Masters of Horror

Enter if you must. Just push that **.

And knock like a woodpecker

and it just hammers right through my brain.

You knock like a man with a big boom, boom, boom, and I'm fine,

but this little birdy, tippie, tappie, tippie, tappie is like to make my eyes

pop out of my head.

Come on in and sit by the fire where I can see you.

My eyes are not so sharp any more.

Mrs. Carnation?

Depends on who ask.

My name is Edward Ralston.

Handsome man.

You are Mrs. Carnation.

The necromancer?

Been many long years since anybody called me that.

- But you are she? - Let's say I once was she.

Madame. I'm in desperate need of your help.

I cannot help the likes of prosperous young gentleman like you!

But I was told you could raise the dead.

Well, you was told wrongly.

- You cannot raise the dead? - I will not raise the dead!

Not even for so comely a gentleman as yourself.

Madame.

I have just come from the funeral of my beloved wife, Samantha.

A lovelier and more vibrant woman you could never hope to meet.

You're sure your wife is all you said she was?

Let her go with God,

and lie in peace.

I cannot help you.

But you hold the power to bring her back to me.

- And yet you refuse! - It's for your own good.

And for my own.

- I'm all used up! - And why not?

Why would you help us erase my grief?

Why would you not bring back the woman I love to me?

Have you heard the story of Ernst Haeckel?

What does he have to do with this!

Oh, young sir. He has everything to do with this.

If I tell you my story and you still wish your

beloved Samantha brought back from the dead,

then I would gladly grant you your wish.

Do you mean that?

If you love is so great,

then yes!

I will bring your wife back to you.

No love is greater. I swear to you!

We shall see!

We shall see!

Now...

Sit with you back to the fire and I shall tell you my tale.

It hurts my neck to look up at you.

Well...

Ernst Haeckel...

was a medical student in Massachusetts.

A cocky young man. Thought he knew it all.

Do go on.

Well, this was some time ago,

50 years, or more...

A more naive age.

Not so filled with...

answers...

... as today.

It is man laid out in his final inglorious chapter.

Devoid of his soul, all that is is left is flesh.

A machine without power. A mere husk, an empty vessel.

Only God in his wisdom may grant life and take it away.

So, you, my young charges are the instruments of God's will.

And it is up to you to serve him well.

What has God to do with man?

Ahh, our young heathen.

Well, why don't you tell me and the class all about it, Mr. Haeckel?

Man and woman fornicate to create life.

Accident, disease, or old age take it away.

Your God has nothing to do with it.

He is our God, Mr Haeckel, not my own, and he has everything to do with it.

There is no man without God!

I am a man without God, Dr. Hauser.

Well, you may think so, sir, but you are wrong. There is no life without God.

I take it you're unfamiliar with recent experiments in Germany,

which have proven otherwise.

I am well aware of the tales of Victor Frankenstein, Mr. Haeckel.

And they are fairy tales. Wishful thinking.

Scripture tells us that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

God gives us life and once he takes it away, it is gone for good.

And you believe that there is no life after death?

Oh, I believe in an afterlife, sir, but not in the reanimation

of the human corpse.

Then what on earth do you celebrate every Easter Sunday?

This is an entirely different matter, young man.

God may resurrect. Man may not.

And I believe that you are wrong, sir.

What you believe is entirely of no consequence to me my young free thinker!

Why don't you tell it to our poor Mr. Willaby here?

I can prove it, professor.

Oh, I'm sure that you can inseminate, Mr Haeckel, much as that might distress me.

But it is God and God alone who grants us the spark of life.

No, Professor.

I mean that I can give life to the dead.

Well, I shall very much like to see that.

I imagine that you should.

This unfortunate young woman

died of consumption just over a week ago.

How did you acquired her body?

- Does it really matter? - It matters a great deal, young man.

And how does the University acquire its cadavers?

From accredited legal sources.

Your father is a pious and wise man, Mr. Haeckel.

Surely he does not approve of this blasphemy.

You know nothing of my father!

My father approves of the truth.

I've been following the notes of the German scientist quite specifically.

And I've been able to harness the electrical power of the lightning.

My challenge is then

to channel that power

through these copper ropes

and into the body, and thereby ignite the spark of life.

This girl shall live again.

Now...

Watch this!

Well ..

It appears divinity is still a long ways off for you, is it not Mr. Haeckel?

Quiet!

May God forgive you, sir.

I'm so sorry.

Hello, Chester.

Good evening, sir.

How fare is your father, the elder Dr. Haeckel?

I hope that his condition is better.

- He is not well, Chester? - Not well at all.

Well, please give him my best wishes and salutations for me, will you sir?

Oh, my!

Is that...?

Still dead, eh, Mr. Ernst?

You're lucky I'm here.

Got some good beef with me tonight!

Pneumonia. Just last night.

And a real bargain at $10.

Not tonight, Chester.

Money is tight, isn't it Mr. Ernst?

Always! A thousand, a hundred, even ten dollars.

I've failed.

The key to life after death is still beyond my reach.

Well, chin up, sir. You're a young man.

You'll surely figure out the mysteries of life and death

before you shuffle off this mortal **, right?

I'm in no mood for sarcasm, Chester.

Sarcastic?

- Me? - Yes, Chester. You.

Well, if it's life after death you seek,

should you not speak with a necromancer?

They place their faith in magic and the supernatural.

I believe in science. Not fairy stories.

Well, Mr. Haeckel,

I'm a simple uneducated man.

Science and magic seem one of a kind to me.

I saw Montesquino, the necromancer, down to the park of a weekend.

And his magic seemed pretty scientifical to me, young sir.

He made the dead rise!

But as I said,

I'm not so sophisticated as you.

But I think that we should be careful when we talk about necromancers.

Why should we be careful talking about a little English prick

who preys upon our women?

Good Lord! He practically steals form their purses!

- Claiming he can raise the dead. - And how do you know he cannot?

- Why you and not he? - Science, Chester.

Not balderdash.

I believe the evidence of my eyes, young master.

And I saw what I take to be proof

that such crafts as this Montesquino professes are real.

I should not dismiss it out of hand!

Perhaps you should see for yourself.

What is the line between life and death?

Between darkness and light, between existence and infinity?

I am here to tell you,

that the dead can live again!

I possess that mystical secret,

held until now only by the secret shaman of Zanzibar.

It came to me at great cost,

and it is a power that I do not use lightly.

With power comes responsibility.

For each life I grant,

takes a year off my own!

But because of the sacred trust I hold,

it is well worth it!

I sense disbelieve among you.

Young man.

I gather an educated man such as yourself,

would require proof of such a proclamation.

I would indeed, sir.

And what would convince you of my powers?

Not this side show, Professor Montesquino.

I ask you again, son.

What proof will you require that I tell the truth?

Nothing less than to see the dead revive before my own eyes.

And you shall have it, young man.

Behold!

Death!

This miserable cur is dead, is he not?

Quite dead, sir.