Wenn dort eine Bento-Box zur Mitnahme A high-school girl is kidnapped by gang lords and held captive for Yhei Toyoda and Yuuya This is the movie for the Junko Furuta case. The link to all the other parts are included It dosn't have any english subtitles but it really is wo Konkurto - IMDb A high-school girl is kidnapped by gang lords and held captive for several months. R 88 min Horror, Thriller. A girl named Rachael Newman has developed a taste for murder and will stop at nothing to become a college professor's assistant.
Director: Morgan J. Votes: 15, PG 92 min Action, Adventure, Comedy. Jacques Clouseau teams up with a squad of International detectives who are just as bumbling as he is. Their mission: Stop a globe-trotting thief who specializes in stealing historical artifacts. Not Rated min Documentary, Crime. A film that successfully argued that a man was wrongly convicted for murder by a corrupt justice system in Dallas County, Texas. A far-ranging look at the biases in how we see things, focusing on the use of police body cameras.
Votes: For every psychopath there are signs. Would you see them? Revisiting some of the most dangerous killers in modern history to see which psychopathic traits they exhibited.
Featuring real archive footage. Stars: Samantha Turret , Andrew Colford. R 99 min Comedy, Crime, Drama. During his final days, a dying man is reunited with old friends, former lovers, his ex-wife, and his estranged son. A professor of criminology tries to solve five completely unrelated murders whose only link is quotes from Pythagoras.
Votes: 10, R 74 min Action, Fantasy, Horror. An unspeakable evil has come into our dimension and wants to rule over Earth, and only a mysterious sorceror known as Doctor Mordrid can stop him.
Votes: 1, Stars: Christopher Slade , Louis B. Schlesinger , Katherine Ramsland , Helen Morrison. Not Rated 88 min Crime, Drama. R min Crime, Horror, Thriller. A psychological thriller based on the concept of anamorphosis, a painting technique that manipulates the laws of perspective to create two competing images on a single canvas. Approved min Crime, Drama, History. Search icon An illustration of a magnifying glass. User icon An illustration of a person's head and chest. Sign up Log in.
Web icon An illustration of a computer application window Wayback Machine Texts icon An illustration of an open book.
Books Video icon An illustration of two cells of a film strip. She could still taste the overwhelming bitterness of the french press full of espresso he had given her. She hummed to herself as she made some coffee at a strength an average human would be accustomed to, snagging an uncrustable to have with it as well.
But his bird eats better than he does? No offence, Edgar. Edgar did not respond, except to tilt his head one way, then the other. He flew up onto the bookshelf and pecked at the wood up there, hopping excitedly from foot to foot. Sam stuffed the sandwich in her mouth, grabbed her coffee, and made her way over.
Edgar flapped his wings at her in response, and she went to see what book he was insisting she look at now. It was an old leather bound journal - an old journal, with faded, yellowing pages that were beginning to disintegrate at the edges. Edgar hopped around in a circle, irritation evident in the way he ruffled his feathers.
Sam picked it up, and realised that it was a photograph. She flipped the photo over, and gasped. There on the page was Mordrid, not a day younger than how she knew him, though clearly dressed in a suit and cravat more appropriate to the era.
But next to him… next to him was herself. Panic seized her, and she could feel her heartbeat in her throat pounding in time with the nausea roiling in her stomach.
I spoke to him first… I chased him down. Oh my god Edgar, I used to think he was avoiding me when I moved in, he always used to run away. She found that she was shaking as she turned back to the first page of the book, but given the photo… she had to know. Edgar settled himself on her shoulder, and she shivered. Recording important milestones during my time here. Much may be forgotten over a hundred years of preparation and research.
Position at university not questioned, research has been relatively easy to access. Integration is proving to be the difficult element. Sam smiled sadly at the implication behind the impassive wording, in its elegant, curled handwriting. From day one, it seemed he had difficulty blending in. Must find a way to communicate properly. There are many unspoken rules that govern communication here that I had not anticipated.
Ways of greeting and presenting oneself. I have discovered that the way I speak to people is overly familiar and considered impolite. There are tiers of familiarity and then underneath each of those, hundreds of considerations as to body language, volume, tone of voice, proximity.
Nobody touches each other, save those who are deeply intimate, or children. There is much to learn. Nobody touches each other. Sam looked up from the book for a moment, casting about for what she remembered about Mordrid. He certainly had never touched her, or given any indication that a lack of contact bothered him.
Mordrid kept himself closed off, his hands in his pockets, his eyes ever-observant. The full weight of what he had done was only just beginning to dawn on her. She could feel the edges of her understanding begin to coalesce in her mind, and the shape of it seemed immense, too large, too heavy. From her shoulder, Edgar gave a low-pitched coo and gently knocked his head against hers.
Have taken to night time studies. University faculty members and students alike have not taken well to my attempts at communication. More research in this area required.
Night studies will suffice in the meantime, and without distractions I am more efficient in this area. However, certain routines need to be established. Mortal bodies require more maintenance than anticipated. Edgar is doing his best to help; he has always been a loyal friend. Routines have proven difficult to establish. Mortal bodies are strange and finicky and require constant sustenance and rest.
Briefly lost consciousness at the State Library earlier today while picking up some old papers on cult activity. Samantha is not like a lot of others around here. I believe being a widow may give one a unique perspective on society, one that perhaps does not hang so adamantly on unwritten rules that must be followed, many of which hinge on the roles of men and women, the two genders this society appears to be separated into.
She seems to have an interest in my work, and it is gratifying to have somebody to share it with. The Monitor has noted I will need to keep especially close tabs on the appearance of radioactivity. Can confirm - several researchers appear to be in the early stages of theories that may lead them there. Will need to survey closely. After this entry was an aborted sentence, crossed out. Sam squinted and held the book closer to her face, and made out the words-.
Took Samantha to the park for some fresh air. There was a string quartet playing there. The music on Earth is utterly charming. Sought out Samantha for another outing. She asked me what my intentions are. Unsure as to what she meant. She seemed disappointed by my confusion, and would not explain why.
I do not know nearly enough about these people to ascertain my error. I finally have my answer. My behaviour here is considered a form of courting. Every time I believe I am beginning to get the hang of life here, I am dealt another missed detail. I suppose our relationship must be as frustrating to her as it is to myself.
I had not considered courtship, and it is discouraged by all of the sorcerer guardians and the Monitor. Discouraged, but not forbidden. Perhaps it will be a good way to integrate myself into the way of life here. Sam drew in a shaky breath. She had an inkling of where this was heading, like standing on train tracks and seeing a pinprick of light in the distance, feeling the sleepers beneath your feet start to shake.
Have been remiss in my research. On October the 4th, I entered into a marriage with Samantha, and that has largely taken up my time while I have been down here, though I continue my work at night as much as I am able.
There have been a number of necessary changes; I have had to hide the artefacts from home, the pieces of equipment I require to contact The Monitor and access my powers. She cannot know what I truly am. The Monitor is displeased too, and warns me constantly of what may happen should she discover why I am truly here. Humans are unpredictable when faced with the unknown.
All these things, and yet - companionship is good. We are happy together, and she seems pleased with our matching. She tells me she has been starved for kindness for too long, and it seems an affliction that many of the people living here suffer from.
There was not a lot more on Samantha after that. Instead, his words became more descriptive, his delight in what he was discovering leaking through the pages as his research into magical activity on earth continued.
She flipped past page after page, until she was nearly halfway through the book. It seemed that Mordrid had, at some point, taken to jotting down only his most important milestones and discoveries, rather than keeping an account of every single detail. It made sense - in between all the rest of the books and binders in his collection that documented the bulk of his work, this was nothing but a set of reminders.
When Edgar finally croaked at her to stop, the dates read Samantha looked very deeply into my eyes this morning and asked me why I have not aged a day in the last twenty years. I think I may have to. The sentence ended with an ink blot, like he had held his pen to paper for a very long time but had been unable to finish the sentence.
Sam felt numb with the realisation of what was to come, her hands cold and her heart pounding as she read on. I need to get these thoughts down onto paper before they threaten to crowd everything else out of my mind. Monitor has made his decision. Samantha cannot be told of my secret - I cannot put my mission in jeopardy this early when I still have many decades before Kabal is fated to return.
I have more work to do, more history to document, and I have been ignoring the reality of this for far too long. I cannot stay anywhere for long stretches of time. I cannot let myself be known because one day, inevitably, somebody will notice that I do not age. It is the right thing to do
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