The Suffering Page #2

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She asked me if

I took head-shots.

She wanted to be an

actress out in Hollywood.

Now, I had never taken

a headshot in my life.

But I lied right to her face and

said with a smile,

of course I do.

Tragically enough,

that young lady

never did make it to Hollywood.

- Oh?

- Because I married

her three months later.

About a year after the marriage,

my business was failing.

The market was diluted.

My father-in-law had

thrown me a line,

he offered me this gig.

Steady pay, good benefits

and we wanted to start a family,

so I couldn't afford to say no.

Closed the studio, sold

all of my equipment

and that's that.

- How easily we betray

the things we love.

- Yeah.

- That's enough

reminiscing for one night.

Now try to get some

rest, Mr. Dawles.

I have something

special to show you

in the morning.

- Looking forward to it.

- Have a good night, Henry.

- You, too.

(phone ringing)

- [Recording] We're

sorry, your call

did not go through.

(phone ringing)

- [Recording] We're

sorry, your call

did not go through.

(phone beeping)

- Ahh, sh*t.

(grunting)

(whimpering)

(kettle whistling)

- Good morning.

- Coffee.

- Thanks.

Big tray for a little cup.

- May I get you anything else?

- No, ma'am.

(faint screeching)

- Something on your mind?

- You got any horses

in that stable?

- Not for many years.

I never took much to them.

And in return,

they never took much to me.

Shall we?

This farm has been in our

family for generations.

Centuries of history

under our very feet.

At one time, the main

house was an inn.

A bed and breakfast of sorts for

travelers heading north

into the mountains.

Many nights, I've

imagined all the souls

that must have

passed through here.

Each with their

own story to tell.

Ah, here we are.

(insects buzzing)

- We've been looking for you.

- Tell me that their beauty

isn't absolutely undeniable.

- These are incredible.

- Each and every piece

machined from scratch.

10,000 hours to create.

- Did you build these?

(chucking)

- Oh, no.

I'm not nearly patient enough.

'Twas my father who made them.

- Amazing.

Do they still run?

- Of course.

Though I wouldn't dare venture

them out on that

old track out there.

I can't help but feel

that the majority of people take

the world's beauty for granted.

It's time spent incepting,

designing, creating

all that is.

These objects in space.

Needless to say, I feel it is my

God-fearing responsibility

to preserve that beauty

and, when need be,

give it a little polish

from time to time.

- These are works

of art, Mr. Remiel,

there's no question about it.

But I'll be honest,

when it comes

to their worth,

I don't even know

where I'd start.

- That's easy, Henry.

They're priceless.

- Yeah.

- Through there,

you'll find a staircase

on your left leading

to the storage garage.

Between that and

the machine shop,

you should find plenty

of work to fill your day.

(thump)

- [Whispering] Henry.

(gasping)

(banging and chains rattling)

(grunting)

(loud growling noise)

(glass breaking)

(squealing noise)

- Hello?

(thunder booming)

- Oh, sh*t!

(grunting)

(door creaking)

(thud)

(melancholy orchestral music)

- What's wrong?

(thunder booming)

(groaning noises)

(crunching and crackling)

(growling)

(whining)

- Run.

(sighs)

Ugh.

- Mr. Dawles.

A word.

- Who the hell was that?

- You need to calm down, Mr.

- Don't you tell

me to calm down!

Do you see that?

I was attacked on your

property, understand?

- Are you threatening me?

- I need to know what's

going on right now.

- You're in shock, Henry.

You have suffered a

sharp blow to your head

and I suspect are

victim to a concussion.

- You didn't answer me.

- Take a moment, Mr. Dawles.

Calm your nerves.

And when you have done so,

meet me in the kitchen

for a civilized conversation.

In the meantime, I

shall fetch Mrs. Gates

to tend to your wound.

(thunder rolling)

You have taken liberties with my

hospitality, Mr. Dawles.

- There is something

in that barn.

- A rail thin creature

ravaging an unlucky hen.

Is that correct?

- You saw what was

left of that bird.

- What I saw was

the rotten remains

of an escaped farm animal.

Nothing more.

- I'm telling you the truth.

- See it through my eyes.

I find you in the stable, alone,

your head bleeding and

your camera smashed,

an empty glass of

bourbon on the porch.

Can you at least

appreciate my perspective?

- I understand how it must look.

- What's really troubling

you, Mr. Dawles?

It's in your eyes.

Something deeper.

Something personal.

- I'm just trying to do

my job and that's it.

- You are here to

perform a service, Henry.

One that means a

great deal to me.

Can I count on you?

- Yeah.

- Good.

I had faith you'd

muster the will.

Besides,

I am growing quite

fond of your company.

Get a good night's rest.

I'll see you in the morning.

(eerie music)

(door rattling and squeaking)

(heavy breathing)

(girl humming hymnal music)

Will the circle

Be unbroken

By and by

Lord, by and by

There's a better

Home a'waitin'

In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Will the circle

Be unbroken

By and by, Lord

By and by

There's a better

Home a'waiting

In the sky, Lord, in the sky

- Salena?

You can't be here.

My wife.

Please.

(squishy noises)

No, I am not doing this.

(giggling)

(grunting)

(groaning in pain)

(footsteps)

- May I?

- I don't know what's

happening here.

- I'm not sure I

know what you mean.

- You're telling me you

don't feel something

evil?

Nothing?

- I was raised in a house

of refuge, Mr. Dawles.

A reform school

for teenage girls.

By societal standards,

we were classified as

undesirable.

But to the sexual

appetites of deep-pocketed

men, we were quite the opposite.

And when we matured and lost our

childlike appeal, we

became something else.

Disposable.

To answer your

question, Mr. Dawles,

I have felt evil many times.

But never in this place.

(lighter flicking)

(rattling, scraping)

- Hello?

(lighter flicking)

Mr. Remiel?

Who are you?

- I'm you.

(gasping)

Oh, sh*t.

(phone ringing, buzzing)

- Henry?

Henry, is that you?

- Hi, Rebecca.

- Where have you been?

I was so worried.

- I'm working.

- I've been calling you.

- There's no service here.

- You sound tired.

- I am.

- Are you with her?

- I have to go.

- I love you, Henry.

(dial tone)

(sobbing)

(lively organ music)

- You overslept, Mr. Dawles.

- I wasn't feeling

well, I'm sorry.

- Are you leaving us?

- My wife needs me home.

- Is that all?

- I need to be home.

- I thought we had

a deal, Mr. Dawles.

- Well, you can keep the money.

- Let us amend our agreement.

I detest ending on poor terms.

It is clear that

you are headstrong

in your decision, but my driver

will not be available

until morning.

So here is my compromise.

If you will work

through the night

to make up for your

daytime repose,

I will see that you

are fully compensated.

- I appreciate the

offer, Mr. Remiel,

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