Premature Burial

Good afternoon, Miss Gault.

Good afternoon, Judson.

I'd like to see...

Hello, Kate.

What do you want?

Will you tell Guy that

I would like to see him?

I'm afraid he doesn't

Wish to see you.

I shall have to hear

that from Guy himself.

Oh, really, Kate,

don't you think...

at least I deserve

an explanation?

Very well.

Will you please wait here?

I'm sorry.

Guy does not wish to see you.

I told you I'd have to hear

that from Guy himself.

Guy?

Emily.

Emily, you...

you shouldn't have come here.

So I understand.

But, Guy, don't you think

I deserve something...

a little more than a letter?

Look at me and tell me

you don't love me.

My darling,

I do love you... very much.

That's why I sent you

that letter...

because I do love you.

Now, darling, please go away

and forget you ever met me.

I know what happened, Guy.

My father told me.

Did he tell you why?

Despite what he thinks...

I didn't run away from what

Was inside that coffin...

but from what I knew

to be inside me.

L... I don't understand.

I'd hoped to spare you this.

If you do understand,

then you'll realize...

Why there can never be

a marriage between us.

Come with me.

Where does this lead?

Below.

Are you all right?

Yes, I... I think so.

Do you want to go back?

No. No.

You've often expressed a wish

to meet the rest of my family.

Well, here they are...

all my ancestors,

famous and infamous...

laid here to...

What is the term?

To rest.

From the beginning,

death has come...

to the Carrells

like an assassin...

but the least fortunate

of all was my father.

How did he die?

Like a single candle

in a dark and airless room.

Emily, my father...

Guy.

Kate, why are you here?

It's time for your medicine.

Oh, yes. I'd forgotten.

I'm sorry. Thank you.

What medicine?

Laudanum.

Guy, is this the cause of...

No. Not a cause. An effect.

Without it, I couldn't sleep.

Guy, tell me.

I should never have gone

With your father...

and those other doctors

that night.

I'm interested only

in private research.

I can never forget

that poor wretch...

Whose grave they robbed.

His staring eyes...

his clutching hands...

his fingernails

broken and bloody...

from the vain attempt

to claw away...

the lid of that coffin.

You see, all this has

a special meaning for me, Emily.

For years,

I've lived in dread...

of being buried alive.

Can you possibly conceive it?

The unendurable

oppression of the lungs...

the stifling fumes

of the damp earth...

the rigid embrace

of the coffin...

the blackness

of absolute night...

and the silence...

like an overwhelming sea.

And then,

invisible in the darkness...

but all too hideously real

to the other senses...

the presence

of the conqueror worm.

Guy!

I'm sorry.

These are just morbid fantasies.

I'm afraid not.

Every member of my family...

has met with a violent

and horrible death.

I now wait my turn.

How did your father die?

Catalepsy.

Do you know what that is?

When it strikes...

the victim gives every

outward sign of being dead.

But he's not dead. He's alive.

I was barely 13

When my father was stricken.

Doctor said

it was a heart attack...

and there was a funeral...

and he was sealed in this vault.

That night...

I heard him crying out...

a pitiful, desperate cry.

I begged with them.

I pleaded with them.

"He's alive.

He's alive," I said...

but no one would believe me.

Because it wasn't true.

It was!

I heard him.

In your mind.

No, Kate.

It would be easier

for me to accept that.

But I know the truth.

God help me,

I know the truth!

My father's inheritance

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