You may not know it yet, Dwight,

but you're gonna be my one way ticket back to the front page.

( Man ) You're a very generous man, Mr. Dees.

( Richard ) Only when I have to be.

Must've been a mighty man, got Buck Kendall.

Guy must've got him from behind,

that's the only way I can figure it.

Why do you say that?

Well, ol' Buck weighed around 220.

An easy man most of the time,

God-fearing christian.

But if you did get him riled he made you sorry.

You got here right in time.

I was just about to sew him up.

Damn that glue!

I hope that doesn't happen during the wake.

Is this what you wanted to see?

No.

That is.

( Ezra on tape ) And he kept on washing that damn plane.

So I said,

saw you had a night flier last night. This him?

So I said,

saw you had a night flier.

Night flier.

"Night Flier".

Sweet.

( Man ) Yes, Merton.

It's Dees.

Where are you, Richard?

Alderton, New York.

Oh... Buck Kendall territory. -Yeah...

Got my picture of the Night Flier's second victim,

Up close, personal and dead.

Don't worry, he's off age, I checked his ID

We're callin' him the "Night Flier" now, not bad.

Mr. Renfield is not your typical count.

How's that?

There were two big wounds on Buck Kendall's neck.

I'm not talking little Bela Lugosi bite marks,

I'm talking about massive holes.

This guy's either got teeth the size of Big Foot

or he's running railroad spikes into their necks.

This is great shit!

I mean, the fatties in the supermarket lines

are gonna love this guy!

God, I hope he kills more people!

Fax me your copy, send the pictures! Let's get going on this!

Keep it in your pants, it's not ready yet.

It's gonna get bigger.

It's gonna get weirder, I can fell it.

Send me whatever the hell you got there!

We already ran the tease on this, you know that!

Goddamit, it's not gonna be ready for next week,

You got that?

You'll get your story when

I decide it's time to give it to you.

In the meantime stay the fuck out of my face.

I'm flying out of Duffrey tomorrow.

I'll call you when I think I have something.

Idiot.

Working late, Kath?

Just trying to hit that deadline, boss.

The psychic dogs of the stars piece is really tough.

We're calling him the Night Flier now, by the way.

I'm sorry, Mr. Morrison,

I just couldn't let it go.

I'm not asking you to.

But I'll tell you something: you're not gonna find all the answers

in this electronic box of yours.

They're out there.

Do you want this story back, Katherine?

You know I do.

Then tape that ticket of yours back together.

Dees does not run this paper, I do.

Bring me the Night Flier and the byline's yours.

But I'll tell ya something,

if you wanna beat Dees,

you gotta play the game like Dees.

Yes.

Shit!

Looks like bonus day.

Move it along, pal.

We got enough problems here.

I said move it along, buddy.

Get your hands off me, pal.

I'm the fucking press!

Just don't get in the way, alright?

Buck Kendall was a one night stand for you.

You flew in shortly after 12:00 on the 23rd,

spiked ol' Buck dead

and took off again into the unfriendly skies.

That's not the norm for you, is it, pal?

You like to linger.

Why?

Maybe most times you wait around until you're really hungry

but poor ol' Buck was a midnight snack.

You been getting under my skin, fella.

Doesn't look like this story's about to let me go,

that's okay, 'cause I'm not letting go either.

It's funny, when you give blood...

the most you can expect is a cup of orange juice,

but when you take blood,

you get headlines.

Sick fucker.

Fill it up?

High-test, if you please.

Listen pal, I'm looking for the Duffrey airport.

Can you tell me how to get there?

Sure I could.

Ain't gonna do you no good, the place is closed up.

Yeah, I know, I tried to land there this morning,

had to land in Washington National instead.

Then you must know about the Sarches.

That's why I'm here.

Tryin' to find out more about what happened.

You a cop or something?

Something like that.

So you knew the Sarches?

Hell, yeah, I knew 'em.

Actually saw Ray and his wife the day they were murdered.

They stopped in here on the way home that afternoon.

I could tell right away there was something wrong with them.

What do you mean?

Well, Ray looked all... tired and pale

like he was sick or something.

but, Ellen, she was looking fine.

I almost didn't recognize her.

Let's go, Ray.

Honey.

He's waiting for us.

Selida done Ellen up real good.

Who?

Selida McCamon.

She works over in town at the beauty bar.

That's somebody you should be talking to.

She been passing along some mighty strange stories she has.

( Richard ) Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?

Just the fact that Ellen's visits

were usually as regular as clockwork.

and this time she came in at least two weeks early.

Now, that might not mean anything to you,

but for Ellen Sarch to break a routine

she'd been following for the last 20 years,

it was downright odd.

How did Ellen seem to you?

Dreamy somehow.

Like a schoolgirl with a crush.

62 years old or not,

her color was so high I thought it was makeup.

Will it be the usual, El?

No.

Something different this time.

A perm, I think.

and maybe...

a little bit of color too.

And as I worked on her,

Ellen told me about that pilot who flew in the night before.

I knew they'd never met him.

By the way she was talking

it was like he was a long lost friend.

Ray and Ellen welcomed him with open arms into their home.

They even had dinner,

actually watched a little television.

The next morning Ellen came to see me.

She wanted to look sensuous.

She wanted to look beautiful.

She wanted to look young.

Selida, could you look this way, please?

Thanks, hon.

( cop ) When you FBI boys find this son-of-a-bitch

give him a swift kick in the teeth for me.

Ray and Ellen were good people.

Tell me about the murders.

Tell me about what you found at the trailer.

Nothin' looked out of the ordinary at first...

'Till we stepped inside...

( cop ) Right away we knew something was wrong.

It was the smell...

We found Ray first,

sprawled out at our feet...

hardly any blood on him at all...

Something else was missing too...

( Richard ) What's that?

( cop ) His head.

It was sitting over in the far corner of the room,

Staring toward the open doorway.

As if there were actually something to see.

Never seen nothing like that in my life.

An FAA warning for this guy was posted there on the wall.

and he was there all night, and all the next day,

and still they didn't blow the whistle on him.

It just makes no sense...

Poor Ellen...

I can still see her now.

She was lying there pale as snow.

Every drop of her blood gone too.

But goddamn if she didn't look at peace.

Almost happy, like it was what she wanted.

( Richard ) Were there any strange puncture marks on their bodies?

Holes?

( cop ) oh, there were holes all right.

Holes big enough you could siphon from.

Which is what we figured he did.

How he didn't splash blood all over the room

is anybody's guess.

What kind of fucking game is this animal playing?

I wish somebody would tell me that.

Nice puppy.

That's a good boy.

I don't fucking believe this shit.

( Richard ) The blood stops here, Merton,

until Dwight spikes again, the trail's cold.

( Morrison ) Anything new in Duffrey?

Richard, you still there?

No, it's more of the same... I'll tell you something though,

This maniac definitely has an influence over these people.

A lot of serial killers can charm their victims,

but this guy's got the spades.

Did you pack your garlic?

Yeah, right next to my crucifix.

It's time to hit the phones, I need to find that goddam plane.

If anything comes over the wires give me a call.

I'm staying at the Falling Star motel.

You got it.

When hell freezes over.

Sorry to keep you holding, Katherine, what were you saying?

(Katherine) I just don't feel too comfortable bribing police officers, Mr. Morrison.

It just takes a little practice, you'll get the hang of it.

Yeah, I guess so.

Hey, listen, where are you staying in case I need to get a hold of you?

The Falling Star motel, room 134.

Yeah?

I hear it's a pretty nice place.

Good luck, Katherine.

Thanks.

God, I love this job.

Excuse me.

Hard day?

Hard life.

You're next, Dwight.

What's this shit?

Your friend at the end of the bar ordered it for you.

That's funny.

He... he was just there a second ago!

What did he look like?

Couldn't tell, he was like all

dressed up for Halloween or something!

What'd he say?!

Just to bring you the drink, that's all

Where'd he go?!

I don't know!

Mister, back off!

Fuck you, Dwight!

I'm not stopping, fuck you!

Oh, my god.

Dees.

What the fuck are you doing here?

Taking back my story.

Morrison put you up to this?

I don't see what that has to do with anything.

You know, he sent you down here to piss me off.

He's just fuckin' with ya.

I don't believe you.

I don't give a fuck what you believe!

Go on home before you really make me mad.

I don't need some bitch cub reporter screwing up my leads.

I don't need your leads, Dees, I have my own.

Is that right?

Mm-hmm.

I have a complete set of police reports from the Cumberland County's

sheriff's department.

I tracked down a very cooperative clerk

from the FAA offices in Washington...

And I have all three sets of autopsy photos!

Like I said, I'm taking this story home.

No... you're just playing catch-up.

What are you gonna do next?

I have my ideas.

Where you going?

Just wait, we're talking here...

Jimmy, why don't we cut this competition bullshit?

You want me to tell you the truth?

I'm dry.

So are you, right?

I tell you something, Dwight was here, he just left.

He's flying right this minute,

He's gonna have to come down sooner or later.

He's been very lucky three times already.

How many more times you think that's gonna happen

before this story breaks wide open

and we lose him for good?

Yeah, so, what's your point?

My point is this...

we gotta get a lead on this guy and we gotta get one

soon, otherwise we're fucked.

Now, two people can do that kind of ground work a lot faster than one.

I'll tell you what I'm gonna do.

This is the best deal you got all day.

If you work with me on this...

I'll share my byline.

How very generous of you!

You laugh.

Yes, I do.

It's as good as it gets, baby.

because the truth is,

if it comes down to just me or just you,

it's gonna be me

all the way.

So what do you think?

Yeah, that's what I need to know from you.

It's 1-0-1, Bravo lima.

Okay, thanks, for nothing.

Please call me if you see it.

Okay, bye.

Yes, I know there's a fucking FAA warning

posted in every fucking airport, between here and Konigsee

what I asked is if you saw the fucking thing!

Yes, I'll hold.

No, I won't hold.

His name is Dwight Renfield.

Jesus, yes!

Renfield, Dwight!

Renfield!

Dwight Renfield, are you deaf?!

Bastard!

Bitch!

Anything?

No.

You?

Hell, no.

What about that?

He's not gonna hit Wilmington, it's way too big.

Uh-huh.

(man) Wilmington control, this is Bill.

Hi Bill, this is Mertin Morrison with the FAA.

I was wondering if you could help me out with something here...

Absolutely, Mr. Morrison, always interested in helping the FAA any way possible.

What can I do for you?

We're calling all the coastal airfields

lookin' for an aircraft we believe is involved

in some illegal activity.

Now, this particular plane is a sky master 3-3-7.

We got lots of those, very reliable.

See, this is a black Sky master 3-3-7

with red piping, tail #1-0-1 bravo lima.

Have you seen the plane, Bill?

Sir, have you seen this plane?

Sir?

No.

He was lying.

Yeah, he was.

Now what?

Now we get our asses to Wilmington.

It's time to bag this prick, go pack.

I'll be back in two minutes.

Dees?

Way too easy.

Dees! What are you doing? Let me go!

Dees!

Dees!

Open this door!

Dees!

Open this door! What are you, crazy?!

Dees!

Thanks for your help, Jimmy.

But I don't share my byline,

and I'm not sharing the Night Flier either.

He's all mine.

Open this goddamn door right now!

Dees, shit!

What did you tell me, Dees?

These stories can get to you.

They can creep inside like some kind of cancer.

Isn't that what you warned me about?!

Isn't that what you said happened to Dottie Walsh?!

Sorry, Jimmy, you lose.

See ya on the front page.

Dees!

Shit!

God, fuck!

Look out, ladies and sensation seekers,

A very bad man is coming your way.

You'll read his real name and forget it.

but that's okay,

because you'll remember my name for him.

A name that's gonna put him up there with Jack the Ripper

and the Cleveland Torso murderer

and the Black Dahlia.

You'll remember The Night Flier.

Coming soon to a checkout counter near you.

( controller ) This is runway 3-4,

Descendant Maintain 3,000.

Roger, flight heading 1-6-0,

Leaving six for 3,000,

7-0 delta romeo.

We got some nasty weather down here.

Wilmington, this is 7-0 delta romeo,

You got a sky master 3-3-7 down there on the ramp?

Tail #1-0-1 Bravo lima?

Wilmington this is 7-0 delta romeo,

Did you get my last transmission?

Goddamnit, Wilmington, talk to me!

What's going on down there?!

( evil voice ) Dees.

Dwight.

Turn around while you still can, Richard.

I don't want you here.

Fuck you asshole, I'm not letting you go.

Dwight, you in there, buddy?

Fuck.

No more.

(evil voice) I've been watching you, Dees.

I've been watching you very closely.

Yes, I know you, you see.

I know...

all about you.

I trust you now understand

that you can never write all what you know...

Can never reveal what you have seen.

Open your camera, now!

You're real.

So are you, for now at least.

This is your last chance, my would-be biographer.

Open your camera or I'll do it!

Your appetite for blood intrigues me.

We have a lot in common, you and I.

Perhaps you need me, Dees.

But there are others who need me as well.

Don't fear for your life, Dees.

I have no intention of killing you.

After all,

we are brothers in blood, are we not?

This sad world would be much sadder place

without the likes of you.

Besides,

I've fed well tonight.

So very well.

But listen closely, my inquisitive friend.

because I say this only once.

Do not follow me anymore,

or I will swallow you whole.

That much...

I can promise.

Dwight!

I need to see your face!

Show it to me, Dwight!

Show it to me.

I suppose it was inevitable.

You've been looking for me all your life.

In the morgues, in the graveyards,

In the faces of the dead and dying.

Your whole existence has been a search for me.

Well... here I am, my friend.

Am I not all that you hoped for?

Am I not all that you thought I would be?

Believe in me, Richard, for I am real.

You've always wanted to know what hell was like.

Now you will know.

You know what I had to do to get this, Richard?

I had to pull it out of me.

It was so cold, Richard.

So cold.

Richard, could you look this way?

I'm drowning, Richard.

I'm drowning.

I thought maybe we could be friends.

Let me be your friend.

You've been here before, Richard.

And you'll be here again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

Dwight!

No way, baby!

It ain't happening!

Freeze, asshole!

Drop it!

You too.

I'll cut you too!

Aahhh...!

Aah!

Who are you?

Katherine Blair.

Reporter...

"Inside View".

Please just, keep your distance.

"Never believe what you publish...

Never publish what you believe."

What a sick bastard.

Who the fuck is this guy?

His name is Richard Dees.

We call him "The Night Flier".

Sorry, Dees.

You lose.