I know.
I know what you're thinking.
Not the first to use it.
But with a visual like this,
what does it matter?
So much can be drawn.
Endless numbers in constant motion,
yet rooted in the ground.
It would be easy to point out how so many turn the same way
but never quite together.
And then...
there is my favorite.
There are those who could use poetic imagery
to comment on tilting at these modern windmills.
Me? I just like the way they look.
In case you were wondering,
these fellas ain't taking me on a picnic.
No. They're getting me ready for the Rajah,
a man who's spent the better part of the decade trying to find me.
Well, looks like he found me.
So they're going to hurt me,
to reintroduce me to Lady Pain,
almost to the point of dying.
Long lost...
but not quite.
Say, maybe they'll get tired of beating me after a while.
Well, it's not a perfect plan,
but it'll have to do... for now.
Enough.
Enough!
The sun's taking a powder.
We need to put the icing on our little pal's welcome-home cake.
Wait.
He said the elevator's too slow.
He said take the stairs.
The suave devil you see here is Walter.
His boys just gave me a beating that'll have them waking up sore in the morning.
I should be on death's door.
Walter thinks so.
And you probably think so, too.
But I have damn good reason to keep living.
The only one that ever mattered.
Her.
I suppose this is where I wake up again.
Ooh. That smarts.
Blade must have been German.
Ahh...
Zeldingun steel.
The tongue never lies.
That's good.
Gonna have to remember that one.
Gasoline.
Nose must be really messed up to not smell that.
Mmm...
Much better.
But whose blood is this?
Mine... or Walter's?
Doesn't really taste like mine.
But then again...
some of it could be from Walter's pals.
It's been 10 years since I left this godforsaken place,
and I need to think.
But I'm so very tired of thinking.
Maybe it's best to just sleep on it.
The only problem is...
when I sleep, I remember.
And nothing hurts quite like that.
When I was a child,
the fairy tale was a wondrous thing,
full of magic and hope.
But when you grow older,
fairy tales are no longer so wonderful.
They represent foolish dreams,
the unreachable.
Like many fairy tales, our story begins with a king,
a man named Nikolai.
There was a girl Nikolai loved more than life itself:
Tatiana.
But Nikolai knew there was a darkness inside that would corrupt her,
so he had to leave Tatiana and his heart behind.
We would not know how Nikolai became king.
We just know he was a king.
A ruthless king
with his best friend, the Maharajah, by his side.
The Maharajah had a son he treasured more than anything,
The Rajah.
And there was also Sergei, Nikolai's willful brother.
Reckless and charming,
Sergei had desire and passion aplenty
and a daughter he loved so very dearly:
Porphyria.
My beautiful princess.
But Sergei also had envy for his brother,
for he had no kingdom.
Eventually, this pushed Nikolai too far.
You will leave, Sergei.
How dare you.
Breathing or not, you will leave.
This I will not forgive.
A year later...
Brother!
Sergei returned.
Of course you remember Tatiana.
Tatiana could not realize the storm she was entering.
Of course, Nikolai had never stopped loving her.
She grew troubled.
It's never easy loving one man, let alone two brothers.
She went to the Maharaja for advice.
Crazed by her emotions,
Tatiana turned to medicines the Maharaja gave her,
medicines meant to relax.
But instead, they disoriented her,
allowing other unscrupulous men
to take advantage of her confusion.
One day, Tatiana discovered she was pregnant.
It could be yours.
It could be Sergei's. It could be another's.
Another's?
Is it mine?
I don't know.
I'm sorry.
When Tatiana, my mother,
gave birth to a miserable wretch of a baby boy,
she truly did not know who the father was.
The strain began to drive her mad.
I can't say it did wonders for me... either.
I want you to remember...
no matter what happens,
I will always...
always love you.
But, Mommy,
I love you.
But that was not enough to stop her
from eventually making a choice...
to leave this place...
and all the suffering
and me... behind.
Great.
Forgot about Vassily.
My life in a nutshell.
Just once...
Just once I'd like to keep the perfect sleep.
You know the one I'm talking about.
You fall asleep on a train or someone's couch
or in a hospital...
and it's perfect.
The ecstasy of the unlikely.
And then some bastard wakes you up,
and you can't get it back no matter how hard you try.
You never knew it was perfect until you lost it.
And all you have left is that sick, burning desire to get it back.
The perfect sleep.
Speaking of which,
you probably think this is one of those stories,
a study of the shadows,
dark and dirty and utterly amoral.
Say, nice shot.
Sorry if it seems kind of cliche,
but the French dig this kind of visual,
and I dig the French.
Walter! You filthy whore!
What the hell's taking you so damn long?
You ready to light this candle or not?
Close enough.
Hello, Vassily.
You shouldn't have come back.
You and your boys brought me back.
He brought me back.
Yes, he did, but something tells me...
you've been asking to be back, hmm?
Didn't you ever hear the nursery rhyme about the little boy with the big mouth...
and a gun in his chest and a bullet for every orifice?
Forgive me.
I'm not too good with the classics.
Maybe you were waiting for that beautiful girl with the dark hair, huh?
Tread lightly, Vassily.
The Rajah's going to kill you,
and then I hope I'll be here for his next trick...
when he kills her.
I know so many ways to kill this guy,
some of them painless.
Unfortunately for him...
Oops.
You never should have mentioned her.
Some of you clever-types might think this is the kinda story
where it all kinda makes sense in the end.
Wrong.
When Nikolai found his beloved Tatiana,
he was overcome by the darkness inside him.
Nikolai lost the love of his life
and his best friend and brother.
Porphyria would never see her father again.
Why did he leave me?
I would never see my mother.
Ours was a bond forged by grief.
Like a good uncle, Nikolai took the three orphans in,
and in his way, grew to love this boy who was not his own,
I think.
I was treated differently because of who I was
and who I could be.
The Rajah has always blamed me for the death of his father.
As a boy, he worshipped the Maharajah.
And that made it so very hard to understand
why a man he could not recognize would kill the Maharajah,
especially for who watched his father bleed to death.
Fortunately, there were those who cared for me,
including men I called my cousins.
Cousin Rogozhin, the best man.
He taught me about heart and nobility.
The other, Ganya,
was a different kind of mentor.
A man named Ivan was a friend to me as well.
You must play for years before you even realize
what a truly clumsy player you are.
Don't you think, my dear?
Ivan also cared for Porphyria.
My princess.
I loved her.
I lived for her.
I always shall.
We have a problem.
And that is?
As expected, the Rajah has made his next big move,
and it was a stupid one.
For some idiotic reason, he had his men track down your avenging angel.
But instead of killing him then and there,
they brought him back so the Rajah could kill him this time.
And he wasn't too successful.
You'll hate me for saying this, but...
might be a pity he survived.
The Rajah would have made his point, had his revenge.
We could negotiate.
Now with him back, a catastrophic situation only gets worse.
Worse?
No.
I do believe his return signals a change for the better.
My dear Porphyria...
must you always take things with a grain of sugar?
With what the Rajah did to us, our hands are completely tied.
One man, even this man, won't change that.
He already has, Ivan.
We'll see.
Area's clear.
Fire's under control.
Any signs of him?
A few.
And what of my other men?
Luckily all dead from bullet wounds before the campfire started.
Except for poor Vassily.
He didn't waste any time except on poor well-done Vassily.
An unloaded gun in one hand
and a rather disturbing grimace on what was left of his face.
Seems he got a bit emotional with Vassily.
How disappointing.
You're making a mistake if you think this is going to be cute.
He studied the Good Book.
He's learned a few lessons from the angry Old Testament god.
This is a man who's put away childish things.
You should've killed him when you had the chance.
We grew up...
too quickly.
One fateful day,
we learned some fairy tales were written in blood.
Porphyria, there is something I must tell you.
I was there when Nikolai killed your father.
This is the world we were born into.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
He left Nikolai's house with Ganya,
never to return.
Nobody understood my choice.
Rogozhin felt he had to stay with Nikolai.
He was my hero.
He still is.
Like a father, Nikolai had raised me.
And now he would never forgive me.
I hate to tell you this...
Never one to sit back,
Nikolai told the Rajah Sergei killed his father
with Ganya's help.
Insane with anger, the Rajah condemned us all.
The Rajah has always bee consumed with the idea his father would never have died
if I never existed.
He may be right.
My relationship with Porphyria changed
when we were infected with awareness.
There is no greater loss than innocence.
I dedicated myself to ensuring nobody threatened her.
Then one day...
Let there be peace between us, Porphyria.
...my protection of her was no longer necessary.
Oh, I almost forgot.
Ivan also left Porphyria.
And so...
I was no longer necessary.
You would think this is the first time I've seen her in 10 years.
Not true.
I see her every day.
Every time I close my eyes.
You see, in my own way,
I love this woman they call Porphyria
more than words or images could ever suggest.
As much as I love her, and I truly do love her,
I hate myself even more.
Gregor, please.
Not the face.
As much as I would like to take the credit,
that's not all my work.
Walter's boys set the table for you.
And you relieved Walter and the boys of the burden of breathing.
Something like that.
So, 10 years later, the Tokyo drifter returns.
I thought you would've come back sooner.
You know how it is.
Yeah, I know.
Come on. There are those who've been waiting to see you.
- You can walk, right? - Sure.
Special delivery. Where should I put him?
Here.
Where did you find him?
Outside that window.
How did he pass your security?
Ivan, get the first-aid kit.
You've finally come back to me.
And after seeing me somewhat regularly,
a wind generator repairman once asked...
What particular narcotic did your mother ingest while pregnant
to inspire you to keep coming out here?
Don't know.
What brought you here?
My health.
- Asthma? - Nah.
My wallet and my past ain't healthy.
Desert's cheap and hides skeletons rather well.
He couldn't see why I kept returning.
You must be one of those...
"find myself through solitude and adversity in the wilderness" types.
Well, that's fuckin' great.
But the only thing you're gonna find yourself here, Diogenes,
is a mean case of heatstroke and couple of burnt lungs.
The only thing left is to kill yourself
to get out of this sick, sick heat.
Maybe that's why I come out here.
Welcome home.
Your legend has grown quite a bit in your absence.
You know that the younger men refer to you as the Mad Monk?
I believe it to be an apt choice.
Not so much because of your stubborn resistance to death and injuries,
but because of the unusual, painful methods you have chosen to express your worship.
I see at least two wounds need stitches.
You're losing a lot of blood.
I've heard that's a rather pleasant way to die.
Really?
What dead person told you that?
I'll call our doctor.
No.
I'll rest now.
The bandages don't help, I'll use duct tape.
You are so ridiculous, and you need to sleep.
But I don't even want to let you do that.
Do you need me to go to work now?
No, of course not.
I'm worried about your head injuries.
God has never been that kind to me.
You would like that, wouldn't you?
Slipping away in your sleep, beating me to the punch?
Of killing you for driving me so insane.
You haven't changed a bit.
Nothing's changed.
Please...
don't.
Enough. Ivan Fyodo, enough!
Do you know what we gain if he gets to the Rajah?
I'm talking about not standing in the way of the inevitable.
Can you not see we are literally a half-second from doom?
Literally, no. There's another way.
The way of the idiot?
We'll all be buried if we don't play this right.
I have nothing against him. I know what he can do.
But we cannot make a mistake.
The Rajah has planned this for ages.
And I will not lose my daughter!
Perhaps I forgot to tell you.
In time, Ivan and Porphyria were blessed with their own princess, Nadya.
While Nikolai lives in the past, his empire decays.
Distracted, he lets another run his kingdom.
A man still bent on revenge.
...way to Tipperary
To the sweet--
Mommy?
Not quite.
Doesn't get much lower than kidnapping a child.
But the Rajah wouldn't go this far if there wasn't something else he wanted so very badly:
The one that got away.
For a long time, the Rajah's been looking to find me,
looking to kill me.
And because of all that has happened,
I have done what I swore that I would never do:
Go home.
You have come about the lost one.
The one so intimate with death,
but never with dying.
Father, I had to find him.
And... in all that we do, I...
I wonder if you are right.
- Yet, I feel that-- - My son...
you know how often I had read Othello.
Yet each and every time I read it,
I hope and yearn and even believe
that she, Desdemona,
might just live this time.
If only...
- Is there no way to fight it? - One thing I have learned:
You cannot feel other than how you feel,
no matter how much you long for different,
better emotions.
We are but slaves to ourselves
and the blood that feeds us.
Porphyria, you pit him against the Rajah, and it will be death of us all.
Consider what they have stolen from me.
From us.
He kidnapped my Nadya.
When do we fight back?
Are you as mad and suicidal as he is?
His return here has sealed his fate.
- Hopefully. - But only his.
I refuse to believe that.
Well, then maybe it's time you protected him from himself.
Give me that.
Send him away, please.
Before the inevitable happens.
I've waited too long.
Like a famous man once told me,
"Less talk, more action."
So, you gonna read me my rights, Officer?
Sure.
You have the right to remove your right strap first.
Slowly.
Are we safe at this speed?
Not for long.
Now the rest.
Ah, hell.
This won't take long.
If you move an inch, baby, I'll kill ya.
This is Pavlovitch. This better be good.
Uh--
Holy Jeff Markham in tights. You're alive after all.
I got your letter.
Just didn't think you were crazy enough to return,
but then I remembered who I was dealing with.
Look, I got your plans, I got your information,
got your little murder toys.
Just give me a few. I'm in the midst of, uh...
upholding the law.
Oh, baby
She can't help it She was born to be wicked #
Yeah.
Baby, oh, baby
She can't help it She was born to be wicked #
She can't help it She was born
You move well for a big man.
But nobody moves like me.
Every now and then, I put on a jacket
and some trousers I haven't worn in a while,
and every now and then, inside a pocket, I find a 10-spot.
Maybe a 20 if I'm really lucky.
There's nothing quite like that feeling of a pleasant little surprise.
You? You're not like that.
Why would you come back?
I didn't come back.
They brought me back.
Probably because your pal Ivan-- or "Ee-van"--
maneuvered them into it.
You don't look like any chess piece I know.
Certainly not a pawn.
No. I'm just unfinished business.
Since you're still alive, that means the Rajah must be slipping.
Or else you've been planning this all along.
Sitting out wherever you were.
Waiting, thinking.
Clickety clickety click.
You know what I don't like about you?
Aside from the fact that I can never get a word in edgewise?
Every now and then I like to thing that this is a random world with no consequences,
no hand of fate,
and if a beam falls on my head right now,
it's just be a matter of time and circumstance.
Whenever I look at you,
I start to think that might not be the case.
You know what that means?
No.
Means we're all fucked, man.
Thanks for the assist.
The old rules apply.
Keep things quiet...
and in-house...
or I'll crush you.
All I want from you is to bring him to us,
and everything will go back to the way it was.
You and I know that's not true.
I know the Rajah's methods.
The poison's already in my bloodstream.
No. But even if it was,
there are many ways to die, my friend.
You know his methods aren't the nicest ones.
So why don't you make it easy on all of us and bring him here?
Never.
You want me to bring in the little girl
and cut off pieces of her in front of you?
Keller.
He'll be on the move now.
No time for talking.
Any last words?
Yeah.
There's a special providence when you follow a sparrow.
And this sparrow will see you both in hell.
Observation and anticipation.
Lessons I learned long ago.
But it's easy for me.
If you don't like to focus on yourself,
a rare quality,
you might listen to others.
An even rarer quality,
if you observe and anticipate,
you might just get something accomplished.
To these eyes, a boring scene.
A well-heeled private clinic hidden in the country,
seemingly devoid of life.
But through these eyes,
the whole world comes alive.
And there he is:
the Rajah's prized possession, Captain Keller.
He's killed more people than you've met.
A good man to avoid.
Oops.
So much for avoiding him.
I trust you're unarmed.
I never enter with a gun.
I've heard that about you.
The Monk.
The Mad Monk.
I've been waiting a long time for this moment.
Shall we begin?
He's so much more skilled than me
and very quick.
But how's his power?
Power's quite good.
In this case, observation and anticipation
don't appear to have done me much good.
I could have used rest.
Or training.
A mistake, I'll grant you.
I have some other techniques,
but they don't seem to be helping me as much as I'd like.
But there's one quality that always sees me through this kind of thing.
No matter how many times I seem to try and get myself killed...
like Winston Churchill told me,
I never, never, never, never...
in nothing, great or small, large or petty,
never give in.
All right.
So maybe anticipation wasn't a total failure after all.
For God's sakes, what is this?
This isn't your M.O.
You work alone.
Except on special occasions.
Captain Keller, meet Dr. Sebastian,
an old acquaintance.
Hello.
As we near the half minute mark, I'll limit my usual, drawn-out anatomy lesson.
The strange sensation you now experience
comes from the laceration of your femoral artery.
If it were a partial tear,
and you had access to qualified medical personnel,
you might have a chance.
But I'm afraid my incision has seen to a complete severing.
Funny, the eccentricities of human existence.
Despite years of martial artistry
and a triathlete's endurance,
one little slice defies this lifetime of training.
The importance of this avenue of blood flow
robs you of your formidable strength each passing second.
Even now you are but a mere infant, mewling and bleeding,
in your nurse's arms, crawling to oblivion.
You won't find what you've come for.
The Rajah will get you.
Shh.
As I've opened the floodgates of your very mortality,
may I suggest you quickly choose one subject to dwell on
instead of many?
I certainly wouldn't recommend you worry about work at this point.
Already, you're experiencing the onset.
The clamminess.
The narrowing.
The finality of your life approaches.
Seize that which you cherish most
and hold onto it.
Good night, sweet prince.
Nice of you to share this procedure with me.
I hope you won't think me the blushing virgin
if I reveal that I have been anxiously awaiting this day.
Shall we?
That Keller was quite skilled.
I almost felt like watching to see if even you could have outlasted him.
It might have been close.
Indeed.
May I suggest you consider working on your defense a bit?
You concentrate entirely too much on attack.
Your coat, sir.
And your card.
Oh, dear.
Let's straighten up that collar.
It's too bad about the blood, but it is a clinic.
There. That's better.
Everything is set. I shall see you shortly.
As talented as Sebastian is,
I have to say I hesitated to ask for his help.
Hey! How you been, Doc?
Couldn't be better, Alberto.
Couldn't be better.
Maybe it's just because, unlike me,
he enjoys what he does so much.
Despite what you might think,
I have never taken joy in killing.
In fact, I hate what I do. I just happen to be good at it.
Head's up. We got company.
What are you doing down here, sir?
Lung therapy.
The pneumothorax is most unpleasant, isn't it?
My scalpels punctured one of each of your lungs.
Even now, your lung collapses.
Hardly fatal, but, oh, so painful.
Yet, I know what you're thinking.
What if both lungs are pierced?
I can assure you
the resulting death takes far longer than it should
under the watchful eye of a merciful God.
But as with all things,
our very biological structure promise us
that if it be now, 'tis not to come.
If it be not to come, it will be now.
If it be not now, yet it will come.
Good sirs,
the readiness is all.
Sebastian will see to the generator in three...
- Eyes! - two...
one.
I can handle the rest.
She looks so very much like her mother.
Don't you think?
She looks like you, too.
"Dr. Myshkin"?
No.
She does not.
It's been such a long time since we've seen each other.
So very long.
There was a time we greeted each other differently.
There was a time we greeted each other.
Has Nikolai been treating you well?
Up till now.
I'm sorry it's come to this.
I will not follow.
You be gentle with her.
Tell her mother I allowed this peaceably.
Don't hurt any more of my men...
or I will find you.
Understood.
Good-bye, cousin.
Thank you.
Since I was a boy, he took care of me.
And this is how I repay him.
I hate myself.
Forgive me, cousin.
North quad is clear.
Shh. As you go to sleep,
let me explain the effects of strangulation on your laryngeal muscles.
Stay right there!
Jugular, carotid, jugular.
Carotid, jugular.
Sebastian!
No more. Please.
Do you only kill now in her name?
No.
Only if necessary.
- Or when it's deserved. - Deserved?
Why, if that were the case, comrade,
you could never stop to rest.
Still, I must admit,
you disappoint me.
How fitting.
Not a day in my life passes that I don't disappoint myself.
Ah, there's the rub.
Still, despite certain fixations,
I never thought you'd succumb to the notion of the preciousness of life.
Does it seems so ludicrous when you look upon her?
She is magnificent.
As beautiful as she is sweet.
And yet, an organism not so different
from yonder snail that streaks across the outer wall.
Do the snail's parents want nothing but the best for their child?
Do they grieve at the child's passing if it goes before them?
No, my friend.
Not even such an angelic face would have me believe.
Yes, I know.
I must go. Thank you, old friend.
Anytime, tovarich.
I await your next call.
Ah!
Ivan!
Coming!
We need to talk.
- Nadya! - When did she leave?
Doctor, quickly! Nadya's back!
Give her to me. I'll take care of her.
Ivan, this is what I'm here for.
I need to make sure she's all right.
Please hurry.
Come on, Nadya.
When?
I don't know. I thought she was with you.
No.
He knew.
It seems I'm not as clever as I thought
Nikolai knew I would go for Nadya.
He always told me to have a contingency plan.
Hello, my niece.
You've lost the right to call me that
the day you killed my father.
That, like so much else, was an unfortunate necessity.
How can you say that?
You forget that Sergei brought her here to spite me.
And that is nothing compared to the fact
that he abandoned her just like he abandoned your mother.
He was your brother, Nikolai
You cannot understand.
Tatiana was an angel, utterly pure,
and Sergei brought her into my world.
And she--
love of my life--
killed herself...
because of Sergei.
That was unforgivable.
Then you should have killed yourself,
and none of this would have happened.
I have thought about it once or twice.
If I had,
Porphyria's lover might not exist,
and I don't mean Ivan.
How dare you.
Yes.
How dare I.
Meanwhile, in spite of all my efforts,
the Rajah will not stop until he has his vengeance.
Will you tell him the truth?
That you killed his father.
Or just kill the Rajah?
Don't both of us know that I cannot do that?
It pains me to tell you this.
The Rajah has him.
He went to the clinic to try and rescue your beautiful Nadya,
and together they very nearly escaped.
I don't-- I don't believe you.
I have managed to hold the Rajah at bay, Porphyria.
But now I need your help to save him.
Why would you do that?
You think that I who raised him
wish to see him suffer?
You took Nadya. I don't trust you.
Perhaps you shouldn't.
You bastard.
You will thank me, eventually.
When all this is brought to an end
and your daughter is returned to you,
the truce is restored,
you can live in peace.
And as for my wayward prodigal son,
God have mercy upon him.
He will die in peace so all this can happen.
He's not your son.
Perhaps not, but trust me when I tell you this.
I will put an end to his suffering.
That much he will know.
I swear.
The center of the city is the downtown metropolis portion.
To me, the center of the city
is that point which allows you to get you where you need to be
- as quickly as possible.
- Yes? - Hello, Ivan.
Nice night for a drive, don't you think?
If you ever want to see Porphyria alive again,
be at the bunkers in two hours...
with him. Only one car will be allowed in.
For God's sake, be reasonable. I can't get there that fast.
All right. You have two hours and one minute.
The bunkers.
The Rajah couldn't resist.
I see his point.
His father died here.
We were trained here.
Differences were always settled here.
And now the blood spilled on this concrete must be getting lonely.
The Rajah already has his men in place.
He can arrive shortly with everything planned.
Ready for Ivan and me to arrive...
an hour from now.
The renowned samurai Miyamoto Musashi
lived in Japan a long time ago.
An artist and philosopher,
he was ridiculously talented with the sword
and just as formidable strategically.
Sometimes, Musashi arrived late to a fight
because it made his opponent anxious.
And sometimes...
sometimes Musashi arrived early.
To be honest,
I'm torn as to how I really feel about night vision.
Practical, yes,
but it tends to make this kind of thing into a video game.
Taking somebody's life should not be like this.
Easy. Distant.
Almost fun.
They have her covered.
I can't kill them all in time.
- What is it? - It's nothing.
I don't know. Look out.
Good thing I won't need to.
I don't think they know who they're dealing with.
Porphyria, please. Do not kill him.
None of my actions are his fault.
He's opposed me in all of this.
My time is done here. See you later, my boy.
Lovely lady...
I've waited for you my whole life.
Daddy, where's mommy?
She is magnificent.
But this is no longer her fight.
For what he has done this night,
I could have killed him already.
But the Rajah's earned the right to see my face
at the time of reckoning.
Go.
No.
- Please. - No.
You must leave now.
Take their car. Call Ivan.
He's already on his way.
I share as much history with him as you do.
I deserve vengeance as much as you.
Perhaps even more so. I'm not leaving.
Perhaps you will still get that chance.
But this is no longer your concern.
There's a little angel waiting for you.
She's unharmed and oh so beautiful.
Please go to her.
Please.
Was it my father who killed the Rajah's father?
The Rajah killed my cousin Ganya.
Who's to say more of his ancestors did not kill more of mine?
How must this all look from his point of view?
What fate imprisons us that we must now do this?
What have we become?
So fast.
I could die here. Maybe I should die here.
Pithing, the art of severing the spinal cord at the neck.
It's the Rajah's specialty.
How does it feel to die at my hands...
as you kiss life goodbye, knowing she will soon follow?
Tell me.
How does it feel?
Or it was.
I will show my true form.
I will baptize myself with hate.
I wanted you to taste victory,
to think that you would go unpunished.
I wanted you to consider tomorrow
as you fight for breath that will not come.
I want you to think of life and all that you cherish
and to ache with every fiber of your being for what you cannot have!
I want you to do what I do every day.
I want you to suffer.
I believe I already told you.
Anticipation is one of my specialties.
If brain hypoxia sets in, he'll die,
and I just can't let that happen.
Not to him.
No.
That would be too easy.
I'll revive him.
But first, a little surgery.
Never again will you touch her.
Never will you hurt her.
You shall be like me, my brother.
A prisoner of your own flesh.
Special delivery, Nikolai.
Merry Christmas.
Nadya!
Nadya! Nadya!
Oh, my baby!
I've been expecting you, my pale Tetsuya.
I can see that.
Oh, this?
Just my usual narcotic nightcap.
There.
I'm cured.
Let's get a look at you.
Well...
Added a few to the tapestry of pain, I see.
So what's your story, genius?
Come back into town on your big white horse,
kill a bunch of killers
so you can save a beautiful little girl and her beautiful little mother
that you can never really tell how you feel?
Interesting.
Your tooth?
Hmm.
Where was I?
Still trying to preserve some fantasy of purpose and nobility
in a world that has none?
Got a few ribs broken?
Something like that.
So what do you need?
I need to finish my work tonight.
That's a good one.
And if I thought you were a total fucking idiot,
I'd think you were actually talking about going to Nikolai's place.
Let me get my painkillers, idiot.
I'm going to keep you as lucid and functional as possible.
You'll be in intense and debilitating pain,
which I imagine will come as somewhat of a relief for you.
Sunday afternoon stuff.
You know, you did the world a great disservice by,
well, whatever the hell it was you did to the Rajah.
He had such a bright medical future.
It's funny how things conspire to derail a life,
to ensure that what was meant to be...
never happens.
Yeah, funny.
Now, I would love to get into your medical history one day.
What do you know about your father?
I know I never knew who my father is...
or was...
out of the men that he could be.
Well, that clears that up.
But I have my own theories on that end.
And the great wildcard, Mommy Dearest?
Long story.
Yeah, I know.
My mother was very generous.
She passed on a certain predilection for addiction
that not even a lifetime of medical education has overcome.
Score one for heredity.
Is that was this is?
Resigned finality?
Bowing to the hand of fate?
Just remember the story of Flitcraft, my friend.
He vanished and left his old life behind for a new one.
Flitcraft never wanted to go back to his old life.
That was kind of the point.
Thank you, Grand Inquisitor.
I'll try to remember that.
Hmm. Where do you want me to move the queen?
Should I?
Are you all right?
What happened?
I...
negotiated with the Rajah.
How did you know where to find her?
I have my ways.
God, you really do.
Let's continue.
It's your turn?
You can't go.
Oh, please. Don't even say it.
Neither one of us is going to convince him.
I'm going to see Nikolai.
You absolutely are not.
This-- All of this ends tonight.
- You owe me nothing. - That's not true.
Go to him.
- How can you keep doing this to me? - To you?
- I'm doing this for you. - They'll kill you.
Maybe not. I could get unlucky.
Please, listen.
Listen to me. Please don't leave.
Don't leave me again.
Porphyria, don't do this. Not now.
It doesn't have to be like this.
If the Rajah's really dead, then Nikolai's gonna leave us alone.
- He will! - Please.
Even if by some miracle that was true,
I need to see him...
one last time.
You don't have to be so invulnerable, you know?
Whatever happened to the beautiful boy that I knew,
the boy that saved me, the boy that I loved?
Please.
What happened?
That boy, the one you loved,
that little boy who loved you so,
his mother killed herself.
He never knew his father.
No.
He only ever wanted...
the one thing he could never have.
Over the years,
I have murdered many, many people.
The first one I killed was that innocent little boy.
I'll do anything. I'll do anything.
No.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my...
You see before you Nikolai's place.
A millionaire built it at the turn of the century as his lasting legacy.
Strangely enough, he fired the architect he first brought on
and hired a young $5.00 a week draftsman named George.
Nobody really knows why.
I hope George was getting more than $5.00 a week
when he delivered these blueprints.
Slowly. Hands raised.
My old friend Kolya.
You know the way.
Ever loyal, ever dangerous.
It is pointless to ask you to leave, yes?
Of course.
You ever find a gun you like?
Sure.
The other guy's.
Still so much gallows humor for such a young man,
especially one so reluctant to die.
Not reluctant.
Just resilient.
Like you taught me to be.
Yes.
Resilient.
Come.
Do you remember the story of the man who designed this place?
Tell me again, please.
Untrained as an architect,
he only agreed to design this place after he consulted his brother,
his dead brother, using a Ouija board.
Oh, that kooky George.
Yes. Kooky.
Sadly, this place was George's one moment of brilliance.
He actually became a full-fledged architect,
but an undistinguished one.
It seems either school or this building
conspired to suck all the creative genius out of George.
Still, if you had to have one instance of divine inspiration and achievement,
not bad.
Wait here, please.
Soon, Nikolai's men will enter this room,
ready to kill me.
Seems like a good time to catch up on my sleep.
It's time.
And there he is, the man himself.
Thank God.
He still doesn't miss a beat.
These B-movie mongrels still belong to him.
Gentlemen?
They don't know the history between all of us.
Is he clean?
As ever.
Very well.
You know, in this light, I can almost see your cousin.
But it is the resemblance to your father that stops the mind.
You agree, Kolya?
Wow.
Something wrong?
No.
This is just a very, very big basement.
Has it been so long since you last saw it?
I think not.
Still, I was hoping to be spared all this pain.
Once, seeing you was like a benediction.
And now?
Now, why do this to my adopted son?
Rats.
There goes all the small talk I was looking forward to.
It's been so long since I've seen Porphyria.
Liar.
Her daughter, of course, is a revelation.
Alas, I would regret the way things have turned out
if I thought we, each of us, could do anything about it.
Next?
Not bad, Little Boy Blue, but your kick lacks power.
You need to bring the force up through your leg,
into your hips,
chamber your kick and then explode.
Much better.
Rise and shine, mate.
No. No.
Nikolai.
- Cousin... - Don't you dare do this.
Don't you dare!
Stop this!
Not him!
Cousin.
What are you waiting for? Pull the bloody trigger.
No!
It's better you than these bastards.
Please. I can't.
Now pull that bloody trigger.
Pull that trigger!
Nikolai!
Pull the trigger!
You can't do this!
I'll see you on the other side.
Cousin.
Forgive me.
Not so bad.
Only one candidate for the tooth fairy.
Oh, God.
I almost forgot what they did, what I did.
Radiant dawn, my son.
I used to have a watch just like that.
It was given to me many years ago.
I'm sorry about your cousin.
You did not deserve his loyalty.
Neither did I.
Will it truly be a relief to die?
Not sure.
Never been dead yet.
Your situation,
our situation,
reminds me of the books I enjoyed when I was a younger man.
I suppose there was no choice,
considering who your parents are.
Do you want to know the truth about your father?
I guess the answer depends on who he was.
Or is.
Before you die, I will tell you.
But first, I have a question.
Why not kill him with dignity?
This grotesque thing you have done,
trapping him in his body to die a slow, terrible death.
Why?
I suppose I was feeling metaphorical.
Not good enough.
Why then surface here?
You won't like the answer.
How do you know?
It's not very romantic.
Doesn't need to be.
A part of me knew you would choose to face me alone.
You're right.
Not very romantic.
Why then the sadness when victory is imminent?
There was a time when I thought--
maybe even hoped--
that you truly were the one.
You don't think I am?
You think that two-faced fate
has destined you to take my life?
You know that's not what I'm talking about.
Then what are we talking about?
Why this intimate face-to-face
when you could have killed so long ago?
You had so many opportunities over the years.
Do you truly need to see me die by your hand?
What makes you sure that I will be the one who dies this night?
I who taught the Rajah the ways of the knife.
I who taught maybe even your father the ways of the knife.
I who taught you...
the ways of the knife.
That was a very, very long time ago.
There are those who say that amongst the masters,
the fight is won and lost in the minds of the combatants
before either one makes a move.
Are you now one such master, my son?
How do you expect to survive against all these men in these halls?
How do you expect to survive against your bastardized, unfulfilled life?
How do you expect to survive against me?
Because...
I want to kill you more than you want to live.
Nikolai always goes for the heart.
He never missed...
- until now. - Your father--
Shh.
For want of a tooth, a kingdom was lost.
Like I always say,
some things are better left in the dark.
One bullet out of ten in the clip.
Rounds two and three.
Four.
Das vadanya, Nikolai.
Sweet dreams.
Damn. Five was low.
Try six on for size.
Here comes seven and eight.
Just as I thought, as rotten as Denmark.
Nine, ten.
Always sleeping on the job.
Wake up.
- Come on, wake up. - What are you doing here?
You know how it is.
Weekend, out cruising with the boys, looking for a party.
You look better than usual.
I imagine you slept through all this mayhem
and really had nothing to do with any of it.
You know I never carry a gun.
How are you still alive?
Now, you tell her this is the last time.
I don't owe her any more favors, thank God.
You, I owe a couple more,
but somehow I don't think you're ever gonna collect.
I hope you're right, good Pavlovitch.
I seem to be experiencing a bit of an epiphany.
So long, brother.
For the first time in my life,
I feel like I've been part of a job well done.
The operative word being "done."
Can you hear me, Mother?
I could really use some help right now.
I wonder when George realized this place was it,
that he would never achieve such heights again.
Did George know his father?
Did George kill his father?
If can just do what you did, dear Mother,
and make a leap of faith.
But so far, just enough for Mr. Newton's messy lesson.
Just enough for 32 feet per second squared to take over.
Almost there, Mother.
Oh, fuck!
I guess there's goes plan B.
Damn.
Body's broken...
and I'm losing blood fast...
but not fast enough.
Lyovshka.
Why?
Tell me why.
They would have killed you.
And yet you would kill yourself in the process?
If necessary.
Necessary?
Did you ever stop and think for a second what that would do to me?
Please don't.
Look at me.
No...
What's that?
What's this?
After all your silly posturing, you want to do this?
Please go away!
Please stop!
Just go.
You come into my life,
you come into my daughter's life for what? For this?
Go away!
Why?
Why? Why?
Why? It's not fair!
Why? Why? Look at me! Look at me!
Why?
It will do more damage this way.
No, no.
No. We cannot!
You sent me away!
You never asked me to return!
I did. Every single day, I did.
I just never used words.
Please. Please stop. Stop thinking.
Stop listening to yourself and listen to me.
Listen to me.
I have always loved you.
Always so much.
- I always shall, I promise. - Oh, God.
You're lying. You love me.
Nothing about me... is honest.
Nothing about us... is honest.
Don't lie. Don't.
Go.
Oh, God.
I love you!
Porphyria!
Mommy?
No! No!
- No. - Why?
- You must go back to him. - Why?
You must go back to her. You're her mother.
Please... don't.
Don't leave me now. Not now.
Please...
Porphyria!
Oh, my God.
After this last time...
I will never leave you again.
Porphyria!
What's wrong?
Nothing, Ivan.
Nothing.
Everything is finally perfect.
What is it?
There are certain things we shall never know.
I have never allowed myself to be happy, Ivan.
I'm going to try it for a change.
And where is he?
Are you certain he didn't bleed to death?
You want me to go and find him?
No.
This world is not kind to those like him.
Might have been better if he... if he died.
What can he do now? He has no cause to fight.
He has only a dream that will drive him mad.
Ivan, you promised.
Insanity is hereditary, you know.
He has too much of his mother in him.
Thank God.
That's his best part.
But like you, my dear,
he is his father's child, too.
Whoever that truly was.
Between brothers...
especially those brothers...
the bloodline is too much the same.
I know.
I told you it would not end like it began.
Not really.
This is a happy ending, after all.
And the kind of story we've been thinking of
isn't supposed to have a happy ending.
But this is the happiest ending for all of us.
You see, in our own way, she is mine and I am hers.
Perfection and imperfection.
That is why I close my eyes now.
I realize what she has taught me.
An imperfect sleep can be the most perfect one of all.
And now that I have had a perfect sleep,
I will finally have a different kind of sleep,
a sleep from which I will never awaken again.
He's just a ghost
A ghost of the past
He was brought back
For some foolish dream
Bereft and betwixt
A world yet unknown
Out of the past
He walks on
The heat of his love
Has made him cold
The blood will run deep with the gun you can't keep
Before the perfect sleep
The perfect sleep
Won't come too soon
The perfect sleep
Will come to you
The heat of his love
Has made him cold
The blood will run deep from the gun you can't keep
Before the perfect sleep
The perfect sleep
Won't come too soon
The perfect sleep
Will come to you
The perfect sleep
Like I always say,
some things are better left in the dark.