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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

A young struggling film maker is inexplicably imbued with the clairvoyance of knowing when and where people are going to commit suicide. He films their deaths to finance his failing career.





He stood on the roof top of a forty story building. His appearance was impeccable, save for the breezy air blowing around what remained of his thinning hair. All of his affairs were in order. The suicide note was folded perfectly and placed in the pocket of his crisp white shirt. He stepped closer to the edge of the building, the tips of his finely polished black shoes peeking out over the ledge.


He could hear the city coming to life below him. The ambient sound of early morning traffic ever so delicately alerting his ears. He observed the sun beginning to peek through the buildings. It was almost time. He was calm and at peace with himself. His mind was in a zen like state of tranquility. He felt no worry, no remorse. The sun finally reached over the buildings stinging his eyes, it was time.


He stepped off the ledge and he rushed to the ground below. The wind rapidly whipping all around his body, his tie flapped around wildly. In just a fleeting moment it would all be over. He hit the ground with grotesque thud. It seemed so surreal on such a beautiful May morning.


Whoa! Did you see that guy hit the sidewalk!?!” Mick said laughing out loud. “Holy shit his head exploded just like a fucking melon! God damn! I wouldn't want to a part of that clean up crew that is for sure!”


Anyway the guy's name was Walter Brand. He was 51, an accountant, divorced with no kids. Not too sure why he decided to end it all. But hey, you gotta admit that is some quality ass footage right here.”


Mick was 28 years old and a aspiring film maker. He possessed an extraordinary talent behind the camera. His skill and ability to create dynamic shots out of the most mundane things was simply ingenious. And yet despite his talents he wallowed in obscurity.


He had been creating short films since he was 8. And although he possessed a unrivaled mastery of the lens he remained unknown. For Mick was lost in a vast sea of countless other would be directors and film makers. In the midst of the information age any one with a camera, or a cell phone for that matter could be a film maker.


He had managed to gather a small cult following through some of his films. But it was never enough to catch the eye of the big time movie producers. Mick was saddled with financial woes. He could never afford the permits, the set pieces, or even a decent actor or two. He was going nowhere. He lived out of his RV and survived on a diet of fast food and the pitiful hope of one day getting that big break. But it seemed as though it would never come. He was severely depressed and overwhelmed with frustration. But then one day something happened.


He was about to head out for a bite to eat. But something told him to grab one of his cameras. As he went out something overcame him, a sort of clairvoyance imbued his mind. Mick couldn't explain or understand what he was feeling. His thoughts were clouded as he placed his order at the front counter of the burger joint. But as he left the restaurant he felt compelled to walk out back to the restaurant's dumpster.


He took a big bite of his burger and tucked the bag of fast food between his arm and body. As he made his way behind the dumpster he saw... her. A young woman in her early twenties who looked like she was well into her forties. She had a band wrapped tightly around her arm and a syringe in her other hand. Initially stunned Mick wiped his greasy mouth on his shirt sleeve pulled out his camera and started filming.


The woman did not seem to notice Mick, or maybe she didn't care. She sank the needle deeply into her emaciated arm and pressed her thumb down on the plunger, the contents rapidly disappearing into her arm. She dropped the syringe and rested her head back on the garbage piled up behind her.


Mick continued to film the woman as she patiently awaited death's embrace. She was sickeningly thin. Her hair was matted and falling out. She had lost several of her teeth. Her lips were thin and cracked. Her face conveyed an expression of despondency, of surrender.


And then her body began to violently convulse. She vomited on herself and a few seconds later the convulsions ceased. Her body slumped over taking some of the garbage with it. Mick zoomed in for a dramatic close up. He got a captivating shot of the raw horror of overdosing. As well as capturing the extreme poverty and the hopelessness that accompanies drug addiction. He then slowly panned out to fully encompass the grim reality of her death. Mick took another bite of his burger before he walked away.


Mick returned to his RV. He viewed, edited, and added commentary to the video he just recorded. He understood what he had was illegal. But he was also aware that there was a clientele for this type of “film.”


Mick then set up an account of sorts through the dark web where he could post this video for sale. Mick was surprised by how much attention it got, and how much money he made. All over some junkie. But Mick would continue to experience this clairvoyance again and again, yet he could not explain it. Rather than be disturbed by these experiences Mick ever the opportunist took full advantage of these shoots. If he could earn enough money, then perhaps he could afford filming permits, larger more realistic set pieces, and better actors. And maybe finally getting noticed by the big boys in the film industry.


Mick would become increasingly confident and brazen with his filming. His most popular film to date was one concerning a woman who owned a health spa that had gone out of business. Mick had found his way in to her establishment and filmed her as she went through the throes of ending her life.


Bridgette approached the steamy hot tub. She carried with her an aged bottle of Dom Perignon, which she had already started drinking. Bridgette turned off the hot tubs jets before stepping into it. She stretched her arms out to each side of the hot tub and leaned her head back, enjoying the comforting warmth it offered. She opened her pale blue eyes and stared up at the ceiling.


She reached for her glass of champagne. Setting it down, she poured herself what would be her last drink. She then reached for the box cutter on the other side of her body. She grasped it firmly in her hands as she slit each wrist, wincing as the crimson ichor spilled into the hot tub.


She drank from her glass again, setting it down weakly. Leaning her head back once more she opened her eyes. Their gaze was now vacant and distant. Bridgette almost slipped into the hot tub as she began to lose consciousness. She leaned back again. But in the very next moment her time had run out. Bridgette slipped gracefully into the hot tub, its water now a crimson hue that complemented her fair skin. Her long mane of blonde hair flowed freely around her thin beautiful face, she looked angelic as she slowly sank to the bottom of the hot tub.



Well that was kind of poetic don't you think?” Mick lamented. “Her name was Bridgette Harlow. Her business had failed. I understand she put everything she had into it, and now she had nothing left. It's too bad actually. She was a good looking woman. I sure would have banged her.”


Mick would continue to upload his snuff videos with a rather somewhat regular frequency. His site on the dark web had really taken off. His earnings were fairly lucrative and the desire to continue was tantalizing. But Mick was smart enough to know he would eventually have to call it quits. But when exactly? He had money to hire better actors, secure filming permits, as well as procure better props and other equipment.


Mick leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was gambling. And much like gambling you have to know when to quit. He could face serious legal consequences for his snuff films and get locked up. He could be caught at any time really. Mick mulled over his thoughts as he absentmindedly glanced at his web page. No, he needed more money. He had to get himself noticed. If he pulled out now everything he had done so far would be for nothing. Mick turned off his computer and went to sleep.


Once again Mick was imbued with a vision of someone about to take their life. His intuition lead him to an abandon industrial park that had been shut down for years. He instinctively set up for the shoot. That was when he heard the roar of an engine. It was muscle car, likely a 70's model. Although Mick was no car expert.


The driver revved the engine and it looked as though he was going to crash into the building that was directly ahead of him. The car fish tailed as it sped off, scattering debris in its wake. Mick could feel his heart race as the car careened towards it's destination.


And then boom! The car crashed spectacularly into the side of the building. “Whooooo!” Mick shouted as he continued to film. Holy shit that was incredible!” But as the smoke cleared and the dust settled Mick saw that the driver wasn't dead. Mick zoomed in as he saw him stirring in the drivers seat.


But then rather horrifically Mick noticed a flicker and then a small flame shoot up from under the car. It quickly spread engulfing the car in flames. The driver desperately tried to get out. But he was trapped in the twisted wreckage. He screamed horribly as he was overcome by the flames burning him alive.


Mick zoomed in as the unfortunate man's screams finally subsided. Getting excellent shots of his charred corpse through the smoke and flames. “I don't know exactly what happened here. I have no idea why his car lit up like that. But man, that must have been fucking horrible. That poor bastard.” Mick couldn't believe what he had just caught on film. He moved in closer as he wanted a straight on shot of the car now completely engulfed in flames.


Mick muttered under his breath as he continued to film. “Oh yes this is fucking phenomenal, just incredible.” He adjusted the zoom and focus capturing a sensational shot. He was now so close to the burning car he could feel the heat from the fire. The flames that reflected in the lens of his camera almost seemed to dance. But what Mick saw next made his heart stop.


A figure was walking from the center of the wreckage directly towards him. Mick almost dropped his camera. Was it the driver? That would be impossible! In disbelief Mick glanced through the lens of his camera and saw it was indeed a man, but not the driver. Mick lowered his camera as the man approached him. The man raised a cigarette to his mouth, took a long drag and exhaled. “Hello Mick.”


Mick only stared back, terrified. The strange man took another long drag of his cigarette while Mick glared at him fearfully. He was a very ordinary looking man. About 6' tall, lean but not skinny. He had short dark hair and was wearing an expensive looking suit. “Mick I am here on behalf of my boss. You see he is a big fan of your work.” Said the strange man. “What about you?” Asked Mick. “Not particularly” Answered the strange man. “My boss would like to talk business with you.” But the only answer the strange man got back was the crackling of the fire burning behind him.


You see Mick.” Continued the strange man. “I understand you are making a little bit of cash with your snuff films, and maybe to you that cash seems like a lot. But my boss could offer you much more than what you could make on any website. Plus I think we both know what you are really after.” The strange man hesitated before he continued. “My boss has noticed that you really seem to know what you are doing behind a camera, he is most impressed. However what you are doing is illegal. You could end up serving a lot of time should you get caught” Mick scowled. “So you are trying to blackmail me?” A brief smirk flashed across the face of the strange man as he took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it into the burning wreckage behind him. “No.” Answered the strange man firmly. He then looked at Mick, in anticipation of a response.


Look.” Began Mick. “I don't know you, I don't even know your name. How do you know so much about me?” “How do you always know where to film?” The strange man shot back. This retort startled Mick. “I am sorry, where are my manners. You can call me Mr. Roy. Now my boss would really like to speak with you. Please allow me to take you to him. At the very least I think you should hear his offer.” Mr. Roy made a subtle motion with his hand and it was then Mick saw the black luxury SUV. How he didn't notice such a large vehicle drive up puzzled him.


Mick's mind was a whirlwind of confusion as countless thoughts ran through his head. He didn't trust this “Mr. Roy.” But what if his offer was legit? What if this was his chance, the break he so desperately wanted? What if this was some big time movie producer? Mick's mind was racing. They couldn't be the police, maybe FBI? Or maybe just some super rich creep that wanted Mick under his thumb. Mick's head pounded, what to do?


The sound of wailing sirens in the distance announcing their approach disrupted Mick's thought process. Mick looked up at Mr. Roy who raised his eyebrows and made subtle nod with his head towards the SUV. If this was a legitimate chance at the big time and he missed out on it, Mick would never forgive himself. He decided to take the chance.


Mick walked towards the SUV. Mr Roy politely opened the door for Mick. The two got in and the driver quickly drove away from the scene as the first responders closed in. “Now.” began Mr. Roy as poured a drink for himself and Mick. Let us talk business.

Submitted: April 16, 2021

© Copyright 2022 Jason Scott. All rights reserved.

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