1
Lydia?
Is that you Lydia?
Lydia!
Lydia.
Master Stearne.
This is the man.
Ezekiel Fletcher.
Ezekiel Fletcher.
It is said abroad in the parish
that you are given to the
reading of dangerous books.
Enticing to the practise of
the hidden mysteries of magic
and of enchantments.
No, no, no, Sir!
That's not true.
You are summarily accused
of sorcery, witchcraft
and necromancy.
No, no, no, Sir!
That's all lies.
See, like his master Beelzebub,
he is a consummate liar.
As we watched you from
amongst the trees,
I, the captain and his
men here all plainly heard
you calling for
your daughter Lydia.
And yet, it is known
abroad that your daughter
is dead these past nine months.
Sir!
Furthermore, since her
passing, Lydia has been seen
walking here in Jacob's Wood.
What greater proof of sorcery
does any God-fearing man need?
Why Sir, Lydia
is my cat's name.
I named her thus to keep alive
the memory of my daughter.
By my troth tis true.
Why you are a slippery fellow.
Be not deceived by
this wily gentleman.
Through his practise
of the dark arts.
His familiar may appear
at his side in many forms.
Be it dog or cat, owl
or bat, toad or rat.
Yet ye may be certain
that it is his daughter
risen through his lord
Satan's unholy power.
Sir, you do belie me.
I'm innocent of this charge.
Confess!
Confess man that you may
be free of hell torments.
Please I'm innocent.
See, as he lies to
our faces, he prepares
a restorative ointment
for his familiar.
Without it, the ghouls
corrupt flesh will rot
and turn to dust as
all godly flesh must.
Why sir.
That is my supper.
Oh, is that so?
Well I will not keep
a man from his supper.
Come, let us see you dine.
You see?
He will not stomach it.
It is as I said, an unholy sow.
Here's a sorcerer.
String him up!
No!
No! No!
No! No!
Behold, I destroy this
instrument of your wizardry.
That bereft of it's succour
your familiar may dwindle
and turn to dust.
Sir.
I beseech you.
No! No!
No!
Now, join your master in hell.
Sir, I beseech you!
Please!
You wanted to see
me, Professor Edwards?
Yes, yes, I certainly do.
Sit down Isabelle.
Take a look at this.
You recognise it?
Yes, it's the
Stearne Cauldron.
So named because it
was amongst the effects
of John Stearne,
associate Matthew Hopkins,
the so-called Witch
Finder General.
It's in the civil war collection
because that's the time
they were operating,
but the cauldron is in
fact much older than that,
quite possibly Celtic
or pre-Roman period.
Hmm mm.
Are these pictures from
when it was discovered?
Yes.
And no.
Take a closer look.
My goodness!
This isn't our half
of the cauldron is it?
It's the missing half.
Well it might be.
That's what I want
you to find out.
The photos and the
letter were sent to me
by a chap in Shropshire,
one Karl Scott-Morton.
Bit of an eccentric I think,
apparently doesn't have a phone,
communicates only by letter.
Anyway it seems he was
doing some renovation work
to his stately pile
and discovered it
buried beneath the
floor in his cellar.
At least that's what he says.
He may, of course, be aware
of our half of the cauldron
and knocked up a fake in the
hope of raising some funds.
Do you think it's genuine?
Well I'd like to of course.
The fact that it's still
partially in the ground
suggests it might be, but...
You only have to look at the
British Museum's experience
with the Risley
Park Lanx to realise
there are some awful
crooks out there.
Yes, but the lanx
was completely lost
and then rediscovered.
We at least have the half
of the cauldron already.
Indeed we do, which should
give you a distinct advantage
when you come to look at
Mr. Scott-Morton's half.
You want me to go?
Absolutely.
You are an assistant
curator now and besides,
I have to deal with
some tedious financials
for one of our benefactors.
I don't think I'm ready
for such a responsibility.
If I didnt' think
you were up to it,
I wouldn't ask you to go.
I have taken the
liberty of booking you
onto a train up to
Shropshire tomorrow.
You've got the rest of
the day to get ready.
Okay, thank you.
Hi there.
I need to go to the Hall please.
Scott-Morton's?
Yes, that's it.
Yeah, everyone
knows the big house.
Isabelle, I presume?
Hello, Mr. Scott-Morton,
it's very nice to meet you.
Karl, please.
Come through.
My wife Evelyn is
in the drawing room.
The professor's given
me some of the background,
but how did you come
across the cauldron?
Well we've been undertaking
some renovation work
of the house, part of
which was the installation
of a new gas main.
Once we were excavating for
it, we uncovered the cauldron.
Well I was aware of the
Stearne Cauldron of course.
But not wanting to
risk damaging it,
I thought it best
to give you a call.
I'm looking
forward to seeing it.
Good!
I hope you'll be
comfortable here.
Tomorrow you can make a start
removing it from the ground.
But for now, we
better introduce you
to our daughter, Scarlet.
Scarlet!
Well she's around
here somewhere.
The trouble is that this
place is too damn big.
Why don't I show
you to your room dear.
The house was a girl's
boarding school many years ago.
I'm afraid we haven't managed
to restore it entirely
back to its former glory
as a country house.
Hopefully, all that
will change soon.
Here is your room dear.
I'm sure you'll be
very comfortable.
What beautiful sketches.
Did you do these?
Yes, they're mine.
I used to be a theatre
costume designer,
oh many years ago now.
I was rather good.
Of course I don't get much
chance to do that sort of thing
anymore, just the odd bit
of sewing and dressmaking.
Nothing more.
Not enough to pay
the bills sadly.
It's more of a hobby of mine.
Anyway, let me show
you the bathroom.
Now you'll need a torch at
night, so I put one in your room.
Not all of the house
has been rewired
so we haven't quite got round
to putting in all the lighting.
There's always so much
to do, isn't there?
It's this way.
Do you come from a
performing background Isabelle?
You've a lovely
face, for the stage.
I've played the piano a bit.
Oh how nice, I love the piano.
Was that on stage?
No, that was in church.
You must have seen
the organs in the Hall.
My great grandfather
was very keen on them.
You don't strike me
as the religious type.
Oh I'm not, really.
I used to enjoy it
when I was younger,
but when my parents divorced,
I didn't want to go anymore.
How long have you
lived in this house?
Forever.
Our family bought
the house in the 1800s.
I'm sure a house of this
age must keep many secrets.
Oh yes!
The Atterley family
who built the house,
they were secret Catholics.
Throughout the reformation,
they refused to
renounce their faith.
I'm really looking forward
to seeing the cauldron.
Forgive me but I had
expected the professor himself
to come here, given the
importance of the find.
But, I'm sure you know
what you're doing.
If we can say it, it will
make a tremendous difference
to the much needed renovations.
But I'm sure the importance
of it is not lost on you.
We're very glad...
May I be excused.
Of course darling.
Thanks Mummy.
Scarlet?
Scarlet.
Hello.
Scarlet?
You dance beautifully.
Mm hmm.
Scarlet.
Was that you walking
about last night?
Walking about?
Are you imagining things?
Last night I was sleeping
peacefully and now,
I'm trying to dance, peacefully.
Sorry, I didn't
mean to interrupt you.
But, I do, I think
you dance beautifully.
Well, there it is!
As you can see, once
we realised what it was
I stopped the men from
digging any further,
for fear of damaging it.
Yeah, you did the right thing.
Any idea how much
it might be worth?
We have such a small income
to maintain the Hall.
Sometimes we even have to sell
vegetables to the local inn.
I hope you're aware that
sometimes these things
don't have much
commercial value.
Oh, you must think
I'm as green as grass.
Museums will pay
handsomely for such items.
Besides, as your university
already has the other half
I would have thought it would
be of particular value to you.
Well let me get it
out of the ground first.
I'm sure Professor Edwards
will be happy to
discuss it with you.
Alright.
Now, is there
anything else you need
or can I just leave you to it?
No.
I'm happy to make a start.
Good.
See you later.
Hello?
Hello dear.
I thought you might
like a nice warm drink
to help you sleep.
Thank you Evelyn.
That's really kind of you.
Just put it on the side,
I'll wait for it to cool off.
Oh its fine just as it is.
It's a tonic my dear.
I made it specially,
just for you.
That's it, all the way down.
I can take the mug back with me.
Bonne nuit.
So, what does
your boyfriend think
of your interest in all this?
I don't have one.
I did, but we never really
spoke about all of this stuff.
Oh to be like you.
Young again.
Still, you can take your pick.
A caved Carthage, where a
frying pan of abominable loves
cracked about me on every side.
I was not in love yet, yet
I longed to be in love.
I was looking for
something to love.
I was in love with love itself.
Have you ever read Saint
Augustine's Confessions?
Um, no, I can't say I have.
Well you should.
There's a copy in the library.
This is interesting.
There seems to be an
original inscription
on the side of the cauldron,
but someone's scratched it out.
Really?
I'll leave you to it.
Isabelle.
Look you've been
working so hard,
why don't you take
the night off?
That's okay.
I'd like to get everything
finished as soon as possible.
Oh no, not at all.
I'm sure you're making
excellent progress.
Look, there's a lovely
pub in the village.
I think I'll just...
No.
I insist.
Hello there.
What can I get you?
Vodka tonic please.
Here you go.
That'll be three 10 please.
Am I right in thinking
you're Isabelle?
The one doing some
work up at the Hall?
Yeah, that's right.
How did you know?
I'm psychic.
Famous for it round here.
Really?
Absolutely.
It's a gift.
Comes from working in a pub
where everyone talks about
what they're doing and somehow
I know what's going on.
I see.
Who told you?
Robert the gardener.
Makes sense, I didn't think
it would be Mr. Scott-Morton.
No, he's not the
pub going type.
We hardly ever see him in here.
I'll put these round
the back Veronica.
Thanks Robert.
So how long you here for?
I shouldn't think much longer,
I've fairly much done
what I came here to do,
so I'll be heading off
in the next day or two.
That's a shame.
Nice to see a fresh
face around the place.
So, what we talking about?
Nothing.
Isabelle here was just saying
how she's leaving
in a day or two.
Oh well I better seize my
chance and buy you a drink then.
What you having?
Oh,
I'm okay thank you.
Usual is it?
No, I better not.
I promised mein fuhrer I'd
help him move some stuff later
and I don't want to
keep him waiting.
Have you worked for the
Scott-Morton's for long?
'Bout seven years now, since
they lost the last gardener.
What you mean, lost him?
Some sort of
mysterious accident.
Shall we get a table.
So what happened?
No one knows.
There was no witnesses.
What we do know is he was
using his quad bike to move
some wood and he knew that
land like the back of his hand.
But somehow, he ran
into a barbed wire fence
ripped his throat out.
He bled out in Jacob's Woods
trying to get back
to the village.
No!
It was Karl that found him.
Sitting on his quad bike, stone
dead, engine still running.
He called the police.
That's awful.
You're not pulling my leg?
No, you can ask Karl.
No I don't think I will.
What you gawping at?
Go on, mind your business.
Oh I better get a shift on.
Do you want me to walk you back?
No, I think I'll
stay and have another.
Fair enough.
I would if I could.
Well it's nice meeting you.
Hope to see you around.
Bye.
Can I get you another?
Yes please.
Here you go.
So what is it exactly
you're doing up at the Hall?
Oh I'd love to tell
you, but I don't think
Mr. Scott-Morton
would appreciate it.
Fair enough.
How's Scarlet?
She's fine.
You know her then.
Yeah, she's the only
one of the Scott-Mortons
who ever came in here.
At least she did when she
was with her boyfriend.
And since they split up,
we hardly ever see her.
How about you, boyfriend?
No.
Not anymore.
Hmm, sounds ominous.
Do I sense a story there?
There is, but it's
not very exciting.
It's a bit silly really.
Well, you don't have
to tell me that either
if you don't want to,
but believe me,
working in this job,
I've heard it all before.
Well, this is not a
big secret or anything.
I had a strict Catholic
upbringing and I know it's not
the way these days, but I've
always been of the belief
that sex should be
reserved for marriage.
Richard, he's my ex, he
couldn't cope with that, so.
I see.
Yeah, he went along
with it all at first
and then as time went by,
he found it more
and more difficult.
Until, in the end it
came down to ultimatums
and neither of us
would compromise.
Well, it was
probably for the best.
I mean, I admire you for
sticking to your guns.
The world would be a lot
simpler if more people did that.
Hey wait.
I want to talk to you.
Listen!
Don't go in there.
Bad things happen to
people who go in there.
Get off me!
Shut up.
I warned you not to come here.
But no, you wouldn't listen.
Let go!
You're hurting me.
A lot worse is
gonna come to you.
Unless you come
with me right now.
See, my dad he...
I told you before.
I'd mark you if I saw
you on my land again.
Argh.
Now go!
Thank you.
Don't mention it.
I abhor such crass behaviour.
Who was that?
Oh, no one.
Local idiot.
I've had trouble with him
on the property before.
Do you like my perfume?
Sorry?
My perfume.
Do you like it?
Yes, it's lovely.
Oh Scarlet, have
you seen my phone?
I can't seem to
find it anywhere.
No.
I haven't.
Okay, well if you see it,
will you let me know?
Of course.
Right, let's look at the
ramblings of Saint Augustine.
Haven't retired
from a scholarly life in Oxford
to the County of Salop,
my custom of an afternoon
was to take the airs
and walk abroad.
Familiarising myself
with my new surroundings.
On one such excursion, I
found myself on the fringes
of Jacob's Wood, a particularly
wild and ancient place,
grown all the more so
because local men
fear to venture there.
I have ascertained this because
there are some persistent
rumours of witchcraft
which have led
to this wood being
shunned by all.
In this age of reason, such
beliefs seem to me ridiculous.
As I walked along the
tangled fringe of the wood
I fancied I heard curious music
faintly drifting on the wind.
Intrigued, I stopped
and listened.
The thin, piping melody
seemed to be emanating
from the dark
boughs of the wood,
and being aware of
the local reputation,
my curiosity was pricked.
I determined to find its source.
I struck out into the wood,
which having being left
abandoned and uncoppiced
for many years
was dense and overgrown.
Eventually, I came
to a small clearing
and as I stepped into it,
the melody was no more.
As I turned to leave,
my foot struck an object
protruding from the earth.
I would not have
remarked upon it,
but for it made a
singular metallic sound.
Clearing away leaves and other
detritus, I soon concluded
I had stumbled upon
something quite striking.
I toiled to free the
item from the earth
which held it in
a vice-like grip.
Having only my bare hands and
sticks, such as I could find,
it took me some time
to lever the item free.
It was nothing less
than part of a cauldron.
Returning to the
house with my trophy,
I set about scraping
the soil and grime
of centuries from it.
The item was bronze
and of ancient origin
covered with Brythonic writings.
Over the next few weeks,
I set about translating
them as far as I was able.
The cauldron was no
household cooking pot
but a religious item, used
in a ceremony of rebirth.
The story revealed by
the antiquated text
was that of a dread
queen slain in battle
who was placed in the cauldron
along with the blood
of her enemies.
Through its magical
power, she rose again.
The name of this queen is
lost, as at a later date,
someone had been at
pains to grind her name
and likeness from the cauldron.
In an act of further vandalism,
the Latin word profanum,
or unholy, had been etched
into the sides of the vessel.
Other words too, but
as they crossed into
the missing portion, I was
unable to decipher them.
At the time I took
this to be the work
of some dull mechanical,
afraid of his own shadow.
But as the days passed,
I too began to fear.
At first, I was plagued
by restless fevered nights
in that cholerical space
between sleep and waking,
I often fancied I could
hear that same melody
as I heard in Jacob's Wood
floating throughout the house.
Several times I rose from my
bed and searched the house
in an effort to
locate its source.
Always without success.
Until one such night,
I left my bedchamber
and walked along
the long gallery.
Around which, in
swimming, grainy darkness,
a thousand fanciful fiends
danced in my fevered imagination.
I stopped, determined to put
such thoughts from my mind.
It was at that point, the
figure of a deathly pale woman
appeared in front of me.
I stared at her bleached,
cavernite face etched
with a hunger deeper than just
a need for mere sustenance.
Then, in an instant,
she was gone.
By morning, I was
convinced my encounter
with the awful woman was the
product of a fevered mind
and attempted to put
it from my thoughts.
But several days later
I was at the piano
and without realising it,
I found myself playing
the eldish melody
I'd first heard
floating on the
wind in the woods.
As I looked up from
the keys I saw again.
I was startled and turned away.
But when I looked up again,
the apparition was gone.
I know that I can no
longer stay in this house.
I am resolved to
depart forthwith.
I leave this account
of the occurrences here
along with the musical
notation of the melody
that accompanies the
spectre as a warning
to all those who come after me.
God save us all.
Jeremiah Cane, 6th April, 1807.
Well, you
are making progress.
Yes, it's out
of the ground now
and I've made a preliminary
examination of the piece.
Is it as I thought?
The missing half of
the Stearne Cauldron?
Well, I have to say the
prospects are looking positive,
it all seems to check out.
But the only way to
know for sure is for me
to take it back to the
university and match up...
Oh no, no, no.
We can't let you do that.
It stays here.
Mr. Scott-Morton if
you want us to verify...
Possession is nine
tenths of the law.
If I let you take it away,
I might never see it again.
You might keep it for your
collection, I know you want it.
But others, may pay more for it.
Really, that's not...
If it's so important that
you verify it with your half
then have it sent here.
You can look at it, satisfy
yourself it's the real thing.
Then we can talk money.
But until you, or somebody
else pays me for it,
it's not leaving this house.
Well, this hasn't
happened before.
I will need to ring
Professor Edwards...
Ring whoever you have to.
But unless you, or somebody
else pays me for it,
that cauldron does not
leave this property.
Let me know what you decide.
Hello again.
How are you this fine day?
I'm okay thank you.
On my way in to the village.
You're not going
down to the pub again?
No, to make a phone call.
I'm sorry I left early,
I heard what happened.
You must have been terrified.
Didn't expect that of Tom.
You know who that lad is?
Yeah.
Remember I told you about
the previous gardener
died in that weird accident.
That was Tom's dad.
That's why he was
looking at us like that.
Well you can imagine,
whole episode really
messed him up pretty well.
Of course I'm not his favourite
person, I took his dad's job.
And he's always had it
in for Karl, blames him
for his dad's death because
it happened on Karl's land.
I see.
I thought there was
some history there.
Oh yeah.
Tom will tell anyone who
listens that Karl's to blame
for his dad's death.
By now you must have realised
you don't want to get
on the wrong side of Karl.
Yes, I gathered that.
He can be quite...
Forceful.
He's got a reputation locally.
You just be careful around him.
You've seen what he can do.
I will, thank you.
Take care.
Hello, Professor?
It's Isabel.
No, I've got it
out of the ground.
Well I think so.
Metallurgically
speaking it's a match
and the inscriptions
are the same.
Yes, the ageing seems
genuine, non-chemical,
but this piece is
going to be different
as it's been in the ground.
Yes, well that's
why I'm calling.
We have a problem.
Well what does he
think we're gonna do?
Steal it!
Ridiculous.
Alright Isabelle, you're
the one on the ground.
What's your instinct.
Oh I don't know.
Well, if you're sure.
Alright, I suppose so, I'll
get it sent up immediately.
The sooner we know one
way or another the better.
Alright I'll see
you in a day or two.
Good luck.
God, the world really is full
of money grabbing idiots.
What are you doing?
Why are you creeping around?
Do yo like me
dressed like this?
Seen enough?
Are you blushing?
I'm going to bed.
Oh it's cute when you do that.
Did you think that was funny?
Have you been
having nightmares?
Bad dreams are
common in this house.
I thought I saw
someone in my room.
Why don't you get into my bed.
You could sleep with
me if you wanted.
Have you been seeing
shadows in your room?
The best thing to help you sleep
is for me to tell you a
nice, scary ghost story.
I used to love them
when I was growing up.
Come here.
I'll tell you a story.
It's a story about a girl
just like you.
She was in a house
with lots of rooms.
There were lots of hidden
places, just like here.
She was an inquisitive girl
who wanted to know things.
Clever.
Just like you Isabelle.
I think she even looked
a little bit like you.
She was all alone
in the big house.
Trapped.
Like a bird in a cage.
She lay in bed scared because
there was no one out there.
She heard noises too.
And one night, she decided to
look, because she was brave,
just like you.
She went all on her own
to see what was out there.
Because there was
something out there.
Something evil that
hated the girl.
It watched her as she walked
all alone in the dark.
It could see her, but
she couldn't see it.
Isn't that scary, Isabelle.
Imagine how that would feel,
walking all on your own
in the dark, with
someone behind you
but you didn't know
that they were there,
ready to jump on
you at any moment.
You couldn't do
anything about it.
If it wanted you, it
could just take you.
All over you.
That empowering evil...
Imagine how that would feel.
Irresistible.
Isabelle.
Good morning.
Did you sleep well darling?
Like a lamb Mommy.
And how did
you sleep Isabelle?
I was dreaming a lot.
Nice ones?
A bit mixed, to be honest.
Do tell us about them.
It's all a bit of a jumble.
I'll go.
Tell us what you can remember.
It's amazing how revealing,
even the fragments
of a dream can be.
Yes, do tell us
what you dreamt about.
I can't really remember.
And as I said, it's
a bit of a jumble.
That's a shame.
Never mind.
Perhaps you'll have
the same dream again.
It's here!
The other half of
the cauldron is here!
Come on!
You can help verify
our half now.
Karl, she hasn't even
had her breakfast yet.
I'll move it to the cellar.
Well, there's not
much doubt about it.
Congratulations
Mr. Scott-Morton.
You found the missing
half of the cauldron.
You can see the two halves
are a very good match.
The cut seems to have been made
with a very sharp
bladed instrument.
Even allowing for
some distortion
to the pieces down
the centuries,
you can see they're two
halves of the same piece.
Excellent.
That's excellent news.
Now the two
halves are reunited,
you can see the
original inscription.
The original stuff is some
sort of Brythonic writing
which is beyond me, but this
later graffiti is interesting.
See here,.
Very creepy.
Really?
Loosely translated, it
means unholy necromancer.
It sounds like nonsense to me.
Well of course it is.
But it ties in with John
Stearne and a document I found
in your library, from the 1800s.
I meant to mention
it to you earlier.
It's a journal entry from
someone who stayed at the house.
It seems they were
frightened off by a ghost.
There are no
ghosts in this house.
I would know.
Now, isn't it time
you rang the professor
and gave him the news.
Of course, I will.
But I need to finish a full
examination of the piece,
brief him properly and
then he can give you
an accurate idea of the value.
It's getting late now,
I'll do it in the morning.
Well, you'd better be
up bright and early then,
hadn't you?
Isabelle?
You alright?
Actually, I've been
thinking about what you said.
Oh yeah.
I think I've annoyed Karl.
What happened?
It's ridiculous really.
I think I saw something
in the house last night,
or at least someone.
Maybe I dreamt it.
Anyway, I told Karl about it
and he instantly got annoyed.
That's odd.
It's probably best
I don't say anymore.
You're likely to
think I'm an idiot.
I don't want to
get you involved.
I'm going to try
something tonight.
Well if you need
any help, just ask.
I still feel bad about
leaving you alone in the pub.
Don't feel bad about
what you did Robert.
You can get on
with your work now.
You're through
to Professor Hugo Edwards,
Head of Research,
Antiquities and Artefacts.
Just leave a message
and I'll get back to you
as soon as I can.
Hugo.
Are you there?
It's me.
Listen, you're going to
think I've taken leave
of my senses...
I'm coming back today.
I'll call you again later.
Please be there when I do, okay.
I'm going back to the
house now to get my things.
I've got to get out
of here right now.
There's a train in
a couple of hours.
Isabelle.
I wonder if I can
have your opinion
on something I've been making.
If you have a moment.
It's in the kitchen.
Won't take a minute.
I've been working
on a warm presse.
Thank you.
Tastes good.
I know you think you
saw something last night.
You seem quite
agitated about it.
This drink will help
soothe those nerves.
It's a combination.
Apple, opiate honey, camphor,
exotic syrup, black seeds.
I can give you the
recipe if you like.
I saw her.
I know you're hiding something.
We're all just little souls
carrying about a corpse.
Karl.
Let me go please.
I won't say anything.
I just can't be tied up.
No, that's not gonna happen.
You see, you know too much.
What do you mean?
Do you mean that girl I've seen?
Yes.
The Dark Lady of the house.
Besides, from the moment
you stepped into this house
you were never
going to leave it.
If you don't let me go,
you'll never get money
for the cauldron.
Money!
It wasn't about money, it was
always about the cauldron.
The Dark Lady needs it.
Her father, the necromancer,
used it to raise her
from the dead, to restore
her failing flesh.
Since that imbecile
Stearne put it beyond use
all those centuries ago,
she has become a shadow
of her former self.
But now, and in no small
part thanks to you,
she can be resurrected.
Once restored, she
will pass on her gift
to her faithful retainers.
Gift?
Immortality.
You see, compared with that,
any amount of money
is insignificant.
I'll do whatever you want.
Please let me go.
Please.
Yes, you will do
whatever I want.
But you won't be
getting out of here.
You see, there's one more
thing I want from you.
Karl come back!
Karl!
Karl!
Scarlet.
Scarlet help me.
Scarlet!
Scarlet!
Karl.
Karl.
Let me out please.
No, not yet.
I still need your assistance
with one last task.
Scarlet!
Scarlet.
Help me please.
My daughter is certainly
not going to help you.
The Dark Lady tried to
pass on the gift to her
but presently her
powers are weak.
Scarlet is not yet an immortal,
but with your help
she will be so.
I was delighted to
learn from Veronica here
that you were saving
yourself for marriage.
Virgin blood is one of the
most important elements
in the necromancer's art.
Essential for the
restoration of the Dark Lady.
Your devotion will
soon be rewarded.
Hold her down.
What are you?
No, you can't be.
How did you get here?
How did you get out?
Daddy.
Oh.
No.
Daddy!
What did she do to you?
Shut up.
Help me.
Shut up.
Is this what you're looking for?
Well you better come
and get it.
That's right.
Run.
Run little bird.
I'm coming to find you.
I can hear you.
I can hear you breathing.
Where are you?
Run Isabelle!
Get away!
Alright Isabelle.
Open the door.
What you did is
okay, I understand.
We can do what we want now.
We can be together.
It feels good to be like this.
You'll like it.
I just want to taste you again.
Just a little bite please.
It won't hurt.
I promise.
Open the door you bitch.
You murdered my father.
Don't!