Chapter 23: Masterpiece of a scene
(Arthur's POV)
I can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction as I watch the audience being pulled into my film's story. The scene where the human director wakes up to find his favorite unicorn's head in his bed is playing out, and the reaction is everything I'd hoped for.
The director's shriek echoes through the theater. "Ahh!!!" His hands and clothes are covered in blood, adding to the horror of the moment.
I hear whispers from the audience around me:
"That's very horrible..."
"I couldn't even imagine my favourite pet's head on my bed bleeding..."
"That is such a lowly thing to do..."
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. They're discussing the story, debating the methods of the Corleone family. Whether they approve or not doesn't matter - they're engaged. The plot has captured their attention, just as I'd intended.
***
(Major Pictures CEO??? POV)
Okay, I'll admit it. As a human, I came here expecting a trashy demon film. What I'm watching instead is not just good - it's remarkable.
Sure, the film isn't over yet, so I can't make a final judgment. But so far? It's doing a hell of a job keeping me - and probably everyone else - entertained.
And let me tell you, keeping me entertained by a demon film for 30 minutes is a miracle in itself.
Even "Pure Succubus," from that major demon studio, couldn't hold my interest for more than ten minutes, despite its surprising premise.
But this? A film made by an infamous, supposedly trashy demon prince of history? And I'm actually invested in the story? It's nothing short of miraculous.
As I watch the shocking scene with the unicorn head unfold, I find myself genuinely affected. The gasps and murmurs around me confirm I'm not alone.
Well, well. Looks like this little excursion to the so-called "trashy" demon film festival wasn't a waste of time after all.
As the CEO of the major film distributor in Southern Archipelago, I'm starting to see some real potential here. This "Demonfather" might just be worth picking up.
The story unfolds before me, and I find myself unexpectedly still engrossed. There's a scene where Connie, daughter of the oh-so-powerful Don Corleone, is being abused by her half-demon, half-human husband, Carlo. It's brutal, uncomfortable, and... surprisingly nuanced.
Connie, bless her demonic heart, keeps it all from her family.
Enzo's nervous tension is palpable as they stand there. A car passes by, causing Michael and Enzo to tense up, but it just drives on.
I find myself sighing in relief along with Michael and Enzo.
Just when I think it's over, the police arrive and interact with Michael and Enzo. One officer even slaps Michael across the face.
"Come on, Michael. Fight back!" the elf beside me hisses angrily.
I can't blame him; I feel angry on Michael's behalf too. But Michael just stands there, humiliation and anger in his eyes, without retaliating.
I smile slightly. That's right, Michael. Don't fight back. I'm glad he didn't act rashly. It's not the right move for his family.
"Tsk. He should've summoned the biggest fireball ever to put that police officer in flames," the elf grumbles.
I shake my head slightly. Sure, there might be others who agree with the elf, who want to see some flashy demon vengeance. But I bet there are just as many who appreciate Michael's self-control, who understand that sometimes, for the good of the family, you have to swallow your pride.
As the scene ends, I find myself more convinced than ever that this film is something special. It's not just about demon power fantasies or cheap thrills.
There's real depth here, real understanding of power dynamics and family loyalty.
I make a mental note to contact my lawyers first thing tomorrow. We need to secure the rights to this film before someone else snaps it up.
As the film progresses, I find myself increasingly impressed by Michael's self-control. It's a refreshing change from the typical demon characters we see in cinema, all fire and brimstone with no restraint.
But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't itching to see some payback. Michael's composure is admirable, sure, but a part of me - the part that's been conditioned by years of flashy action flicks - is eager for that moment of sweet revenge. If not from Michael, then maybe from the hot-headed Sonny.
And then it happens. A scene unfolds that can only be described as... well, a masterpiece.
Michael meets with Sollozzo and that same police officer who had the gall to slap him earlier. The tension is palpable as Michael excuses himself to the bathroom, retrieves a hidden gun, and returns.
What happens next is unlike anything I've ever seen in demon cinema. No flashy spells, no over-the-top action sequences. Just Michael, a gun, and two clean shots to the head as a train roars by, masking the sound.
The theater erupts in cheers. The elf beside me is on his feet, fist pumping the air. "Yes! That's it! That's what I'm talking about!"
I'm almost deafened by the reaction, but I can't blame them. This scene... it's something else. There's a simplicity to it, a brutal efficiency that sends chills down my spine. It's not about magical prowess or demonic strength. It's about decision, action, consequence.
As the implications of what we've just witnessed sink in, I can feel a wave of stunned appreciation ripple through the audience.
I lean back in my seat, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Excitement at what I've just seen. Anticipation for what's to come. And, if I'm being honest, a touch of fear. Not of the violence on screen, but of the impact this film could have.