Hemlock Grove

Dr. Zheleznova-Burdukovskaya...

I'm becoming weary of explaining to you Roman Godfrey's receiving gene therapy

- for a rare renal disorder. - I know, and I am here to assist you.

And I'm telling you again your offer is appreciated,

but your presence is entirely unnecessary.

- But I can be of service. - Yes, elsewhere.

You're falling behind on your other assignments.

Allegation is false.

Your special request is in process.

- In the meantime... - You're trying my patience, Doctor.

And you are being irrational, Doctor.

I suggest you stop questioning my authority.

I won't have it, do you understand?

Now go, before I lose my equanimity.

Yes, Doctor.

Sure you know what you're doing here, Pryce?

Oh, it's actually quite simple.

Your organs and tissues will be reverted to stem cell status, one by one,

and then re-differentiated into healthy human organs,

purged of the bonded retroviral fragments that dictate upir-ism.

Soon you will leave the world of upirs

to take your place amongst the world of men.

Now, you may feel some minor discomfort.

But your nervous system is configured in such a way that it's essentially

impossible for any anesthesia to mitigate the unpleasantness.

And I need you responsive and conscious during the treatment.

Is there nothing you can do to control the pain?

Think happy thoughts.

Almost finished. You've done marvelously, Roman.

What's that?

It's a solution of hunter-seeker prions

with a rapidly oscillating pH factor that takes it off the table

of acids and bases at 60 cycles per second.

I think you'll find it quite refreshing.

Session one went extremely well.

Only five more to go.

An immature Thomson's gazelle sips, oblivious to the approach

of a 14-foot Crocodylus suchus, or African desert croc.

And this guy's got dinner in mind.

With a bite of 5,000 pounds per square inch,

the fate of the young gazelle is sealed,

- its death bloody and swift. - Such is the way of the world.

When Nature Gets Hungry.

Damn.

- When we return, recent sightings... - I'm late.

... of the giant vampire bat, thought to have gone ext...

Every moment without you will be torture.

Oh, I'm sure you'll survive.

- Bye, Peter. - Bye.

Hm.

You should have a real breakfast. Most important meal of the day.

Damn it. Chasseur's back. His car is outside.

Don't worry. I told you, I arranged for the Fazedin brothers...

Shhh!

To say we were all together playing bocce yesterday.

- Those were taken five days ago. - Who's to know?

The true warrior runs today and lives to fight another day.

You find something?

When was the last time you talked to your mom?

I saw her yesterday. She was being transferred to another facility.

Didn't go exactly according to plan, did it?

The transport vehicle was found by the side of the road.

- Your mother was gone. - What?

Well, then you better go and find her!

It's on my list.

Everybody likes to do a little something special

every now and then for their mom.

I usually hold it to buying flowers,

but then my mother's not wanted on multiple felony counts.

- So, what's your point? - I don't need to pursue this

particular clusterfuck with any special vigor at this moment.

- I've got a full plate. - What do you want from me?

You learn anything concerning my sister, you come to me.

We're gonna work together, right?

And if I find you're withholding on me,

I will move heaven and earth to fuck you up. Understand?

Yeah, I get it.

I know exactly what you are.

- And what's that? - A means to an end.

Dr. Zheleznova-Burdukovskaya. Please come in.

Spasibo, Mrs. Godfrey.

To your health, Mrs. Godfrey.

Vashe zdorov'ye.

To what do I owe this?

Pryce thinks I'm stupid enough to believe his lies.

He treat me like dirt. But I know truth.

What is the truth?

Are you aware, Mrs. Godfrey, that your son

is receiving special medical treatments from Dr. Pryce?

- What's wrong with him? - As I suspected.

Nobody hasn't not told you nothing.

Mrs. Godfrey, you might find what I'm next saying to you

- is, in nature, quite shocking. - Hm. I doubt it.

What the good Dr. Pryce doesn't realize is that

I know he has agreed to help Roman

rid himself of his upir-ism forever.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

When I was young apparatchitsa,

I took my studies at Murmansk Institute for Advanced Genetics,

where I identified your kind

as heritable N4P retroviral anomalies.

What the peasants referred to as...

"The blood hungry."

The asylums were full of them.

It was only through observation

and a little snooping that I realized

you and your son were of this tribe.

Does Pryce know you're here? Did he put you up to this?

Pryce is...

He is a dog who eats his own feces and thinks it's sirloin steak.

What do you want, money? Is that what you're after?

I not want your money.

I can be quite helpful to you.

And someday you will do favor for me.

A favor that's commensurate with the scale of your gratitude.

Pryce badly underestimates me.

Galina Aleksandrovna Zheleznova-Burdukovskaya

is nobody's fool.

Vashe zdorov'ye.

I will see my own way out.

She's sleeping now.

Singing to her helps.

You know, I know it's a... it's a weird situation,

but I thought you and I could... I don't know,

help each other out a little more and be a little friendlier, you know?

I didn't ask for this gig, Bitch.

- Good morning, Olivia. - What are you doing to my son?

Olivia...

... Roman has embarked on a rather radical lifestyle change.

He is physiologically expunging all vestiges of his upir-ism.

Receiving an upir-ectomy, if you will.

- From you? - Yes.

Why on earth would he do such a thing?

I had no idea I raised such a half-wit.

- How could you do this to me?! - I'm not doing it to you.

I'm doing it for you. For us.

Roman has decided to cast away his greatest power.

He'll be as docile as a kitten. Much, much easier for us to manage.

And let's call a spade a spade.

He loathes you with every fiber of his being.

- You went behind my back! - I didn't want to upset you.

- I know how emotional you've been. - Don't you dare condescend to me!

You've deliberately hidden the truth.

Have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps the future

no longer lies with Roman? By electing to become human,

he has deliberately chosen to incorporate

accelerating bio-deterioration in his very genes.

- What? - To die, Olivia,

within the normal span of mortal years.

Everything you've been fighting to avoid.

It's just fucked up, is what that is.

Well, maybe it's time to contemplate a world without Roman in it.

I don't kill my children...

... anymore. I've changed.

Well, I'm merely suggesting that perhaps it's your granddaughter

you should turn your attention to now.

Oh, you think I haven't thought of her? You think I'm some kind of a monster?

"If you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss gazes back into you."

If he's willing to mutilate himself, he might do the same with the child.

I'll handle Roman.

Your granddaughter is the key to the survival of your lineage.

She is your future.

Madam, what a pleasant surprise. Please come in.

Thank you, Conway.

- Is Roman in? - He isn't.

Uh... Do you know when he'll be back?

No, ma'am.

I came to see my grandchild. Would you bring her to me, please?

- I'm sorry, I can't do that. - Oh, for God's sake, Conway. Why not?

- I'm under strict orders. - You disappoint me.

Perhaps you'll reconsider in light of our... many long years of friendship.

What are you doing here?!

You were under orders. Why'd you let her in?

It's OK, it's OK. I just had a very informative discussion with Pryce.

I know exactly what you're up to. I just can't, for the life of me,

- figure out why. - I have no intention of

living out my life as a literal parasite.

Pathetic, burrowing, semi-human tick.

- You have no heart. - It's hereditary.

Roman, I know I've been a less than perfect mother...

If you ever come back here again, it won't be your tongue I'll rip out.

It'll be your lungs.

- Conway, will you show this woman the door?

I'll see my own way out.

Madam, a word?

You have a right to know. A right to know.

- A right to know what? - Street trash is what she is.

- Who is? - Shows up at the front door

with some cock-and-bull story that she's been in a car wreck.

Insinuates herself into the household and then...

... straight into your son's bed.

And where is she now, this street trash?

Who knows? She comes and goes as she pleases.

I'm being usurped, madam. The little whore has taken over care of the baby.

Acts like she's the child's mother.

Whoa. What's your dog's name? Can I pet him?

Zdrastvuite, Doctor. You wanted to see me.

Yes, Doctor. It's been brought to my attention that sensitive information

is escaping from the confines of our institution.

If this is the case, I assure you I will find person responsible