A/N: I couldn't help writing this one, however I only decided to upload this by a friend's request to see it. I'm not entirely sure about this...
The lights flicker on in several seconds within the switch being pressed, illuminating the warehouse. The four men walked further in, one of the staying behind to close the door, shutting the cool night breeze out. Footsteps rang trough the large room, shoes hitting concrete.
"So this the set?" a young man ask looking around then flipping through the script, re-reading his lines.
"it's the closest we could get to what I had in mind…" the oldest of the group says, un-buttoning his jacket, afterwards getting a chair from a table fairly nearby. He pulls it into it's place, checking a couple times if the positioning of the chair is just right, brushes trough his curls, without giving a glance to the group he motions for a young man with a seemingly naive and innocent aura around him to sit, then picks up some rope.
"I'll tie you to the chair so you could get into character, alright?"
"Yeah, sure. Honestly it's all up to you, Tarantella." the youngster says with a smirk and Benton mimics it. The armature director mutters a 'good' before binding the man to the chair, placing his copy of the script with the scene open in his lap and taking a step back.
"Frank, you should just lie down over there." Tarantella says, pointing approximately three steps away from the chair. With both actors in place, the two directors exchanged looks before nodding and giving the mark for the scene to begin. Seemingly the beginning pleased them, but as the lines went on Tarantella seemed displeased, his partner seemed largely annoyed.
"Jesus Christ! He cut my face— he cut off my ear! I'm deformed for life!" the young man moved against the ropes while the other tried to motion for him to calm down, however, soon those efforts seemed directed at the wrong person as Van Volkheim interrupted.
"No no no no!" he waved his hands around. "Your desperation doesn't feel right! It doesn't feel like you depend on what he's telling you." he approached the tied up man. "Allie, I'm sure you can do it, but maybe you should lose yourself in it a tad more?"
Tarantella steps up to Frank, thoughtfully looking around, his hands brushing past his jacket and resting on his hips.
"I might have an idea how to make this dynamic work." with a quick fluid motion he took out his gun and shot the actor in front of him in the stomach, Van Volkheim followed suit and took out his knife, slicing the shocked man's face…that wasn't enough, the scene had more to it and thus the Austrian man worked on cutting the youngsters ear off. As the scene was set Van Volkheim ordered for the action to begin. The actors merely whimpered out of pain and cursed them under their breath. The directors sighted when they realized this was getting nowhere. Benton shot Frank in the head, blasting his brain out while Van Volkheim slit the others throat, letting the blood run down and color his blue shirt.
"Quite a shame, I had hoped for these two to get further than this."
"Maybe we should look for a better casting agency?" Van Volkheim offered, not taking his eyes off of the blood puddle growing larger around Frank.
"I suppose." Benton muttered, bored. Something caught his curiosity as he watched the corpse. "How do you suppose human flesh taste like?"
"Benton, you know that has nothing to do with the movie."
"Alterations to the script can always be made…"
"Tsk tsk tsk… You truly are a horrible writer."