Downloaded from RARBG
Where is my mother?
Dead.
I hope.
What did you do to her?
No idea what you're talking about.
I know that what she did to you was...
awful and wrong,
but that doesn't give you any right to hurt her.
Three days...
in the trunk of a car.
Pissing and shitting myself across the country
with her freaky song looping
and looping and looping in my fucking head.
And she handed me off like a package of meat
to total fucking strangers.
And if you're defending her,
then you're as sick a bitch as she is.
Fuck!
My mother was desperate,
and she made a terrible mistake,
but your family drove her to it.
You drove her to it, you little fucking demon child.
Now where the fuck is she?!
- Get the fuck off me! - Vincent!
Back the fuck up, or I will snap his fucking arm!
Just let me go!
If you hurt him, I'll destroy you.
Where is she, huh? Where is my mother?!
I don't fuckin' know!
We don't know where she is!
Liv, stop. Stop.
Please, just... just let me go, okay?
Just let me go.
You feral little cunt! Get out of my house!
Are you okay? Are you...
Anything broken?
Stop touching me, please.
My mom was on the dock, keeping watch.
I don't know where she's gone.
We have to search down there before anything happens.
All those years, Birgit stared me in the eyes
and said nothing as I searched for him.
Liv is of her blood.
The inferno is empty,
and this Dante knows devils when she sees them.
Yeah, well...
it's hard to tell the good from the bad these days.
Maybe, let's, uh...
Let's go south, all the way to the beach,
and then we can sweep back towards the boathouse, yeah?
Sure.
I think we might have to remain mum around our Theo.
- Come on. - She's right.
He's not on our side.
He let a known villain escape, and now we're all in danger.
No. No, Birgit is not a killer, and you know that.
And Theo is out there, risking his life to help Liv.
To help save the woman who fucking kidnapped me.
I... I know.
I know what Birgit did was terrible.
But she was desperate. She made a mistake.
You can't jump from that to a death wish!
Yes, O'Keefe, I can!
She stole my boy.
Like Selene's abduction of Cephalus,
she ripped him from his one true love, and for what?
For money.
Birgit has an unquenchable lust for what is ours.
Her bastard spawn does too.
You mark my words.
The worst is yet to come.
I'm thinking maybe we should, um...
we should head towards the...
No! L-Liv, don't!
Aah!
No...
No, no, no.
No! No!
No! No! No! No!
Fuck!
No!
Oh, you could've had everything.
But your heart was too big.
I promise you, he felt it.
Seamus felt your pain.
He paid for what he did.
Um...
I can come back later.
They just sent me
to get some stuff for breakfast.
Uh, Jayden...
He, uh...
He...
He really loved people.
Like... genuinely.
Like, not because he had to.
He just...
He was hungry for connection.
He showed me what could be so great about that.
You know, he made me believe
that life outside this trash-fire hell house
could be worth something.
Every day's gonna suck so bad without him making it better.
Thank you.
I learned to cook in a small trailer kitchen
alongside my mother.
You know, good, simple food,
rice and beans, fried steak and mash,
that sort of thing.
So now when I need some comfort food,
I just whip up one of those recipes,
and it all comes back.
Good, caring people.
Simpler times.
In honor of that, we are going to make a Moroccan omelette.
Okay.
It sounds fancy, but it's all in the spices.
Jayden loved these.
Oh, no, no.
I-I do not cook.
No, we just, like... we go out or whatever.
- Uh-huh. - Yeah.
Nonsense. Everyone needs to know how to make a few staples.
- Uh, okay. Okay. - It's okay.
The secret to making a fluffy omelette
is beating the whites into stiff peaks
and then folding in the yolks after.
I do what... exactly?
Okay. You're alright. You got it.
Just take... Use the beater.
Take the beater. Put it in the bowl.
- Okay. - Turn it on high
and let it rip.
- Just... - Yeah.
Okay. Okay. Okay.
- Oh, my God! Oh, my God! - It's okay! You're okay!
It's okay. Take it out.
- Don't judge me! - No, I'm not!
I'm not! I'm not! You're fine. You're fine.
Here, why don't I do this and, um...
how about you toast some spices for us?
- Okay. - Yeah?
Yeah, yeah.
- Uh, okay. - That's right.
Cool. Just here?
Put it over the heat. Shake them around.
- Keep mixing them. - Oh, okay.
Now, the trick is, um, don't let them burn.
- Just shake it. - Okay.
And let me know when you smell something.
Aah! Fuck!
Ah, fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
What happened?
I'm bleeding...
like Lady M, for my art.
This is the one that sets the art world on fire.
I'm a Vesuvius of talent they can't ignore.
Hmm.
Oh, I'm sure you find it difficult
to understand my creation.
Oh, no, no. I get it.
Right. 'Course.
You recognize great art when you see it
because you studied bedpans and sponge baths
in nursing school.
I have eyes.
How's it coming? Smell anything?
Oh, yeah! I smell cumin!
- Right? - Yeah!
Actually, take it off the heat.
I still need to chop up some leeks here.
Oh, I could do that if you want.
OK.
Watch your fingers, honey.
She has a real taste for them.
It's hard to imagine anyone hating her that much.
But I never pictured her as someone that could...
kidnap a little boy, so...
I'm so sorry, Liv.
This is just awful.
I'm done.
I need to get the fuck off this island... now.
You said it yourself. The boat's not seaworthy.
It's too dangerous.
And being here isn't?
If you're smart, you'll come with me.
Okay.
I think I'd do that.
But you have to prove to me the boat will make it.
Deal.
Try to eat something, honey.
Oh, no.
Those are paintball guns, right? Thank God.
Wait for it. There's always a twist.
"Grab your guns.
You have 15 minutes to find a place to hide
anywhere on the island before hunting season
officially opens on you.
The winner gets to stay in the bunker
with the person who comes in second
until the next competition,
'breathing' free and easy."
So whoever wins is safe from the killer.
Unless whoever's doing this is your bunkee.
Um...
Okay.
There are no goggles or masks in here.
Spencer didn't believe
in protective equipment.
Riding or tricycling...
Dad believed that scars
would help us remember where we went wrong.
No, Aphra. No, honey.
You're not playing. She... She's not playing.
Aphra! No. No. It's too dangerous.
Aphra, Jesus!
Gentle, for God sakes!
Aah!
Ow.
I sorry.
It's not that bad, alright?
Stop being a little wuss.
What the fuck?!
I sorry! I sorry! I sorry!
Honey, honey, honey, it's okay. Sweetie, it was an accident.
A paintball should not do that kind of damage, right?
This is not paint. It's rubber.
It's like shooting rubber bullets.
People will get hurt.
I think that's the point.
And that speed is cranked way past game level.
We need to pad up.
Yeah, you do.
Okay. She's gonna be a problem.
For every one of us.
No one shoot Aphra in the face!
Sh-She's a kid, for Christ sakes.
We are so fuckin' dead.
Meet at the ravine if you wanna knock Liv out
and play a fairer version of the game.
What's the holdup?
I think I got the gun with the bum trigger,
the one that Liv didn't like.
Mom, what happens if it doesn't shoot?
Just pull it apart and clean it.
Well, I don't know how to do that.
Hey, go down there and hide.
No! I'm playing!
- I'm not... - You've never shot a gun,
which I blame myself for.
And you panic under stress because, unlike the rest of us,
you didn't grow up playing The Most Dangerous Game
at every family reunion.
I am telling you, my love,
for your very own good...
scurry down.
Like Orpheus.
Good. Now, I can focus and not worry about you.
- Ugh. - Now, don't come out
until you hear my dulcet tones heralding it's all clear.
Ugh.
I thought we're working as a team.
We are.
First, we're gonna go "Apocalypse Pow" on Liv,
take five minutes to reload.
Then, the real game begins
with whoever's left standing.
Ready?
I'm not letting you gang up on Liv.
Oh.
She's playing you like Pan, Theo.
She's my friend!
And how did your friend manage to escape a psychopath
no one else on this island has been able to avoid?
Oh! C-Can I answer?
'Cause she's the killer.
- Go to the front of the class. - No way.
I've been with her half the time.
That's because you have feelings for her,
which are highly inappropriate given the circumstances.
And I am not just talking about her station in life.
It is time for you to stop slumming in the basement
and take your rightful spot upstairs,
with your family.
With my family?
We're not a family.
We're a conglomerate of fucked-up people!
With a logo for a last name!
And sure, it's shiny,
and it gets us noticed,
but it's also empty and hollow and soulless.
Which is exactly the opposite of what a family should be!
And the minute you realize...
Aah! Fuck!
- Fuck! Fuck! - Vincent!
I'm tired of the fuckin' speeches.
Oh, honey, I know you don't think it,
but we can't take any chances with our future!
- This is for all of us! - This is for you,
like it always is, and we all know it!
Lee?
I'm very pleased to meet you.
I'm sorry. What's going on?
Oh.
Lee is my nom de plume. I'm...
No, no, no. I know who you are.
We received the slides. Your work was reviewed,
and I'm afraid the gallery's not interested.
There's no need to show your work in person.
Oh, but the quality of my slides didn't do my work justice.
The... The lighting...
You've copied an artist who's a master commentator
on personal identity, and you added nothing.
We deal in authentic creative voices here,
not kitsch copycats.
No one took Van Gogh seriously either.
Oh, your type comes through here all the time.
Bored, rich,
wearing a designer starving artist costume.
You want to be an artist,
but you're not a creative person.
You don't see the world uniquely.
There's no emotion in anything you do.
You don't risk yourself.
You're playing desperate dress-up, dearie.
You're a wannabe with too much time on her hands.
Go back to doing your Van Gogh puzzles.
Maybe, if you cut your ear off,
someone will take you seriously.
Ugh.
Aah!
Alright, Liv, come out now, and I promise you an allowance.
Alrighty! You wanna earn your money?
We have a position that just opened up for a housekeeper.
Our last one was positively buried in her work!
Holy fuck Can she get angry!
Fuck!
Would you fucking shoot?
Is there a reason why your family
keeps trying to sleep with mine?
Did you ride Theo first?
Or did your mom break him in for you?
Oh!
My mom should've fucking drowned you.
Over there.
Ow!
Woo! Woo!
I got her! Woo!
Can you believe it? I didn't think we'd get her.
Right?
Oh!
An eye for a finger!
A motherfuckin' eye for a finger!
Get yourself back to the house.
I'm grabbin' O'Keefe, and I'm going to the bunker.
Fuck!
Why is it open?
Probably on a timer, like half this stuff.
Go in.
Hey.
Thank you for saving me.
I thought you said this place sucked.
Well, I would've placed the couch over there
and chosen a bolder palette.
When did primary colours become such a dirty word?
But all in all, Dad did pretty good.
I could totally sleep here.
Spa day for the winners.
O-M-G, O'Keefe.
We're saved.
- What? - It's not L'Antica's,
but pizza.
What?
Theo loves pizza.
I know.
I can't believe I trusted that bitch.
Let's get you cleaned up.
You good?
Jesus Christ.
Is it bad?
I'm pretty sure she's gonna lose the eye.
We're running out of gauze.
Could you rustle up some clean sheets to cut into strips?
I'll find something.
Aphra?
Ugh.
Thanks.
You okay?
Don't hate the player. Hate the game, man.
Whoever's doing this is using our willingness
to fuck each other over to slaughter us,
but, you know, keep on keeping on.
Okay. So what should we be doing?
The bunker.
Grandad did some renos last year,
and I'd bet it's where he's hiding all that stuff
we'd like to get our hands on,
weapons, controls, communication systems,
- medical supplies. - Your mom is never gonna
unlock that door.
In my experience, every security system's
got a workaround.
Maybe I can convince her to hand over the first aid kit.
Hmph! Not big on sharing, that one.
Then I'll beat it out of her.
You need pain meds, Grace.
Someone should stay back and keep an eye on her.
Me.
Yeah, I'll do it.
Okay. So, we could sneak Vincent and Theo in.
Like, there's so much room.
I would change places with them in a second,
but we have to follow your grandad's rules.
That is not my grandad.
- Not anymore. - He is!
He knew that I would end up here,
and I'd be the one to protect the three of you.
It's actually better this way.
How? How is it better?
It would've been absolutely soul-destroying
to have to choose between your brothers.
I've gone in a more personal direction in my work.
Oh.
What is that?
It's okay. It's just sand.
The inspiration for this installation
bubbled up from a place I daren't go, but I braved it,
and I feel I need to share it with you.
Now, what I want is an open, honest reaction
to what you see in front of you
to what I've created.
Mom, the thing is, I'm... I'm no expert.
Just listen. Don't think.
Engage.
Okay, Theo.
So you ran to Sandy Beach. What happened next?
Me and Vincent saw a boat.
And who was on the boat?
They had ski mask things on their face.
How many people did you see?
Two.
And then, what happened?
They took Vincent and put him on the boat.
- Did they try to take you? - Stop this.
Witness is shaking his head, indicating no.
Turn this off. Turn it off!
Okay. So what happened next?
I told the man to leave Vincent alone,
but they took him anyway.
I told him, but the other man hit me
and pushed me in the sand, and I couldn't breathe.
I call it... "Save Me."
Okay, Theo. So you ran to Sandy Beach.
What happened next?
Me and Vincent saw a boat.
And who was on the boat?
They had ski mask things on their face.
Remember that day, Theo.
How many people did you see?
Two.
Remember what you did.
We've spent so many years not talking about it,
it's like a canker on our souls.
Please, tell me.
- Did they try to take you? - Tell me.
Witness is shaking his head, indicating no.
HELP, THEO!
I tried to save him, Mom.
I told the man to leave Vincent alone.
I tried so hard to get him back! I wasn't strong enough!
They took him! I tried, but I couldn't!
I tried!
- I fucking tried! - Okay, Theo.
So you ran to Sandy Beach. What happened next?
You kids...
are my greatest works of art.
I love you so much.
Yeah. Have some more champagne, Mom.
- Mom, what the fuck's that? - Don't panic.
We won, remember?
Success has nothing to do with luck.
You make your own damn luck.
Sometimes at great personal cost.
But personal feelings don't belong in a boardroom.
You have to make inconceivably difficult decisions
without hesitation.
Whoever runs this company
will have to be ruthless to their core,
and that will be tested for the rest of your life
- starting now. - Wait. Atest?
Mom, I don't want to do a test.
Only one of you can win.
Oh, my God.
It's bolted or something.
Oh, no, no, no. Help! Let me out!
Let me out!
- Let me out! No, Mom! - Calm down! Calm down!
Let me out! No, no, no, no!
- Calm down! - No, mom!
Come here. Go. Come here.
Look. Look at me! Look at me!
This is the safe room, okay? There has to be oxygen, masks,
tanks, something like that... Go look!
Look for anything like that!
Tank! Mom, here! Atank!
- Mom! - Mask!
- One mask. - Hurry!
Please, hurry!
- Hurry, please! - What if it's not oxygen?
Jesus, Mom, we're gonna fucking die anyway!
Can you hurry up? I'm starting to feel weird!
Come on!
Oxygen. - Oh!
What do you think? Can you... override it?
That's a solid maybe with the right tools.
We gotta get in there!
I need something like a paperclip
for the anti-tamper switch.
Fuck.
You know, would this work?
Mom...
Mommy...
Mom... Mom... Mommy...
Mom...
Mommy...
Mommy, please!
Mom! Mommy!
Please...
You didn't tell me you were filming me.
I do not give you permission to use my likeness.
Give me all the footage now!
The video is intrinsic to the installation.
Your face plays on the wall behind the statue.
What, so it's like I'm watching Vincent
get abducted in perpetuity?
This isn't about you, Theo.
It is about me, my feelings, my point of view,
the way I perpetually relive my personal tragedy.
Using my trauma.
I've already submitted it to a gallery.
I will find a way to legally stop you.
The noise that will bring will only draw
more attention to the work.
Look, I know that you might not want to be reminded of Vincent,
but I can tell I've nailed it.
The binaries of presence and absence...
You felt it!
This is important work.
You're part of something revolutionary.
Save your bullshit art speak for someone who doesn't know
you have nothing valuable to say
and no ability to see beyond yourself.
The winch! We can use it to wrench open the door.
How heavy is it?
It's heavy, but there's enough of us.
Okay, let's get it.
No more yelling.
Aphra, come away from there.
No! No! No! No! No! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!
I'm so sorry.
What did you do in there?
What did you do?
There was only one mask.
So what happened? You ran out of oxygen?
There was only one... mask.
But you shared, right? With O'Keefe?
There was only one... mask.
And that mask was on you.
Why are you looking at me like that?
'Cause O'Keefe's dead.
Because it should've been you.
Ow! Ow! Ow! You're hurting me!
He's hurting me!
Tell that to O'Keefe!
Aaaah!
Ow! Ow! Stop!
Stop, Theo! Please, stop!
Ow! Aaah!
We can't leave O'Keefe back there!
Oh, now you think about them?
I tried, Theo! I tried! Oh!
Show an ounce of compassion!
The kind you've always shown me?
Vincent! Help me!
What are you planning to do?
Where are you taking me?
I'm putting her on trial.
Aah!
I understand everybody's upset, but I...
- What are you doing?! - Making art, Ma.
What?! Oh, my God!
- Hold her here. - Aaah!
You don't have to do what he says!
Aah! Stop it!
Oh, no! Don't worry! Don't worry!
This is just my point of view.
- My feelings. - Oh, my God.
Run to the house. Tell them I need help!
Go! You little idiot!
And tell who, Mom? Grace, who you blinded?
Or Liv, who you tried to kill?
Stop this, Theo! This has gone far enough!
Oh, no. I'm just getting started.
Oh, my God! Let me out of this thing!
Let me out!
- Aah! - No, no, no.
This is... This is perfect.
I call it...
The Trial of the Mother of the Fucking Decade.
I know I haven't been perfect.
But... no one is.
But you're perfect for this.
And I'm gonna leave you here, where you can be admired,
which is all you ever fuckin' really wanted, right?
Oh, no! Theo, the killer!
You mean you?
If you survive the night, it'll confirm you're the killer.
And I will deal with you in the morning.
No!
And if you die, then you're innocent of everything
but being a vile human being
and killing O'Keefe!
"Dear Ms. Galloway, we are pleased to offer you
a residency at the Giovanni Gallery,
during which time, you can expand
on your kidnapping-focused art."
Oh!
My God.
Yes!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
This is great news.
Making money off your pain?
Parading the family tragedy?
Trotting it out like a fucking tarted-up pig
so people will think you're an artist?
You're pathetic.
I know.
- Don't go! - Bye, Ma!
Please...
No!
Come back!
Don't leave me here!
I don't wanna die!
Someone!
Help me!