The name Olivette means little to you.
A high-ranking member of the Grand Coven,
the one who led the charge against me.
She's just come back to the states.
Now would be an excellent time to strike
and take out a miserable, old witch
who's been standing in my way for centuries.
Mother, it's not happening. What?
Something's come up. Olivette can wait.
My peace is helping people. Working cases.
That's all I want to do.
Is this about the Mark?
I'm done trying to find a cure, Sammy.
The answer is not out there. It's with me.
So, I'm gonna fight it till I can't fight it anymore.
What are you doing?
What's it look like? I'm leaving.
Another petty manipulation.
What do you want from me?
Why it breaks my heart
to see what a colossal numb nut you've become?
Sad, bored, wee boy on the throne
who'll flop ass-up the second those Winchesters ...
hunters who'd as soon see you dead as have you to tea ...
ask you to.
You're their bitch.
I detest all my sins because of thy just punishment
but most of all because they offend thee, my God,
who art all good and deserving of all my love.
I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace,
to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin.
Amen.
I absolve you of your sins
in the name of the father and of the son and of the holy spirit.
Amen.
Go in peace, Terry.
See you Sunday.
That you will, father.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
Majesty.
I beg you to speak with her.
What now?
Your mother remains...
vexed with your highness
and vents her frustration by abusing the court.
No one dares retaliate, of course,
and, yes, one expects to suffer in hell,
but I fear I've reached my limit.
To wit...
I mean, seriously.
Mother!
Yes, your royal highness?
You care to comment?
Magnificent work by an astonishing talent.
Mm, brava!
I always said you were two-faced.
Look, mommy, enough.
I know you're annoyed with me.
Annoyed? No, Fergus.
I'm devastated, betrayed
And brokenhearted.
Because I wouldn't go begging to a bunch of witches
on your behalf?
The Grand Coven is the supreme command of all witchcraft.
Without their sanction, I'm forbidden to practice!
Forgive me. I hadn't noticed you'd stopped.
That? Parlor trick.
I'm capable of greatness.
Given free reign, I'd be unstoppable.
I am this close
to throwing you back into that dungeon.
Of course. Why not?
Why do anything but cause me more pain?
Bad enough that you wouldn't intervene
with Olivette and the coven,
but you went directly against my wishes,
siding with those Winchesters,
refusing to kill them,
then delivering the First Blade into their hands,
which you know could slaughter us all.
You prefer them to your own flesh and blood.
It's a bitter pill, Fergus,
after all I've done for you.
And what exactly would that be?
I gave you life, Fergus.
Without me, Sunshine,
you wouldn't exist.
Abite!
All right, so, I'm thinking, uh, curse, maybe.
Sam, a little help here, okay?
I'm trying to stay busy here.
You know, eye on the ball, not on the Mark.
And this a case until we know it's not.
Sure. No, yeah, you're right.
Three suicides, two weeks.
They're not just suicides.
They gutted themselves.
And they took their sweet time doing it.
I mean, that had to be incredibly painful.
I can't seem to find any link between the vics, either.
Yeah, probably a curse, I bet.
And this man, he was handsome?
Exquisite.
He took my breath away.
But we are told not to speak so much
of the time before we joined the Order.
We all found our way to this life for a reason.
Was he yours?
His name was Piero, an incredible artist.
Sometimes, I would pose for him.
And he called me his muse.
As you can imagine,
we spent hours, days with each other.
I felt so free with him.
I...
had never been close with a man before that.
So... what happened?
I...
I can't right now.
It's okay.
Really.
We're a lot alike, you know?
I think we're supposed to enter the convent
for some... higher purpose,
but many of us chose this
because of the things that...
overwhelmed us.
All right, so, what do we got?
Terry Sloane, ordinary guy, not a lot of friends,
but no known enemies, no relation to the other vics.
Well, not necessarily.
He's Catholic, and so are the other two.
Dean, this is Massachusetts.
There are a lot of Catholics in Massachusetts.
You think this is a case?
Who kills himself with a candlestick, all right?
There's about a billion better ways.
Yeah, but he did kill himself.
All right, so, it was not a witch.
There was nothing hexy found on him.
Uh, possession? Could have been a demon?
Yeah, but the point of a demon possessing a living thing
is to, you know, possess a living thing.
Okay, Agent, why don't you get that cellphone
back to the Bureau's crime lab,
get it hacked like you told those guys,
and, uh, we'll figure out what's going on with Terry Sloane.
Probably nude selfies.
I'm feeling good about this.
Amen.
Hi, sweetie.
You need to come to bed, Frank.
You got to be exhausted
from all those night hours you've been putting in.
Yep, yep.
The old job's gotten pretty demanding, all right.
Liar.
Aah!
Oh, my God. No! No!
Frank!
I just can't believe
Lisa McCarthy would murder her husband.
Right, well, his blood was all over her body.
And her prints were all over
the pair of scissors that butchered him.
That's terrible. Yeah.
Now, we also have some questions.
Um, for starters, she has no memory of it.
The last thing she remembers is being here.
Frank had gone to confession.
So, if he happened to say anything in the confession
about, you know, maybe problems with the wife...
I'm sorry. The nature of confession is confidential.
Ah.
Father, all of the victims attended your church.
Um, could you at least tell us
if they had recently been to confession?
Yes.
These men were fairly regular,
but then, so are the majority of the folks here.
Father? Agents,
sister Mathias is our director of social services.
I've asked her to show you around and answer any questions.
Sure.
Sister.
Agent...?
Allman.
And this is Agent Betts.
Sister, you're aware of the recent string of deaths, right?
Yes, a terrible tragedy.
But I'm confused as to why you're here.
These were all suicides, weren't they?
Well, possibly not.
Murders?
Well, the actual method of killing was all identical.
Ah, the M.O.
Yes, indeed. The M.O.
I'm gonna go, uh have a look around.
Uh, excuse me, sister.
Agent Betts, uh, Allman.
Okay.
Uh, sister, d-did you notice, um, any change in the ...
in the McCarthys' lives?
You know, fighting, drinking, cheating?
You know, the usual.
The usual. A bit cynical, Agent?
Well, you know, scissors to the gut
really, uh, bring out the Grinch in me.
So...
Oh...
Now, Lisa McCarthy
said that they were very devoted to each other.
Was that true?
That always appeared to be the case.
But...?
We're looking for a motive, aren't we?
We are.
An earlier victim's cellphone showed some angry texts
between he and his girlfriend
'cause he had been fooling around.
There were rumors.
So, Frank cheated on Lisa. So, she lied to me.
Oh, she didn't know.
My sources are excellent.
And you didn't hear it from me.
I got a question.
How does someone, uh, like you
end up, you know...?
Cloistered away from the world?
Are you making fun of me, Agent Allman?
No. No, no. I, uh...
I guess I'm just wondering how somebody quits one life
for something completely different
and ... and then believe in it so much.
Well
In my case, I felt I had no choice.
My life had become painful.
There was hopelessness.
I felt I had to find
something larger than myself to focus on.
A kind of mission, I guess.
You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure.
Mm, don't be.
Sister. I got a question.
I'm sure it's a different question.
Is there a cemetery nearby?
You could say that.
The entire church is built over burial crypts.
Oh.
Have you ever, uh, heard or ... or felt
anything strange or unusual?
Unusual how?
Like, uh, spots in the building that suddenly get cold
or, uh ... or maybe you feel like you're not ...
not quite alone?
Rattling chains and teacups that fly across the room?
Sister, are you making fun of me?
Really?
The FBI believes in ghosts?
I'm afraid I don't.
If you'll excuse me, agents, I have to get back to work.
Mm.
Tell me you didn't think that nun was hot.
I think she had a little thing for me, too.
Dean, she was married to Jesus.
All right, so,
Frank cheated on his wife, Lisa, all right?
You know, the whole theme of this case
seems to be about guys doing their women wrong.
Notice that?
Yeah, but Lisa McCarthy was pretty convincing
that she had no idea whatsoever she had killed her husband.
Oh, hot nun said that Lisa had no idea he was cheating on her.
So, maybe she was controlled by someone who did.
Again, nothing witchy.
Ghost? Hard to say.
I mean, there's EMF in the church, but it's built on a burial ground.
You know that all the victims recently went to confession?
So you think Father Delaney's involved?
Or maybe something surrounding the confessional.
Sammy, how long has it been since my last confession?
You've never been to confession.
Well, that's too long.
You summoned...
Your royal highness?
Mother.
Oh, he remembers!
What can I do for you?
It's what I can do for you.
I've been thinking just how wretched it would be
if my own raison d'? tre ...
wreaking havoc and pain on earth ...
were taken from me.
I see how stifled you must feel, and I sympathize.
Does this mean that you'll go to the Grand Coven on my behalf?
Even better.
I've brought the coven to you.
I believe you know Olivette,
high priestess of the Grand Coven.
Speechless with joy?
You utter bitch!
Bottom-feeder!
Ah, the storm before the storm.
As you can see, the iron chains render her powerless,
so you can plead your case, exact your revenge,
whatever it is that puts a spring back in your step.
You kids have fun now.
I see your time as outcast
has led you from vile to loathsome.
I doubt this strategy of insults
will get you out of this pickle.
Mm, no.
I do not grovel before she who lay with a non-magic
and hatched his spawn.
My personal life was none of your business.
I could have been your superstar.
Oh, please!
When we initiated your thankless ass into the coven,
we did overlook your private lapses because of your talent.
We thought you'd outgrow your reckless, selfish ways,
but, oh, no, they just grew out of control.
And now look at you, consorting with demons.
Quite the speech
Considering you're in my son's palace.
What?
You see, my son, the spawn you speak of,
is now the King of Hell.
Tall Cinderella story, I'd say.
Oh, aye.
And now you, dearest Olivette,
are prisoner of the baddest of the bad
and his devoted mummy.
It was the sadness in your eyes.
I saw myself there.
Was it Piero?
Is he the reason you're here?
There is not much difference between madness and devotion.
I was obsessed with him.
We shared each other's secrets.
We were on the same road.
I suddenly realized
how deeply in love with Piero I had fallen.
He said it was only after I posed for him
that his work took on real power, real expression.
The painting I had posed for was the beginning of his career.
In the end, it was his masterpiece.
Sweet Jesus, nothing in my love life
was ever so magical.
Magic can be ruinous,
especially if the trick is on you.
I finally confessed my heart to Piero.
I felt we could read each other's thoughts,
but I said the words inside out loud ...
"I love you."
I waited, dying inside.
And then...
He explained he had feelings for me...
But not of the same sort.
He loved another?
Indeed.
His art.
It was everything to him.
Insomuch that I affected it, he cared for me,
but beyond that, he could offer me nothing but friendship.
I fell into such despair.
I could not eat nor sleep
until my family could stand no more.
And that's when you entered the convent.
It's as if I'd died.
My father sent me there
to escape my sorrow and forget Piero.
His servants dragged me from home one night.
All these things from my father's estate ...
I never saw them again after that night.
Everything that was mine was lost to me...
except my journal.
Things I could say to no one,
things no one wanted to hear.
Loneliness is...
Yes.
It is.
Well, I can't say I'm surprised.
You always were petulant
and reckless and overrated.
Banishment was too good for you.
Ohh!
You were always so envious of my skills,
you fool.
The only threat I ever posed to the coven
was that I was smarter, more gifted than you!
More blindly ambitious!
Why not?
You nits were content to live in the shadows,
dicking around with black cats and broomsticks
instead of greatness.
Ohh!
What was that one for?
Emphasis.
I will get what I want from you.
No, you won't.
Because what you are looking for no longer exists.
The coven is a pale relic of its past power,
weakened by witch hunts, burning at the stake,
endless persecution, and all of it was engineered by them.
Them?
Oh.
Not as quick as I'd have thought.
All right!
It's a rabid group of sanctimonious do-gooders
dedicated to our downfall.
They had equal magic?
Worse ...
public relations.
They whipped the church and public into a panic.
Our best were killed or driven underground.
They then plundered our spells and secrets
and shipped them to hidden bunkers all around the world.
It appears you hate them more than you do me.
They tried to destroy our world!
Hoarding unbelievable power for their own amusement.
Smug, self-righteous bastards.
The Men of Letters.
Yes?
Hiya, father.
Pardon me?
Pardon you? I thought it was the other way around.
Just...
It's...
So, uh, I'm here to ... here to clean house.
I need to get some things off my chest.
Oh. All right.
Continue.
Um...
It's the women, father.
Where do I begin?
"Bless me, father, for I have sinned," is usual.
Right. Good. Yeah.
So, that, and, um...
So, the women.
Uh, and this is not something that I'm proud of,
but I let them think
that we have more of a future than we do, you know?
Ah, Gina.
Gina?
Well, now, don't get me wrong.
I mean, she was ... it was good times.
I mean, you know how it is ... the sex, the lasagna ...
but I was not honest with her.
And sometimes, I was seeing
two, maybe three girls at the same time,
sometimes in the same day.
You get the picture.
And it wasn't just Gina. It was endless.
It's making me sick.
And you wish to be forgiven, my son?
I do. I need to clean up my act.
As penance, you shall say five "hail Mary's, two "our father's,
and reflect on your transgression.
And then, that's it? Then I'm good to go?
One would hope some... inner exploration might occur.
The prayers are just the beginning
to some serious soul-searching.
Hmm.
Is there anything else on your mind, Agent Allman?
What if I said I...
I didn't want to die... yet,
you know, that I wasn't ready?
Are you expecting to?
Always.
You know, the life I live, the work I do...
I pretty much just figured
that that was all there was to me, you know?
Tear around and jam the key in the ignition
and haul ass until I ran out of gas.
I guess I just thought sooner or later,
I'd go out the same way that I live ...
pedal to the metal, and that would be it.
But now?
Now, um...
Recent... events, uh...
make me think I might be closer to that
than I really thought.
And... I don't know.
I mean, you know, there's ... there's things,
there's... people, feelings
that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before,
or maybe even for the first time.
Go a little deeper, perhaps, than with Gina.
Yeah.
Yeah, I'm just starting to think that...
maybe there's more to it all than I thought.
Learning there's more to the universe
than your tiny world can be a frightening discovery.
Do you truly believe in God, Agent?
Because that can be a comfort.
I believe there is a God.
But I am not sure he still believes in us.
So, you think you had an eavesdropper in there?
Hope so.
You better watch your back.
If we're right, jerks like you
are just what our ghost is looking for.
Isabella?
Are you here?
"Obscuri funesti dies..."
I found no peace in the convent,
and my sorrow turned to rage.
What was once love for Piero had become hatred.
One night, I snuck out a window and made my way to his studio.
I'm not sure why I went.
To confront him?
To ruin the painting
and destroy his love the way he destroyed mine?
There they were.
Isabella!
I never mentioned her to you because it didn't occur to me
she was connected with the murders.
Ever since I've been here,
I've come across restless spirits of all sorts.
They're all kind of... sad, harmless.
And eventually, the poor things go to their final rest.
Wait a second. S-so, you're just comfortable around ghosts?
As a spiritual person,
I've accepted many planes of existence.
And as I said, they've all been harmless.
Isabella was my friend.
We had a lot in common,
including...
painful love lives.
I wanted to protect her.
You said she showed up about three weeks ago
when stuff from her home arrived?
Yes, part of a shipment from a monastery in Tivoli.
Her family's treasures found their way to the church,
as with many of the great houses of Europe.
You get that she got here
just before the murders started happening?
I finally realized that.
And then I heard the two of you,
and it made me wonder.
That's when I read her journal.
It was given to her father right after her death.
Vengeful spirit, just like we thought.
Yeah, but 16th-century Florence.
She's probably buried in Florence.
I assume.
The ... the journal ended right after her trial.
Piero's death was so horrific, she was convicted of witchcraft.
They sentenced her to burn at the stake.
Okay, well, if she burned, then so would her bones.
Yeah, but, Dean, something here
is the tether that ties her to this place.
It's probably the journal, where she wrote about her life.
Why don't see if we can't find Isabella, try to slow her down.
Sam, burn all this stuff.
Her... journal?
Is that necessary?
Believe me, it's necessary.
Well, I don't know, Dean.
I mean, there might be more in here.
Sam, burn it.
Let's go.
I'm telling you I don't know any more.
You're lying, just as you lied about me all these years.
You're afraid I'll recover all the stolen potions and spells
and become more powerful than you.
Oh, poor, poor Rowena.
Always the victim of one conspiracy or another.
You're so consumed with your rise to power,
you can't see the truth!
I see the truth, and it's pathetic.
You let these Men of Letters
pillage the greatest trove of magical secrets in the world
and did nothing.
Ow!
We were weakened.
The plunder was dispersed
to bunkers all around the world.
Those bunkers are powerfully warded.
There was nothing we could do to stop them.
How do I find the Men of Letters?
I don't even know if they exist anymore.
I've heard that the American chapter
was extinguished in the 1950s,
but apparently, two of its members survive ...
the hunters, Sam and Dean Winchester.
The Winchesters?
Again with the Winchesters.
Perpetually, the Winchesters.
Olivette, dear...
pleasant though this little chat has been,
I feel it's come...
to a close.
What you're telling me
is that the coven is no longer all powerful and, therefore,
that you are no longer useful.
You'd better be careful, Rowena.
There's a line that cannot be crossed.
Witch-on-witch murder is anathema to the community.
The community?
Who needs them?
To think of all the years I've lived in fear
for nothing.
You ruined my life, Olivette,
and you shall pay with yours.
Rowena, please, you don't want to do this.
Please, Rowena, don't do this.
Rowena, please.
Please stop.
Cruciatus letumque
crucianti!
Halt!
I haven't thought this through.
Why should I kill you,
give you an easy way out
When there are far better options?
Fatum tuum
est itersine no!
Termino ad... No! No!
Rowena!
Please! Nulum!
No!
Oh, I'm a genius.
I don't see how she could murder these people
if she was tethered to the church.
She could possess a person inside the church, ride out,
and get yanked back after the kill, so...
And can ghosts be shot?
This is rock salt.
If we spot her, it'll slow her down.
And as the days passed, my love for Piero deepened,
as did his belief in my powers as his muse.
He said he wanted something from me,
something he could barely give voice to.
He thought the effect I had on his work was profound.
He had never painted so well before.
He asked if he might have a bit of my blood
to mix into the pigment.
Piero was so afraid he would hurt me.
I told him, on the contrary, it was my great joy to do this.
But it wasn't enough.
Ohh!
I told Piero to grind the flesh, blood, and bone
into the pigment.
I had completely become one with the painting
and with Piero. "and with Piero"
She got to father Delaney. She's around here somewhere.
We got to get you out of here. Come on!
The priest had to die.
He made it his business to forgive you pigs ...
forgive you, when what you do is unforgivable.
Sam, burn the journal!
Sister! Don't let them!
You are my friend.
You're ... ooh, you're trucking.
Is that her?
Poetic justice, if you ask me.
For hundreds of years, those hags made me grovel,
every attempt to please them futile.
High time someone else ran in circles, eh?
Nice touch.
Something I might have thought of myself.
You see?
We're not so very different.
What is it that you want?
Well, Fergus, since you asked,
these friends of yours ... the Winchesters ...
I hear they are, oh, what do you call it, um,
Men of Letters?
Possibly.
I see. Well, about that ...
Listen, we've been through this.
My relationship with the Winchesters is my business.
I'll handle them. I'm not killing them.
All right, deary.
Of course.
Whatever you say.
Who mixes their blood and bones into paint?
No woman's ever done that for me.
Is this you thanking me
for not doing what you told me to do?
You know, if you would have burned the journal,
then we wouldn't know how to kill it, would we?
Yeah, you're welcome.
You know...
You were in that confessional a long time.
Look, man, I'm just saying,
I'm your brother, Dean.
If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody,
you got somebody right here next to you.
Okay.
I heard what sister Mathias was saying about, you know,
hiding pain by taking on a mission,
and I-I know that's what you're doing a little bit.
And it's okay.
I mean, it's fine. I get it. I've done it before, too.
But...
I don't buy for one second
that the Mark is a terminal diagnosis,
so don't go making peace with that idea.
There has to be a way.
There will be a way, and we will find it.
That's what we do.
So, believe that.
Okay, Sammy.
You want to...
Uh, try that again like you mean it?
Okay.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man