Damien (2016) s01e04 Episode Script

1 Previously on "Damien" [Tires screech.]
Help! I blame you for those deaths, the evil you felt that night.
[Window shatters, women scream.]
ANN: It comes from inside of you.
You showed him the shrine? How did he take it? He'll be back.
That's three dead by freak accident.
It's a holy trinity.
It's Kelly's notebook.
She must've been working on some kind of religious story.
[Dog barks and snarls.]
[Gunshot, dog whimpers.]
We've been thinking it's time for a change.
Troy will take over.
ANN: There are very mysterious forces at work.
They can't be manipulated.
They operate according to design.
[Fizzing.]
[Water trickling.]
[Water splashing.]
[Exhales deeply.]
[Water dripping.]
[Thud.]
[Gasps.]
[Knobs squeak.]
[Sighs.]
[Water dripping.]
[Thud.]
[Water draining.]
[Whispers.]
Jesus.
[Squish.]
[Roars.]
[Screams.]
[Gasps.]
- [Water dripping.]
- [Exhales.]
Ugh.
[Gurgles, bubbles.]
[Inhales sharply.]
[Water drips.]
HANNI EL KHATIB: Dog right on the floor You want me to fight for something That you clearly don't want no more I ain't trying to walk that line with you baby, I'm not No, in case you were blind and you haven't seen the tears Then I guess I'll stop [Water drips.]
[Water drips.]
- [Exhales sharply.]
- [Razor clatters.]
[Train wheels rattling, brakes squealing in distance.]
[Exhales sharply.]
[Rumbling.]
[Squeak.]
[Clatters.]
[Squish.]
This will certainly make me think twice about wearing my necktie again.
How did you get this? Ann Rutledge left it in my bathroom.
I thought I warned you about her.
I made a mistake.
I dropped my guard.
She used me.
Used you? How? To kill Troy Hendrie.
Are you saying you're somehow responsible for his death? It's complicated.
Son, I know we've lost touch through the years, but even I can see you're a mess.
Why? What's troubling you? You'll think that it's crazy, that that I'm crazy.
Nothing surprises me anymore.
What exactly did Ann tell you? I'm the Antichrist prophesied in the Book of Revelation.
[Laughing.]
I'm not making this up.
I know Ann is challenging, to say the least, but this takes batshit crazy to a whole other level.
Forget about her.
I'm worried about you.
You need some help.
Please see someone.
Lean on me all you want.
And whatever you do, stay far away from that woman.
[Indistinct conversations.]
[Telephone rings in distance.]
[Static hisses.]
[Static hisses.]
[Roars.]
[Door opens.]
- Yo.
- [Door closes.]
Perfect timing.
You went shopping without me? Got you some fresh batteries.
You know you don't have to keep checking up on me.
I'm not.
I got some news.
[Sighs.]
Collodion Collective wants to meet with you.
The photography co-op? Yeah.
I sent them your portfolio.
You know I'm not much of a joiner.
I know, but hear me out.
With editors, right, even Ceci, we've always been on a leash, beholden to their corporate interests.
Comes with the territory.
Well, the Collective is photographer-owned.
It's completely autonomous.
They want your point of view.
If they let you in, you broaden your reach by a mile.
If they let me in? Yeah, well, they have to approve of you in person.
I can't do a dog and pony show right now, Amani.
Come on, man.
You can use the win right about now.
[Knock on door.]
[Whistles.]
[Door creaks.]
Detective Shay.
From the other night? I remember.
What can I help you with? I just wanted to come by, check on you, - make sure you're all right.
- [Door closes.]
I'm fine.
Good.
I heard about the thing in the subway last night.
It's a good thing you weren't killed.
It looks like I should be asking about you.
Yeah, do you know, there was someone killed in the subway, though.
Yeah, and he heard about that after he pulled the kid off the train tracks.
Saved his life.
Who are you? A friend.
Do you have a name? What can I do for you, Detective? Well, I got a whole bunch of questions about the, uh, taxicab incident that you were involved with.
And I have some information about your assailant.
I thought maybe you could come down to the station, we could talk about it.
Shouldn't take too long.
Whatever I can do to help.
I'll catch up with you later.
AMANI: Sure thing.
You got some big balls, pulling that kid off the tracks like that.
I just did what anyone else would've.
Yeah, well [Coins jangle.]
most people, they'd like to think they'd be the hero.
But in that moment of truth, they're more concerned about saving their own skin.
It's a shame about that other guy, though.
[Coin clinks.]
What happened? Well, some guy got his tie stuck in the escalator.
Couldn't yank it free.
[Coin clinks.]
Pulled his face right into the machinery.
Ripped it wide open.
[Coin clinks.]
You want anything? Corn chips? Twizzlers? Mm.
[Beeps.]
[Whirring.]
[Flap thuds.]
Yeah, broke his teeth - [Plastic bag crinkling.]
- chewed off his nose [Sighs.]
severed his carotid artery.
Blood everywhere.
It was a mess.
You know it was right about that time you saved that kid.
I saw some of the commotion.
Mm.
How'd you know him? Who? Escalator guy.
I didn't know him.
Troy Hendrie.
Wall Street player.
Armitage Global.
Mm? I pulled the security tapes in the subway station.
It was pretty clear you were chasing him.
I was just running to catch the train.
Oh, yeah? What train? Where were you going? I'd really like to help you, but I just don't know anything.
See, here's what I'm struggling with.
In the last few days, you've been in very close proximity to a few, uh oh, I don't know, what do I call 'em? Unexplained deaths? Four, to be exact.
And that's a shitload of wrong place, wrong time.
So why don't you sit down? We have a lot to talk about.
I'm not going to mince words.
There's a void here today.
We all feel it.
We're all stunned and confused.
In all that confusion, let's not forget about what's really important Troy, and all that he gave.
Ann? Would you like to say a few words? Um John and I have, um, been around the block a few times.
We're at that age where we're losing some of our dearest friends, people we've known all our lives.
But so many of you are so young.
I can tell by looking around this room that this is the first tragic death you've faced.
I remember when I was told that my husband and daughter were killed.
I was I was 20.
My whole world fell down.
The only thing that got me through that was people reaching out.
That's the only way we get through times like these.
Compassion heals all suffering.
You never fail to surprise me.
We've seen a lot of people come and go over the years.
Nature of the beast.
Pardon the pun.
But you and I are still here.
Perhaps we'll be the last ones standing.
Damien said you left this in his apartment.
I had nothing to do with that.
Things are reaching a critical point.
We can't afford to fall into separate camps.
Perhaps we should get used to sharing the stage.
What are you proposing? You've got Damien.
I have everything else in place.
We need to work together, not against each other.
We need to trust each other.
I couldn't agree more.
Igor Reneus.
You and Kelly Baptiste paid him a visit.
Why? She was doing research for an article.
Around the same time that she died in her "accident" right outside of your apartment, I might add he was mauled to death by a pack of wild dogs.
The cab driver who hit Hermon Saroyan? He swerved to avoid a wild dog.
I don't know what you're up to or how you do it, but you're puling some really freaky shit.
I may to be able to prove it, but I know you're responsible for those deaths.
Get up.
Wanna show you somethin'.
[Door opens.]
[Indistinct conversations.]
So last night, I'm walking down the hall just like this, when out of nowhere, a Rottweiler must've weighed 90 pounds jumps on me, tries to take my arm off.
Ooh.
Careful.
You don't wanna walk into that, get it on your shoes.
Can you believe it? I was in the E.
R.
till 3:00 a.
m.
22 stitches.
They did say there was no, uh, permanent nerve damage, though.
The dog was not so lucky.
[Lights clank and click.]
[Electricity humming.]
[Faint hiss.]
Well what the hell? He was trying to kill me, so I blew his head off.
Good thing he didn't go for my shooter hand, though.
[Inhales deeply.]
I would've been gone.
[Exhales deeply.]
Scary thing about this hallway there are no cameras.
[Sighs deeply.]
Uhh! Oh, yeah.
Come on, try something.
Give me the chance.
Leave me alone.
That professor, your dog attack, the taxi nothing to do with me.
Let me tell you how this plays out with guys like you, how we handle it.
Now, I know you're a piece of shit, but I can't prove it.
So I keep my eyes on you.
Person of interest.
And I keep you here all night for questioning, kick you free when you're exhausted, and then bring you back tomorrow and the next night, and all next week.
After a while, you've got a shadow.
Always right over your shoulder.
One night, you're driving.
There's sirens in the mirror.
Pull over.
Busted tail light, expired tags.
Mm.
I'll find somethin'.
And you're pissed 'cause I'm crawling up your ass.
Agitated.
And I ask to see your license, and you reach over to get your wallet.
Boom! [Chuckles.]
Just I thought I saw a gun.
I feared for my own life.
But you, no one will miss an asshole like you.
Trust me you don't want to do that.
Are you threatening me? People who come after me, they don't fare so well.
You've seen enough to know.
Very weird stuff happens around me.
Not to me.
Never to me.
To others.
Can't explain it.
You think my wallet's a gun? Your pistol's likely to blow up in your face.
So you're the roadrunner, and I'm the coyote? Is that what this is? I'm just a guy living his life, and you're just a weak-ass cop with nothing but a handful of piss.
I'm a war photographer, remember? Mm-hmm.
I've been in the shit.
More than you ever will.
You wanna play the cowboy? Go ahead, pull your gun.
Yeah.
I didn't think so.
[Pats arm.]
Hey, Sherlock Holmes, you know who seems to have all the answers? Ann Rutledge.
She has a room full of my childhood possessions in her house, behind a secret doorway in a bookcase.
Oh, so she's creating all these deaths to make you look guilty? You're the police.
You figure it out.
[Phones ringing.]
[Indistinct conversations, police radio chatter.]
[Conversations continue.]
What's he doing here? [Whispers loudly.]
The Destroyer! You let him in?! He is the one who follows me in darkness.
He is the serpent! He needs to stop running.
It's time to confront this head on.
What did you say? He urges me and tempts me.
He is the lie! Hey! Uhh! [Grunting.]
- MAN: Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! - [Man shouting.]
- That's enough! - Hey! Don't! - Get off! - [Man whimpering.]
Get down! Hands behind your back! Hey! Don't! Don't! Don't! Hey, watch Uhh! [Women screaming.]
[Stabbing.]
Uhh! Uhh! Uhh! [Whimpering.]
[Scissors clatter.]
[Grunts.]
[Screaming, gasping.]
MAN: [Shouts indistinctly.]
Get him up here! [Gasping, clamoring.]
[Screaming continues.]
[Clamoring continues.]
The Beast.
Mr.
Thorn's work is brilliant.
There's no question about that.
But we do have some concerns about him professionally.
Is this because he didn't show up to the interview? [Sighs.]
Among other things.
[Scoffs.]
The woman he loves dies a horrible death, is literally ripped from his hands, and you think he should've made this his priority? Two days after Kelly dies, he risks his own life to save a stranger's kid from the train tracks, and you're saying he's not a reliable guy? Mr.
Golkar Damien Thorn is the best photographer out there, hands down.
But he's also the most selfless, courageous guy I've ever met.
And if these aren't the qualities you want in your collective, then good luck to you.
Mr.
Golkar, please, wait.
[Doorbell rings.]
[Door creaks.]
Detective Shay.
Good afternoon, Ms.
Rutledge.
Is something wrong? Is Damien No, he's fine.
Do you, uh, mind if I come in? - [Clock chiming in distance.]
- Of course.
- Just had a few questions to ask you.
- [Door closes.]
May I offer you some coffee? No, thank you.
I'm gonna get right to the point.
Mr.
Thorn's down at the police station right now.
We brought him in for questioning about his possible involvement in the death of Troy Hendrie.
Mr.
Thorn suggested that you might've known him.
Yes.
He worked with me at Armitage.
Hmm.
Ms.
Rutledge, are you Mr.
Thorn's attorney? Yes.
He says you're not.
He says he only met you a week ago, and he suggested that you might be stalking him.
[Scoffs.]
He said that? Well, to be specific, I'm not his personal attorney.
I represent the Thorn Family Estate.
Hmm.
He said there was a special room in your house, with, uh, his personal belongings from when he was a child? Now that's ridiculous.
Well, he said this room has access through a secret doorway in a bookshelf.
[Doors creak.]
[Exhales.]
It's a panic room.
I never use it.
I never panic.
[Footsteps echo.]
I suppose I should warn you.
Damien's given to very erratic behavior.
[Eerie whispering.]
Are you saying that he's a liar? [Switch clicks.]
I'm saying he has trouble distinguishing between reality and fantasy.
[Exhales.]
[Exhales.]
[Footsteps approach.]
[Clears throat.]
[Elevator whirring.]
Good meeting? You have that look.
I think I got their attention.
Who were you pitching? Bob? Carol? That fat bastard Luigi? [Both chuckle.]
No, it was, uh, Fumika.
Ooh.
Fumika she's tough.
I heard she once knocked out an intern with a staple gun.
Don't tell her I told you.
[Chuckles.]
I hope you're headed out to celebrate.
Yeah, you know what? I am heading out to celebrate.
Know any good bars around here? ANN: I've known him his entire life.
Besides handling the legal affairs of the Thorn Estate, I'm also executor of his father's will.
Then why would Damien claim to only have met you last week? He spent years overseas in extremely high pressure situations.
That's certainly taken a psychic toll.
Could you be more specific? The specifics of his mental health - [Pours liquid.]
- are attorney-client privilege.
But you have to understand, if there's a hell on earth, Damien's been dead center, photographing it.
Mm.
Does he own dogs? I don't think so.
'Cause I was attacked by one last night.
Another man was mauled to death by a pack of them.
[Chuckles.]
Damien training dogs to attack people? You give him too much credit.
I will say he used to, uh, be prone to fits of rage.
He supposedly knocked his mother over a balcony when he was young.
I assumed it was an accident.
But then I was on the board of one of the school he attended, and there was an altercation with another student.
I can't remember his name.
Thorn hurt him? [Sighs.]
The poor boy spent his life in a facility.
So he rang his bell pretty bad? Charles Powell.
That's the name.
[Clicks pen.]
I will look into that.
Damien was treated after that.
And I thought he'd pulled himself together.
But I guess we can only outrun our demons for so long.
Wouldn't you agree, Detective? [Objects rattling.]
[TV playing indistinctly.]
[Siren wailing in distance.]
[Door creaks.]
- [Speaks Yoruba.]
- [Objects clatter.]
What the hell is this? He's a very powerful babalawo.
A witch doctor? The bird in the tub was Kelly.
The bird that broke the stained glass window at the funeral, it was Kelly.
She's trying to come back or she's lost her way.
Either way, she's trying to tell us something.
He can help her.
[Squawks.]
[Whispers.]
Mom, this is not real.
This is an old world superstition.
You can't possibly believe this.
You found a bird in your bath? [Clucking.]
Yes.
Then you are threatened, too.
The spirits will come for you.
[Rooster continues clucking.]
[Speaks Yoruba.]
What are you gonna do? This house need to be purified.
[Continues plucking.]
[Whispers.]
Mom.
[Normal voice.]
Oh, my God.
Please stop.
[Scratches.]
[Speaks Yoruba.]
No.
No! Those are Kelly's things! Please! No! Oh, no! No! [Squishing.]
May the road be open to you.
May nothing evil meet you on the way.
[Squish, blood continues dripping.]
[Slices, thud.]
[Blood continues dripping.]
[Thud.]
[Whoosh.]
[Loud whoosh.]
[Rumbling.]
I hate photography.
Taking pictures is for people who can't remember things with their own brain.
[Laughs.]
Kidding.
These are great, really.
I'm not surprised you crushed it today.
So you and this photographer been working together long? Uh, two years.
You know, I think we make a-a good team.
You guys have obviously been through a lot.
You don't even know.
So tell me.
All right.
Uh, well, uh, I was working as a translator in, uh, Libya for the Americans, and, um, Gadaffi loyalists, they just blitzed through Tripoli, and they were rounding people up.
And, you know, they put me in a ditch with a hood over my head.
And the soldiers, they moved down the line.
Started, uh, shooting guys I knew one by one.
And, uh, all I could think about w was my mother, my sisters.
They'd, uh, never know what happened to me.
And Damien, he just steps up out of nowhere.
And I have no idea what he said, but they let me go.
Never really told anyone that story before.
Why are you telling it now? I don't know.
Taxi! [Both laughing.]
Ooh, hoo! - All right, no, I got it.
I got this.
- [Horn blares.]
- Yo! Wait! - Oh, he sped up! Oh, come on! Taxi! [Laughing.]
Seriously! Wow.
Don't worry, I got it.
This is it for sure.
Oh.
Wow.
You wanna give it a go? [Laughs.]
[Horn honks in distance.]
You gotta teach me that trick sometime.
[Whispers.]
Right.
[Brakes squeal.]
Bye.
[Door opens.]
[Door closes.]
[Exhales.]
We can't hold you.
You're free to go.
[Indistinct conversations.]
[Police radio chatter.]
What is this? Did you see the room? I'll take it from here.
Everything's going to be all right.
What the hell did she tell you? You can't let her do this.
You take care.
And don't let me see you again.
Let's get you home.
What did you say to him? That you've witnessed more than your fair share of suffering.
Did you tell him the part you've played? Not exactly the most eloquent "thank you" I've ever received.
Why would I say thank you? You say you've been there my whole life, - watching out for me.
- I have.
You've done a shitty job! Look at this mess! You want gratitude? I can't leave my apartment without shit going down.
Enough death.
You're just looking for someone to blame.
[Siren wailing in distance.]
Oh, you're not the puppet master? Oh, you sure do play the part well.
The part I play is insignificant.
[Indistinct conversations.]
This stops now.
These killings will stop now.
Even if I have to slit your throat to make them.
Do it.
Slit my throat.
You know that's what you want.
Desperate men have nothing to lose.
The day will come.
[Indistinct conversations, phone ringing.]
Did you go to Ann Rutledge's home today? I hear you accused her of being involved in that escalator death.
N-Not exactly I don't give a rat's ass what you were doing.
Stop it.
Captain, listen, I went there for a reason.
Damien Thorn, he accused her of What's your obsession with this guy? Is he your type? Just drop it.
Let's not make this another Baltimore, okay? Took you years to climb out of that pile of shit.
You wanna go right back there? I don't think so.
Be smart.
Leave Thorn alone.
[Air hisses.]
[Canister thuds, click.]
[Train whistle blows in distance.]
[Knock on door.]
[Door creaks.]
Hey.
Can I come in? Of course.
[Door creaks, closes.]
Everything all right? No.
Where did you get this? [Voice breaks.]
Ever since Kelly died, I've been seeing things.
The church where we held the funeral you remember the bird that flew into the window? I found another one in my drain.
My mom's Nigerian.
I told her, and she brought in a Yoruba priest.
He thinks Kelly's trying to talk to us.
That was a scam.
What else could it be? There's a rational explanation for all of this.
You know, a bird flew into your window, and another got caught in your drain.
I don't know how, but it did.
And your fortune-teller pulled a magic trick.
He might as well have sawed a lady in half.
I wish things were different.
But trust me, I do.
The things I and Kelly have seen brutality, natural disasters, massacres there's always the ones left behind.
Human wreckage.
People suffering so badly, they can't possibly go on.
They need answers.
They're Well, their their pain is is so great, th-there must be a higher purpose.
There must be a reason.
But, uh There is none.
Kelly died.
And a bird is just a bird.
[Exhales sharply.]
I'm sorry.
[Inhales sharply.]
I'm - No - [Sighs deeply.]
I am.
You know, I wish you two had gotten to be together.
She really loved you.
I probably shouldn't be saying that.
No, it's okay.
I know.
[Door opens.]
[Door closes.]
[Notebook clatters.]
[Imitating airplane engine.]
You don't think McGarry's gonna make trouble? He hates you, you know.
He hates everybody.
That's why he's a cop.
Well, he's right.
You should leave well enough alone.
I got it.
If that suspect has a history of mental illness That only confuses his alibi.
That doesn't explain anything about all the deaths around him.
PATRICK: It's a statistical cluster Don't talk down to me, okay? You know I can't handle the Stephen Hawking shit.
Well, I try not to talk down to you.
It's just so hard not to.
[Chuckles.]
JAMES: Are we getting all healthy now? PATRICK: Yeah, we're gonna go with olive oil.
JAMES: Olive oil.
So domestic.
I love this.
[Conversation continues indistinctly.]
- JAMES: That's it.
See that? - PATRICK: Parsley, yeah.
JAMES: How many eggs do you want? PATRICK: Two.
This Thorn guy is a dick.
He walks into my station, and there's some guy in there for parking tickets who suddenly decides he wants to castrate himself.
And then there's all these deaths and the dog attack.
I-I just don't get it.
You're not gonna leave well enough alone, are ya? I try, but it's just so hard not to.
[Chuckles.]
[Water rippling.]
[Birds chirping.]
[Water splashing.]
PATRICK: Jacob! Breakfast! Babe, come on.
It'll get cold.
Jacob! Jacob! Jacob! [Roars.]
Oh, God, Jacob.
Patrick! Patrick! - Jacob? - [Growls.]
I'm here.
I got him.
I got him.
All right, Jacob.
Jacob.
- Oh, Jacob.
- Honey, come on.
Jacob, wake up.
He's not breathing.
He's not breathing.
Move out of the way.
Move out of the way.
1, 2 Come on.
Come on.
Come on, Jacob.
Come on.
[Coughs.]
Ah! There he goes! It's okay.
It's okay.
- [Whispers.]
Okay.
- It's okay.
It's okay.
[Grunts.]
Okay, get him in there.
I got him.
We need an ambulance.
- You got him? - Yeah.
[Panting.]
[Growls.]
[Water rippling.]
[Growls.]
[Snarls.]