Or Raising Shu Tzu. That would just be wrong.
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Everyone has a hobby, I suppose. Some people have indoor gardens, tiny little worlds grown in pots and baskets. Some people collect stamps from all over the world. Some folks trade baseball cards, some raise horses. Me, I guess you could call me a collector. Like a lot of people, I'm online. Internet access is a wonderful thing, isn't it? You can find just about anything online, and I do, I find my treasures. Each one carefully labeled and filed, safe on a back corner of my spare hard drive, where I can take them out and look at them...

...I collect snuff films. Home movies, kind of like those amature porn flicks except the ending to every one of these is the same... not an orgasm, no explosion of cum, not usually. Blood, sometimes. Sometimes gurgles and splashes, or a moan of pleasure turning to a scream of anguish as the overdose kicks in. Or, and these are my favorite, just a strangled last gasp of breath, unseeing eyes turned up toward the person whose hands are still locked tight around a throat.

Sure, some of them involve fucking. Quite a few, the victim is raped first, occasionally even afterward, but that's not my thing, you know? I'll admit when I was younger rape... well, it was exciting to think about. But then I found this. And after this rush, nothing else is quite the same.

One of my best, the prize of my collection, is a three-part series. An entire family kidnapped, first the parents disposed of, then one sibling killing off her younger sister and older brother. The third film is simple, short. They gave her a gun with one bullet. Offered her the chance to kill any one of the men who had taken her, her family, forced her to do this. She shoved the muzzle of the gun in her mouth and blew a chunk of her own brains out. The look on her face as she pulls the trigger is amazing.

I'm not the only person collecting these, of course. They wouldn't be online if there weren't more folks like me, people whose private video files are full of death after death, tens, hundreds, of lives snuffed out for a camera. I've got stills too, and even via a strange set of circumstances acquired some of the original film footage of one old snuff. I've seen fan clubs devoted to this production company or that one, lists of people looking for more videos, chat rooms and news groups. I never really participate in any of those, though. Sure, it makes it easier to get ahold of the videos but I just don't feel like I fit in with most of the folks there.

They spend their days dreaming about killing, wanting to take away one more life, to see one more brutal, perfect slaughter documented for their pleasure.

I just want to be the one who is left staring, breathless, watching a stranger savoring my last moments on earth.

I know. It's a weird hobby. At least I don't knit sweaters for fish or some such crap.



Note - if you feel the need to ask me if this is fact or fiction I am going to laugh at you and pet you. If I DID have a collection of videos like that I'd be off making a fortune on the black market, not writing about it on diaryland. Thank you for playing.

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