It’s an empty warehouse.
One giant room.
It could be more.
So it is.
And when they drag in the girl, they don’t place her in a warehouse. They place her in a tiny room.
It’s a small, uncomfortable room with polished white tiles, shiny uncomfortable metal chairs and an equally uncomfortable metal table.
They lock her handcuffs to the table, then leave.
It has the perfect green tint of an interrogation room. The mirrored, one-way glass, rough cement walls and grimy small white tiles enhance the decor; the slow “drip… drip…” from a nearby leak sets the mood.
The door clanks noisily as you step through it.
The girl looks up at you. You tsk.
“CUT!” You yell.
The girl is startled and scared. She has no clue what’s going on, and it’s not as if you’re about to tell her: she might break character – well, even more than she already has.
“Next take, don’t look up.”
You storm out.
The door slams shut.
For a moment, you stare at her through the mirrored glass.
Her brown hair pools around her face, obscuring her from you. She tries to move the hair away, but before they reach, her hands catch on the cuffs.
With as much drama as you can muster, you stride once more into the room.
She doesn’t look up.
You sit; not on the chair, but on the table.
She still doesn’t look up.
“The room is darker. Danker.”
You frown. You suppose her words are mysterious enough to be dramatic; you don’t cut scene right away, but…
“The tiles, once polished, are dirtier than ever. The table, once shiny, now battered. This chair – ”
She kicks violently, but can’t move. Her cuffs clank dully against the hard wood.
“ – Well, it’s wood now.”
Your scowl deepens.
You decide to put the law down. “You are not here to state the obvious. You are here for questioning in the murder of – ”
“I want a lawyer. Not a warehouse turned interrogation room turned dungeon.”
You smile grimly.
“You can’t always get what you want,” you respond. You lean over into her personal space.
She glares at you, and attempts to pull away, but the chains bind her hands fast to the stone wall.
You hiss into her ear.
“I always do.”