02x01 - Fresh Hell

Episode transcripts for the 2014 TV show "Penny Dreadful". Aired May 11, 2014 - June 19, 2016.*
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Explorer Sir Malcolm Murray, American gunslinger Ethan Chandler, and others unite to combat supernatural threats in Victorian London.
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02x01 - Fresh Hell

Post by bunniefuu »

Vanessa: Last season on Penny Dreadful...

Do you believe there is a demimonde?

A place in the shadows, rarely seen, but deeply felt.

I believe in curses. I believe in demons. I believe in monsters.

(electricity crackling)

Do you?

(sighs)


What might I do for you?

We have continued use of a man of your skills.

Your kind of man.

One of great v*olence and hidden depths.

Sir Malcolm: Dr. Frankenstein.

You seem to be a freethinker who might imagine a world where science and superstition walk hand-in-hand.

Your first-born has returned.

Did you think I wouldn't find you?

I'm Ethan Chandler.

Brona Croft.

(coughing)

Ethan: She has consumption.

Best you didn't kiss me anymore.

Keep a safe distance.

May I present the renowned Madame Kali.

There's another here.

(hisses)

(speaking demonic language)

(speaking demonic language)

(people screaming)


Ethan: What's wrong with her?

Sir Malcolm: She's been possessed by the Devil.

(screaming)


This is a spell, foretelling the annihilation of man and the coming of the beast.

Why, it's Madame Kali, is it not?

It's actually Evelyn Poole.

Preferable.

(laughing)

So how's your friend? Miss Ives?

Vanessa, please!

Vanessa: You don't know what it's like having this thing inside me.

An animal scratching to get out.

Ethan: There are things you can't control.

At the end of the day, the only thing we have is the people we trust.


Mina?

Father.

(growls)

(shrieks)

(gasping)


I'm your daughter.

I already have a daughter.

What do you want from me?

I think a companion.

You will make me an immortal mate.

Frankenstein: "No more let life divide what death can join together."

(screaming)

(groans)


Ethan: There are such sins at my back it would k*ll me to turn around.

Your daddy says, 'Come home,' so home you come.

You can't run forever, Ethan.

(growling)

(gasping)


Sir Malcolm: There's a moment, a moment you realize you are no longer the hunter, you are the prey.

If you have been touched by the demon, it's like being touched by the back hand of God.

Makes you sacred in a way.

Vanessa: There are things within us all that can never be unleashed.

What do those people do?

(clatters)

Those who have been chosen?

(children laughing in distance)

(indistinct chatter)

(Madame Kali speaking demonic language)

(gasps)

(continues speaking)

(panting)

(grunts)

(continues panting)

(theme music playing)

(groans)

(swallows)

(groans)

(sighs deeply)

(gasps)

(bottle rolls)

(horse neighs)


Thank you.

I need to talk to you. Not inside the house.

Take us on a tour. Anywhere you like.

(sighs heavily)

I came to say goodbye.

You're leaving London?

I have to.

Why?

Miss Ives, I'm not what you think I am.

And before I hurt you, or anyone here, I need to get away.

Where will you go?

Spain, maybe. Or Russia.

Find a w*r somewhere, join a side.

Do what I'm good at.

And the w*r here?

Mina's dead. The Creature's dead. We lost.

That was only a battle.

Do you think the dark forces that converge on our heads can be vanquished so easily?

Do you honestly believe you can escape them?

And the other ones?

The ones inside us?

Inside me, you mean?

No. That's not what I mean.

(inhales deeply)

There are times that I have...

(smacks lips)

Well, like these blackouts.

Times I can't remember.

What happens?

I don't know.

But there's usually blood.

How can I help?

You can't change what you are, no matter who you save, or who you love.

(horse neighing)

(driver shouting)

(driver screaming)

(horse whimpering)

(silence)

(Ethan breathing heavily)

(growling)

(Ethan grunting)

(struggling)

(creature screeching)

(growling)

(Vanessa grunting)

(creatures screeching)

(groans)

(both breathing heavily)

(softly)
Are you all right?

I think so.

(speaking demonic language)

(panting)


Will she remember?

I don't know.

I hope not.

Why?

Her life was benighted.

We'll seek the shadows together, then.

All right.

Lower her in.

Gently!

Now we wait on the weather.

May the gods bring us storms.

Good night, Creator.

I need to be looking for work, not a simple thing in this steel-hearted city of yours.

But have no doubt that I will never be far from you.

Wait!

If this works, if I do as I've promised you, give you this thing living, will you leave me in peace?

You would do better to ask your soul to leave you.

We are bound on a wheel of pain, thee and me.

I ask you, what is Dr. Frankenstein without his Creature?

(whispering) Don't let her out of your sight.

What were they?

Women. I don't know.

Like the others?

Those with the creature we k*lled?

Not by a long sh*t.

Miss Ives.

Vanessa.

Can you speak to me?

Mr. Chandler.

Can I do anything for you?

You knew them?

Yes.

What are they?

How can I help you if you won't let me?

You can't help!

You were going to leave, so go.

For Christ's sake, Vanessa, they were trying to k*ll you!

If they were trying to k*ll me, they would have.

Goodbye, Mr. Chandler.

Sir Malcolm will be back tomorrow.

I'll come back then.

(door opens)

(door closes)

(inhales sharply)


Do you believe the past can return?

More than that.

It never leaves us.

Never?

It is who we are.

God help us, then.

Gladys: A hollow thing, wasn't it?

Putting an empty coffin in Peter's grave, his body left in Africa.

Such a need we had for the ceremony of it.

I don't know which makes me sadder.

Mina's full coffin or Peter's empty one.

Gladys, we've been too much apart these past years.

I think I should come home.

We don't need the London house.

Gladys: And what would we do?

We were happy once, you and I.

No, Malcolm, you were happy once.

Everything that was left between us is buried here.

We shall remain married, despite all.

That modicum of decency I'll insist upon for myself.

But I'll live in the house here.

You stay in London.

Or go to Africa.

I don't care.

If only you knew how hard I tried to save her.

We have no more children for you to save, or to k*ll.

(indistinct conversations)

(chuckles softly)

(man whistling)


Excuse me.

Oh! (chuckles)

Hello. Sorry.

Don't like the customers to see the magic at work.

Well.

Yes. (stammering) I saw your notice.

My notice?

For employment.

Gads, is that still up? I'd forgotten about it.

No one wants to work here. People find it unnerving.

But you don't.

I find it familiar.

I'll be honest with you, friend, we're not the most financially sound institution in London.

As you can tell, the patronage is thin to non-existent.

We can't pay you much.

What's the job?

In an effort to compete with the dreaded Madame Tussaud's, I'm instituting a new bit of gimmickry intended to send those trumped-up French bastards back to Paris.

This way.

My Chambers of Crime!

Homicide scenes plucked from the headlines and recreated here in the most minute detail.

Here's old Jack himself.

The Annie Chapman m*rder.

What we couldn't discover, we invented, of course.

No one will know the difference.

You tell the public a thing is real, it is.

I'm preparing a series of 'em with all the ballyhoo I can muster.

I need help with the construction and the tableaux, along with the usual custodial work throughout the museum.

It's thankless work in dark rooms, but it's honest.

What do you think?

Yes.

Well, before we get you all signed and sealed, you'll have to meet the rest of the Putneys.

We're a family concern, you understand, and I'm beholden on their approval.

You mean the way I look.

I meant more the way you are.

Can you come back this evening, say 7:00?

Yes.

Very good! We'll let them try you on for size, especially me good lady wife, she who holds the pocketbook.

(chuckles)

Here, look at this.

My newest crime, still under construction, of course.

Details are hard to come by on this one, it's so recent.

Though the newspapers have provided some guidance.

But before long we'll have it all sorted out.

Our grisly m*rder*r exposed to the eyes of London at two shillings a peep.

I give you the Mariner's Inn m*ssacre.

Inspector Galsworthy said we can get it back.

Inspector Galsworthy has been replaced.

I understand...

This is a crime scene.

You'll get it back when I'm finished.

With respect, Inspector Rusk, this is valuable commercial property.

The owners want to build on the site.

What do they want to build?

What? Oh, um, tenement blocks.

Rusk: That's a shame. More brick.

There'll be no wood left in the city before long.

Brick lasts longer.

But without character.

Wood holds its history.

Broker: You'll forgive me for asking, but, uh, this is like Spitalfields, eh?

The Ripper back again?

You think so?

Reckon it must be.

Why?

Can there be two monsters like that in our city?

This one is different.

This time there was a survivor.

She didn't leave her room.

All day?

All day.

This is something I never thought I'd see.

What?

Here's a woman who faced down that Creature in the theater without blinking.

And held her ground against Satan himself.

But now...

I've never seen her frightened.

(metal clanging)

(breathing deeply)


What will you make of this life, I wonder?

I'll miss talking to you.

It's good to have someone to talk to.

You'll learn that soon enough.

You'll learn everything.

Who will you be?

Will this hand ever know love?

(ragged breathing)

(sighs)

(knocking on door)

(gasps)


I'll be back soon.

You are required.

Let me fetch my bag.

You will not need it.

What will I need?

Courage.

(indistinct conversations)

He's told you about the work?

Yes, ma'am.

The hours are one hour before opening until two hours after we close, which is midnight on weekends.

We take no holidays, we observe no religious occasions.

The pay is 15 shillings per week, flat.

Yes, ma'am.

What's your name?

John. Clare. John Clare, ma'am.

Sign.

Perhaps he should meet our Lavinia?

Octavia: Lavinia! Come in here.

Come meet the new man we've hired, Mr. Clare.

Miss Putney.

Mr. Clare.

May I touch your face?

It is not a face for touching.

Then I will never meet you.

Please.

If you must.

(breathing raggedly)

It is good to meet you, Mr. Clare.

Would you show Mr. Clare out, dear?

This way, sir.

That face!

What in God's name are you thinking?

He'll scare away the few customers we have.

Quiet, woman!

That face will make our fortune.

(indistinct conversations)

(horses neighing)

(door opens)

(clock ticking)


Then what were they?

Ethan: Women.

But not your usual run.

And not the creatures of which we've had recent experience?

Ethan: No.

They were branded and deeply scarred.

The devil's mark.

Those in the service of the demon are irrevocably marked.

His claws rake across them to seal their obedience.

No, Sir Malcolm, these were not the creatures we faced before.

Not as steady as I would like.

Thank you, Doctor.

(groans)

Frankenstein: You should rest.

You've been through a lot. Just rest.

And did you know the language they spoke?

It was Latin.

Vanessa: No.

It was the Verbis Diablo.

If I remember my theological studies correctly, that's quite impossible.

What is it?

A mythical language.

Ethan: No.

A dead language.

The word of the devil.

According to Biblical lore, the Verbis Diablo is a corruption of angelical speech.

What Adam spoke in Paradise before the serpent made his memorable appearance.

Ethan: The story goes, Satan took God's language and turned it inside out.

After the fall of man, God spoke to Adam, but Adam could no longer understand him.

"Why is my language unclear to thee?

Because you now belong to your father, the devil."

You do know this is all myth.

Those women weren't.

Well, I don't know what you saw, Ethan, but I highly doubt they were figments conjured from Galilean fantasies speaking a dead language.

Vanessa, did you know the words she said to you?

No.

I don't remember much.

The words came to me blindly, like an animal instinct.

I don't even know what I said.

Whatever it was scared them off.

Then should we not begin by finding a way to understand the language?

Begin what?

Whatever's required to protect Miss Ives.

Frankenstein: And what are we protecting her from?

You can't help me!

This is a battle I must fight on my own!

I'm not leaving you.

Mr. Chandler.

Vanessa.

I lost one daughter, I'm not prepared to lose another.

Not for anything in this world.

All together we've seen things not of this world and have proven ourselves capable of defeating them.

What were they?

You knew their kind.

They are Nightcomers.

Witches.

Madame Kali: ♪ My breast is cold ♪
♪ And the land is clay ♪
♪ My breath is earthly strong ♪
♪ And if you kiss ♪
♪ My cold gray lips ♪
♪ Your days they won't be long ♪
♪ How often yonder grave, sweetheart ♪
♪ Where we were wont to walk ♪
♪ The fairest flower that e'er I saw ♪
♪ Has withered to a stalk ♪
♪ When will we meet again, sweetheart, ♪
♪ When will we meet again? ♪
♪ When the autumn leaves ♪
♪ That fall from trees ♪
♪ Are green ♪
♪ And spring up again ♪

(thunder rumbling)

(footsteps approaching)


Mother.

Darlings, I must confess to a modicum of disappointment about the events of last evening.

Disillusionment even.

I should have gone, Mother.

These three are unequal to our great task.

No, Hecate, the fault's mine.

I believed us to be more powerful than we are.

But the man concerns me.

She has a protector.

Lupus Dei.

And he is powerful.

So our task is made yet more daunting.

Meaning we shall have to be yet more ingenious.

We shall have to employ stratagems.

He shall be your challenge, daughter, she, mine.

I shall begin by enticing dear Sir Malcolm.

My old friend Miss Ives won't escape me.

The Master won't be denied his prize.

Even now he twitches for his beloved, his great tail wrapping around her ankle and up and up.

Yes.

Give me another chance, please.

You failed once, pet.

But she knew the language.

She spoke it?

Yes.

What did she say?

It was unclear.

Did she mumble?

No.

I didn't hear it entirely, I mean.

Then the fault's yours.

Do you know what this room holds?

The old Romans called them Memento Mori.

Tokens of death.

The story goes that a famous general was returning from battle, his chariot piled high with the golden spoils of his victory.

He thrust out his chest to proclaim his invincibility to the people.

Well, a sl*ve saw this and threw an old bone at the general's feet, saying, "Remember, death comes for us all."

And from that day, it became a custom in Rome that a sl*ve stand in the chariot behind every general returning in victory, holding a skull and whispering into his ear.

(speaking Latin)

"Look behind you.

Remember that you are a man.

Remember that you will die."

(gasps)

(hisses)

(gurgling)


Take that bitch away.

I've seen that look in her eyes.

After a battle.

She'll talk to us in her own time.

And until then?

I was intending to leave London.

Now I don't think I should.

I appreciate that.

You have a guest room?

Yes.

I'll stay there.

You mean stay with us?

That's what I mean.

I'll have Sembene prepare the room.

I can do it.

(child wailing)

Hurry!

Quickly!

Connect those batteries!

That lever!

And now the next two!

We must catch the storm!

(grunting)

Help me!

When I say, raise the main conductor! Not yet!

Now!

(grunting)

I have to modulate the charge!

Release the pressure on the conductors!

Take them down by half!

More!

Start at a 10% charge!

Please, please.

Please, please, please, please, please.

Get back!

(panting)

Please, let her live.

Let her live, now!

Let her live!

Now!

Let her live, now!

Now!

(screaming) Now!

(screaming) Now!

Now!

Now!

Now!

Now!

(crackling)

(groaning)

(panting)

(gasps)

(shuddering)

(distorted voices)

(speaking Latin)


Madame Kali: Master. My beloved Lucifer.

I have found her for you and she shall be yours.

I shall as*ault her days and her nights, her dreams and her prayers.

No corner of her soul shall be safe.

Every b*at of her heart she shall know only suffering.

I will not fail you.

I will not fail you. I will not fail you.

(speaking Verbis Diablo)

(Vanessa speaking Latin)

(trembling)

(panting)


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