All language subtitles for American.Horror.Story.S05E12.Be.Our.Guest.1080p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-NTb_track3_[eng]

LIZ: We started
with such high hopes.

With all the previous owners
being dead,

the hotel was
under new management-- ours.

We were determined
to remake the Cortez

in our own image.

This would be no mere hotel.

We had ambitions to be
a family to the friendless,

a comfort to those in the cold,

a beehive of acceptance.

It was supposed to be
the perfect ending.

Oh, hello.
Hello.

Welcome to
the Cortez.

Please, sign our guest book.

Sure.

May I offer the two of you
a glass of champagne?

Ooh.
Don't mind if I do.

Ah.

(whispering): I think
those are the reviewers

from that Internet site,
Trip Adventurers.

They must've heard about
our grand reopening.

I know.

Can't you see
the ridiculously gracious smile

plastered on my face?

What is that pungent odor?

Sage. To cleanse the spirit.

I'll show you
to your room.

(elevator bell dings)

LIZ: To polish the jewel
that is the Cortez,

it required not only money--
which we got from liquidating

the Countess's
numerous pieces of art--

it was going to take
four stars on the Internet.

And so, we were off.

We haven't finished with
every floor, but this is one of

our newly
refreshed rooms.

Egyptian cotton.

400 thread count.

Minibar?

Mixers are on the house.

If there's
anything else you need,

just pick up
the phone.

Thank you.

Enjoy your stay.

And you were ready
to give it a pass.

Kill me.

(chuckles)

(gasps)

Are you kidding?

That's a Toto Neorest 700H,
baby.

The Japanese self-cleaning
wonder toilet.

(sighs):
Oh.

(laughs)

I have always wanted
to try one of these.

SALLY: Doesn't it just make
you want to take a dump?

Who the hell are you?

How did you get in here?

(Sally sighs)

I got to say,
it's a nice room.

They spent every penny they had
to change everything they could.

They took out the mattresses,

especially the ones
I split open.

Took out the carpets,

soaked through
with so many years

of piss and blood.

They even changed the furniture.

But you know
what they couldn't take out?

The pain.

'Cause I'm still here.

All right, I'm gonna
have to ask you to leave.

Now.
Hey.

Oh! God!

(gasping)

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Call the police!

Some crazy bitch
just killed my partner!

Please... ah!

Oh, my God. Oh!

Oh, God.

Please, you got to help me!

No, no.
You have to help me.

I'm new at this murder game,

and, Jesus Christ,
is it a thrill.

Ah, crap.

We got another one down
at the end of the hallway.

Damn it.

This has got to stop.

He stained
the new carpet.

Yeah, we got a serious problem.

The ghosts keep
killing the guests,

we're gonna end up
with zero stars.

It's time we had
a goddamn meeting.

¶ ¶

Hello!

Welcome!

Thank you all for coming.
MARCY:
Excuse me.

My understanding is that
you two are in charge now,

and I'd like to speak to you
about changing my room.

LIZ:
Sweetheart, you're a ghost.

You can choose
whatever room you'd like.

MARCY: Well, yes,
but the problem is,

after I pick a room

and then settle in
with my erotica novels,

I never know if a guest
is going to check in

and disturb me.

I know this is
Los Angeles,

but I'm an old-fashioned girl
and I like my privacy.

STEPHEN: I dig it when
the guests come in.

It's like a free dirty movie.

I'm into that amateur stuff.

(chuckles)

Are you three, like,
a thing now?

VENDELA:
Ya.

We try dating
the lumberjack,

but he's a gay.

IRIS: Okay, everyone,
please, listen.

This is important,

and it affects every
single one of you.

We would like you
to stop killing the guests.

(laughs)
(murmuring)

LIZ:
It's not all of you,

but we are trying

to build something special here.

A real... destination.

Look, they're gonna get two
football teams down in Carson.

That's 20 minutes
down the 110.

This place could
be filled.

But if it gets out
that people are

checking in and
disappearing,

then obviously,
that's bad for business.

Screw you, Iris.

You're the biggest
killer in this room,

you bloodsucker.
IRIS:
Maybe in the past.

But every drop of blood
I drink now is donated.

Any murders that
go on in this hotel

are done by your kind.

Excuse me, but...

what do you mean by "our kind"?

SALLY:
Can we all just call

a spade a spade and say
you're talking about Will and I?

I mean, Woo is

too busy munching
on Swedish fish

to bother anyone.

Marcy molests herself

or complains all day.

The lumberjack
just mopes.

And that hipster couple
just trips around

moaning about for kale.

Will and I are
the only ones

who still get off on a
little bit of true mischief.

And we're not
stopping.

Ending some jerk-off

who wastes the air
that he breathes?

That is the real high.

I'm dead, but I've
never felt more alive.

Ha.

(slow clapping)

Beautifully said.

And I couldn't
agree more.

But I must come down
on the side of Cleopatra

and her friend on this issue.

SALLY:
Oh, come on!

You telling people
to stop killing

is like Colonel Sanders telling
us to stop eating chicken.

I'm not familiar
with your military friend

and his fondness
for poultry,

but my killing days
are over.

I thought
the Ten Commandment killings

were the beginning
of my work,

but it turns out
that they are the epilogue.

The torch has been passed,
and I feel complete.

But this is a practical
decision, not an emotional one.

This is our home.

Frankly,
it's the only one we've got.

None of us know
what is waiting for us

beyond this place
if it no longer stands.

Perhaps, without these walls
to protect us, we would all be

forced to move on and face

the judgment of our Maker.

If we can't stay in business,
all bets are off.

We'll have to sell.

Or get evicted.

WILL:
That's bullshit.

I paid cash
for this place.

My lawyers will keep
paying the upkeep and the taxes

for as long
as they have the funds.

Yeah, well, that's not gonna
take very long, cowboy.

Sure, your business
was worth a fortune

when you were alive.

But you're such a narcissist

that you never brought anyone
else in to design your lines.

And when you disappeared,
they had zilch.

Now the whole shithouse
has gone up in flames.

Your stock is worth pennies.

That is bullshit!

You're a goddamn liar.

Enough!
This is not a democracy!

We are not
in the House of Lords!

We are a ship at sea!

And when it comes
to you spirits, I am captain!

So listen up, mateys!

There are six criteria

that the U.S. Department
of Interior uses to determine

if a place is worthy
of being called

an historical landmark.

This hotel fits them all.

The one thing it does not
yet possess is time.

Age.

August 23, 2026.

That will make it 100 years
that this hotel has stood.

And on that day, it will earn
its rightful distinction

as an historical landmark.

They won't be able
to tear it down

even if they
wanted to.

The killing must stop!

SALLY:
Oh, hell no.

Some of us can't go out
into the world

to find
companionship,

so I'm not gonna stop
collecting souls

until I find my soul mate.
MARCH:
Sally, I don't want

to get rough with you,
but you and I both know

there is a way to get
you to do as I please.

Or do you not recall
the last time you disobeyed me?

(muffled screaming,
drill whirring)

So, it's settled, then.

The point of being dead
is that there are no rules.

It's the only salvation.

Who gives a shit if they
tear this place down

and send us all
straight to hell?

It can't be any worse!

(spits)

(knocking on door)

Go away!

Complimentary bottle
of champagne

for our VIP long-term residents.

That's you, missy.

Save your breath.

I know what you're up to.

Your Kumbaya intrigues
might work with the others;

they're not gonna work with me.

Good.

We can cut the crap.

Jesus, you're one
lonely, miserable bitch.

Oh, there she is.

Now get the hell
out of my room.

Don't you ever get tired
of being so goddamn bitter?

I want to help you, Sally.

This coming from the woman
who shoved me out of a window.

Okay.

That's on me.

I'm sorry.

Truly.

But it's no good for either
of us to dwell in the past.

Honey, you haven't been the same
since John left.

Watch it, Iris.

I can still take an ice pick
to your throat, anytime.

You loved him.

The only way
you knew how.

He turned his
back on you,

after all you'd
done for him.

I know how that feels.

You don't know a damn thing
about how I feel.

About my pain.

The only thing
that takes the edge off

is when I can
pull people under with me.

Make them feel
one ounce of what I feel.

Then I'm not alone.

But don't you see?

All those people you've
been killing, it's...

they're just Band-Aids.

What if I knew of a
more permanent fix?

You could have
something long-lasting.

A future.

What future?

I'm dead.

You've been living
in a 1994 world.

Times have changed.

The Cortez is proud to offer
free Wi-Fi now in every room.

Here's your ticket
to adventure.

Go on, open it.

What am I supposed
to do with this?

We can't change
the past,

but you can choose to
move forward and live.

So what?

I-I'm gonna be
the ghost in the machine?

That's exactly
what you're gonna be.

Okay, look.

I loaded it up for you

with Twitter, Instagram,

Facebook. You
don't need to be

out in the world
to be a part of it.

In the modern age, no one
ever has to be alone.

Even for a second.

There's a whole world out there
waiting to embrace you, Sally.

Come on, all you have
to do is dive in.

(phone vibrates)

¶ ¶

LIZ: Sally took to the interwebs
like a fish to water.

It was as if everything she did

shot out a pulse
of electricity.

And from all the corners
of the globe,

people responded.

(phone vibrates)

In droves, tingling for more.

A rapt audience
welcoming her with open arms,

desperate to connect,
hanging onto her every word.

Suddenly the girl no one wanted
became the belle of the ball.

She could say anything,
bare her soul.

Her lone voice weaving into
its own cyber subculture.

A safe harbor.

¶ It spits you out
when you desire ¶

¶ Conquer it
to feel you're higher... ¶

As she basked
in sublime adoration,

being numb to the world
finally lost its appeal.

¶ ¶

Another?

How long have
I been dead?

It's over a year now.

How long
does it feel like?

Like I don't exist.

Is that why you've been acting
out and killing those people?

I had no idea
that my business was dead.

(chuckles)

Oh, it's not dead.
It's dying.

Well, what have
they done with it?

Factories?

The stores on Rodeo,
Fifth Avenue?

Well, they shuttered
the couture division.

The perfumes and sunglasses are
keeping everything else afloat.

And you do matter
in the world, you know.

As long as it lives and
your son thrives, you matter.

I'm grateful for
what you've done for him.

Thatcher is one of the best
schools in the country,

and Ojai is year-round divine.

You should let him
come and visit you.

No. No.

This is no place
for a young man.

(chuckles)

All of the death here.

I don't want him to
be poisoned by it.

Even if it breaks my heart
that I can't see him.

May I make a proposition?

You're beautiful, but
you're not my type.

(laughs)

The trapped spirits
in this place

who aren't in perpetual misery
understand that

if you want to feel the magic
of cause and effect,

you have to have a purpose.

Your fashion house was iconic.

You're iconic.

My fashion house was
headed for disaster

long before I
"disappeared."

I haven't had
an original thought in a decade.

This is California!

The land of
reinvention.

I mean,

look what this place
did for me.

Where does everyone
even think I am?

Rumors abound.

Rehab, madness, illness.

Each one more scandalous
than the last.

Frankly,
it's marvelous publicity.

People love a mystery.

Sketch.

Create.

Be part of the world again.

Running a fashion house
is more than sketching.

More than any other business,
a line needs a face.

(chuckles):
Okay.

I was a salesman
in another life.

In this one,
I'm the mother of style.

Cut me and I bleed Dior.

And you don't have
to be dead, you know.

So you decided to hole up
in your happy place,

like Howard Hughes
without the crazy.

(whispers):
We can do this!

LIZ: Stepping into
the boardroom atop a pair

of five-inch Guccis, well,

that teaches the authority
this business needed.

You have to balance your frame,
consider each step,

and lean into your momentum.

You wind up elevated.

Gentlemen, I'm Liz Taylor.

Mr. Drake has sent me here

to lead this company
into the future.

Until Mr. Drake
has the courtesy

to appear before
this board himself...

Mr. Vice-Chairman,
I can assure you that Will Drake

has granted me full authority
to act on his behalf.

Well,

I don't accept
your authority.

MAN: I'm afraid
you'll have to.

I've met with Will Drake
at the Hotel Cortez,

and it's official.

Ms. Taylor here
has total authority

to speak on his behalf.

You're fired.

(chuckles)

Now, gentlemen,
I know something about rebirth.

Listen and learn.

WILL:
No! I can't do this!

There's inspiration
all around us.

All you got to do is look.

LIZ: I left Will alone
to work his sorcery,

and he left me to mine.

¶ Nights in white satin... ¶

We cast his absence as mystery.

He gave very little of himself
to the public,

and demand steadily rose.

His presentations were
exclusive and exotic.

Very few invitations,
very unusual models.

All cameras and phones
were banned,

which only made
word of mouth stronger,

interest more intense.

Art deco once again
became all the rage.

¶ Beauty I'd always missed ¶

¶ With these eyes before ¶

¶ Just what the truth is... ¶

(applause)

I should've been
jubilant in our success.

But instead, I felt lost.

¶ 'Cause I love you ¶

(chuckles)
¶ Yes, I love you... ¶

It was a night like this
when I first saw Tristan.

Just promise me you'll
keep an open mind.

Please, remember
to whom you speak.

Now, what are we doing here?

I know how much
you miss Tristan.

And wherever he is,
I don't know

why we haven't seen
hide nor hair of him.

And if anybody can reach him,

this woman can.

Iris...

did you get me a psychic?

(door opens)

LIZ:
Oh.

(door closes)

Billie Dean Howard,
this is Liz.

Liz, it is so good to meet you.

(chuckles) I've seen you
on the side of a bus.

(chuckles)

Billie Dean has
her own show on Lifetime.

She helps the bereaved
communicate with

their dearly departed
loved ones.

I'm impressed.

I'll be honest.

Your establishment
is fairly notorious

among the paranormal communities
being a bit of a hot spot.

(chuckles)

I was thinking I might want

to do an episode
of my show here.

(chuckles)
But today,

I am here for you.

Hmm.

Hmm, so many voices.

It's a very noisy hotel.

(faint, echoing chatter)

Oh, I feel something.

A very masculine energy.

Restless.

He's here.

Spirit,

we seek you with loving hearts
and open minds.

Lift the veil that separates
our world from yours.

Speak to us.

Tristan.

Hello.

(gasps)

Tristan,
I'm here with Liz.

She misses you very much.

Is there any message
you have for her?

What?

What does he say?

He says...

"No."

What do you mean, "No"?

What-what no?

He doesn't want to talk.

What do you mean?
He's talking to you.

He doesn't
want to talk

to me.

He's been here
all along.

And he's choosing not to talk
to me... (sniffles)

'cause he blames me.

I'm the cause of his death.

My love for him killed him.

Love doesn't kill.

I've been around a lot longer,
and let me tell you something.

Believe me, love kills
a lot more than hate.

Thank you for coming anyway.

Be strong.

I know you know how.

(whispers):
Yep.

No. This isn't right.

No, wait.
(sighs)

Maybe it wasn't Tristan
you were talking to.

He remembers the pancakes.

You made them for him
every Saturday

and let him watch cartoons
all morning.

Who's Donovan?

What?

Donovan isn't here.

No, no, no.

Donovan is someplace else.

Someplace very beautiful.

He says it smells like pancakes.

Your pancakes.

He says it's always
Saturday morning where he is.

He says...

"I love you, Mom."

LIZ: Even in my grief,
I was happy for my friend.

As for me, I felt
any chance at love was over.

But life can surprise you.

Especially new life.

(screaming)

And love?

Well, that can take many forms.

After I made peace
with my son Douglas,

I never really expected
to see him again.

So I was delighted when
he brought Janice to meet me.

Janice was the daughter
I always wanted.

And I was the mother-in-law
she'd always hoped for.

(baby crying)

In Isabelle's face,
I saw the future.

She was being born into a world
just a little more accepting

than the one
I had been born into.

And maybe, just maybe,

I had a little something
to do with that.

A little kindness, acceptance.

That transformed me in ways
nothing else ever could.

I never thought life
could be this good.

Or that it might end.

Well, shit!

Are you sure?

I'm sure.

Well...

the doctor is sure.

And there ain't nothing
they can do about it?

It's... past the point
of treatment.

Which is probably for the best.

'Cause...

I would hate
to lose my hair.

Baby girl,

there just might be something
that I can do for you.

(scoffs)
Huh?

What, turn me?

Hell, I don't even
like my steak bloody.

But that's never been
an option for me.

You know that.

And at this point
in my life,

I can't imagine killing
in order to live.

So have you told
your kids yet?

With any luck,
I won't need to.

They can just keep
visiting me here.

(camera clicking)

(chuckles)

(chuckles)

I'm gonna cut to the chase.

I am the first woman in the
world to have prostate cancer.

Uh, the doctor told me
it's spread to the spine

and there's nothing to do.

We'll spend whatever we have to.

One call and I can get you
to the best doctor in the world.

Oh, it's too late.

And I don't want to spend

my last days wasting away
in a hospital

with a catheter up my dick
and poison in my body,

so...

But who will take care
of us?

You can't leave us alone.
I won't.

That's why I called you all
here today.

Now, I have provided you
with various weapons.

Take two. They're small.
(chuckles)

Uh...

hack me.

Strangle me.

Bludgeon me.

Surprise me.

MS. EVERS:
I think I can speak for
everyone here when I say

that we've all grown
rather fond of you.

We can't possibly
murder you.

SALLY:
It's not murder.

She wants to be reborn.

("The Ballad of Lucy Jordan"
by Marianne Faithfull playing)

You're my family.

I want to be with you forever.

¶ The morning sun ¶

¶ Touched lightly on
the eyes of Lucy Jordan ¶

¶ In a white suburban bedroom ¶

¶ In a white suburban town ¶

¶ And she lay there
neath the covers ¶

¶ Dreaming of
a thousand lovers ¶

¶ Till the world
turned to orange ¶

¶ And the room went
spinning round ¶

¶ At the age of 37 ¶

¶ She realized
she'd never ride ¶

¶ Through Paris
in a sports car ¶

(door whooshes open)

¶ With the warm wind
in her hair ¶

¶ So she let the phone
keep ringing... ¶

LIZ: It was the first time
I'd seen her since she died.

Only in that moment
did I realize

just how much I'd missed her.

How did you know to come?

You were always
my fondest creation.

¶ He's off to work ¶

¶ And the kids
are off to school ¶

¶ And there were
oh so many ways... ¶

I wanted to be here
to help you transition.

¶ For her to spend her day ¶

¶ She could clean the house
for hours ¶

¶ Or rearrange the flowers ¶

¶ Or run naked
through the shady street... ¶

One last time.

(exhales)

¶ At the age of 37 ¶

¶ She realized
she'd never ride ¶

¶ Through Paris ¶

¶ In a sports car... ¶

¶ ¶

TRISTAN:
Those things'll kill you.

I don't understand.

You wouldn't talk to me.

I thought you hated me.

I love you.

And, darlin',

you had more living to do.

I couldn't get
in the way of that.

(laughs)

Oh, baby...

you are to die for.

May I help you?
I have a reservation.

Room 44.

The Woo room.

That's where Billie Dean
says he died.

Oh, that room is booked.

Booked by me, three weeks ago.

Under Rhodes, Ashley.

My Amex app
says the charge has cleared.

You have my money.
I want my room.

Fine.

It's all my fault.

I thought that Billie'd be
free advertising.

You know, people love
a good ghost story.

Well, you were
right about that.

Yeah, but this is getting
way out of hand.

She's had
three prime-time specials.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait, he's trying
to tell me something.

Mr. Woo doesn't pay for what?

IRIS:
I mean, don't get me wrong.

I don't mind having this place
alive with guests.

It's just
those freaks and weirdos

who want to be
plowed by a ghost.

The people Billie attracts,
they're just...

It's bad for our brand.

Why don't we just
shut the place down?

Will Drake doesn't need
the money anymore.

'Cause this place needs life.

It's a hotel, not a cemetery.

The living give the spirits
trapped in this place

a connection
to the outside world.

IRIS:
John.

I was wondering when
you were gonna arrive.

We've missed you.

It's good to be back.
And you're right.

I don't like her
coming around.

Pestering,
asking questions.

She still trying
to contact me?

Every year on this date.

John Lowe.

The Ten Commandments Killer.

Show yourself and bear witness
to your crimes.

Shit.

Call her.

Check her into my room.

But get her here quickly.

It's only three hours
until sundown.

We are standing in room 64
of the Hotel Cortez,

where the notorious
Ten Commandments Killer lived

when he terrorized Los Angeles
many years ago.

John Lowe may be the most evil
and dangerous spirit

with whom I have ever attempted
to make contact.

I will need all of my skills
and powers of concentration

to achieve
this unprecedented interview.

(sighs softly)

(static hums softly)

You wanted to talk?

I want you to talk.

My name is
Billie Dean Howard.

All we know about John Lowe
is what the police have said.

I'm giving you a chance now
to set the record straight.

(chuckles softly)

(mouthing)

What do you
want to know?

Why don't we start
with your family.

Did they know

you were a
serial killer?

What'd you get Holden
for dinner?
It's dog again.

JOHN:
They came to understand

that I was
cleaning up the world,

in my own way.
ALEX: Goddamn it, John.

We talked about this;
I was not gonna target people

who do not deserve to die.

Now, once you went on the lam,

your wife and two children
were never seen again.

ALEX:
Come on.

Where are you going?
He's hungry.

I know how to walk into
a hospital

and not get noticed.

Did you kill them?

I will admit,
I failed them.

Daddy?

There's only one
thing left to do.

Turn myself in?

We have to go home.

JOHN:
Scarlett was right.

The Cortez was home.

We'd all been reborn there,
in one form or another.

Well, except for her.

There was a still a chance
for our daughter

to grow up somewhere else,

to have some shot
at a normal life.

But it needed to be
away from us.

Liz knew just the place.

The Thatcher School
would be host

to more than one young refugee
from the Hotel Cortez.

BILLIE:
So you sent your daughter away,

but lived with your son
and wife in the Cortez,

back in L.A., where you were
still being hunted.

It's hard to provide for your
family when you're on the run.

There were more opportunities
in Los Angeles.

(grunts)

¶ ¶

(tires screeching,
sirens wailing)

OFFICER: Stop! John Lowe,
you're under arrest!

I have to make it back
to the hotel.

(gunfire)

(wheezing)

Let me...

I want to die inside.

I'm sensing something
about your wife and son.

I can hear the undercurrents
from the spirits,

but they are too afraid
to speak clearly.

Why is that?

I don't want to talk
about my family.

Well, if you don't want
to talk about your family,

then give me something else.

What is the significance
of October 30?

Why is it the only day
I feel your presence here?

Well, it's Devil's Night.

And if you leave your
camera crew behind,

that I can show you.

¶ ¶

BILLIE:
The walls. They're screaming.

I was in a house once
just west of here.

And I could hear the spirits
in the walls like termites...

or bats in the attic.

But it was nothing like this.

This is like being
in a rock concert of the dead.

Well, come on.

Let me introduce you to some
rock stars of the dead.

(jazz music playing)

Oh, Jeffrey,
you and your damn straws.

Come on. Put your drink down
and come and dance with me.

I don't dance.

Look at me.

Neither do I.
(laughs)

John! Oh!

Jeffrey, look who's here.

John is here.

He's the greatest
of them all.

Are you blushing?

I told you, if you like a guy,
you have to talk to him.

You think any of
those young men

would have come over to work
at my house if I didn't have

the guts to approach
them in the world?

(scoffs)

Well, those guys in Milwaukee
must have been pretty desperate

to go home with Jeffrey.

The guy can't get two words
out without going flush.

(laughs)

Oh, my God.

You're John Wayne Gacy.

And that's Jeffrey Dahmer.

Are you frightened?

Oh, no.

No, I just surround myself with
the white light of spirit and...

to keep myself protected.

Sure thing, sweetheart.

Yeah! Let's get
this party started!

I need a beer.
I'll drink whatever's cold.

Jesus H. Christ on a horse, what
the hell is this shit music?

Aileen Wuornos.
(record scratches)

("Fade Into You"
by Mazzy Star playing)

Richard Ramirez.

I'm married, but
we live apart.

And that's the Zodiac.

I'll get you a drink.

¶ I want to hold the hand
inside you... ¶

Uh, hey.

I'm Aileen.

¶ I want to take a breath... ¶

You have
the prettiest hair.

Man, what I wouldn't do for
a head of hair like that.

It's like... it's
like Farrah Fawcett.

Reminds me of my-my
ex-girlfriend.

(laughs)
Oh, I feel ill.

All these dark spirits.

It's... (chuckles)
it's a little overwhelming.

Just drink that.
It'll relax you.

MARCH:
Absinthe!

Our customary libation.

James Patrick March.

Oh.

Oh, I feel the violence in you.

So many spirits
who you snuffed out.

I can see all the moments
when they crossed over.

Tell me,

what is that like?

Is it a moving picture, like
so many cells on a film reel?

Or more like a kaleidoscope
of human suffering?

It's not a picture.

It's a feeling.

Like a mist on your face
on a cold morning.

You can't see it in the air,
but you can feel...

the wetness.

Yeah. I can feel
the wetness

with you so close to me
right now, Johnny boy.

(both laughing)

I got a seat
right next to me.

(panting)

(chuckles)

(laughs)

So this is Devil's Night.

My Murderers' Row!

How odd it must be
to see all of us then

in what appears
to be the flesh.

Flesh enough to eat,

drink,

feel our grip on your arm,

our breath on your skin.

(shouts)
No!

(laughter)

How's that white light
holding up, Billie Dean?

BILLIE:
I don't want to be here anymore.

When does
the party favor arrive?

MARCH:
John's taken care of that.

Grab your weapons,

ladies and gents.

No.

(chuckles)

No. (screams)

Can't throw a killer party
without a little killing, right?

(panting)

JOHN:
Don't worry, Billie.

I think you're gonna like
living here.

Here's the deal.

No more specials or interviews

or books or tweets
or casual conversations

at cocktail parties
with Shirley MacLaine

about this hotel.

This place is dead to you.

We will become a myth,

which is what we should've been
left to do anyway.

What if I don't?

AILEEN: One sure-as-shit thing
I can tell you

about being murdered: it hurts.

And we like to make it last...

(drill whirs)

None of you can
leave the hotel, so...

you can't hold me
to my word, huh?

RAMONA:
But I can.

BILLIE:
What the hell are you?

You're not dead.

I'm a creature

who kills to live

and who drinks a body's worth
of blood a day

and doesn't think twice about

who I'm sucking
it from.

So, if you even let out
a whisper of a word

that sounds
like "Cortez,"

I'll find you
and drain every drop of life

from your skinny ass.

RAMIREZ:
I can't be the only one here

hoping you say no.

(drill whirs, laughter)
No!

No! No!

¶ ¶

Did you take care of
what you had to take care of?

Yeah.

Look at you, Scarlett.

Where'd my
little girl go?

You're just saying that 'cause

I'm the only member
of the family that ages.

(chuckles)

Thanks for coming.

Tonight means a lot to me.

For us

all to be together.

Even just for a few hours.

Of course, Dad.

Means a lot to me, too.

Go on.

Get into bed with them.

Not you?

I'm getting
a little big

for the family bed.

I'll take the chair.

I'm afraid to
fall asleep.

As soon as I close my eyes,

it'll all be gone
for another year.

It's okay, Daddy.

Rest.

¶ ¶

(static crackles)

(jazz music playing)

¶ ¶

What brings you
to the Cortez?

Tomorrow's Halloween.

This place is supposed
to be haunted, right?

I'm meeting
some friends here.

No, you're not.

I'm not?

No.

You have a jawline for days.