SNUFF

Cindy Lawson

"Have you checked the bin yet?" Dustin Geller, the owner of the video shop interrupted me as I attempted to balance myself on two legs of the chair I was sitting in.

"Yep – emptied and back on the shelves," I said, bringing the legs of the chair down in a stomp.

"What about the Kensington's? Do they still have their rental?" Dustin asked, sitting in the chair at the opposite end of the counter. He was bored.

"I would assume yes because it isn't on the shelf." I pointed over towards the 'New Releases' section of the store, where an empty spot lay. It was funny enough because none of the movies in this store were new releases at all. I smiled at the irony of calling a movie from nearly 10 years ago a new release.

Dustin didn't say anything else, instead, he sat there and looked out the storefront window. Business wasn't bad but it wasn't exactly good either. In a town this small business was never really booming, it was consistent – consistent enough to stay open, that is. Dustin had been given the store after his father died and had been stuck trying to find new ways to "reinvent the wheel" as he would often say. He hated it here and often complained about being tied down to this town where nothing ever happened. He wasn't wrong either. Nothing happened here and if it did, all five hundred and some towns folks would meet at the community centre to discuss. That said, the last time we even had a community meeting was in 1990 – nearly thirty years ago – due to our previous town's mayor's sudden death. Since then nothing too problematic or important came up that was worth the opinion of the rest of the town.

"I thought you said you checked the bin." Dustin sighed, holding up a VHS tape from the drop-off box.

"It wasn't there when I checked it this morning," I said with a shrug. "Sorry." Dustin let out a tired sigh and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. Black circles lay under his deep-set brown eyes.

"Just put it away, please." He handed me the tape which had a label on the front reading 'Die Hard'. I smiled. I loved that movie.

"I think I'm going to take off for the day – do you mind?" Dustin never stayed a full day. He would make it to around eight P.M and would call it quits out of boredom leaving me to spend the next three hours in solitude - which I really never minded.

"Nah," I said getting up from my chair for the first time since I'd sat down three hours ago "I don't mind."

I watched as Dustin crossed the video store parking lot to his car with a thick car magazine over his head to shield himself from the rain that was falling. I smiled and waved at him from the counter as he drove off and when he was finally out of sight, I hopped the counter (childish, I know) and went over to the snack bar and fridge to help myself. Once I picked out a snack and a drink, I walked around the store looking for any movie that caught my attention until I remembered the tape that had been left in the box.

"Best. Christmas. Movie. Ever." I hopped back over the counter as I spoke to myself and put the tape into the VCR. I pressed rewind on the machine and waited a minute for the trusted click that followed when the tape had been rewound to the beginning. I turned on the TV, changed the input, put my feet up on the counter and sat back. This was, without a doubt, the best part of the job.

I was four minutes and nineteen seconds into the movie, Bonnie Bedelia the actress playing Holly, was talking to her daughter on the phone when the tape cut out. There was static for a moment and the image re-appeared on-screen only this time it wasn't the movie Die Hard. It was Cindy Lawson, our local librarian Sue's daughter, tied to a chair with a sock in her mouth.

"What the fuck?" I said while pulling my feet off the counter. I watched and listened as Cindy whimpered with tears flooding down her cheeks. If the sock hadn't been placed in her mouth, I imagine she would have been screaming or pleading for her life. For two minutes she sat there trying to free herself from the excessive tape tied around her bare arms, waist, thighs and ankles. Her breast bounced as she tried to twist and pull her arms free of the tape, and my body instinctively reacted. Trying to tame my excitement, I readjusted in my seat and turned down the TV in case anyone walked in. Was this some sort of porno movie? This can't be real. I thought to myself. I had never seen Cindy Lawson naked, but I had always dreamt of the day I would. She was the prettiest girl in town, and if this was a porno movie, I was about to have the best night of my life. I continued watching her struggle to free herself until she went still, then someone in a long black trench coat and a balaclava walked into the frame with a pair of scissors. This was not a porno. She began to violently thrash in her chair trying to free herself. At this point, my body had tamed itself as it began to realize the horrors that were about to unfold. I sat there, eyes wide, watching as the man (presumed from his height and frame) approached her with the scissors and then proceeded to stick sed scissors into her right thigh. She cried out in pain, which could still be heard over the TV's speaker, but it was mostly muffled by the sock in her mouth. Nonetheless, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The person in the trench coat grabbed the scissors with one hand and jerked them forward, enlarging the wound. With one quick motion, he removed the scissors from her leg with blood spraying up as the blades pulled away from her thigh. Blooded poured from the wound and Cindy cried out in pain loudly despite having her mouth covered. The torturer stood back taking in Cindy and all her horror, and then raised the scissors up in theatrical fashion and stabbed her again but in her left thigh. Blood pooled around the scissors and then down her leg in a thick crimson trickle. The torturer then walked out of the frame, leaving the scissors implanted in Cindy's leg. No more than a few seconds later, it then came back, but this time with a small axe. I clasped my hand over my mouth in horror as I watched the torturer bring the small axe down on her ankle. It was a clean split. Then just as suddenly as the tape changed to this horrible video of Cindy Lawson, there was static and then Bruce Willis appeared on the screen. I sat there unable to say anything. Was this real? Was this a prank? What the hell was going on? I reached down into my pocket and pulled out my cellphone, bringing up the conversations between Cindy and I. The last time we had spoken was the week before about a shopping trip she had planned. I texted 'Hey' into our chat hoping that what I had seen was someone else that I mistook for Cindy and nearly peed myself when a few seconds after sending the message I heard a phone chime somewhere in the back of the video store. It came from Dustin's office.