02x06 - The Origins of Monstrosity

[bunniefuu]

911. What is your emergency?

You need to send a car to Briarcliff.

They're waiting.

Who's waiting?

I've been a very busy boy.

Can you give me your name?

Hello?

You'll know my name when you see them.

They were imposters.

Police.

Anybody here?

Jesus, Bobby.

Holy sh*t.

I used to think it must be my fault.

My own child, who lived inside me for nine months, someone I nursed and bathed and held and sang lullabies to.

I have two other children, Sister, both of them perfectly normal.

She sounds like quite a handful, Mrs. Reynolds, but we do not have a children's ward here.

Oh, but she's more than a child, Sister.

In fact, that's the problem.

She's always seemed like an adult.

Do you know that she's never cried?

Not once, not even when she was a little baby.

I'm going to tell you something

I haven't told anyone.

Jenny and her little friend, Josie, were playing after school.

I had told them to go out into the woods to gather leaves.

We were gonna make a fall wreath.

See, Josie was the only one who would play with Jenny, and I wanted it to go well.

I tried to stop him, but he was bigger than me, and he said he would k*ll me, too, if I didn't stand very still and be quiet.

He was tall, he had a beard and a brown jacket.

And they never found the bearded man with the brown coat, I take it?

They searched.

Two days ago, I was doing the laundry, and I found this in her pocket.

I can't go to the police.

Sister, I can't.

She's my daughter.

Oh, Mrs. Reynolds...

One of my dreams for Briarcliff has been to open a children's ward.

There are so many little souls who could use our help.

But we can do nothing until that time.

Prayer...

is your strength and your ally.

Could you just meet with her?

She's right downstairs with her coloring book.

Sister, just help me understand, where does this evil come from?

Could she have been born that way?

Is there anything more heavenly than waking from a nap to the smell of croque-monsieur?

I bet this is what your mother made you after school on a rainy day.

You can scream all you want.

No one will hear you.

Obviously, the basement is soundproof.

Believe me, girls with bigger sets of lungs than yours have tried before.

Where's Wendy?

What did you do with her body?

I put her somewhere where she'll never be found.

It wouldn't do to have her body pop up now that Kit Walker has confessed to all those horrendous murders.

Can I tell you a secret?

Nutmeg makes all the difference in the world.

Croque-monsieur and tomato soup.

The perfect mommy snack.

Only I didn't have a mother to make this for me.

Well, of course, I had a mother, but I never knew her.

She was about your age when she abandoned me.

You grew up in an orphanage?

Yeah. In the system.

Where all my basic needs were met:

food, water, a rudimentary education.

And with the help of a leather crop, learning the difference between right and wrong.

They followed all the rules.

Especially the rules against affection or any unnecessary bodily contact, because touch would certainly spoil the child.

This is good.

You're right.

This is good.

It's delicious.

I'm not trying to patronize you, Oliver.

I just want you to know how much I appreciate this act of kindness.

I know what it's like to be abandoned.

That's how I felt at Briarcliff.

I was right about you.

You're the one.

Lana, I've always been self-aware.

I knew I was different from the other kids.

I was smarter.

But I was also more afflicted.

It's what led me to study psychiatry...

to better understand my disorder.

It wasn't until medical school that I had my first breakthrough, though.

Hey, Thredson, from what I hear, this is the closest you'll get to a girlfriend this quarter.

I would laugh along with my idiot colleagues, but I knew the woman on the table wasn't my girlfriend.

I trust you gentlemen have reviewed the material in preparation for today.

She was my mother.

She was 33 years old, the same age as my mother when she abandoned me.

The same age as you, Lana.

Now, I knew logically, rationally, that the woman on the table wasn't my mother.

But somehow, in the cosmic joke that is my life, I felt like she could be.

And it was poetic justice that I would be meeting her for the first time on a slab in my gross anatomy class.

It was then that I knew what I was missing.

A mother's touch.

Skin-to-skin contact.

It's what I was craving.

It's what I was missing my whole life.

Oh, but she smelled of formaldehyde.

And her skin, even after I removed it, was cold and stiff.

Have you ever read or heard about the Harlow studies?

Baby rhesus monkeys were separated from their mothers after birth, and they were given two substitute mothers:

a wire mesh one with milk and the other covered in terrycloth.

Every monkey preferred the terrycloth-covered mother, even if it didn't have milk.

Because of the warmth?

Because of the skin.

Even monkeys know the difference.

I tried, I really tried.

But that cadaver did nothing to quiet my craving.

I needed someone...

...a little more lively.

Warm living skin.

No, no, no, no, no.

It's okay.

It's okay, because now that you're here, all of that work is behind me.

Mommy.

Hello?

Sister Jude.

It's Sam Goodman.

Sam, I tried calling you, but you never got back to me.

I was working on your case.

Yes, but I-I-I asked you to stop.

I mean, this girl, this mental patient, she wasn't Anne Frank.

I mean, she just made the whole thing up.

Well, somehow, she got it right.

He is Hans Grouper.

He was an SS officer and a physician...

at Auschwitz.

What?

Did you say...

she got it right?

After the liberation, he obtained a laissez-passer from the International Red Cross under the name Arthur Arden.

I have the original documents from the Red Cross, but I need Grouper's fingerprint to establish a match.

Be careful. The man is dangerous and a flight risk.

These men are always on their guard.

The moment they get nervous, they disappear.

As soon as you have the print, bring it directly to the motel.

Who are you?

I'm Jenny.

I told your mother, we don't have a children's ward here.

Where is she?

She's gone.

She kissed me on the cheek and said, "Be good, Jenny."

Sister Mary Eunice!

I need help here.

Monsignor, thank you for coming.

Oh, it's my pleasure.

I consider it a privilege to perform last rites.

Oh, thank God you're a man of compassion.

We called several priests in the area, but they were all in a panic over the news reports.

Especially after they published those grim pictures of her.

What exactly is wrong with her?

No one knows.

Our doctors have ordered a battery of tests.

But she did test positive for TB.

Oh, I didn't realize there were still new cases.

I should warn you...

the sight of her is quite shocking.

We're all God's creatures.

I'll be in the hall if you need me.

Hi, child.

Shelly?

Oh, look at that, Father James.

This will make a splendid dayroom for our residents.

All right, I thought all

TB patients had been cleared out.

These are the incurables, those whose tuberculosis was too far advanced for any of the new miracle dr*gs to have an effect.

God bless.

Well, he hasn't yet.

Dr. Arthur Arden, Briarcliff's

Tubercular Ward's supervising physician.

Former supervising physician, I should say.

Father Timothy Howard...

Yes, I know who you are.

You're the new owner.

Sally Starns.

She was actually a nurse here at one time.

She won't live till morning, not if she's lucky.

Through this holy anointing, may the Lord and his love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit.

May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up.

It's all right, my daughter.

The Prince of Peace opens his arms to you.

Back when the epidemic was at its worst, we'd sometimes move more than

100 bodies a week down through here.

Oh.

How did you manage to keep up with all the burials? - There were no burials.

Most of the people here have long since been forgotten.

We incinerate the bodies in the crematorium out back and store the ashes in here.

All these wasted lives.

All these wasted opportunities.

I suppose it will be a relief for you to finally leave this place.

The end of my tenure at Briarcliff also means the end of my research.

Research?

I've been working on an immune booster.

It's a sort of bacterial cocktail, if you will.

It would actually inhibit most disease from ever taking hold in the human body.

What would you need to further your work?

Human trials would have been the next step.

I assume it would be difficult to find volunteers.

From the general public, yes.

But there are those whose lives otherwise serve no purpose.

Through our work together, they would have contributed to the greater good.

A good that would not go unnoticed.

Even in Rome.

I'm sorry.

Would you have preferred Mozart?

Jude was right about you.

You're a monster.

Why do you look for the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye...

and pay no attention to the plank in your own?

I saw that girl, what you did to Shelly.

All in the name of progress.

Isn't that what we agreed upon?

No, you told me this was for the greater good.

You mutilated her!

Perhaps.

But you're missing the entire point.

Briarcliff is a receptacle for human waste.

Each patient a perfect example of an evolutionary failure.

♪ Jesus... ♪

Oh, yeah.

♪ Loves me ♪

Oh, yeah, that's it, that's it.

Yeah, oh.

Another mess to clean up, Mr. Spivey?

You seemed to have mistaken the broom closet for the playground, where you used to expose yourself to innocent little boys and girls.

No, never the boys, Doc.

I had my standards.

You are utterly depraved.

You've done nothing to improve yourself.

No, you're wrong, Doc.

I'm a new man.

I used to have these disgusting urges that wouldn't quit until I busted a nut--

I mean, even in public - but I'm not sneaking around with my pants down anymore.

It was Sister Mary Eunice that asked me to come watch her flash her p*ssy...

My aim was to give these wasted lives purpose, meaning, and I've succeeded beyond my wildest imagination.

My experiments with a combination of syphilis and tuberculosis have produced results unseen in the history of medical science.

When they arrived here, these patients were less than men.

Now, because of me, they're more than human.

Would you care to see what your benevolence has produced?

Witness the next stage of human evolution.

Have you lost your mind?

Why on earth would you do this?

Why?

When the Russians launch their nuclear missiles,

20 million Americans will be incinerated instantly.

Another 20 million will suffer a slow, agonizing death.

Natural selection would have weeded out the weak, but only over the course of time.

Whereas I have managed to improve the species now, so that we can survive the atomic blast, live through the radiation and become dominant once again.

You should be locked away.

With you to keep me company?

We're in this together, Father.

Remember?

You gave me your blessing, along with the facility and the subjects.

I cannot allow this to continue.

I have to expose this to the light of day.

If you do open that window, the light will illuminate everything in Briarcliff.

And I mean everything.

Yes, that's what I thought.

Now, you listen to me.

You and I have nothing to fear from each other.

However, we do have a thr*at in common.

We both know where the real danger lies.

Can I try that?

You're too young to use a Kn*fe.

You'll cut yourself.

Why'd your mother abandon you here anyway?

She's scared of me.

Really?

Why?

She thinks I k*lled Josie.

Did you?

No.

Did so.

How do you know?

I know everything.

I'm the devil.

She deserved it, that Josie.

She was a phony little sh*t.

She didn't even like you.

She just played with you because her mother told her to.

But you're lucky, because you were born with the gift of authentic impulse.

Don't ever let them k*ll it.

I wasted so much time trying to be a good girl.

All I wanted in the whole world was for people to like me.

Okay, okay everyone, it's time!

Let's all welcome Mary Eunice McKee to our annual pool event.

Hey, why don't you get up on the diving board, Mary Eunice?

You're our guest of honor today.

♪ Love me... ♪

Go ahead.

♪ But how do I know? ♪
♪ Tell me ♪
♪ How do I know? ♪

All right, everyone.

On the count of three, we're all gonna drop our robes.

One...

two... three!

I was just everyone's victim.

Poor Mary Eunice.

The only place I thought I'd be safe was with God.

God.

You know there's no God, right?

You already figured out that it's just a bunch of crap someone made up to keep you from being who you are, from doing what you really want to do.

What a chump.

Look where it got me.

Right here, taking sh*t from a mean old bitch who drinks and wears trashy red lingerie under her habit.

But not for long.

They're gonna lock me up in my room.

I'll never be able to do anything I want ever again.

Don't be a whiner.

You're smarter than they are.

Don't you ever forget it.

Maybe you just need to learn how to defend yourself.

Fine. We'll be expecting you.

Monsignor.

Crisis averted.

I mean, she-she went off and-and left her daughter here, as if we're some kind of personal child care facility.

For heaven's sakes, what is that expression on your face, Timothy?

It seems Briarcliff's become quite a burden for you.

No, no.

We just had a few, uh, difficult days, but the order has been restored...

Sister, I've contacted a colleague, Father Bernard, in Pittsburgh.

He's just opened a home for wayward girls.

I've recommended you highly to run it.

Are you f*ring me?

You've lost your way.

You need a new beginning.

You're booked on a plane out of Logan Airport, Friday morning, 8:30 a.m.

This is... this is all about Dr. Arden, isn't it?

Dr. Arden is not the issue here!

Dr. Arden is entirely the issue here!

He's turned you against me.

But I was right about him.

Pack up your things, Sister.

Little Jenny Reynolds' mother came by and picked her up.

That's fine.

Is there anything else, Sister?

No, Sister.

Yes, Sister.

What are you doing?

I'm packing.

I'm leaving Briarcliff.

The monsignor, in his wisdom, has decided that my talents would serve better elsewhere.

Pittsburgh, as it turns out.

Pittsburgh?

No, Sister Jude, you can't leave Briarcliff.

I have no choice.

But what will become of us?

No, I won't leave you to the tender mercies of Dr. Arden.

There's something I can do before I'm exiled.

Go to the kitchen.

The special bottle of cognac I keep for the monsignor - bring it to me.

And two very clean glasses.

Thredson residence.

Thank God you picked up, Dr. Thredson.

You're my one phone call.

Listen, you got to help me.

The cops put me in jail, and they say they have proof

I k*lled Alma and those other ladies.

They say they have a tape of my confession.

I thought we had a deal.

I thought you said, if I say all that stuff out loud, you'll tell the courts I could stay at Briarcliff.

No, no, Kit.

I told you to say what you believe is true.

I was confused.

Now I know the truth.

Alma's not dead. Grace saw her.

She told me.

Kit...

you need to take responsibility for what you did.

You said you'd lie for me so I could avoid the chair, but all you did was lie to me.

How'd the cops get the tape, huh?

Did you give it to them?

Oh, come on.

I bet this was your plan all along, wasn't it?

You didn't want to help me.

You're full of sh*t, and you're a liar.

Stop. You stop calling me that.

You're a phony, lying bastard!

Stop...! Stop calling me that!

He's unbelievable.

He has the nerve to call me a liar, when he's the one spouting fantasies about little green men!

Kit?

You talk to him?

Perspiration from a rise in body temperature.

Accelerated heart rate.

What are you up to?

Nothing.

I knew it.

You were gonna abandon me.

Just like my mother.

You're all the same.

I'm not...

Shut your dirty mouth.

I'm not like them.

I'm not.

I'm not like them.

I'm not like them.

It's such a disappointment...

I'm not.

...when people don't live up to expectations.

Sometimes all you can do is...

end it.

This is your fault.

You have no one to blame but yourself.

Please.

♪ You don't own me ♪
♪ I'm not just one of your many toys ♪
♪ You don't own me ♪
♪ Don't say I can't go with other boys ♪
♪ And don't tell me what to do ♪
♪ And don't tell me what to say ♪
♪ And, please, when I go out with you ♪
♪ Don't put me on display... ♪

Hello.

It's Sam Goodman.

This is Sister Jude.

Toast, Arthur.

A toast to what?

You won.

And I've always prided myself on my good sportsmanship.

To your impressive single-mindedness.

I thought this was supposed to be a toast.

Ah, yes.

We're abstaining these days, aren't we?

I wouldn't dream of drinking alone.

You know...

there are times in life that warrant an exception.

To you.

And to God's will.

Yes?

I'm sorry, did Sister Jude send you?

She doesn't know I'm here.

Mr. Goodman?

Mr. Goodman?

I came as fast I could.

I have the glass with the fingerprints.

Mr. Goodman?

Hello. Hello?

Huh.

Oh, God.

Oh, no!

Oh... no...

Oh, God.

Oh, my God.

I'll call an ambulance.

Listen, listen...

What?

Listen...

Arden did this.

No, no.

Nun.

Ah... What?

What? What?

What did...?

A nun...

A nun.

A nun...

A nun?

What?

One of...

yours.

One of... yours.

Hans Grouper.

You were handsome.

Do you mean to tell me Sister Jude has this Israeli Sherlock Holmes holed up in some motel?

She was determined to expose you.

But you don't need to worry anymore.

I've taken care of everything...

Hans.

Don't...

call me that.

Ever.

Are you quite sure this is all of it?

No.

It's not all of it.

I've hidden some evidence away in case you try and double-cross me.

You must understand, these...

so-called n*zi hunters are nothing but...

self-loathing, self-seeking, money-grubbing Jews!

The Catholic Church certainly understood that.

At least the Pope had the good sense to...

Arthur...

I am not a monster!

I'm a visionary.

Do you have any idea how lonely a path this is?

What it's like to have to carry on your work in secret, hiding from those pious vigilantes?

Arthur!

You're preaching to the converted.

Why?

Why are you protecting me?

You're not in love with me.

I'm no fool.

I know I'm too old.

Too ugly.

Is there something...

you want from me?

This is the beginning of a whole new era.

All you need to do is trust me with your entire soul, and I promise you that everything will work out.

Who k*lled her?

Did you see him?

He was tall.

He had a beard and a brown jacket.

First, he slashed my brother and sister's throats, then he stabbed my mother in the back.

I tried to stop him, but he said he would k*ll me, too, if I moved a muscle.

You're trying not to scream.

But you will.

They always do when I make the first incision.

But then shock will take over...

...and you won't feel anything.

It doesn't have to be this way.

I wish that were true, Lana.

I had such high hopes for you.

From the moment

I saw you, so ambitious, so... alive.

I was never alive in there.

No, not there.

Before Briarcliff.

Oh, come on, Phil.

Aren't you sick and tired of writing the same piece with different names?

Start with some blood and guts, a pinch of sympathy for the poor victims, and then top it off with moral outrage.

Isn't that the recipe?

You're the one who knows about recipes.

What are you doing here?

And when did you get assigned to the crime b*at?

You think Upton Sinclair waits to be assigned a story?

I'm making this my story.

Oh, a woman's touch, huh?

Yes, exactly.

That's what's been missing from this story.

You think this mook's just some monster, but no monster starts off that way.

He was somebody's precious baby, crying for his mommy.

Here comes your precious baby now.

Hey, Walker, why'd you do it?

Huh?

Where's the body?

Come on, Walker.

What, you got nothing to say?

You got a statement, Walker?

I thought that you were the first person who could understand.

I do.

I do understand.

No.

You don't.

That's all right, Oliver.

I don't want you to feel guilty.

A mother's love is unconditional.

You never had that, did you?

Everyone deserves that.

Even you.

Baby.

It's me.

My baby.

Baby needs colostrum.

Car out front is registered to a Leo Morrison out of Encino, California.

He one of our dead trick-or-treaters?

Doubtful. Mr. Morrison's in his early 30s.

We're putting these three as teenagers.

Still trying to I.D. them.

Detectives!

We got another one!

Mr. Morrison, I presume.

All right, full search of the grounds.

Let's do it before we lose daylight.

We're looking for at least a body part.

Chances are whoever called this in is our perp.

This is Detective John Grayson.

Who is this?

You know who I am.

No, I don't.

Did you k*ll these people?

Only the imposters.

I just wanted you to know that.

Just spoke to Leo Morrison's sister.

He's out here on his honeymoon.

sh*t.

Where's his bride?