Killing Season Page #3

What the hell was that?

You just spooked him.

(Emil) Colonel Ford,

you've changed.

Kovac?

(Emil) You pulled the trigger back in Menacha.

How'd you know

I was in Menacha?

(Emil)

Because I was there, too.

[Screams]

F***.

(Emil) It's the hunter's honor that he protects

and preserves his game,

hunts sportsmanlike,

and honors

the creator's creatures.

You're not Bosnian.

What the f*** do you want from me?

(Emil) I always wonder who would win in a fair fight,

both of us properly armed.

F***!

(Emil) Two men alone in the wilderness.

War.

Distilled.

My bow is broken.

This ain't a fair fight.

(Emil) You of all people should know,

war is not fair.

F***!

[Grunts]

[screams]

F***.

[Birds chirping]

[screams]

I told you,

I wanted a trophy.

F*** you!

Ah.

I warned you

about the air bubbles

in the fiberglass,

first sign of trouble, and snap!

What, you pissed off about the war or something?

Did something happen to you?

You killed my friend, I killed your friend,

that's what it's about.

I made peace with my sins.

It's over. No.

The war will never be over.

Why don't you just shoot me, then?

Instead of this running around hiding bullshit.

Just shoot me!

Oh, come on, Benjamin.

I just want

to shoot the sh*t.

Shoot the sh*t?

Yeah, it's how you say this, right?

Shoot the sh*t. Shoot the sh*t?

You just shot me.

What the f*** are you-- I know,

but I had to. I had no choice.

I could've shot you in the heart or the head,

but I didn't.

I could've killed you.

So, come out to sit.

We'll talk like gentlemen.

[Grunting]

Come on, sit over here.

Sit down.

[Grunting]

Benjamin.

What are you,

you going to hang me now?

Pull up your pants leg.

There's a stake

on the end of that rope.

I want you to put it through the

hole in your leg and tie it. What?

Put the stake through the hole in the calf.

(Emil)

Okay.

Let me see!

[Groaning]

Tie it, please.

[Groans]

Tight.

[Screams]

Don't worry.

The calf muscle is very strong.

You can hang like this for days without tearing muscle.

[Screaming]

Okay, you are the old Italian man.

I am the priest.

And this is our confession.

So, what are your sins, my son?

And you say something like, "Oh,

bless me, father, for I have sinned.

"It's been so and so many days since my

last confession, and these are my sins."

Now, you know what that means to confess, no?

Of course you do.

But, you, you say things like,

"Oh, my wife left me.

"Oh, my son calls

different man 'father.'

"Oh, I miss my dear old daddy."

But I go to confession every week,

even more if I find the time.

But you go to retreat

in the mountain,

did you think you could forget the past?

What do you want from me?

I want real confession!

You put bullet in my back

and you left me for dead.

And now for years

you run from the truth.

And I carried the pain alone.

But no more!

So, now it is time

to spill your guts.

Now, you know American Indians

spilled one's guts to reveal

one's most intimate secrets.

I want you

to spill your guts to me.

Or I will spill them for you.

[Screams]

Want good cut?

Like this, and everything spills out on the ground.

Please, stop.

You live alone. This is good,

because I want you to see

all the little creatures will come

down and nibble on your insides.

[Smashing]

[screaming]

(Emil)

You'll be late.

Looks like you missed

your little nephew's baptism.

But you would rather be up here with me,

wouldn't you?

Do you believe

in God, Benjamin?

Who gives a sh*t?

Did you hear what I said?

F*** you.

F*** you!

(Emil)

I believe in him.

I know he exists.

And I'll tell you why.

It was walking home

from the factory in Lukomir.

And I see a crowd of people

in town square.

The soldiers were dragging

Serbs from their houses.

They raped

my mother, my sister,

and they poured petrol

all over the wounded bodies.

The men,

they were not so lucky.

They used the axes to split their heads

open and let them die in square.

And I asked myself,

if God truly exists,

how could he allow

such terrible things?

Then I think all the things

that happened in my life

and I realized that is not

the proof of the absence of God,

this is the proof

of his existence.

Because men alone could not be

capable of such magnificent evil.

Now, I spilled my guts.

Your turn.

Your turn!

Your turn!

Maybe I'm coming in

more clear now, eh?

Dad?

Dad, you around?

Come on, Dad.

Is he here?

There's his car.

He might be asleep.

[Knocking]

[baby cooing]

It's okay.

(Chris) Dad?

[Knocking]

Maybe he doesn't

want to see us.

[Laughs] Which is exactly why we should have called.

Leave it up to my dad

not to be around.

(Emil)

Benjamin.

Be quiet, don't move.

Hey, at least we have a three hour

car ride home to look forward to.

At least he's asleep.

Oh. Hi, but he's awake.

You want this baby

to have a father or no?

Let's play.

Put that f***ing bow down.

Otherwise, I have to put

one more head on your wall.

(Ben) That's my family, goddammit.

You threaten my family,

I will end you,

mother f***er, you hear me?

Put that f***ing bow down.

I can't hold it much longer.

You wanna play?

You want your war, goddammit?

Yeah. Yeah.

We can play.

You want your war?

Come and get it.

I'll give you a head start.

It is Murphy's Law, no?

Whatever can go wrong

will go wrong.

Bullshit cabin.

Bullshit wine.

(Ben)

Hey.

It's okay.

It's okay.

Hold still. Hold still.

Let me see.

Let me see your tongue.

Oh, there it is.

Yeah, you'll still

be able to talk.

That's good,

'cause I know how much you like to talk.

Yeah. I know it hurts,

but it's okay. Very superficial.

Yeah, let me help you.

[Moaning]

Getting that removed.

Risky.

You proud of what you did?

Or maybe

you don't want to forget.

It's like

with your shot.

Sometimes things

become part of you,

whether you want it to

or not.

Scorpions, Serbian death squad,

tried for war crimes against Bosnian Muslims.

Some did terrible things.

Some were simply caught up in

circumstances beyond their control.

Yeah, which one were you?

You know, I got an idea.

I think this time you should be the old Italian guy,

I should be the priest.

Not talking anymore?

Not giving me any

long dissertations

on the meaning

of war and life?

I'll give you

a very simple one.

When life gives you lemons...

that's right.

Nice and simple.

And my mother,

she used to always have a fresh pitcher

waiting for us when Dad and

me came out of the woods.

One morning we went hunting

and I got one in the chest.

But I missed the heart.

Probably punctured his lungs,

so we had to chase him down.

Like the bowl?

Yeah, me too.

More natural this way.

So, anyway...

we finally caught up.

He made me put that

knife in his throat.

Made me watch

while it bled out.

Got to do it quick, he said,

otherwise the meat will spoil.

You know, you wouldn't think it,

but even in an animal

you can see that exact moment

when the light leaves its eyes.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes