Abattoir Page #2

Found this in the closing papers.

That's all I got.

Now wherever this leads,

make sure it's away from my office.

Alright, you got the city records.

I did you a title search.

12 hits on revelation holdings

over seven states.

Your bus-bench huckster was right.

Half a dozen properties bought and sold

by revelation over a 50-year span.

And each one purchased...

After a tragic event

occurred in the house.

All of the homes did some sort of

remodeling after the crime took place.

- And the rooms?

- Taken.

So what's the explanation?

When I moved in,

i didn't even have a roof over my head.

- Why? What used to be up there?

- Vaulted ceiling being reinforced.

Antique chandelier.

- I started hearing noises.

- What kind of noises?

It was in the hallway

across from the master bedroom.

There was an energy.

Family moved in late-'87, early-'88.

Wasn't till three years later

that the tenants did the math.

Points out the obvious.

To hear the neighbors tell it, it was

a speakeasy, a brothel, a drug house,

and who knows what else.

If something could be done

to offend heaven, it was done here.

- What's on the other side of this wall?

- Repairman was working late.

Forgot to cut the power on

the elevator. Crushed the poor bastard.

Damn near broke every bone in his body.

I guess she reckoned she'd rather

go out above the ground than below it.

But I did some research that ten years

before I took over the ownership,

there was a nasty home invasion.

Let us go! Please! Let us go!

Please? Let us go...

Shhh...

Church bought the place back in '82

for a penny and a half.

Poisoned by a competing tycoon.

Someone came in and removed

the whole room, floor to ceiling.

To understand the story,

two days after it happened,

someone offered to buy the building.

Owners wanted out,

didn't want the press, so they sold.

And then someone just scampered off

with the entire ceiling?

Two weeks later, elevator's gone,

and the building is back on the market.

In your email you mentioned

something about revelation holdings.

The newspaper did take up the story.

And the day it went into print,

i get a knock at the door.

A man starts asking me questions.

He's more interested in the murders

than the real estate.

Two hours later, gives me a check

for 20 percent more than the value.

And then the next week, I remembered

that I left a box over there.

And the hallway was gone.

So let me get this straight.

- The story bends.

- What do you mean it bends?

Husband slits his wrists

after finding his wife dead in bed.

Along comes an old man, buys the house,

rips out the murder room.

Contractor shoots the carpenter

eight times in the head with a nail gun

before putting a nail into his own eyes.

- Nice touch, tools of the trade.

- Christmas morning, 2004.

A husband and wife are opening presents

when their landlord axes them both.

- And get this...

- Takes off with the murder room?

Yes.

Color me intrigued,

but that's about all.

F***ed-up people

collect f***ed-up sh*t, right?

Part of his collection

happens to be my family.

Which is horrible, but it's faded news.

You can't rewrite that story.

It's already gone to press.

Rewrite it?

I haven't even finished a rough draft.

I get it. It's stranger than strange.

It's f***ing nuts.

But these are all solved murders.

Cases of people taking out

their loved ones, and then themselves.

We had your guy in a padded cell.

He's facing triple murder. That's it.

Case open, case closed.

There's no mystery.

You don't have to protect me, Grady.

I won't break.

- I want to see him.

- No.

- Yes.

- No.

You don't get to make that decision.

I want to see him.

Look...

I know you're trying to make this right.

But whatever it is you're doing,

it's not gonna bring them back.

L just need to see him.

If I don't see him

I'm gonna be asking these questions

that I'm never gonna

have the answers to.

So, please, help me. Please?

Alright.

I'll... I'll make some calls, ok?

You'll make some calls?

You're a cop.

You're my cop.

And that was my sister.

Get me in front of him.

Sh*t. F***.

The adoption agency.

Mother:
Eulalia Howard.

New English.

Some people can't do what you're doing.

Believe me, I know what you're doing.

43 stories I can confirm.

The earliest one going back to 1953.

My family's death was not random.

It's connected.

Each time a shell company.

No picture, no face.

The guy's a ghost collecting ghosts,

and one of them is my sister.

And this is where I warn you.

You're getting too close

to this one, kiddo.

And this is where I ignore you,

and chase it anyway.

This came for you in today's mail.

New English?

"Always forward never reverse."

I don't need to see anymore of this,

and nor do you. Who sent this?

New English?

Renshaw's last address was new English.

There's no such thing as a coincidence.

The world broke, and you broke with it.

This is your head cobbling the pieces.

That repairman Brent Johnson,

who was crushed.

Guess where he was from? New English.

The bathtub murders? New English.

Guess where I was born?

There's a connection.

Look at the evidence and do the math.

That's my sister and her family

on that tape.

You have the monster behind bars

who did this. I am owed this, Grady.

- What?

- The walls.

What?

Give me this.

Look. Look at the walls.

They're not connected.

The walls are not connected.

Wing's under construction.

I had him moved here for you.

A little more private, a lot more safe.

Listen, he gets weird, you get scared,

I'll be right...

- I'm fine.

- Don't get too close.

Could I talk to him alone?

- That ain't happening.

- Please? Just for a few minutes.

I'm fine.

Best I can do is down the hall.

I don't remember the last time

i slept so well.

You f***ing monster.

I am. And I feel terrible

about what befell your kin.

I feel worse knowing

what will soon befall you.

I'll watch you burn in hell

for what you did to them.

I deserved that, and much worse.

- That tape you sent me...

- I didn't send you any tape.

Liar! Do not lie to me!

I might have caused its creation,

but I had no part in making it,

or sending it to you.

I'm under lock and key here.

- Her room was...

- Was taken.

Like so many before it.

I have made a barter with him.

And now I have a room he cannot take.

He who? Crone?

Why did he take her room?

Amanda's room fits into his puzzle.

One more tragedy

to add to his collection.

And some souls don't go above a level.

They're stuck.

When a person dies unexpectedly,

they leave behind a tear in the fabric

of our world like a fracture.

You put enough cracks together,

like rooms in a house,

all the pain, all the fear,

all the emotions

left behind after death...

...they start to turn acidic.

And they echo on themselves

until finally it all collapses.

Knock a hole in a prison wall,

and walk out with all the prisoners.

I'm sorry for what's coming.

God, make it stop!

I have done a horrible thing.

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