Original subtitles

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Based on a short story by Manuel Pratt

[woman] Buying or selling an apartment is actually quite easy.

Each has their own job, passion or their own thing as we say.

I wouldn't say it's my passion.

It's just a job I enjoy doing...

a lot.

Each agent has their own sales strategies.

Some first mention the location.

Central apartment near local amenities.

When dealing with couples with children,

we point out the proximity of a school, a nursery

or a neighborhood park.

If it's an elderly person, we mention nearby shops.

If it's a single man, we mention a gym, a club,

or a sex shop.

I'm joking.

In reality, I first analyze the person’s profile.

I try to guess their needs,

their wishes and desires.

That's how I work.

The first step...

is to size up the person.

When I knew you were interested,

seeing that you were still quite young,

I thought it was best to focus on the advantages of the actual apartment.

You both had a car, making it easy to get around.

You clearly had no children, so the nursery was irrelevant.

I mentioned how quiet and peaceful the area was,

just to reassure you.

I told you about the car park and the quiet neighbors.

I even think I scored a point on that one.

Then, it was time for the viewing.

I have my own method which sets me apart.

On opening the front door,

all the other doors must be closed.

This allows the future owners to discover the apartment by themselves.

They have to be the first ones to enter each room.

I follow...

always.

They look around the room and I point out its advantages.

The eyes first, then the ears.

That's the only way it works.

I proceeded like a couple with you.

I started with the kitchen, then the bathroom, the dining room,

and finally the bedrooms.

I was right in thinking

that its functionality interested you more than its looks.

I saw your friend's face gradually light up.

He smiled at the built-in wardrobe.

I was too hasty in thinking you loved the place.

That's when he gave me a sharp blow to the head.

As I hit the floor, I noticed how soft the carpet was.

It was silly of me not to mention it.

I'd forgotten this important point.

I strived to get up, but you sat on me.

Your friend quickly got rid of my skirt and tights.

I tried to scream but I couldn't.

You pushed my face into the soft carpet.

It was probably wool, I got some fibers stuck in my teeth.

I screamed.

But the soundproofing was excellent.

Nobody could hear me.

I told you it was soundproof. Now you know I wasn't lying.

My screams couldn't breach the walls.

What progress! Fluffy carpet and thick walls.

Absolute tranquility.

As your friend raped me, I screamed out loud.

Double glazing...

No-one would have heard me,

nor your groaning when you came, one after the other.

21st-century modernism keeps physical pleasure a secret,

away from others.

Of course, I received a few blows. but I was lucky I wasn't killed.

Two punches to the stomach, and an uppercut to knock me out.

The last punch split my lip.

After you had left,

I staggered to the bathroom where I discovered the 3 kinds of jet.

Soft, tonic or massage.

You can set the ideal temperature in just the push of a button.

No more fiddling with each tap to get the right temperature.

I'd never mentioned such things before.

My mistake.

I could have phoned the police.

There was a phone line...

there was one in each room.

Very useful.

But I didn't call them.

No, I just left, calmly,

slamming the reinforced door behind me.

The door however was impenetrable.

I let some time pass by. I told no-one.

It took me two years to find any trace leading to my rapists...

to find you.

On the day of the viewing, I wrote down your number plate.

It took me two years.

Two years is a long time. One changes quite a bit, physically.

That's why your friend didn't recognize me.

He recklessly flirted with me. I played dumb.

He didn't notice my disgust when he took my hand,

nor that I wanted to vomit when we rose our glasses.

We toasted to the future.

I was really toasting to gardening.

Have you seen the garden here? Nice, isn't it?

No-one can see in from the outside.

You can walk around naked.

There's no-one to startle you, or watching you.

The ground is soft and crumbly. It muffles screams.

No-one heard your friend's screams as the earth filled his lungs.

Humans make great compost.

Grass grows wonderfully. I pointed that out and you smiled,

unaware you were treading on your dead friend,

or what was left of him. It was 6 months ago.

What did you say?

I can't hear you... understand you.

That's probably the tape over your mouth.

Sorry.

It was harder for me to find you,

and to convince you to view this house.

At one point, I thought you'd recognized me,

but you hadn't.

I used all my charm and it worked.

You invited me out for dinner.

You aren't very original.

And now, here we are, in this house full of cupboards.

What was it you said? Oh yes, I remember.

You said you had nothing to put in them.

But you do...

you.

Don't try to speak. You'll waste energy and oxygen.

The cupboard you're in is quite small.

You shouldn't waste the only oxygen you have right away.

Sorry I dirtied your coat when I knocked you out.

I couldn't have known your scalp would tear so easily.

You won't succeed in breaking the doors open.

They have special hinges.

They're a lot stronger.

But I know nothing about hinges.

I taped around the doors so no air can get in.

And there are anti-humidity joints, so nothing can get in.

Humidity can be such a burden.

So I'll wait. I have plenty of time.

My next visit is at 6pm.

That's in 4 hours in another house.

By that time you'll be dead.

There's a water heater in the basement for your body.

The brochure says that to heat the house efficiently,

it can burn up to 200 lbs of waste per day,

any kind of waste.

That's 40 lbs more than you weigh.

It would take less than 2 hours.

What progress!

And it only leaves a small heap of ash.

That's another good selling point.

What?

You sound like I did when you pushed my face into that soft carpet.

Isn't that amusing?

Oh, I forgot to mention the kitchen and the tiles.

My mistake. We still have time.

In a kitchen, the type of floor is just as important as the amenities.

Tiles even give modern homes the charm of good old kitchens,

where all the family would have breakfast together.