WEBVTT
Kind: captions
Language: en

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The lights go out on Maple street, as a young
woman takes stock of her marriage and the

00:00:04.580 --> 00:00:06.940
man she once thought she knew.

00:00:06.940 --> 00:00:10.770
She sits at the kitchen counter, absently
stirring a cup of tea that went cold hours

00:00:10.770 --> 00:00:14.800
ago, but she just can't bring herself to stand
and heat it back up.

00:00:14.800 --> 00:00:19.200
She glances at the baby monitor sitting next
to her, grabs it, and holds it to her ear.

00:00:19.200 --> 00:00:21.019
Steady, peaceful breathing.

00:00:21.019 --> 00:00:22.289
The baby is fine.

00:00:22.289 --> 00:00:24.420
No one needs a thing from her right now.

00:00:24.420 --> 00:00:28.519
She stares at the seat across from her, where
her husband sits every morning, sharing coffee

00:00:28.519 --> 00:00:31.279
and breakfast before they start the day.

00:00:31.279 --> 00:00:33.500
She glances at the clock: 8 PM.

00:00:33.500 --> 00:00:34.670
He'll be home soon.

00:00:34.670 --> 00:00:40.360
She'll have to face him, have to find a way
to look him in the eye, force a smile.

00:00:40.360 --> 00:00:44.730
Pretend she doesn't know that he's getting
home two hours late, from who knows where.

00:00:44.730 --> 00:00:47.199
The thought turns her stomach.

00:00:47.199 --> 00:00:49.060
It wasn't always like this.

00:00:49.060 --> 00:00:52.960
Their marriage wasn't always a tense charade,
their home a haunted house.

00:00:52.960 --> 00:00:57.250
He was sweet that first year, he'd buy her
flowers and take her out to dinner, he'd kiss

00:00:57.250 --> 00:00:59.730
her in the morning before they'd even brushed
their teeth.

00:00:59.730 --> 00:01:02.510
He wouldn't come home smelling like his secretary's
perfume.

00:01:02.510 --> 00:01:05.430
But ever since the baby, something's been
different.

00:01:05.430 --> 00:01:08.900
The light behind his eyes has gone dim.

00:01:08.900 --> 00:01:13.020
He won't help with late-night feedings, won't
change diapers, most of the time, he acts

00:01:13.020 --> 00:01:15.140
as if the baby doesn't exist.

00:01:15.140 --> 00:01:16.759
His own son.

00:01:16.759 --> 00:01:21.210
He just comes home, stares vacantly at the
TV, and expects her to handle everything without

00:01:21.210 --> 00:01:23.240
so much as a single complaint.

00:01:23.240 --> 00:01:26.900
She hasn't slept in weeks, she hasn't been
down to her art studio in the basement in

00:01:26.900 --> 00:01:27.900
months.

00:01:27.900 --> 00:01:31.370
Then, a sound shakes her from her thoughts.

00:01:31.370 --> 00:01:35.720
She hears the unmistakable rumble of a car
pulling into the driveway, and fixes a stiff

00:01:35.720 --> 00:01:38.380
smile on her face.

00:01:38.380 --> 00:01:41.820
Maybe she'll leave him, maybe tonight she'll
work up the courage to say those words that

00:01:41.820 --> 00:01:45.250
will change everything: "I want a divorce."

00:01:45.250 --> 00:01:49.400
The baby barely has a father now, what difference
would it really make?

00:01:49.400 --> 00:01:53.189
The woman's husband stumbles through the door,
lipstick on his collar and the smell of whiskey

00:01:53.189 --> 00:01:54.420
on his breath.

00:01:54.420 --> 00:01:58.479
He greets her with a kiss on the cheek, more
out of obligation than anything else, and

00:01:58.479 --> 00:02:01.369
grabs himself a can of soda from the fridge.

00:02:01.369 --> 00:02:06.380
She offers him some stew from the stovetop,
he brushes her off, saying "I already ate."

00:02:06.380 --> 00:02:11.230
She doesn't bother asking when or how, when
he supposedly came straight home from work.

00:02:11.230 --> 00:02:13.340
There's no point, she knows he'll only lie.

00:02:13.340 --> 00:02:15.860
"Do you want to say goodnight to the baby?"

00:02:15.860 --> 00:02:16.910
She asks.

00:02:16.910 --> 00:02:20.840
It's a test, as she watches his face for any
flicker of fatherly affection.

00:02:20.840 --> 00:02:23.610
"Isn't it asleep by now?"

00:02:23.610 --> 00:02:24.680
It.

00:02:24.680 --> 00:02:26.750
He calls their son "it."

00:02:26.750 --> 00:02:30.080
"He's sleeping, but you could still go up
and see him.

00:02:30.080 --> 00:02:31.080
If you're quiet."

00:02:31.080 --> 00:02:32.720
"I had a long day.

00:02:32.720 --> 00:02:33.720
I'm tired.

00:02:33.720 --> 00:02:35.069
I'll see it in the morning."

00:02:35.069 --> 00:02:36.590
She can't help herself.

00:02:36.590 --> 00:02:37.590
"Him."

00:02:37.590 --> 00:02:38.860
"What's that?"

00:02:38.860 --> 00:02:39.860
"Him.

00:02:39.860 --> 00:02:40.860
He's not a thing.

00:02:40.860 --> 00:02:42.269
He's our child."

00:02:42.269 --> 00:02:44.890
He sets the can on the coffee table with a
heavy clatter.

00:02:44.890 --> 00:02:48.890
"Do you have to nitpick every word that comes
out of my mouth?"

00:02:48.890 --> 00:02:50.420
She deflates at the outburst.

00:02:50.420 --> 00:02:51.420
"No."

00:02:51.420 --> 00:02:54.030
He sighs, shaking his head.

00:02:54.030 --> 00:02:55.290
"Don't look at me like that.

00:02:55.290 --> 00:02:58.690
I can't stand when you stare at me."

00:02:58.690 --> 00:03:00.660
She averts her eyes, looking down.

00:03:00.660 --> 00:03:01.660
"Fine.

00:03:01.660 --> 00:03:03.110
I'll go up and check on him.

00:03:03.110 --> 00:03:05.640
You enjoy your relaxation time."

00:03:05.640 --> 00:03:06.640
That's it.

00:03:06.640 --> 00:03:07.640
Tonight is the night.

00:03:07.640 --> 00:03:09.370
She's going to pack a bag tonight.

00:03:09.370 --> 00:03:12.659
She'll leave, and start a new life, just her
and her son.

00:03:12.659 --> 00:03:16.409
He won't even miss them when they're gone,
it'll be better for everyone this way.

00:03:16.409 --> 00:03:20.200
She'll just go upstairs, check the baby, and
wait for him to fall asleep.

00:03:20.200 --> 00:03:22.629
Then she'll just cut and run.

00:03:22.629 --> 00:03:26.810
It's not like he deserves a proper goodbye
from her, she can go away, go to her sister's

00:03:26.810 --> 00:03:27.840
place.

00:03:27.840 --> 00:03:31.640
As she fantasizes about leaving him, spending
peaceful days in a little country house with

00:03:31.640 --> 00:03:36.670
her son, and maybe a dog, she finds that the
baby has spit up all over his pajamas.

00:03:36.670 --> 00:03:40.840
She scoops him up into her arms to make sure
everything is okay otherwise, and he's fine,

00:03:40.840 --> 00:03:41.840
just a mess.

00:03:41.840 --> 00:03:44.930
As she holds him, he stirs awake and begins
to cry.

00:03:44.930 --> 00:03:48.500
"Oh sweetheart...I'll need to change you,
and give you a bath.

00:03:48.500 --> 00:03:50.560
Shh, shh, it's okay.

00:03:50.560 --> 00:03:51.590
You're alright."

00:03:51.590 --> 00:03:52.620
"What's wrong?"

00:03:52.620 --> 00:03:55.400
Her husband's voice comes from the doorway,
startling her.

00:03:55.400 --> 00:03:57.239
"It doesn't concern you."

00:03:57.239 --> 00:04:00.010
She can't help herself, her resentment creeps
into her voice.

00:04:00.010 --> 00:04:01.010
"He just needs a bath."

00:04:01.010 --> 00:04:04.209
"What, you think I can't bathe my own son?"

00:04:04.209 --> 00:04:05.209
He scoffs.

00:04:05.209 --> 00:04:06.209
"That's it?"

00:04:06.209 --> 00:04:08.340
"Well, you haven't done it yet.

00:04:08.340 --> 00:04:09.340
So."

00:04:09.340 --> 00:04:12.240
When she turns to look at her husband, there
are tears in his eyes.

00:04:12.240 --> 00:04:14.760
"I'll do it now."

00:04:14.760 --> 00:04:20.220
Something in his voice is so sincere, she
falters in her determination for a moment.

00:04:20.220 --> 00:04:21.720
Maybe he'll really try.

00:04:21.720 --> 00:04:24.080
Maybe things will go back to how they used
to be.

00:04:24.080 --> 00:04:26.470
And she really, really needs a rest.

00:04:26.470 --> 00:04:31.320
So, she hands the baby over to him, and sits
down in the soft chair in the corner of the

00:04:31.320 --> 00:04:32.320
nursery.

00:04:32.320 --> 00:04:36.550
Before too long, the exhaustion overcomes
her and she nods off.

00:04:36.550 --> 00:04:40.430
In her sleep, she can't see her husband leaving
the bathroom to go downstairs and catch the

00:04:40.430 --> 00:04:45.410
last twenty minutes of the Dodgers game, leaving
the baby alone in the tub.

00:04:45.410 --> 00:04:47.590
When she stirs awake, the crib is still empty.

00:04:47.590 --> 00:04:51.970
She can still hear the water running, and
she knows.

00:04:51.970 --> 00:04:54.710
She just knows what has happened.

00:04:54.710 --> 00:04:56.240
What she let happen.

00:04:56.240 --> 00:04:58.150
No, what he did.

00:04:58.150 --> 00:05:04.840
A glance into the bathroom confirms her suspicions,
and with a primal scream of pain, rage, and

00:05:04.840 --> 00:05:09.250
heartbreak, she tears down the stairs to confront
the murderer himself.

00:05:09.250 --> 00:05:13.260
She finds him asleep on the couch, and takes
a moment to catch her breath, to wipe the

00:05:13.260 --> 00:05:14.490
tears from her eyes.

00:05:14.490 --> 00:05:16.330
Did he do it by accident?

00:05:16.330 --> 00:05:21.420
Or on purpose, to punish her, to free himself
from their marriage once and for all, to break

00:05:21.420 --> 00:05:23.010
her heart beyond repair?

00:05:23.010 --> 00:05:25.300
It doesn't matter, in the end.

00:05:25.300 --> 00:05:29.110
What's done is done, whether he meant it or
not.

00:05:29.110 --> 00:05:30.919
But what can she do?

00:05:30.919 --> 00:05:32.210
What could ever make this right?

00:05:32.210 --> 00:05:36.610
She wants to scream, to set the house on fire,
to tear him to shreds.

00:05:36.610 --> 00:05:42.780
Then, she spots it: the baseball bat leaned
against the wall by the door, in case of an

00:05:42.780 --> 00:05:43.780
intruder.

00:05:43.780 --> 00:05:47.760
She picks it up, feeling the weight of the
wood in her hands, the heft of it.

00:05:47.760 --> 00:05:52.110
Swung hard enough, with real intent behind
it, it could really do some damage.

00:05:52.110 --> 00:06:00.520
Slowly, thoughtfully, she walks back toward
the couch, raises the bat, and swings.

00:06:00.520 --> 00:06:04.680
It only takes one good hit to get the job
done, but she swings the bat a few more times

00:06:04.680 --> 00:06:11.460
anyway as something inside of her bends and
bends and breaks, until the tears stop falling,

00:06:11.460 --> 00:06:15.960
until her vision comes back, and everything
stops looking like a wash of red.

00:06:15.960 --> 00:06:20.180
He doesn't even scream, never wakes from his
stupor to see the look on his wife's face

00:06:20.180 --> 00:06:22.000
when she gets her revenge.

00:06:22.000 --> 00:06:24.539
He's just gone.

00:06:24.539 --> 00:06:28.940
She wipes the red from her eyes, and lets
the bloodied bat drop to the floor.

00:06:28.940 --> 00:06:34.740
She started the day as a wife, as a mother,
but now she's ending it as a killer.

00:06:34.740 --> 00:06:36.770
He deserved it, she tells herself.

00:06:36.770 --> 00:06:41.210
He took her baby from her, so she got him
back.

00:06:41.210 --> 00:06:42.910
But why doesn't she feel any relief?

00:06:42.910 --> 00:06:47.000
Why does she still feel the gnawing grief
in the pit of her stomach, feel the darkness

00:06:47.000 --> 00:06:49.070
clawing at her heart?

00:06:49.070 --> 00:06:52.560
First thing's first, she needs to get him
out of the living room, out of sight of prying

00:06:52.560 --> 00:06:54.470
eyes and nosy neighbors.

00:06:54.470 --> 00:06:57.590
She could try to bury him, but where?

00:06:57.590 --> 00:07:01.650
The yard isn't exactly private, and she's
not sure how much she could even dig up before

00:07:01.650 --> 00:07:02.650
sunrise.

00:07:02.650 --> 00:07:04.710
No, that won't do.

00:07:04.710 --> 00:07:08.850
Then the idea hits her, and she grabs him
by the arms and begins dragging the lifeless

00:07:08.850 --> 00:07:13.099
body of the man she once loved toward the
basement stairs.

00:07:13.099 --> 00:07:17.290
He's heavy, much heavier than she expected,
but she supposed they called it "dead weight"

00:07:17.290 --> 00:07:18.610
for a reason.

00:07:18.610 --> 00:07:22.150
She grunts and struggles as she drags him
down the stairs, wincing as his head bumps

00:07:22.150 --> 00:07:26.949
against the steps before reminding herself-
he's not using it anymore.

00:07:26.949 --> 00:07:31.080
She surprises herself with a laugh, a dry
sound echoing in the empty basement.

00:07:31.080 --> 00:07:35.310
She drags him past the last stair, and he
lands on the floor with a thud, in the room

00:07:35.310 --> 00:07:39.080
that she converted into her home art studio
when they first bought the house, back when

00:07:39.080 --> 00:07:40.490
things were still good.

00:07:40.490 --> 00:07:44.599
Her eyes dart about the room, the half-finished
paintings, the wood carvings she abandoned

00:07:44.599 --> 00:07:50.629
when she got pregnant, the paints and long-dried-out
lumps of clay, the potter's wheel in the corner.

00:07:50.629 --> 00:07:55.419
Her eyes settle on a metal frame, large and
twisted into a vaguely human shape.

00:07:55.419 --> 00:07:59.600
She had crafted it years ago, intending to
cover it with concrete and paint it, but never

00:07:59.600 --> 00:08:01.090
got around to it.

00:08:01.090 --> 00:08:03.889
No, she had been forced to put it away.

00:08:03.889 --> 00:08:08.430
Her husband hadn't liked it, had thought it
was "creepy," and "odd," and didn't want her

00:08:08.430 --> 00:08:10.840
working with such heavy materials.

00:08:10.840 --> 00:08:12.880
Just another thing he took from her.

00:08:12.880 --> 00:08:15.050
Another dream he destroyed.

00:08:15.050 --> 00:08:18.690
It's just about his size, now that she takes
a look at it with him lying limply on the

00:08:18.690 --> 00:08:20.870
ground so close by.

00:08:20.870 --> 00:08:24.770
With a little bit of muscle, some determination,
he would fit right inside.

00:08:24.770 --> 00:08:29.690
And there are the tubs of cement, still sealed
tight and ready to mix, just as she left them.

00:08:29.690 --> 00:08:33.140
She could shove him into the frame, paint
him with layer on layer of cement, and it

00:08:33.140 --> 00:08:35.870
would be like he had disappeared in the night.

00:08:35.870 --> 00:08:38.120
A fitting coffin for the man, she thought.

00:08:38.120 --> 00:08:40.580
A perfect place to hide him, too.

00:08:40.580 --> 00:08:41.779
No one would ever know.

00:08:41.779 --> 00:08:45.790
No bones to dig up in the garden out back,
no smell of rot seeping out from beneath the

00:08:45.790 --> 00:08:47.290
floorboard.

00:08:47.290 --> 00:08:49.899
She smiled to herself, just a little bit.

00:08:49.899 --> 00:08:53.890
In death, her husband would help her finish
her greatest work.

00:08:53.890 --> 00:09:00.399
She didn't consider herself a wife or a mother,
not anymore, but she was still an artist.

00:09:00.399 --> 00:09:03.060
And he would be her art.

00:09:03.060 --> 00:09:06.980
As she mixes the cement, she hums a little
song to herself, beginning to feel something

00:09:06.980 --> 00:09:09.180
like peace.

00:09:09.180 --> 00:09:13.089
Everything is ruined, her life as she knew
it completely turned upside down, but she

00:09:13.089 --> 00:09:16.110
is here in the art studio, creating again.

00:09:16.110 --> 00:09:18.370
"Not a waste of time now, is it?"

00:09:18.370 --> 00:09:20.190
She remarks to her husband's body.

00:09:20.190 --> 00:09:21.360
He doesn't answer.

00:09:21.360 --> 00:09:22.360
Typical.

00:09:22.360 --> 00:09:24.279
"Why get an art degree, you said?

00:09:24.279 --> 00:09:26.200
Well, it prepared me for this, didn't it?

00:09:26.200 --> 00:09:28.350
I wonder what I'll do with you when you're
done.

00:09:28.350 --> 00:09:29.450
Maybe I'll keep you down here.

00:09:29.450 --> 00:09:30.680
But that seems like a waste.

00:09:30.680 --> 00:09:35.520
Maybe I'll get you displayed in a gallery,
let people buy tickets to take a look at you.

00:09:35.520 --> 00:09:36.580
You'll be my masterpiece.

00:09:36.580 --> 00:09:39.160
You'd hate that, wouldn't you?

00:09:39.160 --> 00:09:45.820
Me, thriving, creating, all without you there
to make snide comments and treat me like dirt."

00:09:45.820 --> 00:09:50.020
As she waits for the concrete to become usable,
she turns her attention back to the metal

00:09:50.020 --> 00:09:51.020
frame.

00:09:51.020 --> 00:09:54.029
Time to put her ex-husband in his place.

00:09:54.029 --> 00:09:57.250
She lifts him, and begins to wedge his body
into the metal structure.

00:09:57.250 --> 00:10:01.890
He is heavy, getting heavier all the time,
and left a trail of blood behind on the floor

00:10:01.890 --> 00:10:06.160
that she would have to clean up and bleach
later, but after several sweaty minutes, he

00:10:06.160 --> 00:10:07.600
is in place.

00:10:07.600 --> 00:10:10.700
He looks correct to her, sitting there in
the frame.

00:10:10.700 --> 00:10:16.000
Ready to become something new, something different,
something better than he ever was in life.

00:10:16.000 --> 00:10:19.810
The concrete is ready, and she begins to smooth
it over the body and metal frame, flesh and

00:10:19.810 --> 00:10:24.649
blood, and sweat and grit, layer upon layer
upon layer.

00:10:24.649 --> 00:10:29.800
Mix, smooth, wait, mix, smooth, wait.

00:10:29.800 --> 00:10:33.290
All the while she talks to him, weeps bitter
tears into the concrete.

00:10:33.290 --> 00:10:37.529
At one point, she pricks her finger, her blood
dripping into the mixture and becoming part

00:10:37.529 --> 00:10:38.810
of the sculpture.

00:10:38.810 --> 00:10:44.029
For days she carries on this way, not breaking
to eat, bathe, or sleep.

00:10:44.029 --> 00:10:46.290
After three days pass, she runs out of concrete.

00:10:46.290 --> 00:10:50.680
But the sculpture is not finished, she'll
need to go out and get more.

00:10:50.680 --> 00:10:55.459
She takes a shower, washing away the dust,
the blood, and the guilt, changes into fresh,

00:10:55.459 --> 00:10:58.589
clean clothes, and takes a drive into town.

00:10:58.589 --> 00:11:02.269
She picks up more concrete first, telling
the clerk some story about home improvements

00:11:02.269 --> 00:11:03.630
she's working on.

00:11:03.630 --> 00:11:06.730
He asks if she's married, if her husband will
be helping with the work.

00:11:06.730 --> 00:11:08.209
"I'm recently separated."

00:11:08.209 --> 00:11:09.540
She replies.

00:11:09.540 --> 00:11:12.480
On the way home, a small store catches her
eye.

00:11:12.480 --> 00:11:16.709
It's a place she's driven by plenty of times,
a little occult shop filled with herbs and

00:11:16.709 --> 00:11:19.760
tapered candles and strange leather-bound
books.

00:11:19.760 --> 00:11:23.279
She isn't sure if she believes in this sort
of thing, not really, but something makes

00:11:23.279 --> 00:11:25.310
her park and walk inside anyway.

00:11:25.310 --> 00:11:30.060
A gnarled old woman behind the counter spots
her, and without speaking, points her toward

00:11:30.060 --> 00:11:31.750
a room in the back.

00:11:31.750 --> 00:11:37.180
It's different there, darker, filled with
vials of thick dark liquid, shelves full of

00:11:37.180 --> 00:11:40.089
skulls that might be human, though she isn't
sure.

00:11:40.089 --> 00:11:44.839
In the back of the room, there is a bottle
of paint, deep red and vibrant.

00:11:44.839 --> 00:11:46.850
What it's doing here, she couldn't be certain.

00:11:46.850 --> 00:11:51.769
But as soon as she sets eyes on it, she knows
she needs to have it, needs to add it to her

00:11:51.769 --> 00:11:54.590
sculpture to make it truly complete.

00:11:54.590 --> 00:11:58.250
She brings it to the woman at the counter,
but she just says "Take it.

00:11:58.250 --> 00:11:59.250
No charge.

00:11:59.250 --> 00:12:01.079
I can tell you really need it.

00:12:01.079 --> 00:12:04.899
Just be careful what you use it for, it's
powerful stuff."

00:12:04.899 --> 00:12:08.920
She wants to ask what that means, what is
so powerful about this little bottle of strange

00:12:08.920 --> 00:12:11.210
red paint, but she doesn't.

00:12:11.210 --> 00:12:15.410
She's much too exhausted, and much too determined
to get back home and put the finishing touches

00:12:15.410 --> 00:12:17.550
on her masterpiece.

00:12:17.550 --> 00:12:21.800
She drives straight home, and hauls the concrete
and paint inside, carrying it down to the

00:12:21.800 --> 00:12:23.080
basement.

00:12:23.080 --> 00:12:26.610
She's dizzy from hunger and lack of sleep,
but she doesn't care.

00:12:26.610 --> 00:12:31.350
She has one singular vision right now, and
she must see it carried out.

00:12:31.350 --> 00:12:35.760
She mixes more concrete and slathers the whole
shape again, sculpting out the round, bulbous

00:12:35.760 --> 00:12:40.130
head, the arms at its sides, the legs and
feet, the curve of the whole figure covered

00:12:40.130 --> 00:12:42.070
in thick gray sludge.

00:12:42.070 --> 00:12:43.070
In potential.

00:12:43.070 --> 00:12:44.910
A blank canvas.

00:12:44.910 --> 00:12:46.949
Before it dries, she opens the paint.

00:12:46.949 --> 00:12:50.190
It smells musty, rich, and somehow ancient.

00:12:50.190 --> 00:12:54.940
It clings to the bristles of her brush like
a living thing, and takes to the surface of

00:12:54.940 --> 00:13:00.529
the sculpture eagerly, spreading out as if
of its own volition as she brushes it on evenly.

00:13:00.529 --> 00:13:03.030
She paints the whole thing, every inch of
it.

00:13:03.030 --> 00:13:07.440
At first, it doesn't seem as if there will
be enough paint to finish the job, but somehow

00:13:07.440 --> 00:13:11.820
that little bottle coats the whole figure
in deep, dark red.

00:13:11.820 --> 00:13:16.000
She looks down at her hands, stained just
as brightly as they were when she swung that

00:13:16.000 --> 00:13:17.680
baseball bat.

00:13:17.680 --> 00:13:22.610
She looks back up at her creation, the amalgamation
of the fear, the pain, the heartbreak, the

00:13:22.610 --> 00:13:26.740
pure, primal rage, and begins to cry.

00:13:26.740 --> 00:13:31.230
The tears fall freely into her palms and,
without thinking, she smears them into the

00:13:31.230 --> 00:13:34.950
concrete and paint until they disappear into
the art.

00:13:34.950 --> 00:13:38.910
Then, she takes a step back, watching it all
dry.

00:13:38.910 --> 00:13:44.860
All of that work, all of that time, that great,
yawning chasm of loss, and this is what she

00:13:44.860 --> 00:13:46.360
has made of it.

00:13:46.360 --> 00:13:51.240
She loves it and she hates it all at once,
and she can't stop staring at the place where

00:13:51.240 --> 00:13:53.670
its eyes would be, if it had them.

00:13:53.670 --> 00:13:56.520
She half expects to see something looking
back.

00:13:56.520 --> 00:13:59.190
She shakes her head, looking down at the floor
for a moment.

00:13:59.190 --> 00:14:02.300
Then, she hears the sound of stone and metal
grinding together.

00:14:02.300 --> 00:14:08.540
Her gaze snaps back up, and she sees that
the sculpture has moved, just a little.

00:14:08.540 --> 00:14:11.360
Its head, turned in her direction.

00:14:11.360 --> 00:14:14.330
In an instant, her husband's words come back
to her.

00:14:14.330 --> 00:14:16.320
"Don't look at me like that.

00:14:16.320 --> 00:14:19.940
I can't stand when you stare at me like that."

00:14:19.940 --> 00:14:25.490
It couldn't be...She stares at it for a long
time, her eyes watering from the effort.

00:14:25.490 --> 00:14:26.620
She blinks.

00:14:26.620 --> 00:14:30.320
Her eyes open, and the sculpture is gone.

00:14:30.320 --> 00:14:33.570
There it is again, the grind of metal and
stone against each other.

00:14:33.570 --> 00:14:38.110
Then, with the sound of bones snapping, everything
went dark.

00:14:38.110 --> 00:14:43.570
Her hate, her vengeance, her desperate act
of violence and creation, with a splash of

00:14:43.570 --> 00:14:48.589
the most unusual paint, led to the creation
of a deadly masterpiece that would one day

00:14:48.589 --> 00:14:52.920
be known as...SCP-173.

00:14:52.920 --> 00:14:56.910
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00:14:56.910 --> 00:15:02.040
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