Voila! Finally, the Spawn
script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Todd McFarlane movie. This script is a transcript that was painstakingly
transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Spawn. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally
tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to
drop me a line. You won't
hurt my feelings. Honest.
Four hundred years have passed.
Once again,
it is time for a new warrior...
to emerge from the darkness.
Throughout time,
the battlefields have changed...
but the prize
has always remained the same:
the human soul.
Look, take out your press l.D.
I want them to see we're legit.
This is some ugly shit
we're talking about, Bennett.
We get verifiable information...
and we got the byline
of the decade.
I know.
- This way.
- We're screwed if he doesn't show.
Relax. He's a good source.
Now do me a favor. Take a Valium.
You're making me crazy.
Mr. Stevens?
I'm Dave Bennett.
This is Kenny Hayes.
We spoke on the phone.
Looks like your meeting's
been cut short.
God!
God in heaven!
God ain't here, boy.
I'll take the message.
Now, do I look like I'm
in the mood to run a marathon?
Do l?
Okay, asshole. Next question.
Who else knows?
I'm waiting for your answer,
smart boy.
Nobody.
I didn't tell anybody else.
Don't lie to me, smart boy.
Don't piss me off with that crap.
Each warrior is born as a clean slate,
knowing nothing.
The only instincts...
which they can act upon
are drawn from their past.
So?
He see no evil, hear no evil,
speak no evil.
Good.
Let's do this thing and go.
Don't do this.
You don't have to.
I won't say anything.
I swear.
Please.
I got a family.
Kids.
And for their sakes,
I hope decent life insurance.
Let him go.
Jesus!
What the hell are you?
- Stay back.
- You don't want to do that.
Help me!
I love you, Al.
Oh, no!
I came back for you!
Where are you?
Hell does not allow its warrior children
to roam unchecked.
And so each is given
their proper escort.
Oh, man, I love it.
Especially the jerk
with his head on backwards.
That is sweet!
Check his shorts.
Bet they're brimming over.
I so enjoy
the shameful details.
Now, this is very tasty.
I mean, you look at him.
You look at you.
You're a matched set!
What do you think, Spawn?
Spawn?
Yeah. As in Hellspawn.
Hey, it's what you are, baby.
So get used to it.
How did I do this?
Instinct, sweetheart.
You're a killer.
Born and bred.
You see violence, you act.
It's a gift.
That's why he picked you.
Who?
I can't remember anything.
What's wrong with me?
Too long under the tanning booth,
by the look of it.
Where...
is me?
What's happened?
Who am l?
Hey, Bobby.
I think he's coming around.
Wanda.
Jesus Christ on a crutch!
What the hell is that?
I don't know.
But he might need help.
Hey, mister, are you okay?
You've been screaming and moaning
for ten minutes.
Wanda.
She'll know who I am.
Maybe you should lie down or something,
you know?
Sleep it off.
I know how I get.
Too much Thunderbird
and I'm dancing naked in Times Square.
She's my wife.
Wanda.
Are you crazy, Gareb? You saw
what he did to those poor bastards!
Probably speeding on PCP or something.
Maybe you need a little hair
of the dog--
Get away from me.
I was just trying to help.
Okay?
I don't want your help.
What you want and need
aren't the same.
This place is a refuge
from the maelstrom.
Get out of my way, old man.
You don't remember.
It doesn't matter.
It's what you learn now
that's important.
I just want to go home.
Now move, or be moved.
Listen. We all want to go home,
my friend...
but it's war getting there.
Mason. Mafia dirtbag piece of shit.
He never looked better.
Sir, I don't think the CSU...
is going to appreciate you sprinkling
doughnut crumbs onto the deceased.
I hate early morning.
Nothing human up at this hour.
No, sir.
Just us civil servants.
And dead mob scumbags.
Nicely put, sir.
Tony Twist's gonna need serious drugs
when he finds out.
These three bozos
were his best hitters.
So, one of these things
is not like the others.
What's his story?
David Bennett, journalist
with the Washington Post.
Same as the one at the alley's
far end.
Except Bennett's won a Pulitzer
for his investigative piece...
on the congressional scandal
three years ago.
Hey, if it ain't on ESPN,
I couldn't give a shit.
No, sir.
Okay. So we got two dead reporters
from Washington.
Three dead hitters for Tony Twist.
What about the other stiff?
Homeless. No l.D. yet.
His prints came up nil.
Probably just an alley mushroom.
Popped up at the wrong time.
Another verbal ace, sir.
- Twitch?
- Sir?
Find me a connection
between all these toe tags.
But first, find me something
with chocolate sprinkles.
Two dozen, sir?
Half that.
You know I'm on a diet.
That's your best friend.
Here's to AI Simmons...
the best friend a poor, number-crunching
jerk like me could have.
Dad!
- Wait, honey!
- Daddy!
Someone wants to say good-bye.
- Bye-bye, Daddy.
- See you later, sweetness.
Perhaps you can do that with me
later, mister.
- Bye-bye, sweetie.
- Bye-bye.
Bye-bye.
Okay, Cyan.
Let's get you off to day care.
As they tear away each new layer...
there's always
an agonizing price to pay.
How long has it been?
Where have I been?
Goddamn it!
What's happened to me?
It's Hell's plan...
to keep the new recruits confused...
hoping to discourage the warriors
of any personal mission.
Oh, please!
Don't tell me you're getting
all bent out of shape over a woman.
Okay, so she was the love of your life
and the only thing that mattered...
in this whole disgusting,
putrid little universe.
Okay? So now your former best friend,
compadre, amigo...
is putting it to her
on a regular basis.
Okay. So she wanted kids...
and you were obviously firing blanks.
Want a lick?
It's rocky road.
- Get away from me.
- You can't blame her.
After all, you've been dead
almost five years.
- You're lying.
- If I'm lying, I'm dying...
which would be kind of redundant.
Anyway, Spawn, your former self...
meaning one hell-bent-for-leather,
kick-ass, take-no-prisoners...
government assassin
by the name of AI Simmons...
is dead.
It's not true.
Sure, it is,
and you know it.
Hey, tough guy.
Where do you think you're going?
The best is yet to come.
Don't you want to know where you've
been? You did ask, so you must.
Look! Back off!
Before I permanently introduce your face
to your colon.
You know, you're kind of cute...
when you get all indignant like that.
You got nowhere to go, Spawn.
Don't you want to know where you been?
I'll give you a hint.
Where do you think someone
who slaughtered people for a living...
would end up after he's dead?
Hmm?
You came back for her, Spawn.
You came back for Wanda.
She's got a life now.
She's got a child
you couldn't give her...
and a husband
who's still wearing his face.
What do you got, char baby?
Not me. I'm me.
Goddamn it. I'm not dead.
I'm not here.
The new spawns each try to deny
what they've become...
hoping that a small spark of truth...
will awaken them
from their nightmare.
With this ring, I thee wed.
Oh, God!
My God. Why?
How did this happen to me?
You made a deal,
you stupid son of a bitch.
You made a deal with Malebolgia.
You cut a deal for your soul.
The deal was you'd see Wanda
and then become Hellspawn...
a ranking officer in the devil's army.
Well, now you've seen her.
Time to pay the piper.
Get off me!
Now, cast from Hell...
the warriors cross paths
with their own demons in human form.
You scumbag, douche bag-eating,
motherfucking...
cock-sucking, shit,
motherfucking frig!
I'll take your fucking head
and chop it off!
Calm down, Tony.
Just tell me what went wrong.
What went wrong...
is somebody
took three of my best guys...
and threw them into what must have been
a walking wood chipper.
This was supposed to be
a simple gig, Wynn!
What the hell are you trying to pull
on me, huh?
I mean, we're talking about
my best hit men...
getting mercilessly whacked
over here.
How do I deal with this?
They were ambushed, snipered? What?
They're now wearing
their goddamn heads on backwards.
Their bones got pretzeled by somebody
who knows how to do it right.
I see.
Yeah. I see too.
I see you asking me to do you a favor...
and my cleaning crew gets taken out
by some asshole...
who thinks he's the Terminator.
I'm sensing an accusation here, Tony.
All I'm saying is
this smells like the work...
of a goddamn
government-trained assassin.
And that just happens to be
your stock in trade.
It wasn't any of mine.
And if I were you,
I'd be very careful...
about the next time I made such strong
implications without the facts.
So what about the journalists?
- In tomorrow's obits.
- Good.
Yeah, for you.
This shit's cost me big-time.
You'll be amply compensated
for your loss.
Let me know what you find out
about this mystery assassin.
I'll send you his liver
and maybe a couple of fingers.
- Hello?
- The newsman has been dealt with.
- Who did you use?
- Mafia elements. Nothing traceable.
Good. Thank you.
- And, as we discussed--
- The appropriations are in place.
As of now you've got unlimited credit
with the Department of Defense.
I appreciate that, Senator.
Believe me, it was worth it.
I'll feel free to call if there are
any further complications.
Of course, but tell me, how long
do you intend to cover for him?
As long as I have to.
He's a child killer.
Look, we've been through this before.
You don't have a son...
Iet alone one you can't
give your name to.
So what he does is my problem,
understand?
These journalists won't be the last.
You can't keep this quiet forever.
Yes, I can. You see,
the dead keep their secrets.
Okay, man.
What'd I do, huh?
Shut up and get your ass
on the ground now.
What'd I do, man?
Well, if it isn't Officer Hector
from lnternal Affairs!
Word is you told the captain
we're skimming off the top.
Listen, if you can't keep your mouth
shut, we'll shut it for you.
What kind of shit is--
Why is it that people with authority
abuse their power?
A word of advice, Officer.
Retire.
That's it, Spawn.
Let yourself go.
Get pissed.
Do some damage.
Don't take shit from nobody.
And, oh, yeah,
the big boy downstairs.
'Cause this is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang,
but with a lot of blood...
and torn flesh and broken bones.
And I just love it.
And so the game has begun again.
After years,
a new warrior takes center stage...
preparing for the great battle.
And with him comes pain, death...
and the vile stench of brimstone.
And for my sister.
Quit shoving!
I was here first.
Shut up!
It's the ice cream guys!
Let's go!
Come on, you guys!
- There he is!
- We're coming!
- Do you have Drumsticks?
- What about Creamsicles?
Hell has many demons in training.
This one is known as Billy Kincaid.
Images of love and hate...
torture them all at first.
It is the way of things
for each new warrior.
There is no respite
from the inner pain.
My God. Not another one.
Another one?
What do you mean?
Kids get dumped here.
Never had a chance. Horrible, isn't it?
She has a little girl now.
- Who?
- She wanted children.
She went to doctors,
but it was me all along.
You know,
not wanting to pry or nothing...
but some of us were kind of curious.
You know, wondering
just what the hell are you?
Somebody who doesn't
want to be bothered.
That's what I told them.
When he wants to talk,
he'll talk. Right?
- Don't hold your breath.
- Look, mister.
Figure you're hanging around
these alleys for a reason.
Maybe you just want some company.
I've got nowhere else to go,
that's all.
Could be you need a friend.
All I need is Wanda,
but I can't have her.
- Not like this.
- Why not?
You ask stupid questions.
I've seen lots worse.
I used to work for a mortician.
That makes me feel better.
Get outta here.
You know, folks around here
don't look or smell so nice...
but we're good people.
We share what we've got.
You're welcome to it.
With each new Hellspawn...
there's always the question:
How long, if at all,
can they hang onto their humanity?
Some last longer than others.
He kills a bunch of guys,
leaves for a while...
comes back and camps down here
in Rat City.
He looks like something out of goddamn
Stephen King, for Christ's sake.
Nobody invited him.
This is our place.
Need to kick his ugly ass out of here.
What's he doing, Gareb?
You talked to him, right?
- This is our place.
- Damn right.
Bogey's a stinking freak.
- He's got problems.
- Yeah.
- Did you see his face?
- Christ!
No, I'm serious.
He's, I don't know, troubled.
Really screwed up.
Ain't we all?
Thing is, he's dangerous.
I mean, we can't sleep
with that thing down here.
We don't know what he is,
what he wants. Nothing!
If you ask me, don't need
to borrow any more problems.
Life's shitty enough.
It's the truth.
Get his ass outta here.
What are we, perfect?
Just kick him out. Is that it?
He's sitting by himself
in the heart of Rat City.
Where's he supposed to go
from there? Potter's Field?
The guy looks like a goddamn vampire!
Yeah, Bobby. What did you look like
when you first crawled in here?
You want him to stay, fine.
You go right ahead.
But when you wake up in a pool of blood
with your head on backwards...
don't come crying to me.
Maybe we can scrape together
some food for him.
He's not some goddamn pet
you get to keep!
Think about it, man.
Gareb, you dumb son of a bitch.
Yo! Look out!
Get outta here!
All right, you alley pukes.
Who's gonna stay alive by telling me
what I want to know?
You know who whacked Tony's boys,
right?
Please. I don't.
Buzz. Too late.
Okay. Who's our next
happy contestant?
The double jeopardy answer is:
the person...
who took out three
very dapper ltalian men...
whilst they were about the business
of their esteemed employer.
You look like a couple of smart turds
with big eyes.
Give me the question I'm looking for
and win your lives. Oh!
And just so you know...
the loser gets parting gifts
made out of Teflon...
and I ain't talking cookware.
I'll even help you out
in case you don't watch game shows.
Okay. It goes like this.
- Who is--
- About to take your head off.
All right, game boy.
This is what you're gonna do.
Stay alive long enough
to give your boss--
- What's his name?
- Tony.
Tell Tony to keep his goons
out of these alleys.
As of now, they're out of bounds.
You're gonna give him my message.
'Cause as far as I know,
I'm already dead.
Which means I'm waiting
for your sorry ass in the afterlife.
What'd I tell you, huh?
He's something, ain't he?
Name is Bobby.
Al.
Everybody?
Meet Al.
New warriors often find allies...
among those damned
by society.
For a while it gives them
a sense of security.
But they couldn't be more wrong.
Hello.
What?
When?
Is he still alive?
Did he say who did it?
I don't give a shit
if he needs a doctor!
Find out who whacked my men,
or you're gonna need a priest!
Yeah, it's Tony.
I'm calling in my marker.
Don't give me that shit.
You owe me.
Send him. Today! Right now!
By the time I hang up this phone,
he better be over the Atlantic.
Damn it.
Let me guess.
The first day on the pro bono case.
- Is it that obvious?
- It's the only time you get frazzled.
I'm just going over the case files
today.
- The subject matter--
- What is it?
Kyle Watson, a child killer.
Indicted on four counts.
Two of them, little girls.
Can't you pass on this one?
And give the partners something
to whine about?
No. I can handle it.
Gonna have your asses up
on so many goddamn charges...
your great-grandchildren
will be answering subpoenas!
I'm a United States senator!
Now, you don't break into my room
and snatch me off a woman!
You don't throw me in a helicopter
to New York in the frigging night!
Sorry for the inconvenience,
Senator.
I trust we didn't interrupt anything
deeply personal.
But I thought this needed
a face-to-face.
Jesus. Wynn.
What the hell is this all about?
It's about us, Senator.
Our relationship.
I hear you're going to take a pass
on the presidential race.
How do you know that?
I've barely told my wife!
I wanna put you in the White House,
Senator.
Yeah. Right. Exactly how many skeletons
do I have in my closet?
Per our arrangement, I've been holding
the key to that closet for some time--
gouging the eyes out of anyone
who so much as looks in its direction.
- You're serious.
- Always.
All right. Say I run.
What do you get out of it?
A friend in a very high place.
To be honest, I never wanted
the Oval Office.
I'm content fighting battles
from the senate floor.
Maybe a Speaker of the House.
Sorry. Not good enough.
In other words,
you're not asking me.
And if I refuse?
I see a closet opening.
Your own Pandora's box.
You could do that, but then
I'd have to call the president...
about a certain international tea party
you're throwing with DOD ordnance.
The scandal would make Watergate
and lran Contra...
seem like a mild fart
on Capitol Hill.
Look, McMillan,
you get something straight right now.
This isn't just about you and me.
Last time I checked,
you had friends and family.
I can make them suffer too.
But more importantly...
who's going to protect your bastard son
Billy from New York's finest?
I hear the cons on Riker's
despise child killers.
Raped one last year
with a band saw.
We're in bed together, Senator.
We have been for quite a while.
So relax, bend over...
and enjoy it.
and enjoy it.
What the hell's it about this alley,
Twitch?
- The atmosphere.
- What do we know?
More of Tony Twist's crew.
Right. Troubleshooters.
Guys sent in to settle scores.
Precisely, sir.
Looks like they got settled instead.
No reporters this time.
Perhaps he was allowed to leave.
Sending a message to big Tony.
Twist doesn't like
getting spanked this hard.
There's gonna be a war down here...
unless we can figure out
what's going on.
What about those reporters?
Nothing yet, sir. Rumor has it
they were tracking someone high up.
A major scandal.
But that's all so far.
- But there is one unusual element.
- What?
The dead homeless man
from the previous killings.
The mushroom.
His name's Jeff Stevens.
Former technical head
of SpecCom Cellular.
So why's he driving Dumpsters
on our beat?
Seems he was listening in
on some very high level conversations.
I gotta figure
Stevens heard something huge...
hoped to trade off his indictment
for what he was sitting on...
and use the news boys
as middle men.
Astute, as always, sir.
Now, breakfast.
I have a map of the local color, sir.
Do you prefer grease or sugar?
Both. I'm feeling tense.
Burke, that fat bastard.
Yeah, he's gonna give a shit
about this case.
Yeah.
When does he land?
Good. Pick him up the second he
touches down and bring him to my office.
You want justice done right,
you gotta buy it yourself.
Ah, I'll be honest.
I figured you for a rumor.
You know, ex-CIA killer
turned ruthless mercenary.
Little more than a skeleton
on a respirator for almost three years.
I mean, please!
The pain was cleansing.
How'd you come back from there?
The rumors you've heard about me
are all true.
You got no conscience...
no soul, when it comes to killing.
What I've got
is a hungry bank account.
Right now someone's paying me
top dollar on your behalf.
So what seems to be the problem?
You keep up with current events?
Only where death is concerned.
Your men have had a bad week.
Yeah. Well, I want the piece of shit
responsible.
Bring me his bones in one bag
and his organs in another, okay?
Of course.
But I'll be keeping the heart myself.
- For what?
- Dinner.
Such sweet folks, those homeless.
They will take anybody in...
including a freak like you,
Spawn.
Hey. Maybe you'll
meet a nice homeless woman...
and raise a bunch of homeless kids.
Wouldn't that just be keen?
What the hell do you want?
Right to the point.
I really like that.
Because it's not what the hell
do I want...
it's what does Hell
want to do with you.
Care to know what that is?
No? Okay.
Here it is.
It is time to get real. Got it?
Hey. A deal's a deal,
and Malebolgia, my boss and yours...
delivered on his end.
You got to see your wife.
Dear, sweet, tasty Wanda.
I gotta say, Spawnie,
baby's got back.
You're about two seconds
from wearing that smile around your ass.
Yeah, kiss me first.
All right? Anyway...
it's business now, big boy.
You got the uniform and the attitude,
so let's get to it.
To what?
You're a Hellspawn.
The Earth is ready to burn.
You're the guy with the match...
and I'm here to make sure
you do the job right.
Look, I don't have time for this.
I got my own problems.
You don't just turn your back
on your obligations.
You think you're too good
to be a Hellspawn?
You should be down on your knees
thanking Malebolgia...
for the privilege of being
a ranking officer in this Hell's Army.
You should be down
on your knees thanking me...
for not killing you where you stand.
Yeah, right.
I don't think you know
who you're dealing with.
But it's time you found out.
Listen, fat boy.
I've had just about enough!
Yeah, baby!
Right there!
That's how Daddy likes it!
You'll feel some pain.
- But I know you can hear me.
- Get out of my head!
It's how us children of hell
communicate--
through telepathy.
So begins your training.
What are you?
A creature far superior to humans.
A true native of Hell.
Something no spawn will ever be.
Fool. You can't rely on weapons.
That's not why he chose you.
There's something in you...
that Malebolgia senses--
something evil.
There are rules to follow.
It's my task to make sure you do.
Consider this a friendly reminder.
Get with the fucking program.
You spawn have never been worthy.
I'll be back for you.
And when I come, you better
be ready to rock and roll.
This is the farewell bash
for humanity.
And you,
you're bringing the party favors.
Oh, and a word to the wise.
Laying there all twisted up like that
is no good for your back.
That was pathetic...
but not altogether unexpected.
Your powers are finite.
Use them sparingly.
What am I into here?
- What do you think?
- I think it's insane!
Am I dead or am I alive?
What am l?
You're going to have to trust yourself
for the answers.
If you know what the hell's going on,
old man...
I'd suggest you tell me straight.
There's a war on
between Heaven and Hell...
and you are on the front lines.
- What war?
- The only war.
Earth is the battlefield.
Human souls, the prize.
Just the way it's always been.
You're nuts, you know that?
Look.
You have to pay attention
to the world you're in.
You might think you're doing good,
taking out the bad element.
But you just can't go around killing
without a little forethought.
There are repercussions
you can't even imagine.
Stop tap dancing around the issue
and spit it out.
I wish it were that easy.
All I'm trying to say is...
you've still got a choice.
What kind of choice?
If I told you, it wouldn't matter.
Just find out.
Then make the right choice.
But don't wait too long. The sands
are always running against you.
How am I supposed to find out?
How, indeed?
Please! I didn't see nothing!
Shut up.
I'm looking for someone
who very recently...
killed a handful of greasy wise guys.
Are you aware of such a person?
Don't kill me, please.
I'm not worth it.
I'm less than nothing.
I keep to myself!
Are you aware of such a person?
Yeah! I've seen him.
Scary guy. He's been hanging around
down in Rat City.
Deep alley.
Nobody goes back there.
It's a pit.
You're sure this is the person
who killed my employer's men?
Yeah. Ripped them apart.
He seemed to enjoy it a little,
you know?
- I do know.
- Can I go?
In a moment.
First I need to borrow something.
They all pick a place to call home.
In most instances,
those places have a hidden power.
For this warrior...
the alleys are no different.
He is drawn back again and again...
and doesn't know why.
It's Rollo.
"Hero. Midnight.
Be waiting."
What the hell does that mean?
Look at the shit
you brought us, man.
- I hope you're happy.
- It was horrible!
We couldn't stop him.
Just watch as he tore him apart.
Just one?
Yeah. He was a big son of a bitch.
Had weapons and other crap
coming out of his arms!
And this eye!
Glowing red, like blood.
He was looking for the person
who whacked some big shot's hit man.
- Even when he told him, he killed him!
- What are we gonna do?
It's exactly : midnight
in Nairobi.
Tell me you're not the guy
who took out Tony's men.
Tell me it's somebody
with some balls...
and not some no-talent asshole
with a faggy outfit.
When threatened,
Spawn resorts to what he knows:
his ingrained instinct to survive.
Though the uniform
will often protect him...
a spawn is not invincible.
Each battle drains his strength...
propelling him
toward the inevitable:
his final descent into Hell.
Oh, what a mess.
Al!
Don't waste your breath.
Trying to hide
from emotional torment...
new warriors always
seek their old ways first.
This latest spawn
is no exception.
A killer in need of his tools.
"Ordnance"
Welcome home, Al.
Nice to see you again.
This is the Central lntelligence Agency
security shift commander.
You have entered a restricted
ordnance storage facility.
Come out hands high,
or we will open fire.
Go hot when you have
target acquisition.
Fire.
The first teleportation
is the worst...
coming as unexpectedly...
as having the host's uniform
save them in the first place.
If he's dead, just leave him.
Probably better off.
Cops, fire trucks,
dead bodies everywhere!
Hey, Al. You okay?
Just need a second.
Come back to do some more damage?
We ain't got enough dead and wounded?
Hey, come on, Bobby!
Can't you see he's laid up?
He ain't the only one!
Seen the north alley lately?
Looks like frigging Beirut.
Look at him now. Man's got more guns
than the National Guard.
What are you, some kind of psycho?
I'm just protecting myself.
Oh, yeah?
Who's gonna protect us from you?
- What the hell are you looking at?
- You.
You're starting to sound like
the outside.
Well, I can get your thermals back up
and your full UV specs...
but you're going to experience
red shift in your fast-scan.
This is patchwork at best.
Can I use the eye?
Yes or no?
Yes, but no extended night vision
or close-up reading.
Knock, knock.
I want someone monitoring the phones
all day.
If Overkill doesn't call,
I want him found and brought to me.
What is this shit? I hire people,
they get killed, they disappear.
Find out what my horoscope
is for this month.
- Overkill.
- Son of a bitch.
That he was.
But then again, so are you.
What the fuck!
Who are you?
What do you want?
Anything at all.
I want you to stay out of the alleys,
Tony.
Your business there is done.
Understand?
Whatever wild hair you had up your ass
about that place is officially plucked.
You. You slaughtered my men.
I'll let you in on a little secret.
They were doing bad things.
But relax.
I'm through killing your men.
Next time...
if I see one of your brain dead thugs
so much as spit in those alleys...
I'm gonna come back and pay you
a little visit, Tony.
And believe me,
it won't be as pleasant...
as the visit
I paid your hired cyborg.
So here's how it goes.
As of now, you work for me...
and your job is very simple.
Give me my space.
Understand?
All I want
is a little peace and quiet.
- Got it, fat boy?
- Yes.
- Say it.
- I work for you...
and you want peace and quiet.
- And who am l?
- I don't know.
That's right.
You don't know.
Let that little mystery
keep you up at night.
Fuck!
Faced with the stark reality
that every battle can't be won...
the Hellspawns then crave
an emotional refuge...
to soothe their physical pain.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
Morning, Donna.
Messages? Coffee, please.
You're an angel.
Now give me the bad news.
Two depositions out at Riker's
on your pro bono rotation.
One is Kyle Watson.
- Sorry. I couldn't put it off.
- It's okay.
Even an accused child killer
needs a good defense, right?
Well, not too good.
This guy's supposed to be a monster.
They found the last three little girls
without any fingers and-- Oh.
- Wanda.
- Forget it.
This whole thing just bothers me.
- Anyway, when's my next one?
- : .
- See if you can move it to County.
- Okay.
Hey, don't you
just love pro bono work?
Funny. Get out.
All right, Mr. Watson.
My name is Wanda Blake,
and I'll be taking over your defense.
We're gonna need some general
information during these proceedings...
and I'll be recording this.
You're gonna have to slow it down
for him, ma'am.
You see, Kyle, he's a bit slow.
His daddy used to beat him
something awful...
and the doctors say
that it did something...
to his synapse and whatnot.
But he does understand why he's here.
I didn't do nothing.
I been a good boy.
I been very good.
Kyle, you're accused
of murdering eight children.
You have a history
of deviant and abusive behavior.
Well, that's all over and done with,
ma'am.
Kyle's been on his medicine now
for two-and-one-half years.
I been a good boy.
I don't hurt nobody no more.
I can't and I won't.
I got pills now, every day.
According to his records, the pills
are castrators. They keep him impotent.
I can't diddle myself no more
or nothing.
I'm a good boy.
Kyle, you were given a toxicology test
when you were arrested. Correct?
The police tested you for drugs?
Uh-huh.
I'm no doctor,
but based on what I've heard...
this castrator drug
has a cumulative effect...
and takes up to two months to work
its way out of the user's system.
What are you saying?
Well, looking at the crime lab reports
on the children...
they were all sexually assaulted.
Then again, the police found conclusive
evidence in Kyle's room...
on his clothes, in his car...
blood and tissue matches, semen matches,
DNA prelims are positive.
With this solid a case against Kyle,
the best I can do...
is try to keep him off death row.
Don't let them kill my baby.
Please, ma'am.
I already done lost my husband
and my little girl.
Poor Kylie here's all I got left.
Kyle.
Look at me.
Did you hurt any of those children?
I don't hurt nobody.
I'm a good boy.
The media spokesperson for the
New York City Police Department...
had no comment concerning
the inexplicable upswing in violence...
in a specific low income area
of lower Manhattan.
Asked to possibly reopen
the Kyle Watson child killer case...
in light of what was termed
a blatant oversight by the police...
defense attorney Wanda Blake
is responsible for this revelation.
If I see that news footage
one more time--
But you look so good.
Someone buried that toxicology report
on purpose.
Planted evidence. I just hope
I'm doing the right thing.
Don't worry. If you screw up,
we can always move.
Stop it, you!
When are you coming to bed?
As soon as I solve this puzzle.
What is it?
Monthly check of CIA ordnance catalogs.
Code numbers don't match.
Just doesn't make sense.
- Wanna know what makes sense?
- What?
I'll have to show you.
I love you, Wanda.
Baby!
Shake it, don't break it!
Having a good time, I trust?
Yeah. Whatever.
You really should learn
how to relax, Chapel.
Blood helps me relax.
Got any for me?
A weapons shipment
going to North Korea.
You accompany them
with our compliments.
And?
Wait nine hours.
Then obliterate the shipment
and give them a bloody nose.
- Who takes the fall?
- Peruvian terrorists.
After that I'll have something for you
closer to home.
When's the hop?
Tomorrow morning.
Usual pickup and delivery.
- What?
- I don't like downtime. You know that.
So get a hobby.
- Come on, baby!
- Shake it, don't break it!
You're coming with me.
Hey, asshole.
You got a fucking problem?
No, Al!
Hey, Chapel.
We're partners, right?
Al, I'm sorry!
Sorry! Al!
In local news,
it looks like police...
are gonna cut child killer
Kyle Watson loose after all.
Thanks to his attorney Wanda Blake,
independent investigators have found...
that evidence may actually
have been planted. Wow.
Somebody check if those cops
ever worked for the L.A.P.D.
Okay. And now...
back to our all big-band sounds.
Golden lads and girls
all must...
as chimney sweepers,
come to dust.
Oh, yeah.
Who says I ain't cultured?
Billy Shakespeare,
meet Billy Kincaid.
Both great artists...
whose works will live on forever.
He waits, as they all do...
for a sign, a warning...
something to set events
in motion.
Few warriors realize that
the battle between Heaven and Hell...
is constant, ongoing...
incident after incident...
part of an unending chain.
The domino principle.
That's what scientists
call it.
One thing happens that triggers
another and another and another.
And in the end
all will be revealed...
no matter how wonderful...
or hideous the result.
Mr. Twist, I just want to say
you can count on me.
Whatever it is you need,
you got.
Right now I need you to shut up
and listen. This is important.
- You listenin'?
- Yeah, Mr. Twist.
You're flying to Rome in an hour.
Go straight to the man.
- You know who I'm talking about?
- Yes, Mr. Twist.
You prostrate yourself before him.
Understand?
You tell him, in no uncertain terms,
that we are very, very sorry...
about what happened to Overkill.
We screwed up. We will pay
for his repair. You got that?
Yes, Mr. Twist.
You're speaking for me on this,
Castellano.
Beg his forgiveness.
Get on your knees.
Kiss his ass, his balls, whatever
he needs for this to be all right.
I understand.
Our tits are in a fucking wringer.
We don't need trouble from Rome.
Tell him we'll fix it all
on our end.
Don't worry.
I got it covered.
Get going.
I can't believe this crap's
been going on without me.
Hey, sweetie,
didn't I see you in a magazine?
Got a boyfriend, beaver treat?
Somebody to lick away
your day?
I can do that for you.
Want me to show you?
Yeah. Show me.
It's a big city girl day
in the neighborhood.
You a big city girl, baby?
Good hunting's
where you find it.
"Hunting"? We got ourselves
some kind of sports babe.
- Sorry about this.
- Oh, don't apologize, baby.
It's all our fault.
But it's gonna be fun...
for us.
I don't think so.
Look who it is.
What's she doing here?
- Angela.
- Hey, you can't--
I know she's in,
and she's gonna see me.
How dare you burst
into my office like this?
Why wasn't I called
about the Hellspawn?
What are you talking about?
You've had me
taken out of the loop.
Angela. Really.
Save it, Gabrielle.
He's mine.
You're not the only hunter
in the universe, Angela.
I've taken out
the last two Hellspawns...
and I want this one.
You realize it's this kind of behavior
that makes it difficult to trust you.
There's one thing I do well--
hunt.
A lot of people don't like that,
including you, but that won't stop me.
Go through the proper channels.
Those channels lead to you.
I'm here.
I'm talking to you, Ambassador.
- What about the permit?
- Denied.
How long will you have it in for me?
A century?
- Two?
- Follow appropriate protocol.
Maybe I'll reconsider.
Just try and keep me
out of this.
Good-bye, Angela.
Hey! Let the little guys
have some.
Always pullin' for the underdog,
eh, Wanda?
You know me.
So, what do you got?
- You got it?
- I had to grease more palms...
than you'll find at a peep show,
but yeah, I got it.
I've still got friends on the force,
but this shit's like Ebola.
Nobody wants nothing
to do with it.
Not here.
I don't mean
to sound paranoid...
but what you got there
is big.
How big, Max?
Raw evidence from the last kid--
Uncut, unedited--
and a latent print off the little girl's
eyeball, clear as Christmas.
An actual fingerprint?
- Thumb from the left hand of your perp.
- Not Watson's.
No. This print
belongs to your killer.
I was right.
Kyle Watson took the fall
for those child murders.
This proves it.
Save the champagne
and cheese doodles.
This son of a bitch was purposely
misfiled, vaulted and buried.
Are we talking about a conspiracy
inside the police?
I think maybe
it goes beyond that.
Someone's covering
this sick bastard's ass with Kevlar.
- Someone with a lot of muscle.
- Who?
I don't wanna know,
and neither should you.
- Watch your back, Wanda.
- Thanks, Max. I owe you.
You'll get my consultation fee.
Max, you're amazing.
Why are you following her?
I'm talking to you, dirtbag.
Not a healthy idea.
I want answers now!
Starting with your boss's name.
Go on. I'm listening.
I just wanted
those code numbers.
I'm not interested
in code numbers, Terry.
We lost a large number of weapons
from that ordnance annex a week ago.
Yes, I know, but--
I want an analysis
from your department...
telling me
who could've done this.
They had the son of a bitch cornered,
and somehow he got away...
weapons and all.
- Impossible!
- Incredible.
I haven't seen a maneuver like that
since AI Simmons.
I don't wanna have to explain
this screw-up to the president.
It may have been
an inside job, sir.
What are you talking about?
Well, sir, I've been running
some cataloging reports on my own...
and I caught some code discrepancies
in our weapons storage files.
- Go on.
- I did some checking.
Someone might be diverting weapons
shipments to other delivery sites...
then changing the info
in the computer.
- You have any proof of this?
- It's all here in my report.
Who else have you talked to
about this?
No one, sir.
- I wanted to come straight to you.
- Excellent.
I'm glad you did.
As of right now, Terry,
your job is to track down...
every instance of these discrepancies
in the weapons shipment files.
I need verification and evidence if I'm
going into this with an investigation.
- Yes, sir.
- Keep me informed.
I just want to go on record
and say I hope I'm wrong.
I hope this is just
some horrible mix-up.
I'll second that.
Thank you, Terry.
Goddamned Boy Scout.
Last thing I need is him turning heads
by talking to someone.
Fortunately, Terry's a loyal puppet.
He always works in the best interests
of his employer.
Let him find all the loose ends.
We'll tie them up later.
Right now, I need to find
those weapons...
somehow keep us on our timetable.
Recovered images
from Overkill's internal camera.
Rome will want Tony's fat ass
for this.
Nothing like a home video
of your own evisceration.
- I thought you were dead.
- I am.
You've got some balls
coming here, hero.
What the hell is that?
And what's it doing
with my weapons?
Who's laughing now?
Darkness is all around you,
Spawn.
We both know it.
We both feel it.
It's closing in on you.
Heaven on one side,
Hell on the other...
and they're both gunning
for your scorched ass.
Oh, it's so nice being wanted.
Dickhead puts a gun in his mouth
and blows his brains out.
Homicide, my ass.
Anything?
Some very twisted individuals
in our nation's capital, sir.
Why they're willing to express
such intimate, often sexual thoughts...
over a cell phone,
I'll never know.
I'll tell you why, Twitch.
People are friggin' morons.
How much more?
Mr. Stevens had a very extensive
library of pirated conversations.
There's perhaps
another or hours, at least.
Christ, we ain't
got that kind of time.
Chief's all over this
"alley death spree" shit.
At least there haven't been
any more killings, sir.
Yeah. What?
That's supposed to make me
feel better?
It's the friggin' calm
before the friggin' monsoon.
Quite right, sir.
Street buzz had Overkill in town,
which should have meant a bloodbath...
but nobody's seen him in a week
and nobody saw him leave.
He's hard to miss, sir.
Exactly.
It's weird crap,
this whole business.
I hate loose ends, Twitch.
They piss me off.
On the national front...
outspoken Republican senator
Scott McMillan...
has unexpectedly thrown his hat
into the presidential ring.
The American people want someone
to step into the White House...
and put an end to overinflated,
underachieving...
tax-and-spend government.
Our nation needs someone
on the front lines...
who isn't afraid to give the government
the housecleaning it's needed...
for a very long time...
and I am that someone.
This guy's got them eating
out of his undies.
Did you look at this file?
Of course I did.
This photographer
is from Washington, D.C., sir.
This jerk-off worked
for the Post?
No, sir.
Take a look at line
under his l.D. and fingerprint report.
Well, shit on me
and call me a sundae.
Mr. Humboldt here works
for the U.S. government.
A pool photographer
for the House of Representatives.
Weirder and weirder.
Guy falls out of a tree,
breaks his arm...
then blows his brains out.
For what?
Actually, the report states
Humboldt's arm was broken...
by assailant
or assailants unknown.
Yeah, yeah, whatever.
Why can't these D.C. assholes
die in their own goddamn town?
- Very inconsiderate of them, sir.
- Shut up, Twitch.
Just find out if this jerk's connected
to Stevens or these reporters or both...
and order me a hoagie.
What the fuck is this?
No one can know I'm here.
- You don't bust in and fuck with me!
- Shut up, Tony.
What do you know about the creature
on that video you sent me?
Nothing.
Just that he's
one lethal son of a bitch.
Anyone who can whack out
Overkill--
I need it found,
but I can't do it directly.
Forget it!
He told me stay out of his way.
Believe me, that's exactly
what I'm gonna do.
This isn't a request.
You find him,
then you contact me.
And maybe I can help you
deal with your ltalian situation.
- What's this?
- A package from Rome.
My people intercepted it
from your people.
- You having my guys followed?
- I keep tabs on all my friends.
Be honored. Enjoy.
Christ!
Your client's negligence killed
two children in that fire.
Your security cameras
verify it.
Kelly, the bad press alone
is worth the million you're offering.
Look, Kelly, I gotta go.
Yes, right now.
More money. That's what I want
to close this case.
"More money."
The lawyer's motto.
I pulled the civil case on the
Reinhardt chemical fire two months ago.
- I'm trying to settle it.
- I remember that one.
The two kids in the storeroom.
What a way to go. Brutal.
Yeah, well,
the Reinhardt family is poor.
They want to take the first offer.
Something tells me
you're not gonna bite.
Forget it. They had to use
dental records to identify them.
You know, Wanda,
money won't bring them dead kids back.
Yeah, I know.
So, did you get it?
Yeah, and I had to call in
some serious favors.
These government guys protect this
high-tech shit like it's their balls.
But before I give this to you...
you gotta promise me
you won't do something stupid.
I pay, you bring. That's our deal.
But I appreciate the concern.
- So, what do we have here?
- Some heavy duty shit, that's what.
I'm worried about you, Wanda.
That's sweet, but I'm a big girl
and I need that disk, please.
Here you go.
But remember what I said.
What's your plan?
I'm gonna try to access the government's
database to find out who framed Watson.
Don't be crazy. You don't wanna
go messing with these guys.
Someone with power is protecting
a child killer. I need to find out who.
You got Watson off.
Why go on some crusade
to find this guy?
Because money
doesn't bring dead kids back.
We'll never be apart.
Never.
Oh, what a perfect day.
You make me so happy.
I love you so much, Al.
AI was never enough
for a woman like you, Wanda.
His death was the best thing
that could've happened.
You're probably right.
Wanda!
Wait! Wait, it's me!
Gareb!
Remember me? Gareb.
You don't wanna kill me, right?
- Gareb?
- Yeah.
Can I breathe now?
Another nightmare, huh?
I get them real bad sometimes...
remembering when my folks
put me in the hospital.
Said I was, you know,
touched in the head.
I thought some downtime would help,
give me a chance to sort things out.
Seems like the more I think,
the worse the nightmares get...
and I can't shut it off.
You hungry?
I got a good deal
on a half-loaf of bread.
Only a week old.
Still got some plastic wrap
around it.
Go away, Gareb.
You know, you shouldn't sit down here
alone all the time.
It ain't healthy.
I'm not worried
about my health.
I've got to figure things out.
Maybe you need to quit
all this figuring...
and just do something.
Of course,
what do I know, right?
I'm just a bum
with half a loaf of moldy bread...
and nobody to share it with
except my buddies...
Jack Daniels and Jim Beam.
You have a friend there, Spawn.
Listen to him.
Beat it, old man.
I'm in no mood.
Moments of wisdom are few
for the new warriors.
They come from
unexpected sources.
But always...
warriors feel events
churning around them...
spiraling, closing in.
Some sit and wait too long.
Others listen
to their instincts...
and prepare.
Warriors can feel forces
massing against them.
The agonizing wait for battle
becomes a way of life...
turning and twisting
their dark souls...
feeding intense rage that boils
deep in every Hellspawn--
a rage at the unfairness
of their plight...
and a feeling,
still deeper...
that they've earned it.
All units respond to kidnap,
Madison and rd Street.
Who is this freak?
Witnesses figure him for some kind
of whacked-out street preacher.
Could be that child killer
Homicide's been hunting.
Whoever the bastard is, he's dead.
He just doesn't know it yet.
Suspect holding
possible kidnap victim.
Got that right.
Did I say
I was gonna kill anybody?
No, I never said that.
Now, I may have done that...
but I never said
I was gonna kill anybody.
See, saying and doing...
are two very different things.
Don't you think?
You wouldn't just be saying that
'cause I got this grenade in my hand.
This guy's nuts.
- Fuck.
- He's gonna kill him.
Killing kids.
That's about catching the innocence.
Life, death, good, evil.
It's all right here.
Windows to the soul, boys.
Take a peek.
See the party?
You should have told them--
no sirens!
Oh, shit.
Holy shit!
What, no applause?
No appreciation.
What is this world
coming to?
You know something?
I hate that!
If you like those hands,
put them in your pockets.
Just get them out of my face!
Adam!
I know you can't hear me,
but I don't give a shit.
Get your puny ass
out here now!
Oh. Somebody else
wanna play?
How's about a game of catch?
Come on.
What do you say?
Let's go, kid.
Guess the rats would rather
play with themselves.
Officers down. Suspect
fleeing southbound through alley.
Requesting help.
Shit! There, man!
We got him!
Radio for backup,
then swing around the south end.
Suspect sighted. Officer in pursuit.
Request immediate backup.
All units, stand by. Officers requesting
backup for kidnap suspect.
We got this asshole.
We're
at Madison and rd Street.
Bottoms up, big guy.
Jesus God.
Officer down!
Repeat! Officer down!
Requesting help.
Officer down, Madison and rd Street.
Six-Adam- come in.
What's your location?
Oh, Al.
I love you, Wanda.
Maybe it's time we start thinking
about having a real family.
Mommy!
Cyan!
Holy Christ!
Come on,
you worthless cocksucker!
Tried to blow me up,
you son of a bitch!
I'll kill ya.
Come on!
- Where is he?
- What you talking about? Where's who?
Listen, asshole,
I'm not in the fucking mood.
A preacher dragging a boy.
I can't help you.
I didn't see any--
I swear to God,
I don't know nothing.
Please!
I told you I want
some goddamn answers right now!
Is this how
you protect and serve?
Shit!
I clocked him.
I know it.
Back off, shit face.
I'll do your pal.
Who made you God, little man?
Not that gun.
Not that uniform. Nothing.
You wanna scare people, fine.
I need a scarecrow.
You're gonna be
my personal message board.
I want everyone to see what happens
when they come here uninvited.
Now, isn't this
a delicious little situation.
You know, people really should
finish what they start.
But fair is fair.
That's American.
This bill is controversial because
it's not concerned with the bottom line.
It's concerned with the family,
which is the backbone of this country.
We must take a stand.
If successful,
it will enable us to thrive...
as the greatest country
in the world.
Thank you.
- Senator--
- One more question--
Are you saying you will vote
for the family relief bill today...
in spite of resistance
from Capitol Hill?
You heard my speech.
I'm not here to fight the Senate.
I'm here to help America.
- Senator, one more question--
- Thanks, everyone.
Now let's get some real food.
Ignoring my calls
is not a smart idea.
Running for president isn't
like working at the post office.
I have obligations.
Listen to me very carefully,
Senator.
Your every step, every thought, every
breath is to be cleared through me.
Understood?
You've compromised
both our positions.
What?
That bill has several amendments tacked
to it that work against my interests.
I'll get them severed.
That way
I can preserve my stance.
Unlike me,
you don't have that kind of power.
These cutbacks are locked in,
so the entire bill must fail.
I'll have to pull in some favors
to negate your vote...
and save you from looking
like a fool.
Screw up again, Scottie,
and your political career is over.
Senator,
where will you be dining?
Shut up and drive.
Kidnap suspect last seen
Madison and rd.
Jesus, what a mess.
When did a threat from a
grenade-toting psycho get treated...
Iike a typical purse-snatching?
Who dropped the ball on this?
Makes it look like a bunch of L.A. cops.
What you got, Twitch?
Grenade fragments
and a big hole, sir.
Give me something
I can work with.
This is the same alley where we found
the body of that reporter Stevens.
I know. Them dead kids
were dropped in this area too.
- Seems to be a popular spot.
- But is it a coincidence?
Stevens' taped conversations
seem to suggest a connection...
between Washington
and a child killer.
They're making
these things smaller.
Sir, I really need
to get back to those tapes.
Later, Twitch. This so-called preacher
might be our child killer.
I want him before the feds smell
a headline and take us out of the loop.
Jesus!
Oh, my God.
Get him outta there.
Stay out...
his alleys.
- Two of 'em.
- What about the preacher?
Red cloak.
Red what?
I think he said "cloak," sir.
What's that got to do
with the damn preacher?
Christ! Medics!
Get over here!
Twitch, radio headquarters. Tell them
SWAT's gonna hold a six-block radius.
We're gonna pinch this area
until I find that fucking lunatic.
Retrieving those weapons
has become critical.
The slightest delay
can shift political balances.
Terry to see you, sir.
Terry. Come in.
Sir, my investigation of the weapons
shipment hasn't turned up anything.
The only good news is, no other
shipments are currently missing.
What about
the weapons we've lost?
Well, sir, without a lead we're still
shooting in the dark, so to speak.
I suspect a Chinese terrorist group
or the Cali cartel.
Both are linked to recent espionage
attacks on European armories.
I'll have full statistical
readouts tomorrow.
Good work.
Leave this on my desk.
We'll discuss this further
after I read it.
I don't like hiding
in goddamn closets.
Well, you're not supposed to be
in the country, Chapel.
Isn't that the guy
who married AI Simmons' wife?
As I was saying, we have to
carefully position ourselves--
He should thank me for freeing up
a nice piece of ass like Wanda.
Let's focus.
The guns. That's what this is about.
Nothing else.
Not worried
about the Boy Scout?
Terry's being monitored,
just like everyone else.
Someone's got your weapons.
There's a leak somewhere.
I need it plugged.
Just let me know when
and where.
I want this mission executed
with precision and finesse.
You saying I'm sloppy?
Overzealous, like our
little South American project.
Not my fault those people
don't know how to duck.
This time
it's on American soil.
The rules are different.
Cover your tracks.
Yeah. Yeah.
Just call the ball...
so I can get out
of your fucking closet.
Now what?
- Wynn, we've got a problem.
- I'm listening.
Internal data monitoring
in D.C. suggests...
someone's been hacking into the files
of several politicians...
including me.
Don't worry.
I sanitized your political record.
Personal information,
family history.
I'm scared shitless.
I can't take my mind off it.
The Kyle Watson situation
got out of control.
That lawyer, Wanda Blake?
It must be her. One of my guys
got knocked off trailing her.
I'd assumed she'd drop her investigation
once her client got off.
She's got some ex-cop
digging into deep evidence files.
He's got enough connections
in the department...
to turn up
some very ugly shit.
So, what am I supposed to do?
Stay calm.
Run for president.
I'll take care of the rest.
Is everyone useless around here?
Trouble in paradise?
Wanda Blake's
stirring up trouble.
- Maybe Terry's rubbing off on her.
- Time is short.
First, let's get you
on target.
I want you to find
that thing in the alley.
I have a specialist
who will deal with it.
Second, I need
a pickup and delivery.
A child.
Nothing serious.
- Someone will contact you with details.
- Got it.
Kim, call Senator McMillan
and tell him...
the problem we discussed
is being resolved.
Twist will find this freak.
Then you're on.
Get the guns first,
then ask your questions.
And remember-- finesse.
Got it. Like kidnapping
your employee's baby.
- A detail.
- I always did like working for you.
Oh, my God.
- Holy shit.
- Jesus, Al.
What'd you do to him?
What happened here?
Who moved him?
I want answers!
Come on, Al.
None of us would touch him.
- We know you'd--
- None of you know anything about me!
Out of my way.
Give them a chance,
or leave them alone.
Get out of my way.
You're saving them one minute,
then spitting on them the next.
Make up your mind, Spawn.
Are you going to do what's right...
or sit on your ass and brood?
That little boy earlier today--
he's still with that psychopath.
You could've done something,
but you didn't.
- Why?
- He didn't ask for help.
- He's mute.
- His problem, not mine.
Look, you can't push people
out of the way...
Iooking for
your personal space...
and expect them
not to push back.
You kill hit men,
the Mob comes.
You stick a cop on the wall,
the police come.
These bums,
they're just innocent bystanders...
caught in the middle
of your storm.
- Whatever.
- You have a purpose, Spawn...
whether you want
to believe it or not.
The sooner you accept it,
the better off you'll be.
I love ice cream
- Hello, Billy.
- How do you know my name?
- I'm a fan.
- A what?
A fan.
- Been admiring your work for some time.
- Why?
I just love to see the children's faces
when you're with them.
You like kids.
Don't you, Billy?
Me too.
But I'm a clown.
I'm supposed to.
Hey. You wanna go
to a party?
- When?
- Later tonight, across town.
It'll be a real scream.
I promise.
The investigation has now officially
turned into a full-scale manhunt.
Very few details
have been released.
We have confirmation that at least one
officer has been killed at this point.
Also, the Senate has narrowly defeated
the federal relief taxation bills...
spearheaded
by Senator McMillan...
who received much opposition
from Republicans and Democrats.
McMillan, who's running for president...
has been unavailable
for comment.
Ready, Cyan?
Great catch, honey!
Good job.
Come on, honey.
Mommy has to go inside.
Yes, this is she.
Yes, I know Max Kivala.
Oh, God, no.
Not Max.
When? How?
Yes, he worked for me.
When did this happen?
No, you don't have a right to know
what we were working on.
His wife?
Yes, I know her.
Let her tell me that.
I don't trust--
Cyan? Cyan.
Cyan, where are you, honey?
Hellspawns begin to take sides
in their own minds.
Right, wrong.
Moral, immoral.
Good, evil.
None are ever sure
where they will fall.
What you doing with the heaters?
Lots of unfriendly traffic
flowing through here.
So, that's it now?
It's become an eye for an eye.
The government taught me how to fight,
how to kill. That's all I got left.
If you don't have the stomach for it,
get the hell outta here.
All units, a report of a child
kidnapping on the south side of Queens.
Female,
approximately four years old.
Answers to the name of Cyan.
Units are rolling.
- Cyan?
- You know her?
What are you gonna do?
You gonna help
get the kid back?
Attention, assholes.
This is the police.
Drop all weapons. Come out
with your hands over your heads.
Twitch, where the hell
have you been?
We got this cop-killing, kidnapping
bastard cornered. He ain't getting away.
Hold your fire!
Preacher, just let the boy go
and no one has to get hurt here.
Oh, yes, someone does.
He's armed!
Don't be a fool.
Calm down.
Don't do anything stupid.
Give me the grenade.
I promise you,
you and the boy will be protected.
Sure.
It's okay.
It's still got a pin.
Everything's fine.
Well, not quite.
Nobody move!
Do you have him?
Drop him.
Goddamn it.
Nice shot.
Holy shit.
- Holy shit!
- Oh, my God! Move! Move!
- Move!
- Go!
Finally, having chosen a side...
and released
of some inner guilt...
the warrior is now free
to pursue his personal mission...
unfettered.
God help those in his path.
Glad to be out of that skin.
Ooh, that was tight,
especially in the crotch.
Move from this spot
and you'll be sorry, girlie.
Hello, little girl.
Do you like tutti-frutti?
Is it real?
It's grade-A.
I got a reputation to keep.
Do you want the shit
or not?
I'll have to check
with the man first.
If you can't make a decision yourself,
don't worry about coming back.
Eat me, baldy.
You know the Mouth?
Goddamn it, this hurts.
Yeah, that's me.
A little girl was kidnapped yesterday.
Cyan Fitzgerald.
Who took her?
Okay, Mouth, speak.
Who took her?
Okay! Okay!
Twist!
Tony fucking Twist!
Christ. What the hell happened?
We're gone maybe five minutes.
Deke! Vinny!
Holy shit.
Jesus fucking Christ!
He has the girl.
Hey. Shit face.
He had a dirty mouth...
and so do you.
Come on, honey.
It's time to dance.
Get me Tony. Now!
Is that right?
Well, you tell the honorable senator
from Bumfuck...
I want to be able to count
on his endorsement...
or he can count on his drug addiction
making the front page...
of every major paper
in the country.
Y'all take care now.
Where the hell are we?
I said the Waldorf, not the waterfront.
What the hell is this?
Hey, goddamn it!
For God's sake, what now?
Something is amiss, Senator.
Something is not right with the world.
Do you know
what that might be?
My heart can't take much more
of this cloak-and-dagger bullshit.
Someone has sent
your prodigal son...
on a decidedly untimely rampage.
My son?
Little bastard Billy.
He's fucking up my plans.
What are you saying?
Did you send Billy
after Wanda Blake's child?
Absolutely not.
- All right.
- What happened?
How did he get her?
If it wasn't me,
then who--
There are forces at work here,
Chapel...
shadow players who have decided
to remain nameless for the time being.
Someone's playing your game.
We'll see.
I'll get your lost weapons
and hunt down this soldier killer.
Just remember,
the clock's ticking.
Don't worry.
This won't take long.
Look, let's run it down again.
We've been through this
already.
- What are you doing to find Cyan?
- Humor me, please, Mr. Fitzgerald.
I need to make sure
nothing's missed.
- What about gambling debts?
- None.
Affairs?
A jealous lover?
Somebody you screwed in a business deal?
Friends? Ex-partners?
Easy. We're just trying
to get at the truth.
What about your jobs?
You work for the government.
Your wife is an attorney.
Okay, what about that?
Oh, God.
The Watson case.
My case.
They took her.
They killed Max and took her.
My baby. It's all my fault.
If anything happens--
Find Cyan, Detective.
Find out who took
our little girl.
Get the plane ready.
I gotta get outta town.
The boys are on their way,
and now Wynn will be on my ass...
'cause you lost the kid!
Shut up, goddamn it!
Get it done!
I warned you,
you fat piece of shit.
- Let me explain!
- Where's the little girl?
- I'm trying to tell you!
- Where is she?
Somebody took her from us!
- Address?
- I don't know!
Some freak in an ice cream truck!
Somebody must've tipped him off!
Please don't hurt me!
I'm telling you the truth!
I swear on my mother's life!
I swear I didn't know.
Not at first anyway.
He's my flesh and blood.
He's done bad things. Who hasn't?
God forgive me, I had to protect him.
It required some serious arm-twisting.
I hate these friggin' reports.
You oughta be doing this shit,
Twitch.
I hate typing up
these five-fives.
If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
It's not like I had a choice.
Made a few calls--
Aw, shit. Goddamn it.
- It's not that big a deal.
- Sir, I've got it.
The alley murders. Stevens.
The whole ball of wax.
-Don't keep me in suspense. Spit it out.
-Extortion.
Stevens recorded a cellular phone call
between an unknown individual...
and Senator Scott McMillan.
- McMillan?
- Yes, sir.
McMillan, as it turns out,
has an illegitimate son...
who happens to enjoy
dismembering little children.
Oh, man. McMillan's been
covering for this sick bastard.
Way ahead of me, as always.
Stevens planned to sell his story
to the Washington Post.
An attempt to blackmail McMillan
obviously failed...
putting Stevens' life in danger.
Stevens goes underground long enough to
benefit from the media merry-go-round.
McMillan finds him, gets some wise guys
to kill him along with the reporters.
In a nutshell, sir.
So our preacher wasn't
the child killer after all.
No, sir, he wasn't.
So you were right. So what?
You got a name on this pus bag?
Yes, sir.
His name is Billy Kincaid.
Great work, Twitch.
Thank you, sir.
- Your praise makes it all worthwhile.
- Yeah, whatever.
But now it's time to get busy
with what I'm good at.
I want every officer
briefed on this thing pronto.
This guy's ass is gonna be mine,
dead or alive. You got me?
Time to have that ice cream.
Such a pretty one.
Do you like the music?
I like the music very much.
Would you like to dance?
Just you and me.
But first...
I scream, you scream
We all scream for ice cream
Chocolate pecan
and strawberry whirls.
Very good.
Move away from the child.
Now.
Do this right,
and no one gets hurt.
Now God be with you, gentlemen,
and kick ass. Out.
You're on fire!
Son of a bitch!
Come on, damn it!
Let's move!
All units,
suspect is headed south on Van Buren.
Vehicle is
a white panel truck.
Ice cream design
on both sides.
Suspect considered armed
and extremely dangerous.
I want this fucking psycho
stopped.
They think they've got the guy.
Come on. Come on, people!
Let's roll!
- What's going on? ls it my daughter?
- Maybe.
Units are in pursuit
of a potential suspect.
- Oh, my God.
- What about Cyan?
- We don't know yet.
- We're going with you.
And so he grabs the girl--
I can't take this.
He grabs her, and then--
And the house blows up!
Who's that on top of the truck?
An accomplice?
No idea, sir.
If he's in the way, he's history.
Am I clear?
Crystal clear, sir.
It's not even his kid!
Come here, you fat bastard!
This is bullshit! I want a blockade
all around this piss hole!
Nobody in or out.
And for Christ's sake,
let's get it right this time.
Let her go.
For some warriors...
the answer is crystallized
in an instant.
Their instincts point them
only one way.
The truth becomes undeniable...
and apocalyptic.
Cyan!
This is all coming together
so nicely.
Remember, there's no room for pussies
in Satan's army.
You don't belong here.
Help, Daddy!
Kill him.
Kill him!
What the fuck?
Hey, you assholes.
That wasn't in the goddamn script.
You don't realize what's at stake here.
Get with the fucking program.
Get up,
you worthless sack of shit.
I want my ice cream.
Sorry, asshole.
We're all out of ice cream.
Good help
is so goddamn hard to find.
He made a fucking deal.
The boss won't be happy
when he hears about this.
You really fucked yourself
this time.
This ain't over, Spawn.
You made a fucking deal.
I want my mommy.
You--
You go to your mommy now.
She'll take care of you.
You're gonna be
all right now.
Thank you.
Look.
There's the little girl.
Hold your fire.
It's the kid.
You all right, honey?
I want my mommy.
Cyan.
Mommy!
Thank you.
Thank you, God.
Daddy.
Honey...
where'd you get this?
He gave it to me, Mommy.
Who, sweetheart?
The sad man.
For all Hellspawns...
a time comes
when the stage is set.
All sides have been chosen.
The world and its rules
have been defined...
and the real war,
in all its apocalyptic horror...
is finally ready to begin.