The story you are about to read is for entertainment purposes only. This was inspired by events that teenagers face every day, from then and now. It is not intended to encourage violent acts or to "glorify" murder. This has also been loosely inspired by the film "Natural Born Killers" and a history of violence that my country, America, has faced, primarily some school shootings. If you feel triggered by any violence, abuse, or self-harm...then please read something else. I promise this story will get better as it progresses.

Enjoy.

Prologue: The Project for Film Class

The screen was blue. Twenty seconds later a small horizontal triangle appeared at the top right corner, signaling that the tape was ready to play. The screen flickered once and then went black. A wave of static flashed briefly. A new color of blue was shown: the sky. The aim was then lowered down to the grass, dead in whatever glory it had left; it was winter. The person who was holding the camera didn't have a steady hand. There was no sound from the video.

A sudden cut to black.

When the next scene came up the quality was better. Whoever was watching this was greeted by a boy in the hallway of what appeared to be a high school. Behind him was a row of beige lockers that trailed all the way from one end of the hall to the other. What you would see then (the immediate attention-grabber) was that the boy's face was blurred out by pixels, as to protect his identity. He appeared gawky and was fairly short. A faded Yankees logo on his baggy white shirt that must've been at least two sizes too large. You couldn't tell if he was smiling, frowning or just standing there like a damn idiot.

"I'm getting bullied, and it really sucks. I need some help!"

There was something off about the way he said this. His voice reached a high pitch, and he didn't sound serious. That's when you realize… this was just bad acting on purpose. He was being the stereotypical "loser nerd."

The boy turned his head to the right and pointed down the hall.

"Oh my God!"

The camera turned to face the end of the hallway. After a few seconds of silence with the camera slightly shaking, two figures turned the corner. They were wearing trenchcoats and army boots. There was a small figure, a female, who no taller than 5'7". The one next to her was a boy, approximately 6'2". They took their time walking. As they grew closer you saw black sunglasses covering their eyes. The boy with the pixelated face watched carefully; based on his posture, he looked slightly intimidated.

Soon they were standing in front of him. Hands in the pockets of their trenchcoats. The taller boy adjusted his glasses.

"We'll help you out," the girl says, barely audible.

"Yeah," the boy piped up. "But it'll cost you…"

The nerd claps his hands together. "Anything!"

The girl looks at the camera, briefly breaking character. She then looks up at her partner and back at the nerd. "Okay. Here's the thing: we can't shoot them on school grounds. But they'll be out of your hair when we're done with 'em."

The tall one stands still, glancing over the situation. "Our fee is six hundred dollars per bully. Cash only. And you have to pay us in advance."

The nerd nods. "Absolutely!"

The girl smiles. "Great. We'll be in touch."

The pair turned to face away from the camera and started walking back in the direction in which they came from. The camera zooms in on the boy's back and the quality goes blurry for a split second. It pans over to the girl. The cameraman zooms out, catching them both in the same frame. As they did before, the pair take their time walking. They turn the corner and disappear.

The screen cuts to black again.

When the next scene appeared, a date was finally visible on the lower right corner: December 10, 1996. The sunlight was slightly peeking from the clouds; leftover bits of snow covered the pavement. They were in a parking lot this time- one can only assume that it was the parking lot of the school. The girl appeared on camera first, propping herself up on the trunk of a black Toyota. Hands still in her pocket, she was facing away from the camera. Trench coat still on.

"So what we got here is a couple of pricks who just couldn't leave [name bleeped out] alone," she says in monotone. "I hate pricks. That's why I took this job." She takes her hands out of her pockets. "[name bleeped out] paid us eighteen hundred dollars to kill these assholes. That's six hundred dollars per douchebag. Pretty sure he gave us all his life savings…"

She bites her lip, and you can tell she's trying not to laugh. She wasn't a professional actor. She was just a teenager. The camera cuts; apparently she wanted a redo. The scene repeats itself.

"That's six hundred dollars per douchebag. Pretty sure he gave us all his life savings. It's a pity. He seems like a good kid, but that's what also makes him an easy target."

The next scene showed the boy standing by the car, lighting a cigarette. He was without his trench coat this time but he still had on the sunglasses.

"When we first started with our services, we thought maybe… like, just stabbing these pricks to death. But guns are easier. If they run you can still get 'em. Doesn't matter what size the gun is; if it works, it works."

The audio cuts out after that. The boy is still talking but there's no sound. At one moment he also looks like he's about to laugh, however, he does a better job of hiding it. (In the years that followed, after these tapes were released, many have tried but failed to find the original audio.) The two of them appear onscreen again, side by side facing the camera. There's still no sound. At one point she looks up at him and appears to ask a question. He seems to respond with no, since he's seen shaking his head. They get into the black Toyota and, as they drive off, the camera glitches again with slight static.

The screen cuts to black.

A boy is seen walking down the sidewalk in an average neighborhood. The two ambush him as they emerge from behind a tree. They're holding fake guns, obviously, and the only sound that's heard in this scene (other than the birds chirping and some children playing in the distance) is the popping noise that's made when they squeeze the triggers. The boy who's "shot" has his face blurred with pixels, just like the nerd, and he lets out a forced cry of pain as he falls to the ground. The camera zooms in on his lifeless body, although you seem him move slightly.

The boy and girl give each other a high-five and get back in their car.

The screen cuts to black.

In the second to last piece of this footage, the camera opens to the boy. He's still wearing that damn trench coat except now the buttons are undone, revealing a dark green tee-shirt underneath with some sort of yellow printed on it. His sunglasses are off. He seems to be talking to himself, trying to remember his lines.

The girl's voice from behind the camera says: "Butch, are you ready now?"

He looks up. "Yeah… just keep recording. I got this."

He takes a deep breath and begins to scream at the camera. "No, you goddamn piece of bitch-ass shit… do NOT….." He bursts into laughter, unable to take himself seriously.

The camera cuts and he's given a second chance to do the scene over. "No, you goddamn piece of punk-ass shit… do NOT mess with that friggin' kid! If you do, I'll rip of your…. bahahaha!"

The girl laughs with him this time. The camera cuts off for a moment; they must've been getting themselves together because they'd been laughing pretty hard. The third and final try is when he nails it.

"No, you goddamn piece of punk-ass shit… do NOT mess with that friggin' kid! If you do, I'll rip off your goddamn head… and shove it so FAR up your friggin' ass… YOU'LL BE COUGHING UP DANDRUFF FOR FOUR FRIGGIN' MONTHS!"

The camera cuts to the girl. Her black hair hangs loose down her shoulders. She, too, has decided to keep her trench coat on, but to unbutton it. She reaches into the bookbag down at her feet and pulls out a small compact mirror.

The boy laughs. "What are you doing, Butterbutt?"

She rolls her eyes. "I think I have a zit…"

"You look fine. Come on. This is due for class on Friday and it's gonna take me a while to edit it."

She sighs and puts the mirror up. "Alright."

"Take your sunglasses off." She takes them off and hands them to him. "Ready?"

"Yeah…"

"And…. action!"

She explodes at the camera. "Look, I don't care WHAT you say… if you ever touch him again, I will friggin' kill you! I'm gonna pull out a goddamn shotgun and blow your damn head off… do you understand? YOU LITTLE WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAP!"

The camera cuts off.

The last bit of footage is what everyone flocks around for today. The two are shown in the school, standing by the doors of the library. They have their signature trench coats on; the girl is wearing a backwards baseball cap; neither of them have sunglasses; a few students with their faces blurred walk by before the scene starts, despite the camera already recording.

The nerd from before reappears. He looks at the camera and then looks at the pair.

"Thank you guys so much," he says in a shrill, fake voice. "You saved my life!" The two nod at him and he walks out of the shot.

The cameraman zooms in on the two.

The girl looks at the boy and she says: "You know what? That nerd's getting pretty annoying."

The boy nods. "Yeah. Should we kill him, Buttercup?"

She chuckles and responds with: "No doubt."

They walk out of the shot, following the nerd. You hear the nerd shriek. That's where it stops. The footage ends with white text popping up that says "PROPERTY OF THE TOWNSVILLE POLICE DEPARTMENT - CASE 918."