Gilda Berger

'''POTENTIAL SPOILER WARNING: YOU ARE CURRENTLY VIEWING INFORMATION ABOUT A SUSPECT IN ONE OF THE INVESTIGATIONS. IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED THE ANGEL OF DEATH CASE YET, IT'S BEST TO AVOID THIS PAGE. '''

Gilda is one of the many passengers you can pick up in Night Call. She is also a suspect in the Angel of Death case.

Passidex entries

 * You have met Gilda.
 * You have met Jesus Christ.
 * Gilda told you about the City of God.
 * To each their own visions...

Her last entry appears to be bugged and will not unlock even after you talk about your visions.

Transcripts


Night 1
TBA



Night 2
« I have to go to Bastille. It's an emergency... »

 SPOILER WARNING: This is the final night of the case.

NOTE: THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS - THIS HAS A SOMEWHAT COMPLICATED CONVERSATION PATH STRUCTURE.

You park a few metres away from your next passenger. Your heart starts beating wildly. You glance at the bug hidden next to the gear shaft. The back door opens, creaks a little and slams. The young woman smiles at you.

GILDA: "Good evening sir."

Her squeaky, high-pitched voice gives you the shivers. You start having doubts... This fiery slip of a girl... a killer? Yet... you think she is. And you have to be careful.

« Where to? »   « Having a good evening? »   (Nod.)

GILDA: "Not really... I was going to bed when I got a call from work."

Her delicate features grow dark for a brief instant.

« Nothing serious, I hope? »   « And where is it you are going? »   « To the Opera, right? »   (Say nothing more.)

GILDA: "I don't know yet..."

Her voice sounds far-off, embarrassed... suspicious.

GILDA: "Garnier Opera House, please."

She freezes.

GILDA: "How did you know that?"

HOUSSINE: "I... uhhh... I think I got the info from dispatch."

GILDA: "Hold on... Let me handle this..."

She wasn't speaking to you... Her expression is harsh.

GILDA: "Yeah, maybe... I did give my destination when I ordered the taxi..."

A moment of silence. You start to wonder if she can hear your heart pounding.

GILDA: "Well then... Garnier Opera House it is."

HOUSSINE: "Very well..."

TBA

She waits for you to say something for a while, before breathily uttering...

GILDA: "Garnier Opera House, please."

You nod and start driving. You feel a strange tingling sensation on the back of your neck. You glance in the rearview mirror. Your passenger is staring intensely at you. When she starts speaking, her voice is filled with resentment.

GILDA: "It's odd when you think about it... that call in the middle of the night... a problem at the Opera. Something so serious, everyone on the crew has to come..."

She looks outside. Her voice suddenly becomes more syrupy.

GILDA: "I almost never see Paris this late at night... We prefer to work during the day... Although, for the scenery crew, it makes no difference whether it's day or night out. But there's a sense..."

She pauses briefly. She's listening to the voice.

GILDA: "Yes..."

She smiles... more of a smirk really. Mechanical. Fake. Your hands tighten around the steering wheel. Maybe that's the trick: keep her talking for as long as possible so she doesn't realise you're not quite going to Bastille...

GILDA: "We can sense when the sun is set, when something is not quite right..."

« It's the same for me. »   « Oh, really? »   « You been working there long? »   (Say nothing.)

GILDA: "Really?"

HOUSSINE: "Yes... I know Paris at night so well that... that I can hear it coming and going... I can hear it wake up."

GILDA: "I like the idea that it's Paris at night that wakes up and not the other way around. Like a bat that..."

GILDA: "Yes... it's like electricity... like dizziness... like..."

GILDA: "For a few years, yes... My father still works there. We build sets together."

« That must take a lot of time. »   « That must be fascinating. »   « That must be incredible. »   (Say nothing.)

GILDA: "All day, every day."

GILDA: "Incredibly. You can't last in this field if you're not passionate about it. We don't count out hours. Every detail is... crucial."

TBA

TBA

You remember Busset's instructions... buy yourself time. Buy. Yourself. Time.

GILDA: "In some ways, I feel privileged. I..."

She turns away, suddenly very distant... maybe even relieved to not be speaking to you anymore.

GILDA: "Who... What?"

She suddenly moves in an odd, jerking manner. Her eyes bore into you.

GILDA: "Busset?"

You feel your breath catch in your throat. She watches you.

GILDA: "Who are you? Who is... Busset?"

Something in the air shifts in the moment right before a knife appears in her hand. You've spent enough time investigating her to know it's the murder weapon. The scar on your thigh begins to burn. You start calculating the rest of the trip at lightning speed.

You're not far now. If you manage to keep the discussion going... you might just make it out alive. (FIRST TIME & FOURTH)

You're halfway there... If you manage to buy yourself some more time and keep her talking, you might just make it out alive. Perhaps... (THIRD TIME)

GILDA: "ANSWER ME! WHO IS BUSSET?"

« What are you talking about? »   « I don't know! »   « A policewoman... »

GILDA: "Jesus told me "Busset" is listening to us. Who is Busset? WHO IS BUSSET?"

You're shaking.

« I don't know what you're talking about! »   « She's a policewoman... »

GILDA: "Now, why are you lying to me??"

Her pupils dilate. She freezes. You just bought another precious second.

GILDA: "Why? Jesus knows everything! He knows you're lying!"

GILDA: "The police? They know?"

The blade shines. There's something about the metal that... hypnotises you. You don't want to feel that pain again. For a second, you consider throwing the car into a ditch... But you're not going fast enough... the impact would be minimal... and your passenger is too close.

GILDA: "Jesus..."

She looks lost, far away... You're buying time. Second by second.

GILDA: "Jesus said... that I shouldn't be scared... that they'd never understand..."

« I was only asked to pick you up. »   « They made me help them. »   « I've been investigating you. »

GILDA: "Why do you insist on lying?"

Tears are forming at the corners of her eyes.

GILDA: "WHY?"

HOUSSINE: "Well, fine then!..."

« The police made me help them. »   « I've been checking up on you (UNCHECKED). »

GILDA: "They made you?"

You nod your head, shaking all the while.

GILDA: "Oh no... I didn't mean to put you into such a state..."

GILDA: "You?"

HOUSSINE: "Yes... for a week now. I..."

A chill cuts you off.

Her voice grows deeper, darker, more muffled...

GILDA: "There's no reason to be scared, you know? If I kill you, it will be painless. Jesus... Jesus tells me WHERE to strike and WHO to strike. No one ever suffers. He promised me."

The scar on your thigh says differently...

« And yet, I felt pain. »   « Jesus will put you in jail. »   « You're crazy. »   (Say nothing.)

GILDA: "Pain?"

She recoils.

GILDA: "You... You're the guy I saw the night... Jesus killed that actress."

HOUSSINE: "Saw?"

GILDA: "I had to defend myself. I panicked. Jesus... Jesus was so angry with me..."

GILDA: "No... he promised me I wouldn't go to jail. He promised he'd protect me."

HOUSSINE: "The police are on your heels... They know where you are. Who you are."

GILDA: "No, no. That's impossible. He..."

GILDA: "Crazy? You think I'm crazy?? I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm not crazy. I... I..."

🠗

GILDA: "Wait..."

She lifts her head and listens to her imaginary friend. You calculate the remaining trip time...

You'll be there soon... soon... yes... (FIRST TIME & FOURTH)

You should be able to hold on for a few more minutes... (THIRD TIME)

GILDA: "Do... do they know about Jesus?"

« Yes. »   « No. » « I don't know. »

In a matter of seconds, she loses her composure.

GILDA: "They can't know... there's no way... he swore..."

She sighs and says, in a whisper...

GILDA: "They can't find out... They'll think I'm crazy. I'm NOT crazy. Do you understand?"

You nod.

GILDA: "Ouch!"

She leans forward abruptly... Her voice changes again, becomes harsher. She starts talking to Jesus.

GILDA: "Stop shouting! I can't even hear what I'm saying... Give me... ONE second... NO! I don't want to listen to you... I want..."

She turns to you and the words pour out of her.

GILDA: "Sometimes, he... You know, sometimes, he asks me to do things I don't really get. At first, I found it weird that Jesus hates people so much. Then, I found out just how... horrible... people really are. Monsters."

Just a few more meters... (FIRST TIME & FOURTH)

You're almost there... a minute or so more... (SECOND & THIRD TIME)

GILDA: "So, I followed the orders he gave me. He told me exactly what to do, step by step. He told me to get the key out of the mailbox... there was a key in the mailbox. He told me where to hide in the shadows and which door hadn't been properly closed. He told me which tendon on the ankle to cut so they couldn't run away... where to slice so the blood would run and not splatter..."

You made it... (FIRST TIME & FOURTH)

A few meters more... (SECOND & THIRD TIME)

Her voice resonates in your ears.

GILDA: "He even told me what I needed to leave behind so the police would never find me... Cigarettes... hair... Every night, I felt peaceful... incredible... What a wonderful feeling. It's so great to feel useful. When I went to bed that night, I felt so incredibly... peaceful. So of course I agreed to follow him. Jesus, yes. Jesus! I followed Jesus and I..."

TEMP SUCCESS TEMP FAIL

She freezes. You've bought another second.

GILDA: "What? What did you say? Jesus told me that... there's still a chance we can get out of this. One last chance."

She tightens her grip around the blade. Nods her head. You're so close to the meeting point. Maybe there's some way you can...

« Wait! »   « I have kids! »   « You know, I killed someone too... »   (Say nothing.)

It's as if she didn't even hear you.

GILDA: "Just stop... yes... I understand... if he dies, I won't go to prison... You're right."

Without so much as a glance at you, like she is elsewhere, she comes at you with the knife. Over and over... the blade goes in and out of your back. Icy metal. Lukewarm blood. A sudden impression of levity... of the soul escaping. The taxi slows down. The young woman in the back starts speaking to you in a low voice.

GILDA: "I never understood why people... when they look death in the eye... think they're miraculously going to be ok."

The taxi comes to a complete stop.

GILDA: "Do you believe in God?"

You have trouble breathing.

GILDA: "Answer me..."

(Tell the truth.) (Lie.) « Go fuck yourself... »   (Say nothing.)

HOUSSINE: "Yes..."

GILDA: "You should have prayed before. Not now. It's too late... Jesus says it's too late."

HOUSSINE: "No."

GILDA: "How terribly sad... I would have enjoyed teaching you how. But Jesus... Jesus wants what is best for you."

TBA

TBA

The... entire taxi... flutters... and stops. You can feel the knife under your skin. To be frank, it doesn't hurt anymore. Nothing hurts anymore.

GAME OVER. YOU DIED.

She looks up, shocked.

GILDA: "What?"

Her ear is hurting. She looks away.

GILDA: "Jesus is saying... slow down... he's saying that's not true. You didn't kill your brother. Why would you lie about that? Why?"

She moves towards you. A sudden movement.

THIS RESULTS IN TEMP SUCCESS

TBA

At that very moment, you turn onto the street where the cops are waiting. Headlights come on. The harsh lights flood the façade of an old black church. Your passenger yelps in surprise from the back seat. You hear the knife fall to the floor, somewhere between the seats. You brake hard. The back door opens, letting a rush of icy cold air into the cab. You turn around to see your passenger. She's running. Climbing up the steps of the church. You hear her calling for help. Suddenly, she trips and falls, flopping awkwardly like a ragdoll. ... It takes a second for you to hear the cops' gunshots, to see the blood and understand she's dead.

Continued on Busset's page...

