Nine Dead

Synopsis: Communication is the key for the survival of nine strangers who have been kidnapped by a masked gunman and told that one of them will die every ten minutes until they discover why they are there. Can they figure it out before they all die?
Genre: Crime, Drama, Horror
Director(s): Chris Shadley
Production: Image Entertainment
 
IMDB:
5.5
R
Year:
2010
98 min
Website
300 Views


Sh*t.

Hey, Sully.

Baby, I just needed to rest

my feet for,

like, one second.

So that's why you can't

work right now?

You get paid to dance,

not to sit on your ass drinking.

Now get to work!

You can be a real a**hole

when you want to be.

Stupid b*tch.

Lock up the joint

when you're done.

I'm going out.

Hey, dude!

Get the f*** off of me!

Get your hands off!

And then they beat them by,

like, 65 points last year.

That wasn't even football game.

That was a basketball score.

You know,

he could have said USC.

He could have said

a lot of other things.

Now he's going to the Aztecs.

My friend.

If I'd only gotten sober

Our attention turns back

to a story

that we have been following

for the past several days.

The greater Los Angeles area

has been plagued with a rash

of kidnappings

with as many as 4 victims

disappearing in separate attacks

and all possibly by the same

masked individual.

Now, a source inside the LAPD

refuses to say

whether or not there is

a connection

between the kidnapped victims.

I'll take the check.

A detective with

the West Los Angeles division

has also fallen prey

to this masked criminal.

You want to get out

of the car?

Well, isn't that cute?

Sorry, guys.

Gotta go. Gotta go.

Got an audition in the morning.

Hey, I saw your commercial

the other day,

and you sucked, a**hole.

Hey, it's Kelley.

No, I don't know any more

than the cops do.

Jackson got nabbed,

and they think it might

be linked to a priest

who got nabbed in the valley

on Thursday.

And then I got a report across

my desk this morning

about a kidnapping in Barstow,

and they like Jackson's guy

for that too.

I don't know.

I guess we got to pull over every

green Chevy Malibu in the state

and see if Jackson's locked

in the trunk.

Yeah, I know that's

not practical,

but we got to do something.

I mean, who knows who's next

on this guy's sh*t list?

No.

No, no.

You're dead.

Do you have any idea who I am,

you son of a b*tch?

You're messing

with the wrong woman.

Do you hear me?

Much thanks.

Dear Lord.

You're never gonna

get away with this.

Let me out of here,

or you're dead.

I'm gonna bust out of here.

I'm gonna bust your head.

And I'll take that gun

and stick it up your ass.

I brought the 9 of you here

today for a reason.

And your survival depends on you

discovering what that reason is.

I'm gonna leave you alone

for your discussions,

but I'll return every

until you either figure it out

or until you're all dead.

If you do manage

to figure it out,

I'll free the survivors,

notify the police

of our location,

and make a full confession

to all the crimes

I will commit here today.

Wait; I don't get it.

I mean, I didn't do anything.

You have 10 minutes.

I don't know

who all of you are,

but somebody better

start talking,

'cause I am not

dying here today.

Dude out there's full of sh*t.

What makes you say that?

I just know.

No one does this deal for real.

Hail Mary, full of grace.

The Lord is--

the Lord is--

sh*t!

Dude, how does

the rest of it go?

One of you has to know

something.

What did you do?

Don't look at me, b*tch.

There's 8 other guys

in this room.

Can anyone think of a reason

why they're here?

He's gonna kill us,

so there has to be something.

Well, I'll be the first

to admit

that I have

a pretty messed-up history,

but I don't know

who that guy is

or why I'm here.

And I'll be the last to admit sh*t.

To hell with that guy.

He's a punk,

and my money says

that he's a cop.

What?

You're insane.

The punk-ass pig

puts a bunch of criminals

in one room.

All right?

Gets them all scared and crowing

about the sh*t that they did.

The cops write up a list

and bust us all.

I'm not saying sh*t.

This is not a setup

by the cops.

I had a friend

a couple years ago,

got in a barroom fight

with a guy.

Guy turns out to be a cop.

A couple hours later,

he's in room like this.

They threw him a hell

of a blanket party.

The guy never did

walk the same since.

It's not the cops.

How can you be so sure?

Because I'm

a f***ing genius, okay?

Yeah, well,

anything is possible.

I had a customer

a couple of weeks ago

threaten to kill me

when I cut him off at the bar.

But then he drove his car

into a building.

Maybe this is all just

a mistake.

What, do you think he

kidnapped all of us by mistake?

Look, he's obviously crazy,

so that's something we can

use to our advantage.

Are we supposed to think

of a crime that's so horrible

that he would kill 9 people

as a result,

some horrible crime that we did?

I'm sorry, Father,

but the worst

thing one person

can do to another

is child molestation.

Never.

I never would do such a thing.

I have.

Was it, like, boys or girls?

Does it matter to you?

No, no.

Me neither.

You sick son of a b*tch.

You put me in a room with you

and no windows and no doors,

and you're gonna wish

that you were never born.

Sweetie, we are in a room

with no windows or doors,

and the only thing you're gonna

do is try to survive,

just like me.

Maybe you deserve to die.

What I've done might have

gotten me here,

but you two

and all of you...

What have all of you done

to deserve

the death penalty?

My name is Eddie Vigoda.

Hi, Eddie.

Maybe that helps somebody.

No, Eddie.

No, it doesn't.

I'm Dean Jackson.

I'm Kelley Murphy.

I'm an assistant

district attorney

for Los Angeles County.

Can you think of anyone

you've put away

that would want revenge,

like a crazed killer,

you know, some escaped psycho?

Take your pick.

I mean, I've made more

than a few enemies,

but there are people that keep

tabs on parolees

that might come after me.

And no one saw this guy coming.

Jackson, anything you'd

like to add?

I know you.

Says you.

We did some business together

years ago.

I'm sure it was small-time stuff

for you,

but it was pretty big for me.

My name

is Christian Collins worth.

What kind of business

are you in?

Sully's with the mob.

You know, it doesn't surprise me

that you don't remember me.

It's been a long time.

What's your name, anyway, man?

Sully Fenton from Vegas.

What kind of business

did you two do together?

Ask the kid.

Hell if I know.

A deal came my way,

some pharmaceutical-grade speed.

I was about 5 grand short,

so I went to Sully.

I heard he was in the business

of loaning money for drugs

for part of the product

and profits.

I'm sure 5 grand sounded

pretty sweet to me at the time,

especially selling meth.

So what happened?

I sold the stuff

to these 2 cool guys

who turned out to be

undercover cops.

And I went in for 3 years.

But you still paid me, right?

Yeah, yeah.

Everybody knows what happens

when you don't pay Sully Fenton.

I'm not stupid.

Are you sure about that?

I had nothing going

into prison.

I had even less getting out.

But I got what I needed

as soon as I hit the streets

in May.

You were paid

by the end of the month.

Now I'm an actor and bartender

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