"The Three Mothers".
I don't know how much it will cost me to break what we alchemists
have always called Silentium.
Our brothers' experience warns us to not trouble profane minds
with our knowledge.
I, Varelli, an architect in London
have met the Three Mothers
and for them I created and built three homes.
One in Rome, one in New York, and the other one in Freiburg, Germany.
I discovered too late that from these three places
they rule the world with pain, tears and darkness.
Mater Suspiriorum, mother of sighs, the oldest of the three, lives in Freiburg.
Mater Lachrymarum, mother of tears the prettiest, rules in Rome.
Mater Tenebrarum the youngest and the cruelest
reigns over New York.
And I built their monstrous dwellings
caskets for their secrets.
Mothers, Stepmothers that do not give birth to life.
Sisters, Mistresses of the horrors of humanity.
Men, mistaken, call them with one terrible name.
But in the beginning, there were three mothers, as there were three sisters
three Muses, three Graces three fates, and three furies.
The earth that the houses are built upon becomes deadly and pestilent,
so much so that the buildings surrounding them
and sometimes the entire neighbourhood
smell bad because of them.
This is the first key to unlock their secret.
This is the first key.
The second key to discover the three sisters'
venomous secret
is hidden in the basements of their homes.
There, you will find an image of the house's dweller.
There is the second key.
The third is under the sole of your shoes.
There is the third key.
Dear Mark, my brother.
The second key is in the basement.
Good evening.
I've come to talk to you about that book.
Which book?
The last one you sold me. The Three Mothers.
Have you read it, by any chance?
A few passages, yes.
Listen, is it a made-up story, or is there some truth to it?
It upset you, right?
That is nothing more than a book written
by an ordinary alchemist.
You know, very many books have been written about damned houses.
The Monsters' Villa in Bagheria, near Palermo.
The Palace of the Peacock in Brussels.
The Salamander House in France.
Some people think they are purely works of imagination.
Others believe in them blindly.
Usually, women are the worst readers of these books.
Or the best, rather.
They take everything they read literally.
But no, you see, in one chapter the book talks about a very particular bad smell.
And in this neighbourhood, I smell
a strange, sweetish, nauseating smell, you know?
They say it's because of the cookie factory.
I've lived here a long time, and I've always smelled it. Does it bother you?
It's just a matter of getting used to it. Eventually, you won't notice it.
This isn't the only mystery. There's another one.
-If you've read the book-- -There are many
mysteries in that book
but life's only big mystery is that it is governed
only by dead people.
Good night.
The second key
is in the basement.
She went snooping around, we have to hide everything.
We really have to hide everything.
This musical piece is the famous "Va, pensiero".
Finale.
Part three.
From Nabucco, by Giuseppe Verdi.
Dear Mark, my brother.
You know that here in New York for some time already
I've been living in an old building.
Excuse me, I'd like to go somewhere else.
49 Via dei Bagni.
What a strange smell.
Sickly sweet.
ABERTNY FOUNDATION
PHILOSOPHY LIBRARY PUBLIC ADMISSION
What's the matter?
Nothing.
Are you looking for something?
No...
Yes, I'm looking for an old book.
I might be able to help you.
The title is The Three Mothers. Yes, The Three Mothers.
Look, it's there. Right behind you.
Thank you.
"This book is neither fictional nor a work of imagination.
It includes, instead, fragments of a diary
which I discovered among the personal papers of a friend,
an architect and highly respected alchemist
by the name of Varelli.
Varelli disappeared under mysterious circumstances many years ago.
This diary may help clear up the reasons for his strange death.
Since the diary was written in Latin
we decided to publish it in that form".
Sara.
We're closing.
Did you bring it for sure?
They're already there, don't you hear? Come on.
-Nobody knows, it's not possible. -Yes. What should I do?
Sir?
Excuse me.
Excuse me, sir.
I can't find the exit.
The other door.
-The book. -What?
It's not late, dear.
Yes, it is, we should have gotten here sooner.
Which floor?
Fourth.
No.
Can I help you?
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid to be left alone.
All right.
I have nothing to do for a couple of hours.
I can keep you company if you want.
What do you do, Sara?
-Do you study or work? -I study music.
What do you do?
I'm a journalist
sports reports for television.
-Can I ask you a strange question? -How strange?
Have you ever heard about the Three Sisters?
-You mean those black singers? -No.
I mean that ancient myth, the triad.
If you're talking about ghosts or stuff like that,
sorry, but I don't believe in it.
How can you be so sure?
I don't believe in it. That's all.
No philosophical discussions.
So what do you believe in?
In everything I see and touch.
You probably know this music.
It's Verdi's "Va, pensiero".
Mark, is that you?
I have that letter from your sister that you forgot at the Academy.
Listen, have you read it?
You have to read it. It's important.
Come here right away, please. I need to talk to you.
What's going on?
I don't know. Maybe there's a voltage drop.
-Carlo? -Yes?
Listen, where's the electricity meter?
It's in the closet at the end of the hall but please don't go in there!
Don't worry, I just want to check the switches.
Yes, but keep talking to me. Always let me know where you are.
All right.
Carlo?
Carlo, where are you?
In the closet. I found the switches.
Wait, I'm coming over there. I'm scared.
Carlo! Oh, my God, Carlo!
Carlo, what's going on?
I think I fixed it.
See?
Carlo?
Sara?
Sara, it's Mark.
"Dear Mark, my brother.
Kazanian. In my house lives... the third key is under the sole of your shoes".
-Maybe it was a maniac. -No...
I think it was the usual crazy slaughterer.
Nobody...
All right...
Do you know what happened?
I-- I don't know anything, she was already dead.
Nothing.
Hello? Hello?
-Rose, can you hear me? It's Mark. -Oh, Mark, finally,
You sound far away, can you speak louder?
Did you receive my letter?
Yes, yes, I received it, but I wasn't able to read it.
Why not?
I just couldn't.
Hello?
I can't hear anything.
So come to New York right away. Mark, please, do it for me.
I can't hear you. I don't understand. What's going on?
Promise me that you'll come here right away.
Yes, yes, of course. I'll come there right away.
Hello?
Hello? Rose, can you hear me?
Mark?
-You shouldn't think about it. -What is it?
Although, sometimes, it's much better.
They shall come at sunrise. Yes.
This one goes to the usual person.
Excuse me?
Yes?
I'm Mark Elliot, Rose's brother.
Oh, yes.
Apartment 45, 4th floor. Here is a copy of the key. If you'd like to go upstairs...
Thank you.
-So do you want to go upstairs or not? -Oh, yes.
Fourth floor, on the left.
This is Miss Elliot's brother.
He just got here,
all the way from Rome.
Oh, Italy.
Thank you.
He'd like to talk to you.
That's what he does when he wants to communicate with someone.
This is professor George Arnold. He's been sick for many years.
And what do you do?
Oh, I-- I study musicology.
Wonderful. A toxicology professor.
-We know two other-- -Not toxicology, musicology. Nothing
-to do with medicine. -What is it, then?
The study of music.
Oh, yes. Your sister has a very strange job too, right?
Strange? No, she writes poems.
Oh, yes, a very appropriate pastime for a woman, don't you think?
Goodbye.
Rose?
-Was that you? -Yes.
I was calling Rose. I saw the lights on, so I thought she was back.
We're friends. I live upstairs.
No, Rose is not here. I'm Mark, her brother.
How did you do that? The voice sounded strange, it echoed.
Rose and I discovered it a while ago.
It's our little secret. Look.
See this hole in the wall?
It's connected to your apartment.
It reaches every room through some open pipes.
When you talk into it
your voice is amplified.
This is an old building and it's full of strange secrets.
Listen, do you want to come in?
Okay, but only for a minute.
No, don't close it. Someone will come to let me know I get a phone call.
My name is Elise Stallone Van Adler.
I've been living here alone for over five years.
My husband is always away for work.
I can't go with him, because
I'm sick.
It's very strange. Rose knew I'd be arriving.
I was sure she'd be here waiting for me.
I don't understand where she could be.
Listen, what kind of people live here?
There aren't many tenants.
Part of the building is empty.
No, I mean
anybody special. I don't know...
I can't explain it, but in one of her letters Rose mentioned--
All I know is that this building used to belong to an eccentric, rich old man.
When he died, it was vacant for years
until a holding company took it over.
Who is Kazanian?
He's an antique book seller who has a store nearby.
Rose bought some very rare books from him.
And also--
Please excuse me.
You have a phone call, Madame Countess.
All right, I'll be right there.
-Bye, see you tomorrow, Mark. -Bye.
Did you hurt yourself, Madame Countess?
No, no, it's paint, not blood.
Who's there?
You filthy animal.
Damn cats.
How much was the dose this time?
The first was 200 milligrams.
The second, 400.
This is the strongest dose.
Do you want me to run you a bath?
Thank you.
Blood.
Your bath is ready, ma'am.
Good night. See you tomorrow morning.
Good night.
I hope you sleep well.
There is some blood in the hallway.
Did you notice that the door handle is broken?
-Yes, I saw that. -I want to tell you something.
I thought Rose was just raving.
Her nervousness, her fear of death,
the myth of the Three Mothers.
-And what's that? -It's her obsession.
They are three Latin names.
Mater Suspiriorum,
the mother of sighs.
Mater Lachrymarum, the mother of tears.
And Mater Tenebrarum, the mother of darkness.
Rose read about this myth in an old book.
And she talks about it like it's a true story.
She thinks someone lives in this building.
But I don't know. I can't explain it to you.
She should tell you. It all sounds absurd to me
so impossible. She's convinced that somehow
the building is connected to those three mothers.
She talked about an architect Marelli or Varelli, I don't remember.
An Italian name.
That's how she expresses herself. It's confusing--
Excited. And the feeling of always being watched.
She's felt its presence.
I believe her doctor gave...
Did you hear that laugh?
-Which laugh? -I thought I heard
someone laughing.
You were right, Elise.
This is really blood. Come take a look.
-Where does that door lead to? -The service stairs. No one uses them.
Maybe Rose went out this way.
-I'll go take a look. You want to go? -No, I'll wait for you here.
I'm scared.
All right.
Mark.
Where are you?
Mark?
Answer me.
Open the door, please!
My heart.
Please help me. Pain... My heart...
He says it's his heart.
A cardiotonic. He'll feel better right away.
My-- My God.
I'm in so much pain.
Come on, drink this. You'll see, it will help.
Where did Rose go?
Where did she go?
Why isn't she coming back? Why?
I think we better take him to his apartment.
Where did she go?
Elise?
Elise, it's Mark. Can you hear me?
Elise, it's Mark.
Elise.
Elise, it's Mark.
It's really disgusting.
There must be a dozen cats here.
They keep getting in my way.
The other night one of those damn cats scratched me and broke a little statue.
This is the last time I tell you, because next time
I'll go to the police
or to the Health Department, if I have to.
I warned you.
You better make those
damn cats disappear.
Do whatever you want, Mr. Kazanian.
Good morning.
Do you feel better, Mr. Elliot?
Yes, but I don't remember what happened to me last night.
You weren't feeling well. You know, your heart.
I've never had heart problems.
-We gave you some medicine. -Who was that man?
That guy? His name is Kazanian.
-He's an antique dealer. -Thanks, and thanks for last night.
You're welcome.
-Mr. Kazanian. -Yes?
My name is Mark Elliot. I'm Rose's brother.
-I know you know her. -Oh, I remember her.
-Yes, she bought several books. -Do you know her well?
-No, why? -No one has seen her in two days.
-I thought that-- -I just sold her some books.
What kind of books?
Antique books, old editions.
If you can't find her, why don't you try the usual routine?
-And what's that? -Call the hospitals
-or the police. -I did, but they don't know anything.
Listen, do you understand this phrase?
"The key is under the sole of your shoes".
What's that, a riddle?
I'm not too good with riddles.
How long have you been here?
I just got here yesterday.
You know what? There is going to be a lunar eclipse tonight.
Oh, I didn't know.
It's been 46 years since the last total eclipse we saw from here.
They just said so on television.
I urge you to watch it.
-It will be very interesting. -All right, I'll watch it.
You'll thank me for it.
Goodbye, Mr. Elliot.
Goodbye.
Where are you?
There you are.
Come on, boy, come out of there.
Come on, come out of there. Come on.
Come here, boy.
Good boy.
You wanted to hide, huh?
My crutch.
Help me!
My legs. Help me.
Help me!
Please! Please!
Oh, God! Rats, no.
I can't take it anymore!
Rats! Oh, my God, rats!
Help!
Help! Oh, my God!
Save me, Christ! Someone get me out of here!
Get out of here! Go away!
Please, help!
Hurry! Hurry, run! They're eating me alive!
I can't take it anymore! Hurry!
Rats! Run! Help!
Come take a look.
Oh, my God. That's a lot of stuff.
That horrible countess thought she had hidden them well.
But you know what? It took me less than 1 5 minutes to find them.
-You've been drinking today. -No, that's not true.
-You have been drinking, I can smell it. -I told you I haven't.
Well.
Now, go upstairs and call her husband right away.
Do you know where to find him?
Tell him the countess left suddenly
taking all her valuables with her.
-And what if she comes back? -She won't.
-Don't worry, she's never coming back. -How can you be so sure?
What if she shows up?
I told you, the countess is never coming back here.
Now, go call her husband.
Soon, it will be our turn to enjoy life
as much as the countess enjoyed it
along with all those other rich bastards.
Who is it?
Who's there?
John?
How did that phrase go?
"Under the sole of your shoes".
"The key is under the sole of your shoes".
Did you find the way?
-I suppose you know who I am. -No, I don't know.
Many years ago, when I lived in London, I was known as Varelli.
Now, I use another name in order to be forgotten.
Are you surprised to hear my voice?
I can only talk with this.
I built the houses of the Three Mothers.
Houses that are eyes with which they see.
And then I buried myself in here.
This building has become my body, its bricks are my cells.
Its passageways are my veins.
Its horror is my life now.
My sister. Where is my sister?
Come closer. She mustn't hear us.
She's the cruelest of all three.
The mother of darkness.
Come here.
You're not afraid of an old man who can't move, are you?
I'll whisper it in your ear. Come a little closer.
I-- I am dying.
But nothing will ever be able to change.
They won't allow it. They don't want anything to change.
I am not the master. I am only
a servant. -Who lives in these damned houses?
Someone who waits.
-Who is it? -She's watching you right now.
But remember one thing:
You are dust compared to her.
Burning.
Everything is burning. It has already happened once before.
We have to get out of this place.
You will not leave.
The end of your journey is near.
Everything around you will become dark.
Someone will guide you by the hand, and you'll be glad.
You must not be afraid. You will also know moments of incredible light.
You think this is magic? No.
I am not a magician. Let's hurry now
because you still have to go through several apparitions and tremble.
You were looking for me, right? Just like your sister.
This is what you wanted, right? I'm coming to get you now.
-Who are you? -The Three Mothers.
What, you don't understand?
Mater Tenebrarum, Mater Lachrymarum,
Mater Suspiriorum
but men call us by one name,
a name which frightens everyone.
They call us Death.
Death!
Stand back, stand back.