((Sorry if this is in the wrong category, I couldn't find anything closer to what I wanted. This is the "recording" of Clover Fordyce and Julius Cherie - particularly, his death. Because of an unfortunate sim restart that happened on the sim we were doing the RP on, our log was lost, so we decided to try a different form of retelling this that could go along with Peri's movie poster contest. We skipped over some things because of length (and... because we're both big babies OOCly and didn't want to write so many gory details again!). Clover's maid will have distributed DVD copies of this for cash, and then would have tried to sell it to the XXX Shop.))

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Static.
Whichever screen may be in front of the viewer, it shows nothing but the crinkle of static for forty seconds, slowly dissipating to make way for a dark, indistinguishable scene. The muffled noises of someone tinkering with the camera can be heard, a slightly moving shape of diluted red a little clearer now as fingers fiddle with buttons and knobs. The red shape moves back away from the camera, and it may be obvious now that this shape is of a short woman, hair blacker than even the shadows cast in the background and probably no taller than five feet, stature unimpressive and skin stark in contrast to the dim lighting visible. She looks tired. Exhausted. The bags under her eyes scream insomnia, or at least rather unfortunate genetics in terms of those dark circles. All the same, she's done up. Excessively so. She's slathered on so much makeup it's hard to tell really if those circles are on purpose or not, or if they would have been even worse had the makeup not been so caked on. Even her clothes are a bit excessive, color-matched, decorations this way and that. Whether she's attractive or not... up to the observer, really. But this woman does not seem like one who would normally star in a home-made movie showing happy family birthday parties or Christmas mornings. This movie doesn't seem like those, either. She smiles a lopsided little grin, closed-lipped for now, and though her mouth is smiling the rest of her face is not.
"Say hi," the woman breathes, bright green irises on the lens of the camera, as if she's speaking to the viewer, though she is not.
Not a sound stirs, a deafening silence after her words.
"I said to fucking say hi!"
With her sudden shout the woman turns, visage in profile, eyes flitting to the side to view the soul she's directing her order to. The astute viewer may notice there's something off about the woman's teeth, though it may not be clear for now. A concerning silence floats in the air for a few moments, before a weak "hi" is uttered by the unseen figure in the back. A man's voice, weak and hoarse. The woman narrows eyelids, brows knitting in obvious annoyance at the lack of audibility (or even enthusiasm), before she turns back to face the camera.
"Today we're gonna' learn about forgiveness. We're gonna' learn how it isn't free to claim, isn't free to take. Nothing's free to take. Nothing in the world, even things billed as free. Even things you think you deserve. ESPECIALLY things you think you deserve. Isn't that right?" This question's relayed to the figure out of sight, but he has no answer, and the woman grits now-visible sharpened teeth together in a shark-toothed grimace. "That's fucking right. And you gotta' beg for forgiveness, though you don't deserve a fucking scrap of it. You know why?" Again, a question posed to the figure, as indicated by the flick of her irises to the left. When she, again, gets no answer back, she answers herself. "Because I don't fucking forgive. No one deserves my forgiveness. No one's good enough for that. Not even me, sometimes. But you? You're the lowest of the fucking low. Is that why you didn't ask for forgiveness? 'Cause you KNOW you don't deserve it? You don't deserve to even be in the same ROOM as me, Julius. Consider it an honor. A god-damn blessing. You were made to die in this room, it's your god-damn fate, and I'm going to fucking deliver it."
Once more the man's voice is audible, louder now, losing that drowsy tone bit by bit. "You... you fucking dare touch me again... you dare, bitch, I swear to god..." Though shuffling can be heard in the background, it's still unclear where Julius is or what is going on past the woman's rapidly-changing demeanor. Though he seems to try his best to threaten, she cuts him off quickly, throwing a sharp-nailed hand in the air as if to swat away an insect.
"You really think you're in the position to spew bullshit?" Her words are tinted with a hateful venom, her expression matched in anger, though her visage stays in the direction of the camera. Eyes flick back to the lens, that hateful look melting to a kind, almost friendly expression. "Today's a day for learning. Learning all sorts of useful lessons. None that Julius can put to use now, but it's something to remember for the future. For my future. I have to keep this. I have to keep this day. Put it in a showcase, on display, remind myself. I can't forget, I really, really fucking can't, and I'm always gonna' put this day to good use."
The woman backs up from the camera, the shadows obscuring her for a few moments. The audio is simply heeled feet striding across a carpeted floor. But this absence of visual cues lasts only for a little bit, before a blinding white etches across the screen, lowering until it comes to a better focus. The room is now visible. It is nothing short of a torture chamber, and a pink one at that, though the seventies-style shag carpet may say otherwise. In this view the man named Julius is now visible, stripped naked and curled up in a giant, rusty cage placed in the middle of the room. Various tools and instruments lay strewn beside the cell, out of his reach, though definitely in the woman's, if she wishes to utilize them.
And that she does.
Neither souls take any notice to the camera anymore, though the woman does glance its way a few times during the hours the video runs. She utilizes every tool there. A wrench to beat whichever part of him is reachable within the cage until his skin stains black and blue. A hammer and nails to drive those small iron bars into his right eye socket. A garden shovel to gouge out his left. Industrial-grade scissors to forcibly remove his testicles. She rips the brownish-red locks from his scalp fistful by fistful. Bites his penis off, using those sharpened teeth - her originally intended purpose for filing them down, she claims to Julius, before shoving this part of his anatomy into his mouth, and shoving a knife through both of his cheeks to hold it there. She's seen on her phone for about ten minutes before leaving her victim to suffer, and returning soon after with what looks like a clothing iron. She salters Julius's bleeding wounds with that searing item, burning through his skin in a lot of places as well. She recovers a needle and injects his arms multitudes of times with a mystery substance, before finally carving a large word into his chest: "RAPIST".
It's very hard to tell, even with the video, the exact cause of Julius's death. It could be from very, very many things, or all of them together in a lethal dose of cruelty.
As an ending note, the woman strides up to the camera once more. Her clothes have been lost somewhere in those hours, along with her cares and the emotionless front she's worked so hard to put up. Dark makeup-streaked tears slide freely down her face, her expression wild with energy. Her blood-soaked arm reaches up to the camera with a shaking unease, fiddling with controls as she once did many hours ago. "Goodnight." Her wavering voice echoes as the screen goes black.