Original subtitles

NIGHT OF THE DAMNED

Jean, did you read the article in Le Figaro?

"The culprit behind Marie Duren's murder case has been caught.

The husband did it."

There's more, the article describes the whole case.

"The case was solved thanks to the intuition and intelligence

of famous journalist Jean Duprey."

I'm not home.

Hello?

No, I'm sorry, Mr. Duprey is not home.

Yes, I'm his wife.

Thank you, Minister.

I'm flattered.

I'll let him know, thanks.

Jean, you could have spoken to the Interior Minister.

I'm not home.

All right.

Jean, this message must be from a princess or something like that.

Go on, read it. I keep no secrets from you.

Well, well...

"Dear Jean, perhaps you don't remember me anymore.

I have never forgotten all those marvelous hours we spent together in your youth.

Those pleasant, joyful memories are still in my mind.

But why did I feel the need to write you this letter after such a long time?

I wonder.

Truth is always buried deep, but you're the kind of man who could find it anywhere,

even when it's buried and invisible somewhere far away.

The tomb eagerly awaits.

Love me, oh tender heart.

Best wishes, your dear friend Guillaume St. Lambert.

2/4/9/1970."

What is it? A poem?

Jean, what are you thinking about?

Guillaume St. Lambert.

He's one of the most peculiar, bizarre people I've ever known.

It's been at least ten years since we last met.

- You've never told me about him. - It never occurred to me.

An extraordinarily cunning boy.

He was moody, though, and a bit of a hypochondriac.

He would get strangely excited, especially when he played the violin.

He was an exquisite player.

Doesn't this letter seem strange to you?

He's always been a strange fellow.

He always loved riddles and puzzles.

It was another of his peculiarities.

They said he owned a castle, a haunted one at that.

"The tomb eagerly awaits. Love me, oh tender heart."

I wonder if it means he's sick. Or maybe he's in danger and needs your help.

Well said. Staying with me has done wonders to your smarts.

Time for bed. Let's go.

"Love me, oh tender heart."

Of course I love you!

Stupid me! It's a poem by Baudelaire.

So?

- Look. You see anything? - No.

Read the first letters of these lines.

F, l, o, w, e, r, s, o, f...

"Flowers of Evil." - Correct, "Flowers of Evil."

Guillaume loved Baudelaire's poetry.

Almost obsessively so.

He knew his entire body of work by heart.

I just remembered something.

He gave me a superb copy of Baudelaire's works.

Let's see.

Here it is.

He had purchased two copies.

They're very rare editions.

One for him, and one for me.

"To my dearest Jean, to celebrate our mutual love for Baudelaire's poetry."

A beautiful dedication.

I'm sure Guillaume is referring to this book.

Come here a second.

You see anything unusual? - No, nothing.

- The date. - 2/4/9/1970.

Exactly. We're not in September, it's October.

Besides, this isn't the kind of letter one would need two days to write.

From the 2nd to the 4th.

Why did he bother to separate the dates, then?

Don't you agree with me?

"Truth is always buried deep."

Let's start from the end, then.

1970 consists of two digits.

- 19 and 70. - That's right.

19 and 70...

This is page 70.

Listen to the last two lines.

"And this horrible confidence whispered to the confessional of the heart."

Let's see page 19.

Here we are.

The last two lines again.

"The mysterious enemy which devours our hearts

grows stronger with the blood we lose."

Boy, what a riddle.

But every riddle has a solution.

Let's try to analyze the remaining numbers. 2/4/9.

It can be read in four different ways.

"Truth is always buried deep."

Exactly.

Let's see page 249, then.

249, 249...

Guillaume would often quote this bit.

"When she had sucked all the marrow from my bones,

I would languidly turn to give her a kiss full of love,

only to see nothing but a pus-filled, slimy-sided wine skin in her place."

I will announce your presence to Mr. St. Lambert immediately.

Excuse me.

What a weird place.

A bona fide castle. I'm sure there's a ghost somewhere.

What's that?

See? You've already found your ghost.

Good evening.

I'm Jean Duprey, an old friend of Guillaume's.

I'm Rita St. Lambert, Guillaume's wife.

- Danielle, my wife. - Welcome to my home.

We are just passing through on vacation.

I thought it would be nice to visit Guillaume.

I had no idea that Guillaume had gotten married.

Please accept my belated congratulations.

Thank you.

I haven't seen your husband in a long time.

We're close friends.

I've often mentioned him to my wife.

She'll be glad to finally meet him in person.

- Guillaume is quite ill. - Ill?

Yes, unfortunately.

I can't express how much this saddens me.

What kind of illness is he suffering from?

Even the doctors haven't been able to tell us exactly.

They can't figure out the nature of his condition.

He shouldn't be playing.

Every time he picks up the violin, it feels as if it sucks some life out of him.

Just a few minutes. Don't let him tire too much.

The slightest emotion worsens his condition.

Everything has become tiring for him.

Come, my darling.

My dear Jean.

Guillaume.

I'm so glad to see you.

Time for an introduction.

The Prince of St. Lambert. My wife, Danielle.

I heard about your illness.

My end is near, I'm afraid.

Would you allow me to call a specialist friend of mine to visit you?

It would be useless, my friend.

But this sounds like nonsense!

Rita has a lot of faith in our doctor, Professor Berry.

Do you still read Baudelaire? - Yes.

And you? - From time to time.

I was reading some of his works just the other day.

I imagine you'd like to be alone for a minute.

You probably have much to say to each other after so many years.

I will take Mrs. Duprey to her room.

We'd love to have you as our guests for as long as you wish.

I didn't know you got married.

Congratulations, she's a very beautiful woman.

I knew you'd come.

I knew you'd understand!

Jean, it's terrible. - Calm down, Guillaume.

I need you to calm down first if you want my help.

Come on, spill it.

You're right. I'll try to calm down as much as I can.

It's not easy, though.

Now listen, Jean. My illness is, well...

It's affected my family for three centuries.

All the males in the family line, to be precise.

A hereditary disease.

What sort of disease?

Hereditary disease... Who am I kidding?

As soon as a male member of the family reaches 35 years of age,

he's struck by a mysterious illness.

The symptoms are like an invisible, incurable cancer.

It consumes their flesh and blood,

and renders them insane.

So much so that those afflicted...

Those afflicted eventually...

Eventually what? Tell me, Guillaume.

Calm down and tell me!

They eventually understand.

Even if they end up alone with the truth.

But is it the actual truth? - The truth about what?

And where did you discover it? - Here. Within these walls.

Within the ancient stones of this castle.

Its decrepit books and old papers.

And even in the poisonous air I breathe!

The first Guillaume St. Lambert succumbed to this very same illness.

I only found out about it recently.

I remembered what happened to my father,

but I had no idea this horrible illness went back three centuries!

There's no cure.

Actually, there is one. Only one.

But I'm racing against time, and time is my enemy!

I can't take this anymore!

Guillaume! Guillaume, calm down!

Calm down!

Please stop, Mr. Duprey. Professor Berry will handle things.

He had a seizure all of a sudden.

Where can I find a telephone?

There are no phones in the castle.

Evenin'.

Fill her up, please. You got a phone?

- Yeah, by the bar. - Good, thanks.

Hello, may I speak with Dr. Stablinsky, please?

Thanks, I'll wait. I'm Jean Duprey.

Good evening, Dr. Stablinsky. Duprey speaking.

Yeah, don't tell me to go to hell, I'm already there.

No, nothing.

It's nothing serious.

Yeah, yeah.

There's something I'd like to know.

I'd like to know if a Professor Berry is listed in the Register of Physicians.

Professor Berry, yes.

Yes, it's important.

Yeah, I'll wait.

He's not?

Fair enough. Thanks for checking.

I'll explain everything later, Dr. Stablinsky. Thanks.

The situation is much worse than we thought.

Is he very ill?

Ill? That would be something.

But this illness of his doesn't exist.

It can't be classified and it's impossible to diagnose.

What's Professor Berry's opinion?

You want to know something about Professor Berry?

I just spoke with Dr. Stablinsky, and he told me

Berry's name isn't listed in the Register of Physicians.

Guillaume has overcome the crisis, thankfully.

He's resting peacefully now.

Let me tell you a painful truth to help you better understand Guillaume's illness.

He's a psychopath.

A hereditary disease running in the St. Lambert family.

That's how the story goes, at least.

Is Professor Berry a psychiatrist?

Of course. Berry isn't his real name, though.

Yet we must pretend it is,

because it was the name of the doctor of one of Guillaume's ancestors.

He wouldn't allow the doctor to cure him, otherwise.

My husband has been reading some strange books lately.

He has a morbid fascination with the family history.

He slowly started living in his own world,

with the imagination of a sick man.

His obsessions are slowly eroding him.

Every time he has a crisis, he comes out more and more exhausted.

And the gloomy atmosphere of this castle is killing him as well.

I could persuade him to leave.

I mean, I could... - See these candles?

Another one of his ideas.

It's been more than a year that he started shunning electricity.

No! No! I don't want all this light!

It's killing me, I don't want it! It's killing me!

It's killing me...

- I have a strange feeling. - What?

I don't know.

I feel like I've stepped into another world.

I mean, staying here is making it difficult to

believe the rest of the world is out there...

The world we left just 48 hours ago.

This place is like any other.

The world is full of castles.

Come to bed, Danielle.

You're exhausted. You're feeling anxious.

Jean, look!

Oh, come on. What did you see?

The castle ghost?

Please, it's not a laughing matter.

Relax now, don't worry.

Just relax.

It's just an old picture.

What's wrong with it?

I don't know.

It frightens me.

It sent a chill down my spine.

I felt as if the eyes of those men were staring at me.

Come, you need a good night's sleep.

Who are they burning in the picture?

A heretic or a witch, who knows?

People born at the wrong time in history.

Nowadays, we don't burn anyone at the stake. Not literally, at least.

Try to get some sleep, my darling.

No...

No! No!

Danielle!

Danielle!

Danielle! What's wrong?

I beg you, take me away from here!

Take me away from here!

- Darling... - Take me away.

Try to calm down. Relax.

I'm here.

It was just a dream.

Relax.

Calm down, darling. Calm down now.

Jean.

Guillaume.

Why did you get up?

They'll come to take me back.

They don't want me to talk to you.

She doesn't. - Calm down.

Who doesn't want you to talk to me?

In there. You'll find the truth in there.

- Where? - In the library.

The truth about what?

A horrible truth.

Something that will bring you down into the abyss of madness.

You think I'm insane, don't you?

Yes, I'm going insane, but for a different reason from the one they told you.

It's started ever since...

Ever since...

Go on.

No one would believe me, so how could you?

Listen, I'm a condemned man, because I've discovered everything.

I can still save myself, but I've yet to figure out how.

There is a door to salvation, but I don't know where.

Guillaume, if you really want my help, you must stop with these riddles.

I'm begging you. - Guillaume?

It's too late. Meet me in the garden tomorrow morning, at 7.

Here, take this ring.

Wake up. Wake up, Danielle.

You've slept the whole morning.

Guillaume is very sick. Get up.

- Is he dying? - I'm afraid so. Come.

Danielle! Danielle!

I'll take her upstairs.

I can't wait until tomorrow morning.

I'm dying to go home.

Jean, did you hear what I was saying?

Of course. There's a sad atmosphere here.

Especially now that poor Guillaume is no longer with us.

Jean... Jean, I'm scared.

Relax, my darling. It's only an open window.

There, closed.

No! No! No!

I'm sorry, Mr. Duprey, but we don't have any leads so far.

No clues at all. We don't even know who the victim was.

One thing's certain, Inspector.

The body was brought here after she was killed.

Her blood has been drained.

There's no trace of it whatsoever.

No footprints, nothing at all.

She couldn't have popped out of nowhere.

And why not?

However, I'm glad I found you here, Mr. Duprey.

You're the best at discovering mysterious cases, and vice versa.

Who owns the castle? - It was Prince St. Lambert's.

A dear friend of mine who passed away yesterday.

His wife is still there.

Anyone else?

Yes, there was also a doctor.

He left right after the prince's death.

Who's the victim?

That's what the police are trying to ascertain.

My wife will return to Paris, but I'll hang around a little while longer.

Inspector Gerard saw fit to ask me to assist him with the case.

I'd be grateful if you stayed here at the castle.

Together with Danielle, of course.

I'm feeling quite lonely.

Besides, your wife is a very fascinating individual.

Thanks. So kind of you.

Thank you, it's really an honor.

My only regret, Mr. Duprey, is that we met too late.

Just as Guillaume was...

Inspector Gerard wishes to apologize in advance, Ms. Lernod,

but he will have to ask you some questions.

This one dates back to the late 1400s.

There are several other rare items, too.

Apparently, the castle had a considerably larger art collection.

Alas, a fire destroyed most of it. - A fire? When?

One hundred years ago, more or less.

Lord St. Lambert, Guillaume's grandfather, killed himself.

He jumped from this window.

He was haunted by the Furies, according to the family legend.

Mrs. Duprey!

It's nothing. I feel better already.

I suffer from vertigo.

Drink this. It will do wonders for you.

I'm sorry to have made you come all the way here, but there have been some developments.

Did you manage to identify the victim?

- I'm afraid we did. - What do you mean?

The victim lived in Strasbourg.

A friend accompanied her home shortly before midnight.

Death occurred between midnight and midnight-thirty.

Yet we found her here, hundreds of kilometers away.

It sounds crazy.

That's not all.

The victim's name was Nicolette Valmor St. Lambert.

Cousin of Guillaume St. Lambert.

Does this ring any bells? - It's very strange.

"An essay on black magic."

Danielle.

Danielle.

Wake up, my love.

Jean, you're back.

Any news? - They've identified the dead girl.

Nicolette Valmor, Guillaume's cousin.

At midnight, she was at her home in Strasbourg.

Half an hour later she was dead. Horribly killed.

Somebody must have taken her body here.

What's your opinion?

I don't have a clear one yet.

I've been a bit of a bookworm.

And I found something interesting.

What did you find?

An essay on black magic.

Guillaume must have read it carefully. It was full of his annotations.

One chapter is about the magical properties of stones.

Guillaume had underlined a specific passage about amethyst stones.

Just like this one in my hand, see? - Where did you get it?

From Guillaume. The last day he was alive.

- Another riddle to solve. - Indeed.

I'll be damned.

Look what's inside this ring.

Now that's a riddle.

"A steep road, a tunnel under an oak,

a crypt, and an urn."

- What does it mean? - I have no idea.

But Guillaume had underlined a passage in that essay on magic.

About amethyst being the best remedy against a witch's curse.

Before he died, Guillaume told me he had uncovered a horrible truth.

A madness-inducing truth.

Do you think Rita came up with some diabolical plan

to drive Guillaume insane and get rid of him for good?

What about his cousin's death?

Well, remember what Shakespeare said:

"There are more mysteries in heaven and earth than we could possibly imagine."

We better get some rest now.

Danielle!

What's wrong? - Jean!

Jean, it was so horrible!

It felt like a breath. I can't even explain it!

Take me away from here, please! Help me!

I can't take it anymore! Take me away from here!

Please, I'm so scared! - Calm down.

- I'm so scared. - It's nothing.

It was only a dream.

It's the wind.

No, Jean! It wasn't the wind. You've got to believe me!

It was like a metallic breath.

Don't leave me alone here, please! - Calm down, relax.

Look!

What did you see?

The flames are moving!

Don't be silly.

It's just the moon.

It's the moonlight.

You're too easily influenced by this strange place, my dear.

It was just the moon reflecting on the glass.

Relax now. - I heard a scream.

It's nothing. My wife was having a nightmare. Sort of.

She's very upset, I'm afraid.

I really don't know what's gotten into her.

Everything's fine, Danielle.

Don't be a child.

I'll take care of her.

A word, Inspector.

Do you know her?

Yes, I met her once.

She's Guillaume's cousin. - Yes.

Nicolette Valmor. She lived in Strasbourg.

She was killed, but they don't know where.

A ghastly murder.

A strange case. - A strange case, indeed.

What's your opinion?

A ritual killing, perhaps.

One which happened under crazy circumstances.

How was the relationship between Guillaume and his cousin?

Terrible. Last time she visited, they argued.

Guillaume was meant to marry her,

but he ended up marrying me instead.

The St. Lambert family is rather strange.

Believe me, Mr. Duprey.

Perhaps there was a hint of truth in Guillaume's rants.

It seems like a curse has haunted his family.

I shouldn't have married him.

I understand.

Excuse the question, but I'm curious about something.

I can't remember Professor Berry's actual name.

Professor Jean Baziac.

Sorry for making you drive 300 kilometers,

but we've found another girl killed in the same manner as Ms. Valmor.

Let's go.

It's truly uncanny.

She's been drained, sucked dry.

No traces of blood at all.

And if that wasn't enough, the room was locked from the inside.

Who is she?

She probably left the porter some ID.

Let me show you.

The register, please.

Here.

Her documents have vanished into thin air, see?

Our culprit isn't just a sadist. More like the Devil in the flesh.

- I wouldn't rule that out. - Huh?

Can you remember her name?

I'm afraid not. We have so many guests here, you see.

Inspector.

We found this. - Let me see.

"To my sister..."

But this woman is Nicolette Valmor!

Another St. Lambert?

What the hell?

- Can I use the phone? - Of course.

Ready. - Thank you.

- Hello? - Yes?

- Is it the Register of Physicians association? - Yes, go ahead.

I need to speak with Dr. Stablinsky. It's urgent.

Right away.

- Hello? - Dr. Stablinsky?

- Yes? - Good morning.

- Who is it? - Jean Duprey.

My dear Duprey. Still in hell?

Yes, I'm still in hell.

I'm getting used to it, though.

Ask me your question, Duprey. I'm at your disposal.

I just need some information, if you please.

I'd like to know something about a certain Doctor Jean Baziac.

Baziac... Baziac...

You better ask a famous writer who knows him well.

- A famous writer? - Yes, but you'll need a medium.

He died in 1778.

I'm talking about Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

- Jean-Jacques Rousseau? - "The Confessions."

Oh, of course. You mean Jean-Jacques Rousseau's "The Confessions."

Baziac was a famous physician Rousseau wrote about.

You're right, I hadn't thought of it.

I slept all day but I'm still tired.

I feel like I've just returned from a long trip.

Where have you been?

I had a meeting with Gerard.

And that riddle?

No clue yet.

Actually, I do have one.

But you'll think I've gone bonkers if I tell you.

- Who are they? - The two victims.

Do you feel sick?

No, but I have a strange sensation.

For a moment, I felt like I'd seen them somewhere.

You saw them? When?

It's like I saw them in a dream.

Danielle.

Danielle.

Wake up.

Wake up.

I fell asleep.

- It's odd, I felt as if... - Tell me later.

I may have found the solution to the riddle in this old document.

Where did you find it?

In the library. It's the copy of a public record from 1650.

The trial of a woman named Tarin Drole.

She was accused of black magic.

In other words, a witch.

The most serious charge against her was

committing human sacrifices in the name of a diabolical entity.

It also mentions potions, curses, and so on.

I'd like you to read what's written here.

"December 17th, 1650.

The witch called Tarin Drole has been burned at the stake.

Her cursed ashes were collected and buried in a deconsecrated place."

The head judge in the case was Lord St. Lambert.

Guillaume Charles Auguste.

Then that picture represents the outcome of the trial.

Perhaps.

But the person at the stake could be some heretic.

Ever since I laid my eyes on that picture, I could feel there was a secret behind it.

A mystery or a nightmare, maybe.

I beg you, Jean, take me away from here.

I'm scared.

Maybe Guillaume wasn't insane, despite what Rita says.

Why does every member of his family die in such ghastly and mysterious ways?

That's what we're trying to find out.

Do you remember what Guillaume said?

"A truth which brings you down into the abyss of madness."

Either Guillaume was driven insane by discovering this truth,

or perhaps his was the truth of a madman.

Tarin Drole...

Such an odd name.

It makes sense only when you pronounce it.

It's clear it's not an actual name, but a moniker.

A moniker for somebody with a grotesquely deformed nose.

Drole...

Drole...

Wait a minute.

Tarin...

Drole...

Now, pay attention. Guillaume's wife is named Rita.

But her original last name is Lernod, as you may remember.

Rita Lernod.

Sorry, Jean, but I don't get it.

Have you ever played anagrams?

Stop playing around, Jean.

Why did you mention anagrams?

"Tarin Drole" is an anagram of "Rita Lernod."

Tarin Drole...

Tarin Drole...

Rita Lernod...

So what?

Nothing, just a coincidence.

Or is it?

Danielle...

Danielle...

Danielle...

Just relax. Why are you shaking so much?

I don't know.

It all seems so strange, especially tonight.

No, Danielle. Nothing's different tonight.

You seem so nervous.

Drink this. It will make you feel better.

Drink.

A flame in my glass!

A flame!

Don't be foolish, it was just the light from the candles.

No! I'm not crazy!

I really saw it!

It was a flame!

Jean! Jean!

Jean!

It can't be!

No!

No! No!

No! This can't be real!

Jean! Jean, help me!

No! No!

Jean!

Jean!

Jean!

Jean! I will never die!

I will cease to exist only when my ashes are scattered to the wind!

Only then will I cease to exist!

Witch!

Damn you!

Danielle, darling. It's me. Be strong now.

I'm so cold, my love.

It's all over.

Don't cry. You've always been such a brave girl.

Jean... Jean...

Home sweet home.

Danielle. - Coming.

Here.

Cheers. - To your health.

Come here, you.

Come here, doggie.

We left you all alone, I know.

There's one last thing I'd like to know.

What?

Why didn't Guillaume do something when he discovered Tarin Drole's tomb?

Because he didn't actually locate the tomb.

But he figured out that Rita Lernod was Tarin Drole.

That's the horrible truth he was talking about.

He tried to tell me right away, remember?

You're right.

Thanks, Antoine.

What is it?

Do you know other princes apart from Guillaume St. Lambert?

Of course I do.

Prince Vasile Alexandrescu. A real nutter.

He had a castle, as well.

In Transylvania, land of the vampires.

I wonder what became of him.

THE END

Subtitled by Francesco Massaccesi