The Thompsons Page #2

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Hello?

Francis! Pay the guy, will you?

David is my oldest brother.

He used to be a lot more uptight

before the Hawaiian shirts.

He's always felt responsible

to plan our lives out.

To make sure we keep it together.

- How's it going, man?

- Alright.

I'm gonna do a pack of lights.

- And the rest on... pump two.

- You got it.

You ready?

Yo, this place is great, man.

Black Life Magazine?

I haven't seen this

since the nineties, man.

This is my other older brother.

Wendell.

He's one of the twins and not what you call

"completely there."

A bit of a loose cannon.

Best to stay out of his way.

Yeah, well, you got the good one.

I have to get closer in,

'cause you're shooting further.

Bang! Bang!

Bang! Oh!

Whew!

You know, you might be

the prettiest thing I've seen

in a long while.

I'll rip your heart out

and swallow it whole

before you wipe that smile from your face.

Ho!

My sister Darlene.

Be warned. She usually means

exactly what she says.

She's the other twin.

As you already saw.

Darlene and my brother Wendell

do practically everything together.

Alright, Little Man Lenny,

you're going down.

Before they died.

Our parents raised us out on a farm...

...secluded from everything.

They tried to protect us from the world

because we were different.

But I was starting to see it was the world

that needed protecting from us.

Our mother never really talked much

about her past.

She felt we should just...

...create our own story. Ynstead.

Maybe she was right.

We were on our own now and...

...things couldn't stay the same.

Don't move.

Or what?

I'll be forced to shoot you...

- ...again.

- Oh yeah?

And finally.

This is my little brother Lenny.

He was innocent of all this

before it went bad.

- Sh*t...

- What?

Don't move.

- I let you take it.

- Oh yeah?

Yeah.

- I love you.

- Love you, too.

Like real guys!

Let's do it again, let's do it again,

let's do it!

- For twenty bucks this time.

- Alright, alright, alright.

- Oh really?

- Me and you, buddy, me and you.

I got you. The game is called

Two up, two down.

- Twenty! Me and you.

- You're on!

Let's go!

Okay, on the count of three, go!

- Ah!

- Whoa!

Everyone on the floor!

You too!

Think you're special, old man?

Get down!

I said now, a**hole!

Where's Wendell?

Uh, probably in the bar.

Why, you want me to go get him?

- No, I got him.

- No, Lenny!

I got him.

Yeah, man, do your thing.

Open the register!

- Come on, hurry up, man!

- Hey! And don't forget about the safe.

Lenny! Lenny! Buddy!

- What the f*** did you do, man?

- Argh!

- What the f***?!

- Aaah!

And your baby's left you.

- And my baby loves me.

- You're gonna be okay...

You're gonna be okay...

No, please, no!

What are you?!

You're monsters!

Monsters!

Yes, we are.

There's one thing I left out.

We need blood to survive.

Our disease makes us kill to live.

We're that kind of monster.

We never lost control before.

And this time.

We had nowhere else to run.

This is Angela Robbins reporting live

from Mojave, California.

Behind me is the Four Aces Motel...

The surveillance footage

of the murders was all over Me news.

It went global.

They knew who we were.

Just not what we were.

Authorities are now turning to the public

for help in locating the family responsible

for what some are calling

The Vampire Killings,

due to the strange bite marks

left behind...

They called it

The Vampire Killings.

Thought we were some kind of stupid cult

or passionate Twilight lovers.

Pretty ironic.

The only place my parents ever mentioned

coming from was overseas.

So we travelled across the Atlantic.

Staying well-hidden.

Trying to keep my dying brother alive

on human blood.

The twins were searching for help

in France

while my brother David

had been looking for contacts in England.

But so far. Everything was a joke.

Or a dead end.

Hey!

You gotta settle down

or you're gonna wake him up.

You see.

We're not like you think we are.

We were born. Not made.

We walk in the sun.

And we don't crumble at crucifixes

as we are not the undead.

We can get hurt. Or die like anybody else.

But something does happen when you solely

feed off the life source of another.

You feel differently.

Everything is amplified.

Maybe that's the only reason

why my brother Lenny

had even lasted this long.

We didn't know because our parents

never taught us

how to survive this kind of thing.

I guess there's this...

...part of me that hopes

he doesn't even make it...

How he can be spared...

Don't you ever say that to me again.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

I said "part of me".

I love him just as much as you do,

Dave,

but the truth is your dream of a happy life

doesn't exist for us.

We're just cold-blooded killers,

nothing more.

Is this even about Lenny

or is this about you, Francis?

Manderson.

The contact said to drive a couple hours

north into the countryside,

there's a town called Ludlow

- and you ask for Manderson.

- And we can trust this?

What other choice do we have?

Twins haven't found anything.

It's the only lead we have.

New Interpol list is out.

I'll leave later today.

So this is about

where we left off last time.

I'd headed out looking for Manderson...

...wondering if there were others out there.

And if there were. Could we trust them?

But that doesn't really explain

how I got in here. Does it?

Let me bring you up to speed.

Where did I leave off?

Oh yeah. I had been knocked out in the pub

after a shotgun to the head.

It's been five cycles,

the breathing won't take.

She's useless.

At least we have something

we can replace her with now.

We'd better prepare.

I'm sorry for the treatment,

but you must understand

that we didn't know

if we could trust you or not.

I'm in a f***ing cage.

You let me kill a cop in broad daylight.

We needed to see what you were capable of,

Francis, and I've a family to protect.

Our kind do not have usually

the best intentions...

...so we must choose carefully

those whom we help.

Our kind.

You were testing me.

So you're Manderson.

Well, let's just say it's a word

we like to use around here.

I'm sorry about your face.

I promise I'll play nice next time.

There won't be a next time.

The constable?

Nobody's going to come looking for him?

The constable had a nasty accident.

He left the pub terribly intoxicated.

We fear he stumbled into

a rather deep ravine, snapping his neck.

All those people in the bar...

They saw everything.

Well, let's just say a portion of this town

was founded on the same needs

you and I share,

and certain arrangements were made.

This way.

Sorry, mate.

We'll get you fed, son,

and straighten this whole thing out.

Ah!

Still got a bit of spirit in you?

A little bit deep. Sorry, love. Sorry.

Welcome to our home, Francis.

The guest room is ready,

and there are some fresh towels on the bed.

I might have left you

a little something on the nightstand,

just to tide you over.

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