in all my life all i wanted was the keeping of someone like you
The video was posted to Youtube. It immediately got taken down for violating their Terms of Service, and the account was reported to the authorities. Most people thought it was a hoax. Some new movie or something. Others said it just felt too real. Either way, it went viral, even without Youtube's help. Then the news picked it up, and well... it became rather difficult to avoid.
A man stepped away from the camera, slowly coming into focus. The camera pans back, showing his hostages. There's a woman and two men, kneeling on the ground. Their faces aren't shown; they're hooded and gagged.
The camera pans back a bit further, and one can see the street. There isn't any traffic, but they're still out in the open. The woman sobs, falling to the ground, and a man with a black bandana over his face shuts her up with a rifle butt to her head. The woman's hood falls back, and blood can be seen dripping down the side of her face. She doesn't argue anymore.
"Filth," the unmasked man says, kicking her savagely. He turns to stare directly into the camera, ignoring the hostages for a moment.
"Friends," he says, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace. "Chicago. Here, I have before me an example of some of the filth..."
A piercing scream interrupts him, one of the men struggling against the gag. He is promptly shut up.
"Sorry about that," the man says, laughing. "They really do like to get in the way, don't they? Fucking cunts." He says the word as if it's endearing, a smile plastered onto his face.
He steps back, grabbing the woman's hair and yanking her head back. A knife comes out of nowhere, pressing against her neck. "Aren't you a good little cunt, aren't you?" he asks her, burying his face in her hair, breathing deeply. "Oh yes you are."
She screams, her sobs caught in the gag, but piercing nonetheless.
"Bitchface," he continues, stroking her hair. "If you keep screaming, Daddy's gonna hafta cut you."
His words only make the screams louder. The smile drops from his face, quickly replaced by anger. The knife presses further into her neck, blood dripping down slowly.
"You fucking cunt," he says, no love in the words this time. "You think you're afraid? You don't even know what afraid is." He digs the knife deep into her skin, twisting it, just wanting to hear her tortured screams. She deserves it at this point. He gave her a chance. He gave her a fucking chance.
Removing the knife, but holding her even closer, he manages to give another smile to the camera. "You see?" he asks. "We can't have bitches like this in Chicago. And just like this little self-satisfied WHORE, they're not fucking afraid. THEY'RE NOT AFRAID ANYMORE."
He turns, screaming the words in her ears, over and over.
"Oh, but I'll make them afraid," he says, switching back to stroking the woman's hair. Her blood is everywhere now, a sticky mess. "They'll learn to fear Chicago again. THEY WILL KNOW this IS NOT THEIR PLACE."
His breathing comes in small gasps as he thinks about it, his fingers tightening in the woman's hair, then yanking hard, exposing her neck.
"It'll all be fixed," he says, licking his lips. "So don't worry, Chicago. Don't worry. Daddy'll fix it. Daddy'll fix it all."
The first time, the knife doesn't cut deep enough. The woman just stares for a long moment, a shocked noise escaping her not quite perforated throat. The second cut, though, finishes the job. He spends a few moments just holding the lifeless body, stroking her hair some more.
"Because this is how it's going to be."
One of the men tries to use the distracted moment as a chance to escape. A burly man with a rifle shoots him in the head, skull and brain splattering on the lens.
"That just won't do," the man says, shaking his head slowly. He steps up to the camera, cleaning off the lens. He steps back, studying it for a few moments before finally turning his attention to the last man.
"Just you left, huh?" he asks. "Well, no. I won't be silly. There are plenty of scumbuckets like you roaming this city. But you're the last one in my pretty little hands. Do you want me to make it fast?"
The man stares up at him with pleading eyes.
"Oh, honeyfuck, don't be silly. Like hell I'm going to make it fast. What the fuck have you ever done to fucking deserve a fast death?" He kicks the man savagely in the chest. He kicks him over and over. The man coughs blood. He pleads. He tells the other how he has a family. How he hasn't hurt anyone. How he was good. How he was so very good.
Eventually, he's just blubbering, little spit bubbles that are more blood than spit foaming from his mouth. Then he's doing nothing at all, just lying there, unconscious.
"Well, we can't take too many precautions," the man says, pulling out a glock. He leans over, shooting the unconscious man between the eyes. He turns back to the camera, smiling again, and covered in blood.
"So don't worry, Chicago. Your friendly liberation force has the situation entirely under control. We'll clean your streets, and the best part is, we know who you are. We know. we know. And we're going to fucking kill your bitch ass. Sleep tight!"
[ Cue a reaction post. Have fun. Have at. Watch it on big TVs in front of stores like people do in movies. Show it to a loved one. Freak the fuck out. Have a party. Idek. ]
A man stepped away from the camera, slowly coming into focus. The camera pans back, showing his hostages. There's a woman and two men, kneeling on the ground. Their faces aren't shown; they're hooded and gagged.
The camera pans back a bit further, and one can see the street. There isn't any traffic, but they're still out in the open. The woman sobs, falling to the ground, and a man with a black bandana over his face shuts her up with a rifle butt to her head. The woman's hood falls back, and blood can be seen dripping down the side of her face. She doesn't argue anymore.
"Filth," the unmasked man says, kicking her savagely. He turns to stare directly into the camera, ignoring the hostages for a moment.
"Friends," he says, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace. "Chicago. Here, I have before me an example of some of the filth..."
A piercing scream interrupts him, one of the men struggling against the gag. He is promptly shut up.
"Sorry about that," the man says, laughing. "They really do like to get in the way, don't they? Fucking cunts." He says the word as if it's endearing, a smile plastered onto his face.
He steps back, grabbing the woman's hair and yanking her head back. A knife comes out of nowhere, pressing against her neck. "Aren't you a good little cunt, aren't you?" he asks her, burying his face in her hair, breathing deeply. "Oh yes you are."
She screams, her sobs caught in the gag, but piercing nonetheless.
"Bitchface," he continues, stroking her hair. "If you keep screaming, Daddy's gonna hafta cut you."
His words only make the screams louder. The smile drops from his face, quickly replaced by anger. The knife presses further into her neck, blood dripping down slowly.
"You fucking cunt," he says, no love in the words this time. "You think you're afraid? You don't even know what afraid is." He digs the knife deep into her skin, twisting it, just wanting to hear her tortured screams. She deserves it at this point. He gave her a chance. He gave her a fucking chance.
Removing the knife, but holding her even closer, he manages to give another smile to the camera. "You see?" he asks. "We can't have bitches like this in Chicago. And just like this little self-satisfied WHORE, they're not fucking afraid. THEY'RE NOT AFRAID ANYMORE."
He turns, screaming the words in her ears, over and over.
"Oh, but I'll make them afraid," he says, switching back to stroking the woman's hair. Her blood is everywhere now, a sticky mess. "They'll learn to fear Chicago again. THEY WILL KNOW this IS NOT THEIR PLACE."
His breathing comes in small gasps as he thinks about it, his fingers tightening in the woman's hair, then yanking hard, exposing her neck.
"It'll all be fixed," he says, licking his lips. "So don't worry, Chicago. Don't worry. Daddy'll fix it. Daddy'll fix it all."
The first time, the knife doesn't cut deep enough. The woman just stares for a long moment, a shocked noise escaping her not quite perforated throat. The second cut, though, finishes the job. He spends a few moments just holding the lifeless body, stroking her hair some more.
"Because this is how it's going to be."
One of the men tries to use the distracted moment as a chance to escape. A burly man with a rifle shoots him in the head, skull and brain splattering on the lens.
"That just won't do," the man says, shaking his head slowly. He steps up to the camera, cleaning off the lens. He steps back, studying it for a few moments before finally turning his attention to the last man.
"Just you left, huh?" he asks. "Well, no. I won't be silly. There are plenty of scumbuckets like you roaming this city. But you're the last one in my pretty little hands. Do you want me to make it fast?"
The man stares up at him with pleading eyes.
"Oh, honeyfuck, don't be silly. Like hell I'm going to make it fast. What the fuck have you ever done to fucking deserve a fast death?" He kicks the man savagely in the chest. He kicks him over and over. The man coughs blood. He pleads. He tells the other how he has a family. How he hasn't hurt anyone. How he was good. How he was so very good.
Eventually, he's just blubbering, little spit bubbles that are more blood than spit foaming from his mouth. Then he's doing nothing at all, just lying there, unconscious.
"Well, we can't take too many precautions," the man says, pulling out a glock. He leans over, shooting the unconscious man between the eyes. He turns back to the camera, smiling again, and covered in blood.
"So don't worry, Chicago. Your friendly liberation force has the situation entirely under control. We'll clean your streets, and the best part is, we know who you are. We know. we know. And we're going to fucking kill your bitch ass. Sleep tight!"
[ Cue a reaction post. Have fun. Have at. Watch it on big TVs in front of stores like people do in movies. Show it to a loved one. Freak the fuck out. Have a party. Idek. ]