Curse of the Witch's Doll Page #3

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And do you think

she's killed her?

I won't allow myself to.

I'm sorry.

For what?

I promised you I would do

everything I could to help you.

I doubted you.

It's not too late to find her.

I need to know why the

witch has taken my daughter.

Mary's letters, I

need to read them,

all of them.

Help me.

[Arthur] Mary

has never recovered

from her husband and child

being taken from her.

Her grasp of the

real world is fading.

Mary has offered many

identities to us.

The most disturbing

of all is the witch.

She believes the witch took

her family away from her.

(low rumbling)

(eerie atmospheric music)

Mary is the witch.

I'm not going away.

[Witch] Neither am I.

I know why you're doing this.

You believe they

took your child,

your husband.

(witch laughing)

You're wrong.

How little you know.

Spare me your vengeance, Mary.

I'm sorry you lost your family,

but I won't let you take mine.

(door creaking)

Mom!

[Adeline] Chloe.

(witch laughing)

[Witch] Are you ready

to know the truth yet?

Open the door.

(air raid horn sounding)

(intense orchestral music)

[Witch] Aw, you

couldn't save her.

You let her die.

(witch laughing)

Your helpless poor

little child died.

You killed her, Mary, you.

(screaming and laughing)

(eerie atmospheric music)

How are you, Mary?

Do you remember who

I am, my real name?

I'm Doctor Miles Litner

and you've been under

my supervision here

for almost two years now.

Although, you've offered

us many identities,

it's encouraging to be

talking to you at last, Mary.

Where am I?

[Doctor Litner] This is

a psychiatric institution.

A lunatic asylum.

No.

We are here to help people,

not to punish them.

You've done nothing wrong, Mary.

Has it come back to you,

your past, what happened to you?

Some.

Would you tell me

exactly what you remember?

Take your time.

(dramatic orchestral music)

I remember

smoke, screams, the

smell of burning flesh.

My daughter Chloe, lying

beneath the rubble,

(screaming)

life leaving her eyes.

Two years ago,

your home in Kent

was bombed.

You were pulled to

safety by neighbors,

but Chloe wasn't so fortunate.

She died that day.

I couldn't save her.

You ran back into the wreckage

to find her, but

it was too late.

You did all you could.

You did everything that

could have been done.

The war has eroded

so many minds here.

You're not the first to

try to distance yourself

from its casualties,

from the truth.

You couldn't live with yourself.

You created a new world,

a new identity in Adeline,

that allowed you to live

as a strong mother again.

You imagined Chloe by your side.

You imagined protecting her

from the dangers

that killed her.

In your fantasy,

you could save her,

but deep down, you

knew the truth.

And over time it seeped

in through the cracks.

You couldn't stop Chloe

being taken from you.

Your trauma always found a way

to break in in the most

horrific ways imaginable.

We hoped that by aiding

you in search for Chloe

that it would trigger

these discarded memories,

memories that would finally

open your eyes to the truth,

to Mary.

Reality holds nothing

for me, not anymore.

You can't bring

her back, Mary.

When you see her, talk to her,

you're not talking

to your daughter.

You're talking to an imitation,

a pale imitation.

She's not real.

Loss hurts us all.

In time, let me show you that

life still has much to offer.

If we're to make any progress,

you need to accept the truth.

You have to let her go.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Can you let her go?

I need to.

Thank you.

You once asked me what

was behind this door.

This is the east wing,

home to 40 other

members of our family

here at the Brynhill

Institution.

[James] We should

be getting back soon.

It's nearly lunch time.

He's not real.

He's not real.

[James] Are you all right?

He's not real.

[James] I said

are you all right?

He's not real.

(dramatic orchestral music)

I'm fine.

Shall we find Chloe.

She's here?

Of course.

Come on.

(laughing)

Let's play again.

But, Mom.

The delusions have returned.

She can't keep them out.

There was always a chance.

She was of clear mind

no more than an hour ago.

Mary is an extreme case.

It's impossible to watch.

Take it from me, there are

no easy cases here at Brynhill.

We all want the best

for our patients,

but unfortunately,

that's not always enough.

How do we get through to her?

It may be time to accept...

Accept what?

To accept that we can't.

No.

No, there's always a way.

Read through the files.

30 years of identical cases.

When the patient reaches

complete self-awareness,

catharsis, and descends

this far this quickly,

they never come back.

You have a good

heart, Doctor Powell.

Don't let it cloud

your judgment.

What will you do with her?

No.

No, there must be another way.

Name one.

There's little else

we can do for her.

I'm sending her to ward C.

A lobotomy is not the answer.

I have witnessed more

of these procedures

than I care to remember.

I truly thought we had got

through to her this time.

We provided her with the

opportunity to discover the truth

on her own and it only

brought more pain.

But, Mary has

this inner strength.

She has this inner voice

that's fighting to keep her

in the real world.

I'm just asking you to

give her one more chance,

one opportunity, so she

can accept the truth

once and for all.

Delusions of the

witch will return.

It's always the same routine.

It's just a matter of time.

I know you've seen it too.

Why must she

suffer any longer?

She needs us to help her.

'Cause we are almost there.

She will put her visions

and her past behind her.

She has one more night,

one last chance.

(dramatic orchestral music)

That's not enough time.

This ends tomorrow

morning, one way or another.

What's wrong?

Look after her, James.

Be good for your father.

I'll see you soon.

Goodbye, Mary.

[Chloe] Goodnight, Mommy.

Why are the main lights on?

I couldn't leave, not tonight.

How is she?

I followed her every footstep.

I noted her every word.

[Doctor Powell] And?

I see no progress.

[Doctor Powell] Is

she showing signs...

No significant progress.

But Mary's on the road

to recovery, therefore...

It's not enough.

It's over.

Tomorrow morning

she goes to ward C.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Goodnight, Doctor Powell.

You can't hide the

truth, not anymore.

I followed your advice.

I looked through the archives.

Then you saw the theme,

the promise of

progress in a patient

and then disappointment.

I saw reports of progress

in the eyes of other doctors.

All disputed and eventually

overruled by you.

I warned you of the

danger of letting your heart

rule your head.

You resigned

them all to ward C,

to a lobotomy.

We're here to help them,

to make the difficult

decisions, to stop...

To stop them talking.

Tell me about Frank Harris.

Forgive me, my

memory fails me.

How about James Isaac?

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