บท 10: Filming Locations
As Firfel finished her scene, I found myself nodding approvingly. Was I biased because of her elven beauty? Maybe. But you know what? In this business, sometimes you've got to trust your gut.
Klein started with the usual spiel. "Okay, that's a good performance. We'll contact you if we—"
I cut him off. "No need to keep her waiting. I've made my decision."
The whole crew looked at me like I'd grown a second head. George leaned in, whispering, "We're rejecting her already?" Poor guy thought I was about to give Firfel the boot, same as all the others.
I could see Firfel's face cloud over. Clearly, she'd overheard George's not-so-subtle whisper. Time to clear the air.
Clearing my throat, I looked Firfel straight in the eye. "Firfel Evergreen, you'll be cast for the role of Kay Adams. That's my decision."
The tension in the air evaporated. Firfel's frown melted away, replaced by a barely-there smile that spoke volumes. She was trying to play it cool, but I could tell she was over the moon.
As Firfel left, I could feel the team's eyes on me. "What?" I shrugged. "Sometimes you just know."
***
Days rolled by, and our ragtag cast was starting to come together. Our latest addition? Kyle Brook, our Luca Brasi.
He is a demon straight out of your worst nightmares, standing at a towering 6'5", built like a brick hellhouse.
Kyle was what we called a 'behemoth' - not the actual giant monsters, mind you, just a particularly imposing breed of demon.
When Kyle lumbered into the audition, I swear the ground shook. The guy was naturally strong, perfect for Luca's intimidating presence.
But here's the kicker - in our looks-obsessed industry, Kyle couldn't catch a break. He wasn't "handsome" enough for the camera, apparently.
As you can see, even in the demon world, we're slaves to human beauty standards. Gotta appeal to the international market, they say. Humans are top dogs now, so we dance to their tune.
Kyle's "stiff" acting was just the final nail in his showbiz coffin.
When I announced Kyle was our Luca, you should've seen the looks on everyone's faces. You'd think I'd just suggested we film the whole thing underwater or something.
"Boss," one of the crew ventured, "are you sure about this? Kyle's not exactly... good looking."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Good looking? Guys, he's playing a terrifying mob enforcer. Kyle doesn't need to be pretty - he needs to be scary. And look at him! He's perfect!"
Kyle, bless his heart, looked like he couldn't believe his luck. "You... you really want me for this?" he rumbled, his voice like gravel in a blender.
I grinned up at him. Way up. "Kyle, my friend, you were born for this role. Just... try not to accidentally squash any of the other actors, okay?"
As Kyle left, practically floating despite his massive size, I turned to the team. "See? This is what Hellfire Studios is all about. We don't just think outside the box - we smash the box and build something new."
George shook his head, but he was smiling. "You're crazy, you know that?"
"Crazy like a fox," Rocky chimed in. "Or should I say, crazy like a demon?"
I couldn't help but grin at their bewildered faces. "Well, being crazy enough is what'll set us apart in this industry. You'll see - craziness is just another way of life."
My team exchanged glances, nodding along like they were humoring a madman. Which, let's face it, they probably were. But hey, in this business, a little madness goes a long way.
***
One more week of chaos, coffee, and questionable decision-making later, we finally had our cast for "The Demonfather." And let me tell you, it was a real motley crew.
As for extras? Well, my team suddenly developed a burning passion for being on camera. They were falling over themselves to volunteer, even if it meant juggling their regular jobs. Not that I was complaining - their enthusiasm saved us a bundle, and hey, no one could accuse me of employee abuse. Win-win, right?
Our cast was shaping up to be quite the colorful bunch. Take Johnny Lake, our Tom Hagen. He's a Devilkin, a breed of demon known for being sharp as a tack and twice as crafty.
One look at his sly grin and you knew he was perfect for the role of the family's smooth-talking consigliere.
Then there's Charles Flirt playing Sonny. He's what we call a Scale Demon - still humanoid, but with patches of scales that make him look like he's wearing the world's weirdest body armor. But the guy's got swagger for days, just what we needed for the hotheaded eldest son.
And of course, our Kay Adams - Firfel Evergreen. An elf in a sea of demons, standing out like a sore thumb in the best way possible. Perfect for the outsider who captures Michael's heart.
The rest of the cast? Let's just say I outdid myself. Each one chosen with the precision of a demonic ritual... and about the same level of risk.
Now, with our band of misfits assembled, it was time for the next challenge: finding spots in our hellish landscape that could pass for my taste.
***
After three days of scouting that felt more like a demonic scavenger hunt, we finally nailed down our locations.
First up, we've got the Neighborhood of Gloomstone. Similar to Brooklyn, but with a hellish twist. Narrow streets packed tighter than sardines in a can, brownstone buildings that have seen better millennia, and demons of all shapes and sizes going about their business. The air's thick with the scent of brimstone and questionable street food. It's perfect for our gritty street scenes.
Then there's the Crimson Quarter. This is our Little Italy stand-in, but trust me, it's anything but little. It's the stomping ground of the Morningstar royal family - yeah, my family. But hey, if we're going for authenticity in showing a crime family's turf, might as well use the real deal, right?
For our industrial scenes, we've got the Abyssal Docks. It's part of Gloomstone, but it's got its own charm - if by charm you mean rusted cranes, murky waters, and the constant feeling that you might get shoved into said murky waters if you look at someone wrong. It's perfect for those tense waterfront meetings.
But the real gem? That's the Great Neck. It's our Long Island equivalent, about 17 kilometers from Gloomstone.
Now, this place is a goldmine for us, and not just because it's seen better days. There's this estate we can rent for cheap - belongs to some fallen noble family.
The whole Great Neck area is like stepping back in time. While the rest of Ferland City is racing towards the future, this place is stuck in the past. Houses look like they haven't been updated in a century, which is exactly what we need.
And in Infernal Heights? Oh boy, we've hit the motherlode. Old villas and manors that look like they're one stiff breeze away from collapsing. They're practically begging to be used as a mob family headquarters.
As we wrapped up our location scouting, I couldn't help but grin. "Guys," I said, looking around at my ragtag team, "I think we just found our perfect backdrop for the Demonfather's world."
George scratched his head. "Boss, how are we going to make this look like the setting from your script? It's looking like a... backward place."
I laughed. "George, my friend, that's the beauty of it. We're not trying to recreate some modern city. We're building our own world. The Demonfather will be set in a fictional city that exists only in our twisted imaginations."
Rocky nodded approvingly. "Kid's got a point. It's not about copying something that doesn't exist here. It's about capturing the feel of a crime-ridden city."
"Correct," I chimed in. "We're going to blend these demonic locations with the vibe of a classic mob story. It'll be something no one's ever seen before."
As we headed back to our warehouse-turned-studio, my mind was racing with possibilities. We had our cast, we had our locations. Now all we needed was to actually make the damn movie.
"Alright, guys," I announced, feeling that familiar surge of excitement. "Tomorrow, we start turning this crazy dream into reality. We're going to create a whole new world on film!"
The cheer that went up could've woken the dead. And in this city, it probably did.
บท 11: Action!
The next day dawned, and our little warehouse was buzzing like a hive of caffeinated bees.
We'd cobbled together our filming equipment, and by some miracle (or perhaps demonic intervention), it was all holding together. George and I had outdone ourselves, really.
We'd managed to rig up working mics and lighting setups that looked only slightly like they might spontaneously combust.
But the real pride and joy? Our cameras. While juggling auditions and prep work, George and I had somehow found the time to build two more color cameras.
They weren't pretty, mind you - they looked like something you'd find if you crossed a junkyard with a mad scientist's lab - but they worked.
Our crew of fresh-faced graduates was stepping up too. Despite their lack of experience, they were taking charge, coordinating everything from shot setups to coffee runs with surprising efficiency.
Maybe there was something to be said for youthful enthusiasm after all.
Now, about the story of the Demonfather itself. I'd made some... adjustments. Using real demon clan names seemed like a fast track to getting us all turned into hellhound chow. Exiled prince or not, I wasn't about to paint a target on our backs.
Our first shooting location was the Shadow Estate, perched at the top of Infernal Heights like a brooding vulture.
The place had seen better days - probably about a century ago - but we didn't have the budget for a full renovation. Enter Firfel, our unexpected savior. With a wave of her hand and some elven magic, she'd transformed the dusty old manor into something that actually looked habitable. In just an hour, no less. I made a mental note to give her a raise... once we actually started making money.
Just outside the manor, we'd set up what could generously be called "tents" - if you squinted and had a vivid imagination.
Inside these flimsy excuses for shelter, our makeshift makeup team was working their magic on the cast.
When Rocky emerged from his tent, I had to do a double-take. The transformation was... well, impressive didn't quite cover it.
He looked every inch the Don Vito Corleone we needed - if Vito had been a demon, that is. Rocky's red, reptilian eyes and vampire-like teeth added an otherworldly touch to the character.
It wasn't surprising, really. Rocky was a Vampire Demon, after all. No horns or tail or scales for him - just pale skin that made him look like he'd never seen the sun.
Rocky caught my eye and sauntered over, his walk a perfect blend of elderly caution and quiet power. It was clear he'd been practicing.
"What do you think, my friend?" he asked, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "Do I look the part?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Rocky, old pal, you've got a talent for this acting gig." And it was true.
Sure, I'd tweaked the role a bit to fit Rocky's natural personality, but the essence of the Don was still there. It was like the character had been waiting inside Rocky all along, just needing an excuse to come out.
The rest of the cast emerged from their tents, each one a perfect blend of demonic features and mob style.
"Alright, guys," I called out, clapping my hands to get everyone's attention. "This is it. The beginning of our film. First scene is in Don Vito's study. Let's make it happen."
As we all filed into the manor, I couldn't help but feel a mix of nerves and exhilaration.
I took one last look around at my motley crew and cast - all dressed up and ready to play make-believe.
"Quiet on set," I called out, trying to sound like I knew what I was doing. "And... action!"
The moment I called "Action!", it was like flipping a switch. The crew sprang into motion, cameras rolling, and our actors transformed before my eyes.
Richard, a middle-aged demon we'd snagged for the role of Amerigo Bonasera, took center stage.
I've kept the original family names from The Godfather - no sense messing with perfection - but I'd taken some creative liberties with the locations. Gloomstone was now "Manhattan", Crimson Quarter became "Little Underworld", and Abyssal Docks? Meet "Brooklyn Docks". Sure, these places didn't exist in our world, but that was the beauty of fiction, right?
Richard launched into his monologue, his voice dripping with emotion. "I believe in Empirica. Empirica has made my fortune. And I raised my daughter in Empirican fashion. I gave her freedom, but I taught her to never dishonor the family. She found a boyfriend. Not a demon..."
As he continued, describing his daughter's abuse, I could almost feel the anger radiating off him. "Now she will never be beautiful again," he finished, his voice barely above a whisper.
I glanced over at Rocky, who was looking a bit lost. He caught my eye, silently pleading for help. I gave him an encouraging nod, mouthing "Remember our rehearsals." It was all I could do not to cross my fingers and pray to whatever demon gods were listening.
Rocky seemed to steel himself, then subtly nodded back. He gestured to Charles, our Sonny, to bring Bonasera a drink. The movement was smooth, natural - every inch the Don we needed him to be.
"Sorry..." Richard mumbled, accepting the drink with shaking hands. He took a sip, his eyes never leaving Rocky's face.
I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning. Richard was nailing it. It was a shame he'd never landed a big role before - the guy had talent.
As the scene continued, I felt a mixture of pride and disbelief. We were actually doing it. Making a movie. A demon mob movie, sure, but a movie nonetheless.
"Cut!" I called out, once the scene wrapped. "That was... that was great, guys. Really great."
The tension in the room broke, replaced by grins and excited chatter. Rocky let out a breath I think he'd been holding since we started rolling.
"How'd I do, kid?" he asked, his usual gruff demeanor returning now that he was out of character.
I clapped him on the shoulder. "Rocky, my friend, I think you just became a star."
As we set up for the next shot, I couldn't help but feel a surge of optimism. We had a long way to go, sure, but if this first scene was any indication, we might just pull this crazy scheme off.
Watch out, demon world. The Demonfather is coming, and he's bringing a whole new kind of family business with him.
Oh, right. I should probably mention that "Empirica" is the big kahuna of human nations in our world. Anyway, back to our little filming.
Richard was really getting into his groove now. His voice trembled with barely contained rage as he continued, "I report it to the police, like a good Empirican. These two boys were brought to trial. The judge sentenced them to three years in prison... Suspended sentence. Suspended sentence! They went free that very day..." His face contorted with disgust. "I stood there like a fool... And those two bastards... They smiled at me. Then I said to my wife, 'For justice, we must go to the Corleone'."
I held my breath as Rocky's cue approached. This was the moment of truth. Rocky shifted in his chair, his hand reaching out to pet the demon cat in his lap. I had to stifle a chuckle - as if I'd forget the cat. That furball was practically a supporting character in its own right.
"Why did you go to the police? Why didn't you come to me first?" Rocky rumbled, his voice low and gravelly, every inch the Don we needed him to be.
I felt my heart soar. Rocky was nailing it. The hesitation from earlier was gone, replaced by a quiet confidence that practically oozed power.
The scene continued, each line delivered with a precision that made me want to pinch myself. Was this really happening? Were we actually pulling this off?
As Richard delivered his final plea and Rocky gave his measured response, I could barely contain my excitement. When the last line was delivered, I waited a beat, savoring the moment before calling out, "Cut!"
The room erupted into a flurry of movement and chatter. Rocky slumped in his chair, the weight of the Don falling away from his shoulders. Richard wiped his brow, looking both exhausted and exhilarated.
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