All done. It's a wrap up. Send it to postpro. This wasn’t our first movie together, but it’s the first we finish...
You maybe have doubts... That’s totally normal. Remember, you still have time to return the tape…
I hope reading all those documents give you an idea of what was happening in Antumbria. You got enough painful memories for a lifetime...
Everyone dresses their mental palace as they want. Don't you think? You have your pictures. I have my walls...
You always were about writing stories. Like him and his scripts... Drawing was my thing.
These scenes aren’t from real movies... You are not suppose to remember them. You weren't there when they happened. Then... Are those real?
The old family pictures have a mistery aura that always drawn us to them. But it's hard for me to recognize myself in them. My face is always so blurry...
These kind of movie reels can only be found on the black market. He always got a ton of them in his office. It’s was forbidden, mum make sure of it.
Will you dance the monster mash? Doing bad things make you a monster, but... Being a monster justifies bad things happening to you? Or does bad things also happen to good people?
He always preferred to be behind the camera, no matter what happened, he never stops recording. Never. You were just like him.
These are all the movies your father left you before… It's a terrifying collection. So fitting.
It's not yellow press, but still hits home.
There are secrets you will never forgive. Not even to mum. How could she hide this from us? Does she loves us?
You don't care about formats, horror stories are your thing, even if you're marked down as the weirdo.
You were never allowed to see your father's movies. At least you could read about them. You can feel him between these words. Will his works be worse if he behave better?
He will always follow you… He will be part of you, and you will be part of him…
23 times around the clock on an endless corridor. Happy now? It could have been 237, but I'm a good boy…
Usually it wasn’t so difficult, he was the short-fused type, but we made him mad. Again.
You tidied up a room for bad news. At least, now people can sit down in waiting.
Is ironic that silence is necessary in order to appreciate the music. Although, without music is imposible not hearing the screams…
You won't get back your wasted time stealing it from whom never could have it. You still have time to enjoy yours.
We're almost at the end. Just one last push to find out the truth…
You found all the clues, you have all the information, and still... Why do you feel these memories don’t belong...?
