Chapter 53

Vote for me! Vote for the Three Rivers!

"Please, let me go... I beg you..."

James Franco, his face covered in blood, was tied to a sturdy chair, with a noose around his neck. The rope connected to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling was held in the hand of Carey Mulligan, whose face was splattered with blood. Her red coat was discarded to the side, and her black T-shirt stood out against the red and gray background of the room.

In front of her, James Franco struggled to turn his head, "Plea... please..."

The girl was unmoved, continuing to attach framed photos of young girls to the end of the rope.

As more and more items were tied to the rope, James Franco stretched his neck and gasped for air, making his final struggle, "It wasn't me, really! You have no evidence..."

"That's not important," Carey Mulligan replied coldly.

In the foreground, Murphy gave a close-up of the scene, and the temporarily set up camera dolly quickly slid to the side of James Franco, capturing a close-up of his face.

James Franco's face was covered in snot and tears, his voice weak, as if he had really been castrated.

The character he played had been castrated, but James Franco had captured Jeff's mindset well. He could torture others but was unwilling to give up his own life, trying everything to survive.

"Kill me," he said with his last strength, "you won't escape either."

"I told you, I'm a high-achiever," the girl said, still busy tying the frames, "I thought of this long ago. Your place is remote, no one saw me come here."

She finally looked up, coldly extinguishing his last hope, "I'm still a minor, I've never been fingerprinted, and I've never left any DNA. Even if I leave traces here, the police won't find me."

"And..."

As she spoke, Murphy adjusted the camera angle, and she turned to face James Franco, pointing to the reels of videotape on the table, "The police will be happy to see what you've filmed. Why would they go all out to solve a case for a scumbag like you?"

"I have one last thing to say," Carey Mulligan's speech quickened, "In hell, don't be a man, and don't be a pedophile!"

James Franco finally broke down, tears and snot streaming down his face, "Plea... plea... plea..."

His voice was so pitiful, so miserable, and his bloodied appearance evoked a sense of sympathy.

According to the conventions of mainstream films, the villain would receive some punishment and be handed over to the law, especially since the heroine was a minor.

But Murphy chose this project with a different approach. He didn't follow the original script's details or supposed themes. From the beginning, he portrayed a cold, twisted demon, reflecting the demon's hypocrisy through various scenes, and through Haley's investigative search, he showed that the demon had already corrupted several innocent girls. In the end, he wanted to give the demon a thorough punishment.

Cutting off the source of the demon's evil and sending him back to hell suited the atmosphere he wanted to create.

Just as Carey Mulligan never sympathized with James Franco, Haley wouldn't sympathize with Jeff. Ignoring his pitiful pleas, she quickly walked behind the chair and tied the largest frames to the rope. The top frame in the stack was Emily's photo.

The rope tightened instantly, the hanging chandelier swung violently, James Franco's eyes rolled back, and he kicked his legs, but he was tightly bound to the chair and couldn't muster the strength...

Carey Mulligan calmly put on her coat, packed her backpack, and walked towards the door, leaving a red back to the camera.

"Cut!" Murphy stood up from behind the camera and announced loudly, "Fruitvale Station, shooting is complete!"

"Yes!"

Carey Mulligan threw away the prop backpack and was the first to rush over, running to Murphy and hugging him, "My first movie is done!"

Murphy released Carey Mulligan and began hugging the other crew members, who were also very happy. The end of shooting meant they would receive their final payment.

"Hey, Murphy!"

James Franco, covered in blood, walked over, not giving Murphy a chance to dodge, and hugged him. The special tomato sauce instantly stained Murphy, who laughed with a wide mouth, "The tomato sauce you bought smells terrible. I've endured it long enough, now it's your turn."

Murphy didn't mind, patting James Franco's back twice, "I hope we can work together again."

He winked, "Carey said that if I have another movie, she will definitely come back."

Hearing this name, James Franco immediately followed Murphy's gaze and saw Carey Mulligan staring at him, her lips curled into a strange smile.

"This..." James Franco quickly averted his gaze, "Let's... talk about it later."

Finally, Murphy walked to Jessica Chastain's side. As he extended his hand, Jessica Chastain pointed to the red stains on his body and stepped aside.

Murphy shrugged, "When are you going to New York?"

"Once you settle my pay," Jessica Chastain said naturally, "Without money, I can't even buy a plane ticket."

"I'll have someone settle it with you as soon as possible."

With the film shooting complete, their employment relationship also came to an end. Murphy knew Jessica Chastain's ambition was to become an actress, not to work behind the scenes, so her departure was natural.

There was no formal wrap party or wild celebration. After Murphy thanked each crew member verbally, the house gradually quieted down as they began to pack up the equipment, clean up, and preserve the film reels...

Murphy specifically went to the temporary warehouse to check. Most of the rented equipment was undamaged, and the 240 reels of film he had purchased were slightly better than expected, with nearly 20 reels remaining. This meant he had shot about 1000 minutes of footage.

"Hey, Murphy."

Carey Mulligan, now makeup-free, approached, "What are you doing?"

"Worrying," Murphy sighed, "I have to cut a 90-minute film from 1000 minutes of footage. Just thinking about it gives me a headache."

"Then..." Carey Mulligan looked up at him, "Will you be very busy next?"

Murphy nodded, and she continued, "When I get back to Los Angeles, if I have questions, can I still come to you for advice like before?"

Her eyes held an unmasked hope, and Murphy, without much thought, made a gesture of calling, "You know my number."