Hatchet II Page #2

But the moment was not

so much a release

as it was a nightmare.

No!

She put a curse on Thomas Crowley

and his mistress, Lena,

a curse that would not only damn them

but the bastard child that was

already growing in Lena's belly.

No.

They say that on the day

Victor Crowley was born,

the swamp mourned.

The trees wept.

The wildlife became sickly and died.

His presence was like a pestilence

that turned the area into death.

Come on.

There it is.

Push, push.

Push. There it is.

Come on.

Come on. One more.

Here it comes.

One more, one more.

Victor Crowley was born ridden with

grotesque tumors, disease

and pain.

Let me see.

Let me see it!

A living monster.

And Lena...

Some say she died the moment

she laid eyes on her child.

Now the legend would

have you believe that Mr. Crowley

kept his son hidden away

to protect him,

but what he was really hiding

was his mistake, his infidelity

and his curse.

Over the years, Thomas Crowley

learned to love his monster of a son.

With just the two of them

being hidden away,

he made his peace with God.

And on that fateful

Halloween night...

Thomas tried to save his son

by chopping through the door

with a hatchet

and by accident,

killed his only son.

Get out here!

Get out here and

get what's coming to you!

You can't hide forever!

You killed my son.

You killed my son.

You killed my son.

The children responsible

hid behind their parents,

denied everything

and left Thomas Crowley to live out

the rest of his days in anguish.

You killed my son.

Years later, he finally passed

and the torture of this life was over.

But Victor Crowley would become

one of the most tragic

and heartbreaking tales of Louisiana.

A man trapped in the night

he was killed,

still out there,

wandering the swamp

each night trying to find his daddy.

No one knows the body count,

but for years after he died,

fishermen,

gator hunters,

and those who were just too

foolish to heed the tales,

all disappeared in that swamp

mutilated, murdered, massacred

and torn to pieces by the ghost

of Victor Crowley.

What does that have to do with me?

Your father, Samson,

was one of the three kids

who murdered Victor Crowley.

An accident, yes,

but a tragedy that has left

Honey lsland Swamp

cursed with the ghost of

Victor Crowley forever.

Uh.

I... I never--

Of course.

How could you know?

How do you know

that my dad was involved?

Because if I had been brave enough,

I would have been out there too.

I'm an old acquaintance of Samson.

- When Crowley came after us last night--

- You saw him?

Yes.

He looked at me

like he knew me.

Perhaps he could sense

who you really were.

Perhaps it was all on your mind.

Victor Crowley is what's known in

the paranormal world as a repeater.

His tragic and untimely death

has left him forced to relive

that moment night after night,

over and over.

All he knows is the fear and

revenge towards anybody who

steps foot in that swamp.

You knew all this was real

yet you still sent a tour boat

full of innocent people in there?

For what?

For what?

For money?

Shaun.

He wasn't supposed

to get that close.

He wasn't supposed

to stop for nothing.

Now I've had boats go into

that swamp for months now,

two months now,

with no worries.

Besides you knew the legend.

You went in there knowing

the story as did your father,

I went in--

who more than anybody

should have known better.

I went in there to find them

and I did!

Not many people have seen

the face of Victor Crowley

and lived to tell about it.

Consider yourself lucky.

Lucky?

My family is gone!

I'm sorry for your loss.

- Take me back there.

- What?

I can't leave them there.

Please.

Please.

I just wanna take them home.

What you want is revenge.

It's a bad idea, Marybeth Dunston.

Bad idea.

Please.

Please.

I just wanna bury my family.

And if I can take that

monster out with me,

then all the better.

You can't kill him.

He'll just be reborn.

He's supposed to return to the

state he was when he was killed.

You can't kill a ghost.

Or maybe I can't.

Or maybe I can.

But I am gonna bury that hatchet

deep into his f***ing face!

Or would you rather I go to the police and

tell them about your swamp tour business?

Maybe tell them where to find

the bodies of a boat full of tourists

that you sent in there illegally, huh?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

All right.

Yes?

You want revenge on Victor Crowley?

I want you to find it.

So you'll take me back in there?

But I have some conditions.

We're not going in there alone.

We need help.

We need guns.

And there's a few specific people

that I feel safer having along.

Fine, if you take me

back in there tonight.

Now, you meet me here at 2 o'clock.

I have some phone calls to make.

I'm gonna gathertogether a little

hunting expedition of sorts.

With that ghost gone,

I can clear that swamp.

You know, I don't care about

your swamp tour business.

I don't care about your money.

I just want to bring my family home.

- If you think that bring--

- I said... yes.

But you know, I think it would be better

if you didn't go in there alone.

Do you have somebody you can bring,

boyfriend or an uncle perhaps?

I'm not bringing anybody else

I know into this.

Uh-uh.

I'd feel better if you brought somebody,

if you brought another

family member with you.

No.

Then no deal.

So if I bring my uncle back,

then you will take us?

That's what I said.

I'll be back at 2:00.

I'll be here.

Justin!

Justin!

Get your butt down here!

Yeah, boss?

When were you gonna tell me

that your brother didn't

bring the boat back?

Oh, he didn't?

So Shaun didn't bring the boat back

last night?

Uh-uh.

Look, he'sjust new at this.

I'm sure things are fine... he's

probably got the boat back by now.

That was your shift.

He was covering for you, okay?

He didn't bring the boat back

and everything's not all right.

Why?

What... what's wrong?

We gotta go out there

and recover my boat.

Shaun's still in the swamp?

Apparently.

Is he all right?

I'm sure he will be all right.

I need you to go out and organize a group

of hunters and fishermen,

people that know

the way around the swamp.

I got a proposition to make them

and you make sure that

this name is on the list.

We're going on a little expedition.

Is this like a

publicitything forthe shop?

Something like that.

Hello?

Who's there?

Hello?

Marybeth? Samson?

Uncle Bob?

I'll be right down.

Your father was a good man,

you know that.

He's always been my best friend.

Even all those years I lived up north,

we'd talk all the time.

Reverend Zombie said dad was

one of the people responsible

for Victor Crowley's death.

Is that true?

Reverend Zombie?

Why are you talking to that low-life?

He's a thief and crook

with his bogus voodoo shops

and his fake souvenirs.

Well, he said that he knew

the people that were involved.

He's full of horse-sh*t.

- Reverend Zombie said--

- Reverend Zombie said!

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