Killing Season Page #4

Almost done.

Damn.

No sugar.

I'm just going to

have to substitute.

This ought to do.

Well, now.

You think a little bit of pain

is going to make me break?

I sure don't know.

What if I like pain?

This might be your lucky day.

Here we go.

[Screaming]

Want another?

Yes, please.

[Gargling]

You like that, huh?

How's it feel to be the one getting tortured?

Is that what you did during the war?

Torture people?

Huh? Tell me.

What?

[Screams]

What'd you do?

Who'd you kill?

Bosnians?

Croatians?

Women? Children?

Who'd you kill?

No children. No women.

What, then? What did you do?

What'd you do?

I made tools.

What for? What were they used for?

Many things.

For sleeping tent

and shredding muscles.

The goal was to make people talk

and at the end, everyone talks.

You like tools, huh?

I got tools, too.

Don't go anywhere.

[Sighs]

See?

That's that thing

we were talking about.

That word.

Karma.

You torture me and I'll torture you.

Sound familiar?

The Serbs attacked the Bosnians because

the Bosnians attacked the Serbs.

Same goes for the Croatians and

the Nazis back in World War II.

Truth is,

you can go back 1,000 years and still not know

how a conflict

really started.

But we all know how it ends.

You think you're the only one that

lost something in that war? Huh?

It destroyed me.

You hear?

You hear?

[Groaning]

The war is almost over,

Colonel Ford.

For gallantry in action.

[Groaning]

(Emil)

Move!

[Mumbling]

Can't move, eh?

I know this feeling.

For three years...

I had very much

the same feeling.

I was shot in the back and I was

paralyzed from the neck down.

And I could barely talk.

And you know

how much I like to talk.

And there was beautiful nurse.

Her name was Sophia.

She was always

dressed in white.

She always had beautiful smile on her face.

I dreamed

making love to her,

f***ing her.

You know

what her job was?

To collect

the piss and the sh*t

from the pan

from beneath my bed.

But slowly

the feeling came back.

You know,

I taught myself how to write.

I taught myself

how to eat.

I taught myself

to speak again

and to walk like a man,

not like cripple.

I had no help. I had no mother.

I had no father.

I had no wife or child.

And you know

what kept me going?

Not knowing

if you would fight,

and if you did,

who would win.

Because you have been like

such a worthy adversary.

[Groans]

You win.

I know.

Just get it over with.

Yeah, I promise.

But not yet.

Well, what are you

waiting for?

I'm waiting for your confession,

Colonel Ford.

[Grunting]

(Ben)

Please, please stop.

(Emil)

Sit there. Sit there.

[Groans]

You have no idea

how lucky you are.

My country has beauty,

but there is an invisible layer

of blood caked over everything.

Most people cannot see it,

but I have special eyes.

Everywhere I look,

I see red.

Move!

A young cowboy, Billy Joe,

grew restless on the farm.

The boy filled with wanderlust,

he really meant no harm.

Billy Joe fell to the floor,

the crowd all gathered round

and wondered

at his final words,

"Don't take

your guns to town, son.

"Don't leave

your guns at home.

"We'll take your gun to town."

Ah.

Is little Benny tired?

Benjamin?

[Laughs]

Benjamin.

[Grunting]

[creaking]

[creaking]

[creaking]

[creaking]

[creaking]

[screams]

[screams]

The shooting pain again, eh?

Is it the shrapnel

trying to move its way out?

There it is.

What if I try to help it along?

[Screams]

Bless me, father,

for I have sinned.

Bless me,

but do not forgive me.

It has been one week

since my last confession.

It has been a big week and I could go down the list,

but there's short of time.

And of course

you have better things to do.

So, don't forgive us.

Okay.

I confess my sins onto you,

but do not dare absolve them.

I want to be part of them

for me to never forget them.

Okay, you. Your turn.

You, you confess.

Now!

It is only

the three of us here.

You and me and him.

I will keep your secret,

Colonel Ford.

In the end

he's not even listening.

You are the only one

getting in the way of the truth.

I give up.

You win.

You win.

But you lose.

Maybe you'll finally tell him the truth

when you see him face to face.

You want to kill me?

Look me in the eye.

[Screams]

(Ben)

October.

Like this, right?

'95.

My unit was first on the ground outside--

We were tasked with liberating the Bosnian

Muslims from the internment camp there.

The first thing

we noticed was the smell.

Got our attention

right away.

Like my father's

taxidermy shed.

And when we got to the camp,

we saw boxcars sitting out on the tracks.

Looked like they were

full of old clothes.

We got closer,

we began to make out hands and legs.

It was the faces.

Faces just skin

stretched over skulls.

Bodies stuck together.

Stuck to the ground

from the frost,

eyelids frozen open

staring right at you.

Camp was run

by Serbians,

called themselves

the Scorpions.

Dozens of these Scorpions,

they surrendered.

They were all going to go back

to a POW camp for a few weeks

and then after the war,

they'd all just go home.

I'd seen-- we'd all seen

firsthand what they'd done,

the children

they butchered,

women they raped,

tortured.

So we stripped them down,

burned their uniforms, marched them up a hill

in the middle of nowhere. And we got to the top,

my men lined the prisoners up

on their knees facing away.

I joined up

to make my father proud,

but when I told him,

he tried to talk me out of it.

"Remember the elk,"

he said.

"Remember the look in their eyes at the end.

"You see that happen to another man,

doesn't matter if he's a friend

"or an enemy. You see that happen,

it changes you forever."

Of course

I didn't believe him.

Had to find out

for myself.

Should have listened.

I been...

I been in a lot of wars,

but never one like Bosnia.

That war got into my head.

I saw it like a poison.

[Gunshots]

I just wanted it to stop.

I thought maybe killing a few of the

worst ones would make it go away.

So I pulled the trigger.

Just like that I became everything

I hated about that damn war.

Everything.

Then when I got home I couldn't

even look myself in the mirror

or my son in the eye.

Yeah, I figured he was

just better off without me.

Then I was not prepared

to die, but now...

you should

pull the trigger.

Put an end to this for us.

You can finish it.

Don't you know

the things I have done?

Don't I deserve to die?

We are both killers.

Are we not?

We're the same,

you and I.

He is nothing

but meat and flesh

and tendon, put him

out of his misery.

Please, God,

pull the trigger.

Pull the trigger!

So, this old Italian guy,

he wants to confess to the local priest.

He's getting on in age and

wants to make it right with God.

So, he tells the priest,

"Father, back in the war

"there was this beautiful woman that came to my house

"and asked me to protect her from the Nazis,

"so I hid her up

in my attic."

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