The Dresden Files

When I was a kid, my father told me

there was no such things as monsters.

My nightmares were just figments of my imagination.

As I got older, I had to wonder, was he lying to me...

...or just wrong?

Dad?!

Dad?!

Harry?! Harry, come on. What is it?

- I'm trying to fix my ring finale. - The closet,

there's something in there. I can hear it breathing.

Okay okay, I'll look.

It's just a closet, Harry.

I saw the door move.

Well then, I got something for you, okay?

- What is it? - This was your mother's.

Go ahead, open it.

That's a shield bracelet.

I never really knew how it worked,

but your mother said that it protected her.

And she wanted you to have it.

Why didn't it save her?

She wasn't wearing it.

Why not?

I don't know.

Whatever killed mom,

I'm gonna find it.

And when I do,

I'm gonna rip its heart out.

Hey, good morning.

Got that right.

Are you okay?

Yeah yeah, I'm fine. I was just... you?

Surprisingly rested,

Despite the lack of sleep.

- What time is it? - Well...

It's 7:10.

I'm late! Oh man!

Oh man, where are my pants?

I gotta go.

- Drop by the diner later? - All right.

Bob, where're my keys?

I left my jeep at the diner.

Careful! These equations are very precise

and if you walk through them,

I will start belting show tunes from the 16th century.

Please, anything but that.

Okay, you seen my keys? I'm parked on the wrong side of the street...

- The girl gone? - The girl is Laura,

and yes, while gone, rests gentle in my thoughts.

- Any locker-room recounting? - No.

You know what? I had that dream again about my dad.

That's the third time this week.

I'd say we're moving away from dreams

and into signs and portents.

I've seen this formula before.

I'm redesigning a pet project of mine

from before my forced retirement.

- I call it the doom box. - Well, that's catchy. What does it do?

It's a bit of a supernatural Jack-in-the-box.

It contains and then amplifies magical energy

so that when you open it, well...

"Pop! Goes the weasel."

That was in that book you wrote.

My first grimoire...

Your uncle had a copy of it.

I believe you burned it.

Pretty nasty stuff in there, Bob.

Yes well, it served him well,

as did I,

right up until you...

self-defensed him to death.

Get back in your skull, ghost.

Found them.

Oh, god.

Why do you do this to me, huh?

Why can't I just...

Is this you, Harry Dresden?

Where'd you come from? Did you follow me from my office?

You're a wizard, right?

I don't do parties and I don't teach magic.

Wait!

I've got monsters.

- What? - Monsters!

If you don't do anything to help, they're gonna kill me and my mom.

- Why would they do that? - I don't know,

but I'll pay you $5,000 to find out.

Where are you going to get $5,000, kid?

Put that away. Put it away.

Listen, kid...

- Scott. - Here you go, Harry.

Scott. Laura, thank you.

Okay, monsters...

They're not out to kill you or your mom, all right?

- How can you be so sure? - I can't,

but for the most part monsters don't exist.

These ones are real.

I've heard them... two months ago,

clicking and scratching outside my door.

I'd love to take your money, I really would,

but I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd taken advantage

of an imaginative kid, who really shouldn't be

cashing out his college savings bonds for hiring wizards

out of the phone book.

You gotta help me.

I am.

Walking away.

Save your money. And you go to school...

College, whatever... college, right?

Thanks, Laura.

- Lieutenant Murphy. - ? Hey, morning, ? Murphy.

- How things? - Gruesome. What's your problem?

Hey, why does it have to be a problem?

Can't I just call you to say hey?

Spill it. I'm busy.

Well, listen, my car got booted and, uh,

I was just wondering if maybe you could do that cop thing

and get it unbooted.

Sorry, Harry, pay the fines. Parking tickets.

Maybe I'll do a little magic and make his car disappear.

Okay, so what do we got?

Folks saw her come home last night. After that, nobody saw

or heard anything until the postman opened the door

and found the body.

- The victim's female, 35. - I.D., credit cards?

Both missing along with a car. We're tracking them now.

Did you talk to the victim's co-workers

or friends, see if anyone has a grudge?

Not many friends, unfortunately.

As far as her job is concerned, she's a floater.

The district moved her around a lot.

Having trouble tracking down her current assignment... city records.

We're sure this is the woman who lives here?

I'll let you know when we find the face.

So our guy kills her, skins her,

then poses her.

Assuming she was dead when she was skinned.

The thing is if she was killed here,

where's all the blood?

Harry, this morning you were speaking about your father

and I poured salt into an old wound

and mentioned your uncle. That was unkind.

- Apology accepted, Bob. - No,

there's more to it than that.

I fear I have put you in a bad mood,

clouded your judgment about this child,

made you dismiss his concerns

when you would've otherwise accepted them.

You mean take his money?

Harry, I'm not being avaricious now.

You were once a frightened boy,

and now a frightened boy has come to you.

It is not inconceivable

that his fear is based in a certain truth.

I'm not taking money off a kid.

I know, I know!

I also know that if there is any truth to his claim

and he were to be harmed,

you would never forgive yourself.

And I would have to endure

the ensuing months of self-flagellation.

So don't take his money,

but do take him at his word.

See if his monsters are real,

have someone look into the records

of the high council.

And that someone would be, uh, Melissa?

She of the languid eyes.

When they're not rolled back in her head.

Here you go, fries and a chicken salad.

- Thanks, Laura. - Who's your friend, Harry?

Oh, it's-it's Melissa. Laur-Laura, this is Melissa.

Melissa, this is...

- Laura, yeah. - How do you do?

Well, I do quite well.

Got everything? Good.

Nice place... not big on service though.

All I need is a quick look through high council records.

- So simple status check. - Nothing is simple with you.

Look, it's...

Scott and Sheryl Sharpe, okay?

A kid and his mom. The kid thinks he's being targeted,

and I wanna make sure there's no cosmic debt hanging over them.

- Anything at all. - So let me get this straight...

You want me to do an unauthorized records check

in exchange for a chicken salad.

Will you please just do this for me? It's just for the kid.

You know what? Just... Just shut up and eat... mainly shut up.

You're not doing it here?

Oh please.

I'll be right back.

- Nothing. - Nothing at all?

Sharpes aren't listed. What do you say you take those fries to go

so I can enjoy my chicken salad in peace?

That sounds like a really good idea. Bye.

? Okay, guys, come on.

Chop-chop, let's go.

- You okay, Scott? - Yeah.

Hey, Scott?

I'd like you to stay a little after school today.

- Did I do something wrong? - Oh no no. No.