1
I knew the very
first moment I saw her,
she was pure helium.
Here, hot on the resting place
of the restless dead.
The crossroads of demise
as well as sex.
Where death begets life,
and life begets death.
May I throw your case,
Mademoiselle?
Merci.
"Out of Character"
by the Eulogies playing
So out of character
Lying there lifeless
I just wanna see your eyes
It's really not what
but why
Wherever that you went
that day
I'm sorry
that we let it slip
Away
Away
How then can I explain
Whoa.
Without a word...
Do you mind if we stop
and take a selfie?
Oui, Mademoiselle.
Whoa!
Lying there lifeless
I just wanna see
your eyes
It's really not what
but why
Whatever that you took
that day
I'm sorry that we
let it slip
Away
Away
Away
Away
Mademoiselle?
Do you have an address?
Huh?
To where you are going?
Oh.
I just wanna see your eyes
I just wanna see
your eyes
I just wanna see...
Mother, so weird.
"Transport."
What the hell, Mom?
Uh, this place.
Do you know it?
Here? Are you sure?
I guess so.
Mom always was
one for adventure.
A storm is tossed
Upon the sea
Whose eye
Is stained with tears
A wretch hell bound
And bent on blood
The makings
Of the fearful spheres
The tide it stole
Away her grace
The depths
They wouldn't claim her
Toil begat
By a father's blood
This path
Was laid before her
Redemption bought
By beacon's blood
Applied upon
The darkness
The pact embraced
The road unsought
The maiden of death
Won't be unmarked
Isn't it beautiful?
Is something wrong?
I'll just be leaving now.
Wait, seriously?
Can you at least help me
with all my bags?
I'd rather not.
Okay.
Not such a generous tip then?
As you wish.
Okay, I guess the French
are rude.
Hello?
Hello?
Is anybody home?
-Good afternoon.
-Oh!
You scared the sh--
Sorry, uh...
I didn't see you there.
Miss Bellerose, I presume?
Allow me to introduce myself.
I am the Vicar of Borley.
Vicar, please.
Please...
be seated.
Sorry.
I'm just a little nervous.
Uh, tired.
I think I'm jetlagged.
Sorry.
I'm listening now.
Um, I'm Lucy.
Miss Bellerose,
you will notice
that we conduct ourselves
with a little bit
more civility here,
perhaps a modicum of decorum
you're not yet used to.
Yes, sir.
I would like to first express
my deepest condolences
for the passing
of your great-uncle,
The Count Rose du Sang.
I can assure you
he was an exemplary pillar
of the community.
Thank you.
I didn't really know the guy.
Regardless,
it's quite fortuitous
that you arrived in time
for the interment tomorrow.
I trust you'll get some rest
and come amply rejuvenated
come morning.
Yeah, that
would be proper, right?
What am I saying?
He's my uncle.
Yes, of course, I...
I will be ready
bright and early.
Before you retire
for the evening,
I'm afraid there's a few rules
that we
quite stringently enforce
here at Castle Borley.
Yes, of course.
The upper floors
are strictly off-limits.
They're currently
under renovation
and can prove to be
quite dangerous.
Yeah, I wouldn't want
to get hurt
or fall down a rabbit hole.
Next, please be aware
that there are others
residing here,
and it would behoove you
not to disturb them.
It definitely seems big enough.
I can keep my own space.
Do not feel compelled
to return each utterance
with a banal affirmation.
Now best if you remain here
on the bottom floors only.
And, Lucy, any uninvited guests
are severely frowned upon.
Understood.
The chambermaid has provided
sustenance for you
in the pantry,
fresh bed linens
in your bed chamber.
Your room is the furthest
due westward
on the tertiary floor.
I bid you adieu.
Thank you.
Oh, and, Miss Bellerose?
As Vicar of the consecrated
grounds here at Castle Borley,
my ancestors and I have
dedicated our lives
to preserving and upholding
the reputation of your family
for generations.
So, please, do not make me
regret that now,
starting with you alone.
I'll do my best
not to disappoint you.
Oh, shit, I almost forgot.
Hi, virtual friends.
It's me, and guess what?
Surprise!
I'm in Paris!
Well, close enough.
Bad news? My uncle died.
I know, I know.
But it's okay. He was
a really distant relative.
Good news I'm in Paris!
Mom's not here yet,
but when is she ever?
Seriously, Mom,
if you see this,
will you please let me know
when you're gonna get here?
Wait till you guys
see this place.
It's straight
out of a fairy tale.
I'll try to post more soon.
Au revoir, Lucites.
Oh.
Note to self,
need to check on Internet
for personal sanity.
In the darkness I see
I moved
What has passed
Was never meant to be
But my arms still ache
From the punches
that I've thrown
And my soul still bleeds
From the sorrows
that I've known
And though
I've never complained
About being alone
Somehow I still cast
A night shadow
For I cast a night shadow
As I bask in the light
of the moon
I called out,
searched the ocean
Ow.
I see you've found
everything all right.
Holy crap.
What is it with you people?
I'm sorry, ma'am.
Shall I draw you a bath?
No. No, it's-- it's fine.
-Um, I'm...
-Lucy.
Yes, I know.
Um, I'm fine if I could
just get some rest.
Of course, ma'am.
I'll leave you.
Creep show!
Mm.
Must... take a shower.
Oh, shit.
What the hell?
If you'd be so kind
as to join us
for the funeral rites.
I'll be down soon.
I just need some privacy
to shower and get dressed.
Please, make haste.
You guide me
along the right path
for the sake of your name.
Even when I walk
through a dark valley,
I fear no harm,
for you are at my side.
Your rod and staff
give me courage.
You set a table before me
as I watch my enemies.
Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle?
Do you have some light?
Sorry, I don't smoke.
Of course you don't.
With a face like that, though,
I don't blame you.
You're not from around here,
are you?
Is it that obvious?
Uh, my name is Jean-Pierre.
You can call me J.P.
Bit more American style, no?
And they say
the French are rude.
Well, J.P., the devilishly
handsome gravedigger
at your service.
That's an actual job?
Round here,
quite a lucrative one, yeah.
Wait,
you knew I was American?
So it is that obvious.
Well, without the handgun
and the Freedom Fries,
it was extremely hard to tell.
I'm Lucy.
Lucy? Well, that's a name
you don't hear that often.
Well, my mom wanted
to call me Desi,
but I'm not a boy, so...
You certainly are not that.
Uh, Lucy Bellerose.
Bellerose.
Rose like the Count?
-Are you... ?
-Yeah, he's my uncle.
Sorry, he was my great-uncle.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Madame,
I didn't know.
No, please, it's okay.
He was always
just some blood relative
living an ocean away
in a castle.
To be honest, growing up,
I used to call him
Count Dracula.
Well, he was
the Blood Rose Count.
No, no, no-- Dracula,
like, uh...
um, Frankenstein
or Wolfman.
Never mind.
Oh, but you know
the story, right?
Of how the Count
got his namesake?
No, actually.
It is said
that a king of France
when he was
still a young prince,
fell in love with a rose
farmer's beautiful daughter,
his only child.
When the prince's grandmother,
the queen, found out,
rather than have
her lineage spoiled
with that of peasantry,
she ordered the girl
to be immediately killed.
In her grief,
the farmer's wife
also killed herself,
leaving the farmer
completely alone.
They were buried together
amongst the roses
of the French countryside.
Oh, my God.
Wait, it gets better.
It is said that
around their graves alone,
the roses turn a dark blood red,
instead of
their usual pastel colors.
When the grieving prince became
old enough to be the king,
he awarded the farmer
part of his kingdom
and the title
of Count Rose du Sang,
Count of the Blood Red Rose,
your very forefather.
Although grateful,
the farmer never did get over it
and vowed to avenge
his wife and daughter's death,
cursing your family forever.
Are you serious?
That's horrible.
Oh, my God,
you are so full of shit.
I'm sorry. Forgive me.
Uh, but-- but, wait.
But my name is Bellerose.
I actually always wondered
about that.
Bellerose,
a beautiful rose,
just like you.
What's to wonder?
Look, uh, let me make
my cruel joke up to you
and bring you
to some local wine tasting.
I could use a friend.
Wait, but what's the legal
drinking age around here?
You do realize
this is France,
yes, my silly little rose?
But of course!
Um, you, uh...
You know where to find me,
so au revoir.
Hello?
Don't be afraid.
Uh, excuse, please.
Is the man
of the house around?
Excuse me?
Abel Baddon of Dauphine.
Insurance salesman.
Would love to have a chat
with the man of the house.
I hope it's not life insurance,
'cause you just missed it.
Out on an errand, is he?
He's dead.
Oh... my.
Might I come inside
for a moment?
I'm quite weary.
I seem to have gotten myself
turned around at the crossroads.
Sure.
I'm Lucy.
Enchanted.
It's a beautiful home.
Thanks. Kind of just
figuring it out still, but...
Hi. Um, this is...
Uh, wait, I actually
never got your name.
Mary.
Mary. Mary, this is...
Abel. Abel Baddon.
It's a pleasure
to meet you both.
Sorry, I'm terrible with names.
I've made some food, Lucy.
I'm sure that Mr. Baddon
can join us,
but you know how the Vicar
feels about uninvited guests.
I'm so sorry to hear
of his passing.
Oh, not him, unfortunately.
My uncle.
Oh, of course.
My apologies.
Lucy, might I ask you
a question?
It's a sales pitch of sorts.
Sure, but I'm saving my money
for the Champs-Elyses.
Fair enough.
You see, I fancy myself
somewhat of a philosopher,
and in my line of work...
Well...
what do you think
of your uncle's passing?
Not sure I follow.
Do you believe in an afterlife?
In good deeds, a soul,
that sort of thing?
I guess I never
really thought about it.
But to answer your question,
who has time for an afterlife
when we're so busy
living this one?
Precisely.
Precisely. Everything else
is just distractions.
The only thing that really
matters is the here and now.
Right?
Sure, I guess.
I mean, really,
think about it.
If once you die,
you're gone,
then the only thing
of real consequence
is what you do right now.
There is no right
or wrong.
Only one life
to do as you please.
So we should want to live
as long as possible
on our own terms.
Please, no need to fill
her head with such rubbish.
I beg your pardon.
Look, Lucy,
have you ever done
anything really bad?
I mean, evil?
Something only you know about,
but occasionally
rears its ugly head?
I know I certainly have.
Is it safe to say
that you have some secrets?
Or regrets?
Now let's just say
that none of that matters.
How liberating would that be?
Enough, Mr. Baddon.
I'm afraid I have to ask you
to finish your meal
and leave at once
before the Vicar arrives.
Oh, he's not home, is he?
Okay, I'll bite.
So what then?
Well, then, Ms. Bellerose,
you would be all-powerful.
You could do anything you want
with no consequence.
Death would be your only enemy.
As long as you were alive,
you would no longer
have to live in fear.
Mr. Baddon, I beg of you.
I'm sorry.
My manners.
It's just a spiel
that I'm perfecting
to sell more policies.
Thank you very much
for the meal, Miss Mary.
And, Ms. Lucy,
you will think about it, yes?
Sorry. I don't plan
on dying anytime soon.
No one ever does.
Don't mind him, Mademoiselle.
-The Vicar?
-No, Mr. Baddon.
No, I know. I mean, you said
he was gone for the day?
I'm afraid he's the only one
ordained in the whole parish.
He will be gone
most of the day.
Cool.
Excuse me.
Thanks for lunch, by the way.
Relax.
This is my house.
All right.
I know when you guys
see this,
it won't be live,
but I'm exploring
this really creepy castle
that my family owns.
They told me
not to come up here.
Ooooh!
If this is my last post,
please...
Hello?
Is anybody there?
It's Lucy.
Whoa.
Ugh!
-What's the matter?
Stay away.
Lucy, please. I only came back
to get my hat.
The chambermaid asked me
to come look for you.
She was certain you strayed
somewhere
where you shouldn't have.
I said back away!
Very well.
I'll just give you
a moment to calm down.
Lucy, I heard a scream.
Are you all right?
I couldn't find anyone,
so I just let myself in.
Uh, it's...
That's okay. I just...
I just finished burying your...
I mean, I'm off work.
I wanted to take you up
on that drink offer.
Sounds like you could use one.
Yeah. Yeah, I need to get
out of here for a minute.
Are you sure you're okay?
Yeah! Yeah, um...
I just spooked myself.
I do it a lot, actually.
I'm a glutton for punishment.
Um, so I just need
a minute to change.
You ready?
So what do you feel like?
Mm, I'm
still adjusting.
No, I mean, uh, wine, beer,
coffee, tea?
Or me?
We gotta work
on your jokes.
No, seriously, two things.
First, it's Europe,
so we drink at all hours.
And, two, it gets dark early
this time of year,
so let's make it a quick one.
That's what she said.
-Hmm?
-Never mind.
J.P., can I ask you something?
Sure, anything.
Does this place
seem a little off to you?
I'm not sure I follow, Lucy.
I don't know.
Ever since I've been here,
I just felt a little uneasy.
Well, you've only been here
a couple of days.
Ah, that way.
I mean, I just...
I don't know.
Look, Lucy, I'm not gonna lie.
Yes, the people around here
are a little weird.
They're sheltered.
And there's lots
of unpleasant history here.
These families tend
to keep to themselves.
I mean, I feel
like I'm being watched, or...
I don't know. It's probably
just general discomfort.
Come here. Follow me.
Oh, my God, it's beautiful.
Come on, let's go.
Wow, it really is awesome.
Isn't it?
My grandfather proposed
to my grandmother here,
so you could say
that if it wasn't for this,
there'd be no me.
Well, I guess that
makes it even more splendid.
Naturally.
This castle, for example.
House Brandy,
it has a very dark past.
All right, let's go see it.
I guess what
I was saying earlier
is that these people just have
no social skills, you know?
Like simple conversations,
and, oh, my God,
door knocking.
They say that these houses
built a fortune
over the misfortune of others
during the Valais Witch Trials
or the persecution
of the Sortilegia.
I just keep seeing
this little girl.
-What?
-What did you say?
Come here.
Can you describe this girl?
What was that word--
Sorti-- Sort--
Sortilegia.
Where did you find this book?
In that damn castle.
You found it?
It was just lying around?
This was no accident.
Okay, come on,
you're not gonna get me
with one of your bullshit
stories this time.
Look, Lucy,
don't you find it strange
that all this wealth and power
is historically rooted
in what is essentially
a bunch of farmland?
I guess so.
Here? In the middle of nowhere?
Countess Bathory's
got nothing on them.
These people
literally flourished
off the backs
of people like me--
gravediggers, farmers,
peasants.
And by "these people"
you mean people like me.
Lucy, I didn't mean--
No, tell me first,
that word.
Sortilegia.
Those who practice
black magic.
Sorcerers, witches.
Look, Lucy, the more power,
the more greed.
This wealth paid for
in blood sacrifice.
If you were a count or a dame
back then,
you tortured people for fun.
That's what they did.
It's no secret.
Look it up.
But you don't actually
believe in this stuff, right?
It doesn't matter
if I believe it or not.
Look around.
We're surrounded by it.
Castle Borley, House Brandy,
Dauphine, all of it.
The legends are older
than the buildings.
Don't you see that once
they got a taste,
they couldn't get enough?
Innocent souls in exchange
for wealth,
power, and everlasting life.
Look, I cannot make up
for the sins of my fathers,
but I could but you a drink.
I could definitely use one.
-But the girl--
-I never actually saw her.
Now I need a drink.
You know, in all the excitement,
I forgot.
I should at least try
and call my mom.
It's okay. Your card
can help you with that.
But first a truce.
A drink?
A drink.
"In Hell
I'll Be In Good Company
by The Dead South playing
Don't mind them.
Witch's Brew.
Why not? I want
to give you a taste.
Uh, just a local beer, please.
You gotta be kidding me.
Is this for real?
Thanks.
-Cheers.
-Cheers.
So, you never told me
about the girl.
Yeah, it's weird.
It's like I can feel her.
Does she wear a white dress?
So you do know her.
A shot, please.
My life's a bit more colder
Dead wife is what I...
It's just an urban legend.
That's what people
cling to down here.
It's probably just some kid
messing with you.
Yeah, but usually folklore
is at least based on something.
It's not just legends.
It's true.
One whisky, one shot, one beer.
I see my redhead,
messed bed, tears shed...
Ahh!
Was a couple of hundred
years ago
that clergyman
shagged the head mistress,
a nun.
They had a girl child,
so they yanked her out.
Triple cardinal sins.
So they found them,
chopped them up,
and set them on fire,
just like they did
that little girl child.
Witches!
The whole lot of them.
Dead love couldn't
go no further
Proud of
and disgusted by her
Push, shove,
a little bruised and battered
Oh, Lord, I ain't
comin' home with you
Like I said, urban legend.
-Is it true?
-Ignore him.
My life's a bit more colder
Dead wife
is what I told her
Whisky, Irish.
Brass knife
sinks into my shoulder
Oh, babe, don't know
what I'm gonna do
-Not all of it.
-None of this bothers you?
Not in the least bit?
Witches, immortal priests,
black-eyed little girl ghosts?
Who said anything
about black-eyed ghosts?
Now who's making up stories?
Look, Lucy,
people are bored here.
Yes, this place
has a sordid past,
but they just need
their entertainment.
Don't take it too seriously.
-Jean-Pierre.
-What?
Uh, there has been
an accident,
one of my relative.
I should really go.
Of course.
Will you be able
to make your way back?
Yeah. I'll be fine.
Another round for her.
I-- I can handle it.
Sorry. I--
I don't speak French.
Oh.
Ah!
One beer, please.
Thank God, an American.
Yeah, I'm just here
for the Battle
of Belleau Wood Memorial.
Rumor has it there's
a Devil Dog fountain of youth.
Uh, excuse me, sir.
Can I-- Can I ask you--
Sorry, Miss America.
Semper Fi.
Proud of
and disgusted by her
Push, shove,
a little bruised and battered
Oh, Lord,
I ain't comin' home with you
My life's
a little bit more colder
Dead wife
is what I told her
Brass knife
sinks into my shoulder
Oh, babe,
don't know what I'm gonna do
Shit!
Hello?
Is anybody home?
Hello?
Hello?
Excuse me.
Sorry to disturb.
Come in, child.
Oh, my God.
Sorry.
Um, I'm...
I'm a little lost.
And drunk, mostly.
Um, sorry.
Drink.
I-- I was wondering,
actually,
if you could tell me how to get
to Castle Borley from here?
Mmm, Castle Borley.
Mmm!
The Borley curse
and it's so great.
Many centuries' wrath
it does spate.
A sign has been
half-imposed
upon our wee bloody Bellerose.
What did you just say?
From death and lust
that ne'er was born
from an unpure womb
she had been torn.
A sinner father
through time will last
till death become him
hard and fast.
I'm gonna be sick.
The demon trilogy
you must find.
Only sharpened skills
doth the curse unbind.
The Devil himself
partakes the feast.
The squinter, the youth,
and the diabolic priest.
Mademoiselle?
Good morning, Madame.
What?
Madame, your sheets.
Oh, my God.
I-- I already--
It's okay. I'll take those.
Um...
Okay. Thanks.
Can I have a moment, please?
Of course.
It's fine.
I'm not hungry, Mom.
Just come and sit here.
I'm sorry
about Uncle Ricky, Mom.
'Twas a terrible tragedy,
but what can we do?
Three funerals
in as many weeks.
I'm beginning to think
this place is cursed.
Jean-Pierre, please.
Don't.
I'm sorry.
I met a girl.
Oh, really? Tell me more.
-An American.
-Now, that is interesting.
Where did you meet her?
Castle Borley.
What?
You know about it, right?
Of course, son.
Just another place is all.
How so?
Don't know much about it really,
other than my mother
was scared to go there.
Just kid stuff.
Tell me more
about this girl.
Beautiful, headstrong,
different.
Sounds American.
I think I like her.
Sounds like you.
-Tsch!
-Jean-Pierre!
I'm sorry, Mom.
I just realized I left her alone
in a bar full
of strange men last night.
I really should get going.
Oh, off with you.
I'll phone Serrano.
Forgive me, Mom.
And, again, I'm
at a loss about Uncle Ricky.
I'll help with
the arrangements when, uh...
It's okay, son.
Life is for the living,
so go and live it.
There'll never been another
like you, Mom.
Ew, gross. What is that?
And what is he
still doing here?
Mary and the Vicar were kind
enough to offer me repose.
I'm-- I'm grateful.
Do you seriously
trust this guy?
I thought there were
no guests allowed here.
We were not going to just
let him wander the countryside.
-Morning.
-And to you, young Jean.
Might I trouble you
for a dozen roses, ma'am?
I'm not sure which color.
It depends on the intent,
now, doesn't it?
A girl, is it?
You devil, you.
Then blood red it is.
Who's the lucky girl?
It's my right, you know,
as you won't be coming
around here no more.
No one can take your place,
Miss Montee.
She's American, Bellerose clan.
Rich? Or new royalty,
I should say.
You know what they say
about boyars and ancients.
I hope not dirty money.
What do you mean?
Jean-Pierre, don't be naive.
People disappearing,
rumblings of witchcraft.
No one will even go
to House Borley no more
-'cause of its--
- Come on. Wives' tales.
And like I said,
she's American.
I'll tell you what I know.
That fire weren't
no wives' tale,
and those people really died.
The whole incestuous lot
of them, save the Count.
And the only reason
he stuck around, they say,
is by selling his soul.
Come on, Miss Montee.
Whispers unbecoming of you.
Get out of here, you playboy,
before I steal you
right back from her.
And save them lips
for kissing
that sweet mother of yours,
not rich Americans.
What are you looking at?
You work for me,
remember that.
Lucy, thank God.
I'm so sorry.
For what?
About leaving you alone
last night.
-What's that supposed to mean?
-Nothing, I just...
That I can't take care
of myself?
Because I'm a little girl?
God.
Where do you park your ego
and that big white steed?
I just meant I was concerned.
-A stranger in a...
- How is he?
Who?
The guy, the accident.
He...
He didn't make it.
I...
Oh, my God,
I am going crazy here.
I'm hallucinating,
and I'm being chased
by an imaginary girl,
and-- and I'm pretty sure
that I've been drugged
and God knows what else.
And these two
are just icing on the cake.
Lucy, are you all right?
Should I bring you
to a doctor?
That's perfect.
She finally speaks her mind,
and she needs a doctor.
That is perfect.
I...
-Are you...
-Shit!
My purse, my stuff.
Lucy, calm down.
Where are you going?
The woods. I think I left
my stuff somewhere.
Shall I come with you?
Fine, but at your own risk.
And I don't need your help.
Let's go.
Lucy!
Where are we even going?
I'm going to try
and find my things
and figure out what the hell
is going on around here.
You're not really
making any sense.
Look, I didn't mention this,
but I had an...
an encounter.
I-- I don't know.
That's the best way
I can think to describe it.
-With who?
- Some old lady.
I don't know. She--
She was speaking gibberish,
and I was drunk.
Can you even remember
anything she said?
Well, she went on
some crazy rant about a curse,
and she knew my name,
and I'm pretty sure
that she drugged me,
and she has my stuff, so...
So you are going to go to that
obviously crazy person's place
alone and just demand
your stuff back?
Why don't you
just call the police?
I can handle her.
Here. This is it.
Lucy, calm down.
Let's not make it harder
than it already is.
Hello?
I don't understand.
She's not here.
But she was here!
Huh!
Look! See?
I told you.
Where's my stuff?!
And this fucking book!
I am so sick of it!
Look, Lucy, this doesn't
prove anything
other than you were
most likely here last night.
Well, how do you
explain it then?
I wasn't that drunk.
All right, book,
you seem to be following me.
Let's see
what you have to say.
What language is this?
It appears to be several.
Looks like some sort
of instruction manual.
That's crazy.
That sort of looks
like it's Hebrew.
That is German.
-Wait, go back.
-Wait, what?
There, Latin.
I'm decent at Italian.
Let me give it a shot.
Something about "die."
Like dying?
No, like dice.
Let me concentrate.
Okay, so it's
about someone's prophecy.
No, destiny.
Uh, it's a detailed account
of something called
a black mass?
And it keeps mentioning
a Saint Walpurga.
What does that even mean?
Apparently a chosen one's
lot is cast,
and through a spell,
how do you say,
an incantation.
It means something...
"Power through the death
of the innocents,
everlasting life,"
something, something,
"consecrated ground."
Wait, what?
Okay, hang on.
This is clearly some sort
of dark ritual or something.
Knowing the history
around here,
sounds like someone is
some sort of demented hobbyist.
Why does this even matter
so much to you anyway?
Look, J.P.,
I didn't tell you this.
I've never told anybody this,
but I've always had
these dark feeling inside,
and I try to cover them up,
because they're
pretty depressing, but...
When I was a little girl,
and my mom
used to tell me stories,
I was always the one
rooting for the villain.
I... I used to make out
with boys in cemeteries.
I would try to hang out
outside of funeral homes,
hoping to see a dead body.
Am I making any sense?
Look, for years,
I've tried to put on
this perfect princess image.
I don't even fucking like pink.
But then I got here,
and then this all
just came rushing back.
What did?
I don't know. The castle,
that girl, this book.
It's-- It's wrong,
but it feels right.
And from the moment
I got here,
I had this feeling
of belonging,
like dj vu, but stronger.
And-- And I know
that my family history is here,
but it's like I knew
the layout of the castle
before I even walked
in the door.
You said it yourself.
Finding this book
was no accident.
That's why I have to figure
this out.
And I'm sorry about earlier.
I was just really overwhelmed.
No need to explain.
Devil be damned!
You're not welcome here.
Look, mister,
we don't mean any harm.
It's okay.
My uncle is the Count
from Castle Borley.
Your uncle was especially
not welcome here!
I'm glad
that slave-driver's dead.
I'll be glad when the rest
of your devil-worshiping clan's
gone as well!
Feel free to follow him
in the grave, missy!
And take your witchcraft
with you!
-Man, that was crazy.
-Right.
Where did that whack job
come from?
"And take your witchcraft
with ya."
That must have been the man
you saw last night.
No, it wasn't.
Oh, come on, Lucy,
it has to be.
Lucy, can I tell you something?
Sure.
I know we just met,
but I can't stop
thinking about you,
and it's like I've known you
all my life.
And even this morning,
I couldn't stop
wanting to see you.
Even though I represent
all that you despise?
Maybe especially so.
All I wanted
Till I became you
I'm not tryin'
I'm not
- I'm not
- I'm not tryin'
I'm not tryin'
I'm not tryin' to be
I'm not tryin'
I'm, I'm not
- I'm not
- I'm not
I'm not tryin'
I'm just kidding
You think she's ready.
Not quite yet.
She needs to get over her denial
before we can approach her.
The waxing is
not going to wait for anyone.
We already learned that
once the hard way.
She's ready
when I say she's ready.
Prepare these.
Yes, My Lord.
Sometimes you petulant fools
need to pay heed
to the proven wisdom
of a prudish old man.
I have not managed to stay
around this place this long
without getting this right
a couple of times before.
And you have not managed
it all without us.
And she's different.
We've always known
this one would be harder.
Fool.
Are you playing devil
or advocate?
Prophecy or none,
I will not so easily
relinquish my power to a woman,
much less a child.
You don't say
the same of me?
Everyone knows
this is House of Borley,
despite the name on the deed.
Take heed, sinners.
It's your game, Vicar.
Always has been.
Oh, Lucy, I think I lov--
Lucy?
Lucy?
Lucy!
Oh, I can't believe this.
Hi.
It's okay.
I won't hurt you.
What's your name?
Do you live
in the castle, too?
Lucy?
Hey, come here.
It's okay.
I won't hurt you.
What's your name?
Have you been following me?
Little rose
right off the vine
Picked from God right
off the vine
Careful not to touch
the thorn
Now she's ready.
What's the matter?
Don't you want it?
It's beautiful
just like you.
Who are you talking to?
A little girl, silly.
Hey! Come back!
Come here, little cutie.
-Come out, come out,
wherever you are!
Bloody bones
on the first step.
Can you hear him?
Lucy!
Damn it.
It's nothing.
Bloody bones
on the second step.
You didn't even
tell me your name.
Little girl!
What am I doing here?
Lucy?
Can you hear him?
Bloody bones,
dragging chains.
Bloody bones getting
closer still.
Bloody bones says...
Lucy.
Please be seated.
Miss Bellerose,
I asked you
not to come up here,
yet here you are.
In fact, you've done nothing
but mock us your entire visit.
I--
I'm not here to admonish you.
Quite the contrary.
Where others see rebellion,
I see independence
and initiative.
I don't understand.
You may find this
hard to believe,
but you were invited here
for a very specific purpose.
The time has come to bring you
into the fold.
Who is that little girl
and what have you done to her?
She's my daughter.
Rose.
And in a way, Lucille,
you are, too.
But I thought
priests weren't allowed to--
They are not.
Do not get distracted.
What others call selfish,
we call survival.
You don't blame the wolf
for devouring the fawn, do you?
Lucy, look at me.
This house, this power,
everything,
we are in danger
of losing it all.
That's where you come in,
but it comes at a price.
I want no part of this,
no matter what this is.
Unh!
We're not exactly asking,
little one.
Besides, you're already
part of this.
Enough.
What he says is true.
It is a family tradition,
your family.
Our family.
Let's just say we've used up
our free passes,
but you?
Ohh. You.
-Let me go!
-No!
The life of just one innocent
extends ours immensely.
The first one
is always the hardest.
After then,
you'll crave it.
Aah!
Unh!
Santa Lucia...
By faith in he
who brings the light,
we swear allegiance
and bequeath unto thee
this precious rose.
Vanquish her innocence.
Okay, one more,
then it's lights out.
Okay, Lucille?
-Okay, Mommy.
-Pinky swear?
"Once upon a hill up high,
there was a castle
near the sky.
Herein lived an evil man,
ruling with a heavy hand.
Full of ego and pride,
against God's will,
he took a bride.
She bore to him
a nephew son,
and so the family curse begun.
The love for flesh
was oh so strong,
and the son
tradition did carry on.
But his own child
was never born
when for his sins,
she did burn.
But selfishly,
he continued on,
taking lives to save his own.
Until one day,
the family spared
by a newborn rose so fair.
Only she and she alone
her father's sins can atone.
But the decision to fight
must be solely hers,
or else the family
be forever cursed."
Lucy!
Lucy?
Is that you?
Oh!
Lucy!
Huh?
Lucy, do not deny
your true nature.
It's okay, Lucy.
We're family, remember?
Go to hell!
We already have, dear.
Lucille, we can grant you
a full and complete life,
if you'll only trust in us.
Lucy?
Lucy?
Shit!
Aah!
Oh!
Saint Lucy?
Lucy, so nice of you
to join us.
Shh, child.
Join us.
What's she saying?
Please tell me
what's going on.
Please, oh, my God.
I'm falling apart.
It's okay.
She's not herself right now.
She calls out
to many before you.
Kneel.
Eat of my flesh.
Drink of my blood.
No!
Silly girl.
Don't make me angry.
Won't you just go?
Leave my house.
O enlightened one,
thrown from Heaven
for being brave and just,
we invoke your assistance
in our time of abjection.
We will not forget
the sacrifices that you made,
and so unto you
make this sacrifice
in your honor.
You want me to...
I can't!
Put your sister in him
out of her misery.
She's not my sister!
See? It is meant to be.
Do not disobey.
So you want to play, huh?
You little bitch!
I want you
out of my house,
or so help me God,
I will kill you.
Right spirit.
Wrong lady.
Lucy, stop resisting.
You know deep down
how this all plays out.
He gave His only begotten son,
and He's not selfish?
But we take the weak,
the downtrodden,
and the lonely.
And we are the evil ones?
Then so be it.
We are the evil ones.
Defy Him Lucille.
Defy Him!
Let the girl go!
Lucy, she may appear innocent,
but that little girl
is the only thing between you
and life immortal.
If I could promise you
a long life
without remorse,
without guilt of any kind,
wouldn't you take it?
That girl has already died.
It is only the act
you need to do.
God damn it,
it isn't working!
Silence.
Lucy,
we kill the pure of heart
in order to replenish
or home,
our families.
Your family has been
doing it for generations.
It's not about the wealth
or the power.
Although that's nice, too.
It's about having complete
reign over these weak fools.
The constraints of morality
do not bind those
who do not believe
in its very principles.
We will not be held
accountable
by He whom you call God.
Like Saint Lucille,
I am blind to the sins
of the father.
Like the bearer of light,
I will fight my own way.
The God of man
does not possess me.
In nomine Patris.
Et lo spiritus malus.
For I am she that cannot
be possessed.
I am the Alpha and the Omega.
The end all, be all.
You.
Actually...
You did it.
But I'm not quite sure
of the innocence.
Sure.
I'm Lucy.
I said back away!
A storm is tossed
Upon the sea
Whose eye is stained
With tears
A wretch hell bound
And bent on blood
The makings
of the fearful spheres
The tide
It stole away her grace
The depths
They wouldn't claim her
Toil begat
By a father's blood
This path
Was laid before her
Redemption bought
By beacon's blood
Applied
Upon the darkness
The pact embraced
The road unsought
The maiden of death
Won't be unmarked
Bonjour, Mademoiselle.
Ah! Ah!