Dexter

Blood. Sometimes it sets my teeth on edge,

other times it helps me control the chaos.

Last season on Dexter...

Tonight"s the night and it's going to happen again... and again.

Open your eyes and look at what you did!

Please, you have to understand.

Trust me, I definitely understand.

Children - I could never do that, not like you.

- Why? - I have standards.

- You'd better be a cop. - No. Forensics.

- They found another hooker. - Another?

The third in five months.

There's no blood near the body at all.

It's the weirdest thing you ever saw.

I"ve never seen such clean, dry, neat-looking dead flesh.

How does he get rid of the blood?

I think this is a friendly message,

Kind of like, "'Hey, want to play?"'

And, yes, I want to play. I really, really do.

What's this sick son of a bitch telling us?

Not us. Me.

Interesting hand job.

- Think this is our guy's work? - The lce-Truck Killer?

This feels familiar.

When he broke into my apartment,

he took some time to get to know me, my life, my secrets.

He knows. He"s not corrupting the happy, Hallmark images of my youth.

He's revealing the ugly truth behind them.

Son, there are people out there who do really bad things.

Of course, you have to learn to spot them. But I can teach you.

The code of Harry, my foster father, is satisfied.

- So how the hell was your date with Rita? - Great.

She's perfect because Rita is,

in her own way, as damaged as me.

- I want... - A normal life.

Yeah, a normal life.

The killer is an artist.

You give me the fucking creeps, you know that?

Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.

Why, in a building full of cops,

is Doakes the only one who gets the creeps from me?

I want you and Rita to meet my boyfriend.

Dex, Rudy's different.

I feel safe with him. I think I'm falling for him.

Dexter.

I've waited a long time to meet you.

Dad's coming home?

If their dad shows up. We'll deal with it together.

Paul Bennett, father on parole.

Are you fucking my wife?

My heart beats for those two kids,

so if you or that skinny bitch try to screw with what's mine,

I swear to God. I don't care who I have to hurt.

Let's face it, Paul, you've been a problem.

It's time for you to go away.

He smacked me over the head and dragged me out of the house,

probably through the back yard.

All I want is for you to look for a shoe. Lt"s missing.

I'm telling you. Dexter is not who you think he is.

Do I have the pleasure of your company this weekend?

We've had a major break in the lce-Truck Killer case.

Debra Morgan...

will you marry me?

Yes. Yes.

Where's my sister?

Took her code 12. Left about an hour ago.

How did you not know who I was?

I think a real cop would... at least have a sense

that she was in the presence of the person that she was hunting.

Where the fuck are you? I'm here at work.

I need to talk to you. Do not see Rudy until you find me.

You're connected to this.

I don't know how, but I'll find out, and some of what I find's gonna stick to your ass.

I was hoping you could dig up an old case file for me.

Sure thing.

It's the crime scene where Harry found me.

This is what he wanted me to find all along.

He's showing me where to go.

Laura Moser and three others found chopped up with a chainsaw.

What is in that report that Harry didn't want me to see?

What he saw in that cargo container changed him.

You were left there for days, starving,

In blood two inches thick.

You remember now?

- I have a brother. - A real brother.

I didn't even know you existed.

Imagine how I felt when I tracked you down

and found out you were exactly like me.

You can't be a killer and a hero.

It doesn't work that way!

Why me, Dex? Why'd he choose me?

Just lucky, I guess.

I was so scared. I was so scared.

Am I one of your victims now?

You're not a trophy.

But you need to be put down.

Sorry.

I drove away a brother who accepts me

for a foster father who betrayed me.

I'm not alone, and Harry kept it from me.

Doakes always sensed I was hiding something.

Now he knows. My devil danced with his demon

and the fiddler's tune is far from over.

Tonight's the night...

and it's going to happen again and again.

Has to happen.

It's not what I want, but what I want doesn't matter.

This is the only way I know how to survive.

I'm coiled and ready to strike...

although a spare will do.

Nice. Nice. Nice warm-up, bro.

Now, you can get that. Remember, loose-arm swing.

Loose. Got it.

And keep your mind limber.

- I'm doing mental jumping jacks. - Don't forget.

Okey dokey.

I'm on edge.

38 days, 16 hours, and 12 minutes have passed

since I killed my brother.

In that entire time, I haven't had a single night to myself.

Sergeant Doakes makes sure of that. He follows me everywhere now,

a human bloodhound, incited by the scent of darkness.

My best hope of losing him is to act relentlessly normal, dull.

So I bowl.

What's really disturbing is that I"m good at it.

Balls, Dex.

You pictured it, didn't you?

Hey. Striker. We need you to lock down tonight, huh?

We're playing the Alley Cats.

I'm a little tense, Angel.

But I'll try my best not to let the team down.

Try? Try?

You got to think positive, bro,

'cause what we think creates the world around us.

It's all about energy and interconnectedness.

I mean, we got to think positive...

Angel lost someone, too, when his wife left him.

Now he's going toward the light, searching for answers.

He found one on an Oprah rerun.

I wish it were that easy for me.

And we just got to direct it to manifest what we want.

OK?

All right.

Dude, dude, just bowl a strike

so we can go have some fun at the strip clubs.

I want to see a real 7-10 split.

I wish I could have fun.

With Doakes tailing me, my life's been all Jekyll and no Hyde -

no moonlit play dates,

no late-night social calls, not one.

My brother would be so disappointed.

Don't forget, tell the universe what you need.

I really need

to kill somebody.

Did you even take my advice?

I'm telling you, the universe can be very generous.

It certainly can.

For weeks I've known who was next, who belonged to me.

I just needed Doakes to take a night off.

What do you need?

I need to curse someone.

What kind of curse?

Death curse.

We don't do that kind of thing here.

You can go down to Little Haiti,

find all the hoodoo voodoo you need there.

You are Jimmy Sensio, high priest. Right?

The man with God in his mouth?

I'm not a tourist.

I need a Petro curse, and I heard you were the best.

Thank you for your offering.

Come.

A blind man - not very sporting, I know,

but I'm not one to discriminate based on race, gender, or disability.

What... is... happening?

The only pertinent question is what happened to your victims?

What are you doing? What do you want?

I can see this might be confusing, Jimmy, but my favorite part's kind of ruined here.

See, this is where I'd normally show you the innocent people you've killed.

I brought them along anyway, as part of my death ritual.

Since you're blind, I'll just remind you.

Emmanuel Alzua,

Jean Philippe Peguero,

Nono Baptiste.

I didn't kill them.

I cursed them.

And in a remarkable coincidence,

they each died of respiratory failure

with fluid in their lungs.

I guess murder is one way to make your curses come true.

It's good for business.

What... what was that?

Just the next part of the ritual.

How did you administer the ricin poison to your victims?

I am the one with the power in his hands.

That's not entirely accurate.

Those who believe in me shall be free.

Alabanza, Alaban...

Knock it off.

How'd you poison them?