|
|
Lazy Lion
|
Fuquay
Fright Fest '04 Short Story Contest Winners
The Method
Ginny’s bloodcurdling scream stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
“How was that?”
Jerry wrinkled his lip, stopping just short of a sneer. “Not believable. It’s too contrived, Gin. It’s a carbon copy of every other scream queen’s work. No one who’s heard real pain, real terror, is going to buy it. You’ve got to do better if you want to be remembered for Eddie Meets His Match.”
“Four,” she added.
“Right, right….but everyone knows the first three films in a series are just warm ups. Wasn’t Halloween Four the best out of the lot?” He nodded knowingly, tapping his finger on the side of his nose, thinking. He strode briskly across the room. “Okay…listen again.”
He pulled back the drape from a little alcove to the side of the large room, and promptly recoiled, hand over his nose. “Jesus God you smell!”
The girl had been there for 3 days now. If idiot Ginny didn’t catch on soon, he was going to have to find yet another demo model for her to learn from. “Stanislavski and Strasburg are turning in their graves,” he muttered as he reached for the girl’s shackled hands, pulling her into the room by her handcuffs. The girl whimpered low in her throat and thrashed against her bonds weakly. The first time they’d done this she’d been much feistier, had even bitten Jerry when he’d taken off her gag, leaving a large crescent shape on the back of his well-manicured hand. Amazing how 72 hours of pain and humiliation can change attitudes, he thought.
He hunched over the girl, lifting her shirt and running a practiced hand along her ribs.
“Just sit still….this will hurt a bit.” He reached behind him, grabbing the tire iron and aiming carefully. “Now listen, Gin.” His hand came down, the iron landing expertly against one particularly fragile rib. The girl let out a pitiful moaning scream, fraught with true agony as the newly broken rib turned inside her and punctured her lung. The scream died away on a hiss of lost air. He grinned and turned to Ginny.
“There! There…did you hear how the scream moved with the pain? Hear how it tapered off in the end as she realized she won’t survive much more of this? That will earn you an Oscar Nom! Did you hear the difference?”
Ginny chewed at her pouty bottom lip. “I….I think so. Could you do it one more time though? I think I’d have it if I could just hear it one more time.”
Jerry sighed inwardly and raised the iron once more, resisting the urge to use it on Ginny herself. That would be true method acting. One more time. It had been two weeks of one more time. He rolled his eyes. He should’ve become a doctor like his mother wanted. Coaching starlets was just too f**king painful. ©2004 Muirae Hill | |
|
|
